Stephens developed a deep and sustained interest not only in Albany but also in the surrounding region. At the time of his arrival, little existed in the way of organised historical records in the town. Much of the historical research undertaken since the 1930s, and the substantial body of writing that followed, is attributable to Stephens’ efforts, which were characterised by patience, persistence, and personal engagement.

 

A meticulous researcher, writer and community historian, Stephens was widely respected for the reliability and depth of his scholarship. He devoted decades to documenting Albany and the wider Great Southern at a time when much early historical material was scattered, fragile, and at risk of permanent loss.

 

Stephens was closely connected to the state’s wider historical community through the Western Australian Historical Society, where it received its Royal Charter in 1963, reflecting its growing significance within the state’s cultural and scholarly landscape. Through this body, Stephens served as the Albany correspondent, acting as an important conduit between local historical knowledge and statewide networks of researchers, societies and institutions. This role positioned him as a key intermediary, ensuring that Albany’s and the region's history and perspectives were represented in broader historical discussions across Western Australia and nationally. His appointment as a Life Member of the Royal W.A Historical Society, as early as 1935, speaks not only to his active involvement, but also to the esteem in which the state’s historical community held him.

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In January 1933, Stephens delivered an engaging and instructive address to the members of Toc H, a lecture that formed part of the series “Albany’s Yesterdays.” As many young people in the district regarded Albany as their natural holiday resort. A resume of the address was considered worthy of publication. Stephens traced Albany’s early history from the visits of George Vancouver, Matthew Flinders, and Phillip Parker King to the founding of the first settlement by Major Edmund Lockyer. He outlined the establishment of Frederickstown, the early military and convict period, relations with visiting sealers and whalers, and the subsequent development of the settlement under successive commandants and government residents, including the establishment of Strawberry Hill Farm.

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In 1935 and 1936, the Albany Advertiser released further instalments of “Albany’s Yesterdays”: the second decade (1837–1846) on 11 November 1935, and the third decade (1847–1856) on 16 November 1936. Stephens’ work was characterised by meticulous research, a strong sense of place, and a commitment to preserving the early history of Albany and the wider district.

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Stephens’ work was inseparable from place and region. His research ranged across King George Sound, Princess Royal Harbour, Oyster Harbour, Middleton Bay, Kalgan River “Wyndham”, Kendenup, Cape Riche, Bremer Bay, Mount Melville, Mount Clarence, Strawberry Hill Farm, Residency Point, the Old Gaol and Convict Hiring Depot, as well as early settlement sites, rivers, coastal anchorages and inland routes of the Great Southern. His work also extended to the lives of local figures and custodians associated with these landscapes.

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Over three decades, Stephens undertook an enormous body of research and writing that has served as a foundational point for subsequent historical work. Working from community testimony and long before digitisation, his research relied on the careful examination of shipping lists, government correspondence, land records, newspapers, private letters, journals, plans and firsthand accounts, all meticulously cross-checked for accuracy. Through precise notetaking and a steadfast commitment to verification, he assembled an extraordinary body of knowledge about Albany’s people, places, and events. His methods and historical preoccupations came to shape the principles that guided his later research. Stephens observed that while much historical writing focused on the period up to 1850, relatively little attention had been given to the decades that followed, and virtually none beyond 1880.

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Stephens acknowledged the substantial attention paid to prominent figures such as Major Edmund Lockyer, George Cheyne and Sir Richard Spencer, recognising their significant contributions and the strong historical focus on them. At the same time, he identified notable gaps in the records, in which individuals who made equal or greater contributions to the region's settlement, development, and exploration were only briefly mentioned or overlooked altogether. Nevertheless, Albany remains fortunate to possess a rich legacy of historical material from its formative years. This legacy continues to be a source of pride and a central element of the town’s heritage.

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Stephens was widely respected for the reliability and depth of his scholarship. When Albany’s first European commandant was commemorated at the unveiling of the Major Lockyer monument at Residency Point on 12 March 1936, he was invited to deliver the principal address, a public role he rarely sought but willingly accepted on occasions of historical significance.

