Past & Present, and Men of the Times.
Captain W. Jackson Barry
Veteran Pioneer of Australasia.Mckee & Gamble, Printers And Publishers.
Sir Robert Stout, K.C.M.G.
to
Sir Robert Stout, K.C.M.G.,the following autobiography is respectfully
Dedicated,
with permission,
by his old fellow-colonist & well-wisher,
Capt. William Jackson Barry.
Wellington:
McKee & Gamble, Printers and Publishers
Custom House Quay.
Preface.
To My Readers.
I sit down to write the history of my pilgrimage through the Australian colonies, and the accompanying volume is a faithful record of my chequered career. There are now few people who have passed through sixty-eight years of colonial history, and possibly fewer still who can recall the experiences of over half a century. I have done so entirely from my memory, which, I am vain enough to think, has served me faithfully in this matter. Some author—Dr. Johnson, I believe—has remarked that the experiences of any man, if written truly, would be interesting. I think so, too; every man has a story of his own, and something has happened to him that never happened to anybody else. This being so, and my record true, it may be interesting to people one hundred years hence to see what sort of folks we were at this date, how we lived, how we employed ourselves, and so on. On perusing the pages of my work you may compare me to Charles Dickens's "Micawber," but I have always looked upon myself as the reverse of that celebrated character. I have never "waited for something to turn up," but have gone on turning up something; much on the same principle as a plough, however, leaving the furrow behind it. And thus Micawber and I, by different routes, arrived at the same goal, poverty. I will not apologise for my work; it is the production of an almost self-educated man; but I leave it in my readers' hands for their judgment. It is a true record of a life spent in "roughing it."
Yours faithfully,
William Jackson Barry.
Introduction.
Captain William Jackson Barry is certainly one of the most striking figures among us, and when the history of Australasia comes to he written, this remarkable man should occupy a prominent position in its pages. Arriving in Sydney when our present century was but a mere babe in the arms of Father Time, he has seen deserts transformed into gardens and magnificent cities spring up on the sites of bark huts and miserable shanties. He has seen hordes of wild Aboriginal tribes die out to make room for the pioneers of progress and civilisation. He has tried his hand at many occupations, and has always shown untiring energy and indomitable pluck. Like Othello he has had many "hair-breadth escapes," but his unwavering courage has enabled him to surmount all obstacles and to overcome all difficulties. His adventures by "Flood and Field," as narrated in the following pages, cannot fail to be interesting to all readers who desire to be enlightened regarding the "Past and Present" of Australia and New Zealand. Wordsworth's lines on "Peter Bell" will apply to the Captain as a traveller:—
It is to be hoped that a hearty and remunerative welcome may be accorded to this volume of records and reminiscences of the Veteran Pioneer of Australasia.
Thomas Bracken,
ChapterI.
Early Reminiscences—My First Voyage—Off to Australasia in the "Red Rover"—Sydney in 1829—Home-sickness—Queer Lodgings—"Butcher" Smith, the ex-convict.
I was born in England, at the village of Melbourn, Cambridgeshire, in the year 1819. My father was by profession a veterinary surgeon, his practice mostly lying among the nobility and gentry by whom he was well known and respected. He took me to travel with him in his gig, at the age of six years, and up to nine years I had visited nearly all the principal counties of England. At this age we were staying at Lord Braybrooke's, Saffron, Walden, in Esses, and one of the guests, Sir John Alcock, taking a liking to me, asked my father to let me enter his service, and he would do well by me, and forward my prospects in life. My father consented, and I was handed over. My employer was about to undertake a voyage round the world, a very considerable feat in those clays of slow sailers and defective navigation. Although so young, the love of novelty common to all youngsters spurred me on to leave my native land and go with him.
In June, 1828, Sir John secured passages in the "Red Rover," commanded by Captain Davis, which was to sail for Sydney, New South Wales. We left the London Docks that month, with a fair wind down Channel. We had 250 passengers on board, and these were the first free emigrants who had left
The ship being ready, we all re-embarked and continued our voyage. We were not long out of port when typhus fever broke out in the vessel, and raged more or less until we arrived at Sydney, in January, 1829. During this time twenty-four deaths occurred, amongst them that of the chief mate. We lost many aged people and females, and several of the children on board became orphans through this calamity. It was a sorrowful sight to see, almost daily, some of our companions sewn up in canvas and put over the ship's side. I have seen death in every shape since, but nothing ever impressed me so deeply as this, my first acquaintance with the grim old tyrant.
On arrival in Sydney Harbour we were quarantined for six weeks, and the ship and all passengers' luggage thoroughly fumigated. The quarantine station consisted of six barn-like structures, built of saplings, on long poles, and mud, the discomfort and misery of living in which gave me the first taste of home-sickness, and I heartily wished myself back again in the Old Country. However, the weary time came to an end, and we sailed up to Sydney, nine miles or so further up the harbour, and the passengers were duly landed. No one seeing the magnificent city of Sydney of to-day would recognise in it the small, ill-built town of that period, With some difficulty Sir John Alcock secured lodgings, but apparently he was not much impressed with Australia, as he had made up his mind to leave in three weeks. He booked our passages in a vessel leaving for Buenos Ayres, but I had made up my mind that I had had enough of the sea at that date, and determined to remain behind.