 

Stephens contributed to at least eleven research papers to Early Days, the Journal of the (Royal) Western Australian Historical Society, first published in 1936, including his writings on Major Edmund Lockyer (Early Days, Vol. 2, Part 19) and the public address he gave on March 12.

 

Beyond his many articles, Stephens undertook a far more ambitious project in Kendenup—The Story of One Hundred Years (1840–1940). Published as a series in the Western Mail in 1940. The work traced the history of the Kendenup district from early exploration, Aboriginal presence through to settlement, pastoral expansion, and the twentieth-century closer settlement schemes.

 

Drawing extensively on official correspondence, explorers’ journals, colonial records, and personal diaries, Stephens approached the subject with the same meticulous attention to documentary detail that characterised his other writings. Although the series was never issued as a standalone book, it stands as one of the most substantial and carefully researched local histories of the Plantagenet region of its time, preserving material that might otherwise have remained scattered or inaccessible.

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In 1941, Stephens co-authored Waterless Horizons with Malcolm Uren, founding member of the Western Australian Historical Society, journalist, historian, author and then editor of The Western Mail (Perth). Uren wrote regularly on historical subjects for The Western Mail, The West Australian, The Daily News and The Sunday Times under a variety of pseudonyms, including “Cygnet,” “Kangar,” and “Sandgroper.” In collaboration with Robert Stephens, Malcolm Uren used their initials to create their joint pseudonym, “MURS.”

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Waterless Horizons examines the life and expeditions of Edward John Eyre, with particular attention to his arduous crossing of the Great Australian Bight and his reliance on his Aboriginal companion, Wylie. The publication marked the centenary of Eyre’s great journey of 1840–41, when he travelled from South Australia along the southern coastline of Western Australia.

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In reviews published under the headline “Eyre’s Epic Journeys: Peeps into Albany’s Yesterdays,” the Albany Advertiser described Waterless Horizons as “carefully designed and skilfully written,” noting that its account of Eyre’s early years in Australia brought him “into close contact with murder in the desert, adventures with bushrangers and all the troubles of the first overlanders and the pioneer pastoralists.”

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A lesser-known aspect of the book’s origin lies in Stephens’ long-standing fascination with Eyre. After moving to Albany, Stephens frequently walked the coastline, often encountering physical traces of earlier exploration. It was during these solitary excursions that his interest in Eyre’s journey along the southern coast deepened. Some six years before publication, Stephens began systematically assembling facts and documentary material relating to the expedition. Despite the depth of his research, Stephens was dissatisfied with his initial manuscript and sought Uren's collaboration. Uren, with a strong narrative style, brought complementary strengths to the project. Uren contributed his knowledge of Eyre’s earlier explorations between Sydney, Melbourne, and Adelaide, including the discovery of Lake Hindmarsh, and helped broaden the scope of the research. Together, Stephens and Uren consulted key documentary sources held in the Mitchell Library in Sydney.

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The resulting work combined Stephens’s intimate understanding of the southern landscapes with Uren’s literary skill, becoming a collaboration, driven by shared enthusiasm. Waterless Horizons emerged as a dramatic and carefully constructed study of the remarkable explorer Eyre and the central role of his Aboriginal companion, Wylie. Stephens’ archive contains substantial material relating to the publication of Waterless Horizons, including correspondence, draft manuscripts and public addresses. Among these notes is the address delivered at the unveiling of the Eyre and Wylie memorial at Allambie Park Cemetery in 1967, which highlights Stephens’ role not only as a careful researcher but also as an active civic voice in Albany’s history.

 

One of Stephens’ most enduring public projects was his work on Albany’s street names and historical geography. In 1943, he published a paper in Early Days on the origin of the town of Albany and its street names, showing how the past is embedded in the town's everyday fabric. Often taken for granted, street names preserve layers of historical memory. By tracing the people, events and places they commemorated, Stephens demonstrated that Albany’s street plan could be read as a historical document in its own right.

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In the mid-1940s, Stephens published an article in the Albany Advertiser titled “Black Helpers,” in which he demonstrated a vivid awareness of the pivotal and central contributions made by Aboriginal guides to the exploration of the region. He wrote that on the arrival of the early party from New South Wales, members of the local King George Sound tribe became friendly, and two of its members, Mokare and Nakina, rendered assistance of the highest value. Their names, Stephens noted, were inseparable from those of the white men they guided—figures such as Captain Collet Barker and Dr Wilson, whose achievements were recorded in official histories and perpetuated in place names.

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Stephens drew attention to the imbalance this created. Mount Barker and Barker Bay commemorated Captain Collet Barker; Wilsons Inlet bore the name of Dr T. B. Wilson; yet the Aboriginal men whose knowledge made these journeys possible were left unnamed in the landscape. He recorded that Mokare guided Government Resident Alexander Collie during his exploration of the King and Kalgan river systems as far as Orup Creek and Kendenup. In contrast, Nakina guided Ensign Robert Dale on his 1832 expedition from Albany to Mount Toolbrunup via the Kalgan River. A decade later, in 1841, Wylie, of the same tribe as Mokare and Nakina, arrived in Albany with Edward John Eyre at the conclusion of Eyre’s epic overland journey from Fowler’s Bay, having earlier accompanied him to Adelaide.

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In closing, Stephens wrote with quiet certainty that while the names of the white explorers endured, “Mokare, Nakina and Wylie—black helpers all—are forgotten.” Stephens expressed the hope that one day a cairn might be erected in their honour, a lasting acknowledgment of their pivotal guidance and rightful place in the region's history.

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Stephens’ published research extended beyond central Albany into the wider Great Southern region. In Early Days he examined figures such as Thomas Brooker Sherratt; Albany merchant, bay whaler, ship-owner, and self-appointed builder and lay reader of Albany’s Octagon Church and John Wellstead the Elder of Bremer Bay, whom he described as “a grand old pioneer, equally proficient as a cattle raiser, sheep farmer, builder, carpenter or bootmaker, and withal a devout Christian of the Puritan type who never failed to read a passage from the family Bible after each meal”. Through these biographical studies, Stephens positioned Albany not as an isolated settlement but as the centre of a broader regional network shaped by maritime trade, pastoral expansion and the complexities of frontier life.

 

Records show Stephens’ direct involvement in street naming decisions. A letter written by Stephens to the Town of Albany in 1951 proposed street names, each accompanied by a historical justification. Several of those recommendations were adopted, further embedding his research in the town's physical fabric.

 

Stephen’s name became synonymous with knowledge of Albany’s past, his familiar presence at events of historical interest, where he readily answered questions, reeling off details with remarkable precision, dates, names, locations and context, often providing explanations that helped guide trustees to an understanding of Albany and its region's history. His ability to recall and articulate historical information was extraordinary, combining depth of knowledge with an instinctive understanding of how individual facts fit into complex, broader stories about the town.

 

Yet Stephens was never a distant academic. His historical practice was practical, local, and deeply collaborative. He believed firmly that history belonged to the community from which it came, and that fact must be respected. He never departed from evidence and was rigorous in its use and deeply concerned with inaccuracies in writings. He wrote with clarity and conviction, and Stephens understood that he was a custodian of knowledge passed to him by earlier settlers and community members, and that these accounts carried responsibility as well as meaning.

 

He was acutely aware that words carried weight, particularly when those who first told the stories were no longer present to clarify or defend them. He also knew when to step back—when discussion drifted away from evidence and toward interpretation shaped by sentiment. In recognising that, once history itself was no longer the focus, continuing the exchange served little purpose. In such moments, he allowed differing views to exist without compromising the integrity of the historical record.

 

Stephens was also deeply involved in discussions about how Albany’s history should be managed and preserved. These concerns extended beyond documents to the physical fabric of the town itself, including the joint advocacy of some of Albany’s oldest and most significant buildings, which by the mid-twentieth century were either demolished, neglected or at risk.

 

In 1941, Albany artist Claude James Batelier wrote to Stephens raising concerns that part of the Albany Residency and Old Gaol site was being used as a dump for petrol drums. Stephens presented Batelier’s letter to the Western Australian Historical Society Council at its meeting on 9 June 1941. Batelier described the use of the land, near the site of Major Lockyer’s 1827 landing, as a desecration of historic ground and urged action. Stephens supported the concern, noting the site’s statewide historical significance, and recommended that the Residency and Old Gaol areas be declared Class “A” reserves. The Council resolved to protest the use of the site and to apply to the Lands Department for its preservation. However, it would be several decades before the sites received formal heritage protection.

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In 1962, residents met to address the accelerating neglect of Albany’s built heritage and were increasingly concerned with the lack of protection being afforded by the local authority. Among them was the late Mrs Judith Gleeson, who wrote to the (Royal) Western Australian Historical Society expressing alarm at the changes taking place. The (Royal) Western Australian Historical Society encouraged the Albany group to form a regional branch, and, with Robert Stephens present and the passion and commitment of other members, the foundations of an enduring historical organisation were laid.

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Mrs Gleeson’s letter led to a public meeting of approximately 40 residents, held on 4 June 1962 at the Country Women’s Association Hall in Serpentine Road, and chaired by the Mayor, Mr Charles Johnson. At that meeting, it was resolved to establish the Albany Branch of the (Royal) Western Australian Historical Society. A primary concern of the newly formed branch was preserving a small, deteriorating cottage on Duke Street, later known as Patrick Taylor Cottage. Though deserted, it was informally cared for by neighbours Bonnie and Adeline Hicks, whose later writings would significantly enrich Albany’s historical record. Fears that the building would be demolished underscored the urgency of action.

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Constructed in 1832 by one of the first free settlers of Albany, John Morley, and later occupied by Patrick Taylor following his arrival in Albany in 1834, the cottage is the oldest surviving dwelling in Western Australia. Through community donations, volunteer efforts, and support from the Hicks family and the Albany Branch, the cottage was opened to the public. In doing so, Albany gained its first museum, sustained by guided visits and a shared commitment to preserving the town’s heritage.

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These controversies, arising from the neglect and deterioration of historic buildings, helped to galvanise heritage awareness and advocacy within the Albany community. They directly contributed to the establishment of the Albany Branch of the (Royal) Western Australian Historical Society on 4 June 1962, which five years later on 11 May 1967, the Albany Branch of the Royal Western Australian Historical Society formally ceased to exist following the approval of incorporation under the Incorporations Act and the Albany Historical Society was formally established with all assets, office bearers, and members transferred to the new organisation and is recognised as the second oldest affiliated historical society in Western Australia.

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In recognition of Stephens’ extraordinary contribution to the preservation and documentation of Albany’s history over decades, and his active advocacy for its heritage and history, he became the inaugural Patron of the Albany Historical Society in 1962 and its first Life Member. His name appears on the Society’s honorary board, followed by those who came after him—vanguards who, across generations, have carried that responsibility forward. That placement is not symbolic alone; it stands as a reminder of why the Society exists and whom it serves.

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As Patrick Taylor Cottage was protected and restored through the advocacy and commitment of extraordinary individuals, the wider community began to recognise the emerging vanguards of Albany’s history. Confidence grew, and with it came a steady flow of historical records, artefacts, artworks, and photographs documenting people, places, events, and buildings, strengthening the foundations of the town’s collective memory.

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What followed was nothing short of extraordinary—community spirit at its finest. Faced with the prospect of historical material being lost or discarded, individuals stepped forward to donate photographs, artworks, artefacts and documents, helping to build an archive rich not only in objects and documentary history, but also in personal memory and lived experience. Historical records relating to Albany and the wider region were increasingly recognised as requiring local stewardship, care and protection for future generations.

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During the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s, historical material held by the Town of Albany that fell outside its immediate administrative requirements was similarly donated to the Albany Historical Society. In doing so, the Society was placed in a position far beyond what had originally been anticipated, entrusted not only with preserving vulnerable records but also with the long-term responsibility of safeguarding the town’s collective history.

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The Society undertook the careful work of sorting, organising, documenting and preserving these materials, taking the time to listen to and record the stories that accompanied them. With no financial support, the Society’s funds were modest at best. On many occasions, the personal finances of patrons, presidents, vice-presidents and members were drawn upon to ensure that Albany’s history was preserved. This extended to a former President, Homer White, and his wife, Ethel, in 1970, securing funds against their mortgage to ensure that the roof at Patrick Taylor Cottage could be replaced.

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In 1963, following detailed due diligence, research and on-site evaluation, the Vancouver Spring Weir Project at Frenchman Bay stands as another example of Stephens’ and the Society’s active role in shaping how Albany’s history was publicly recognised and remembered. The project was funded entirely by the Albany Historical Society, and a granite notch weir memorial to Captain George Vancouver was erected at the spring site. On 29 September 1963, exactly 172 years to the day after Captain George Vancouver landed from the Discovery to locate the freshwater stream, the memorial was unveiled before 250 people.

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Addressing those assembled, Stephens spoke of the privilege of standing on “the historic spot where, 172 years ago to the day, Captain George Vancouver landed from his ship Discovery to find the spring fed stream which today still runs before us,” noting that the purpose of the gathering was the unveiling of the Vancouver memorial weir, erected in Albany granite and a plaque acknowledging Vancouver.

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Although the original plaque has since been replaced with one issued by the City of Albany in March 2004, reading “This spring was chartered by Captain George Vancouver in September 1791. It has been used ever since as a source of fresh water by explorers and seafarers, local residents and visitors.” The contribution of those individuals who devoted their time, resources and commitment to the project should not be forgotten. Representing the patronage and membership of the Albany Historical Society, their collective effort remains a testament to those whose dedication ensured the site was recognised, protected and remembered.

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A significant milestone was achieved on 31 May 1968 when the Albany Historical Society was granted a Crown management order for the Old Albany Gaol. While this represented a major opportunity for the Society, it also posed considerable challenges, as the building was in advanced disrepair and required extensive restoration before it could function as a museum.

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These challenges were met with characteristic resolve. For Stephens, the moment carried a profound and long-overdue sense of vindication. In 1941, he supported efforts to preserve the Residency and Old Gaol site, noting their statewide historical significance and recommending that both areas be declared Class “A” reserves.  However, it would take several decades before heritage security was achieved. The 1968 management order, therefore, represented not only an institutional achievement but the realisation of long-held aspirations for the safeguarding of one of Albany’s most significant historic places.

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Stephens lived to witness both the gains and the losses of Albany’s built heritage. Stirling Terrace was long known for its streetscape and history—a street of civic pride, centred on commerce, and a place where Albany’s story anchored itself time and time again. Recalling past Society minutes, one of the Society's most tragic losses was the Freemasons Hotel on Stirling Terrace, which closed its doors in 1971 and was subsequently demolished. Many attributed it to the changing times and focus that was not aligned with the preservation of history. Once stood one of Albany’s grandest and most distinguished hotels, rising to three storeys and offering extensive facilities. The site was later put to other uses, yet to this day, it leaves a noticeable gap in Stirling Terrace, a lingering reminder of the consequences and the fragility of heritage once it is lost.

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Stephens worked in a period when local history was built through years of patient accumulation, clippings carefully filed, transcripts made by hand, letters and oral knowledge. His relationship with early settler and pioneer families was one of respect, grounded in trust as much as in the resilience these families had endured, and respect was given to those who had known and to those who sought to know.

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The survival of much of Albany’s documentary and material heritage is owed to the dedication of Stephens and individuals of the Albany Historical Society, including fellow historian Bonnie Hicks, her mother Adeline Hicks, Joan Blight, Judith Swain, Judith Gleeson, Homer and Ethel White, along with past and current office holders, members and the local community.

Albany’s historical records did not survive by accident. The actions taken by the Albany Branch, guided by Stephens's leadership and patronage, reflected a shared understanding that history was not merely something to study but something that required active protection. Without the commitment of Stephens and these individuals, not only would key historic buildings be at risk of being lost forever, but Albany’s historical archives would not be as rich, detailed, or enduring as they are today.

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Stephens' contribution to the Albany Historical Society was practical and continuous. He assisted with research projects, shared knowledge freely, and participated directly in site research, memorial design and restoration projects.

Before his death, Stephens donated the entirety of his historical research on Albany and the Great Southern material he had nurtured and assembled over decades to the Albany Historical Society. Following his death in 1974, he was remembered as a gentleman deeply respected within the community.

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His legacy, and indeed Albany’s, rests upon that shared commitment to telling the town’s story, protecting its evidence, challenging assumptions, adhering faithfully to primary sources, and ensuring that history was not only preserved but returned to the community to whom it belongs.

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Stephens’ most significant legacy is the vast collection of historical papers, research notes and source material he compiled over many years. This body of work provides invaluable insight into early settlement at King George Sound, maritime activity, pioneer families, public infrastructure, and the social development of Albany and the wider Great Southern. By preserving original documents and synthesising information from diverse sources, Stephens established a benchmark for local historical research that remains influential today.

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In 2001, the Albany Historical Society’s archives were transferred to the City of Albany, becoming what is now known as the Albany History Collection. The majority of the original historical records and research material within this collection were sustained through the efforts of Mr Robert Stephens and the wealth of history given to the Albany Historical Society, built up over decades through advocacy, collection, preservation, protection and hard work.

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Stephens’ writings are now accompanied by a substantial body of articles, pamphlets, and essays that continue to inform, support, and underpin historical research into Albany and the wider Great Southern. Together, these works are known as the Robert Stephens History Collection.

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Today, historians and history enthusiasts operate in a very different environment of searchable databases and instant access to information. What has largely been lost is the personal records and consistent testimonies that historians like Stephens maintained with people whose memories reached back to Albany’s formative years. His work carries an authority shaped by proximity to people, place and primary evidence.

 

Stephens and those who followed in his stead remind us that the work of history is done for the community. It is undertaken quietly and motivated by respect for people, place, and truth, and always without expectation of return.

Today, the Albany Historical Society manages two museums—Patrick Taylor Cottage (built 1832) and the Albany Convict Gaol (built 1852)—and houses approximately 20,000 items within its collection. In addition, the Society holds around 60,000 items in its photographic and art collections. Its patrons, life members, members, volunteers, and committee members collectively bring a deep wealth of regional knowledge, along with personal records and histories passed down through generations.

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Stephens understood that behind outward façades of buildings lay histories concealed beneath later alterations, reinforcing his belief that the past often survives quietly, embedded within the fabric of everyday structures and in need of safeguarding for the future. The Albany Historical Society advocated for the protection and preservation of Norman House, once the home of early settler George Cheyne, built in 1858 and later associated with the Hassell family and Frank Dymes. The building also became the first and only Toc H Mark 1 Australia branch and, at various times, served as a chapel. Its Padre, Arthur Ernest White, was particularly acknowledged in Albany for initiating the tradition of an ANZAC Day dawn service. In the 1930s, Norman House served as a community kitchen, feeding over 140 local unemployed people daily and delivering meals to a community buckling under the pressure of the Great Depression. Significant to both Albany and Western Australian heritage, Norman House is being transferred to the Albany Historical Society by Advance Housing Limited, ensuring its protection and future stewardship within the community.

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Stephens would no doubt have regarded this moment as both an affirmation and a fulfilment, a continuation of the very principles he championed: that places of history must be protected, interpreted, and preserved for generations to come.

Stephens understood that to tell history is to accept a responsibility greater than oneself. History demands modesty from those who recorded it, and integrity from those entrusted with its care. That principle remains central to the Society today—that history is not owned, traded or exploited, but safeguarded. It should be shared faithfully and truthfully for the benefit of the community to which it belongs.