Late in the afternoon of the eve of departure, I was following Sir John Alcock down to the vessel, and carrying his carpet bag, part of hie luggage. A sudden fit of determination seized me; I threw down the carpet bag, and cut and run. I found a tank convenient, and clambered into it, and took up my lodgings therein for the night. In the morning I was half dead with cold and misery, and scrambling out I was collared by a watchman, who took me before a magistrate. I invented some story of having lost my way the night before, and he let me go about my business with a recommendation to get home at once. Home, indeed! My reflections on that score were upon that morning bitterer than I have since experienced during my life. I at once looked about for employment, and was lucky enough to fall in with an old acquaintance of my father of the very common name of Smith. He was a very wealthy man, carrying on a large business in Sydney as a butcher. I may as well state here that Mr. Smith had been transported from England, at an early date in the history of the colony, for seven years, but he got a free pardon on arrival. It was a curious system of assisted emigration, but it appeared that people were sent out to the penal colonies in those days for very trifling offences. Smith had been thirteen years in the colony, and had made a large fortune, so that punishment in his case had turned out a real blessing. Having been, as I before stated, a friend of my father, he became one to me, and I have to thank him for many good services and acts of genuine kindness. I was now about ten years old, and one day I met the captain of the "Red Rover," which was still in port. He wanted me to go on board and sail with him. On mentioning it to Mr. Smith, he advised me to stop, telling me that he would shortly send me to school and make a man of me. It is needless to say I took his advice and remained in Sydney.
ChapterII.
Sydney Society—Felons—Refractory Women—Incorrigibles—A Perfect Virago—Stabbing and Hanging—A "Reign of Terror"—School-days — Swimming — Boating — Up-country Stations—Hospitality in the Bush—Shooting the Blacks—A Battle in the Bush.
My fellow-passengers by the "Red Rover" had excellent opportunities for making money. The Government were selling land for a nominal sum per acre, and many of them purchased sections in the country, settled down, and got convict labour, both male, and female servants assigned to them, and laid the foundations of the fortunes of many wealthy families now resident in New South Wales. In 1829, land was purchased from freed prisoners in the heart of Sydney of the present day, for a few dollars or a gallon of rum. The coin current in those days consisted of king dollars and "dumps," the "dump" being the centre of the dollar punched out to represent a smaller currency. The aspect of society in Sydney at this time was of a very mixed character; the preponderance of the convict element rendering it anything but a paradise to live in. Colonists could only get convict labour then and for many years after. An order from the comptroller-general procured them as many as they wanted. Men were assigned to them from the barracks, who only got their food in return for their labour, and if any of them misbehaved themselves, they were sent to the stockade and flogged by the authorities and then returned to their employers. I have seen prisoners working in very heavy iron fetters, some chained together driving trucks like horses, and grubbing up trees in the streets of Sydney with a guard of soldiers in attendance. It was
Mr. Smith, according to promise, now sent me to school. It was a dame school, at a place called Parramatta, and I may here remark that I have since bitterly regretted not having made a better use of my opportunities then. Close to the school was a factory, or reformatory, where female convicts were employed by the Government, making clothes and washing blankets, etc., for the male prisoners. There were three departments in this factory: in No. 1 was a place where refractory females had their hair cut off close, and had to live on bread and water for tbeir misbehaviour; in No. 2 were a lot of dark cells, in which the incorrigibles were punished by being immured closely; No. 3 contained the women of fair character, who were assigned as servants upon application from employers. These women, after working for one year and receiving a good character from their employers, were entitled to a "ticket-of-leave" from the Government, and then they could demand payment for their services. If, after working-three years on the "ticket-of-leave," there was no charge brought against them of bad behaviour, the Government generally granted them a pardon. The same rule applied to the male prisoners, and generally worked well. One day in No. 1 yard, one of the women from the dark cells was having her hair cut by one of her sisters in crime. I suppose the operation put a barbarous notion into her mind, for she snatched the scissors and stabbed the operator. This virago was sent to Sydney, and hanged, and fifty of her mates of the worst character, were sent to view the spectacle as a wholesome warning. Whether it produced the desired effect I cannot say, but if ever a pandemonium existed, it was then, at that place.
Parramatta, now a splendid suburban town, was then a very small place indeed, inhabited mostly by ex-convicts who had "served their time." It contained, among other buildings, a large stockade where male prisoners were housed. These men were manacled, and made to work on the roads, etc., as before described, in Sydney. One day, in 1830, I saw four convicts shot by their soldier guards on the road close to my school. These men succeeded in freeing themselves from their fetters, and were running away and trying to escape to the bush,
I left school this year, 1831, and as I before remarked, had made but little use of my opportunities, and was almost as ignorant as when I began. Mr. Smith took me to work and live with him for one year. I was principally engaged riding round serving customers and such like. I was not allowed to ramble about at night, but had to improve myself in reading and writing instead, and I may thank this care on the part of Mr. Smith for the little education I possess. It has enabled me to pen the story of my life. I had Sunday to myself, and being a great lover of the water, generally spent that day boating or learning to swim, and in this art I became an adept, and thought very little of swimming three or four miles at a stretch. I mention this fact as I shall hereafter have some startling anecdotes to relate of my prowess in this particular.
Mr. Smith had several stock stations up-country, and as he was about to visit them, he decided on taking me with him. We started, and this was my first experience in travelling in the
Before starting on our return to the station, we camped and had something to eat, and attended to our wounded. We reached Bit Bit that afternoon, where we remained for a few days until Mr. Smith got well, and then commenced our return journey to Sydney. There was nothing particular to chronicle on this trip, except that in swimming the Fish River I was washed from my horse, and had to swim for it. The horse came out on the wrong side, and I had to walk five miles until we came to a station, where I obtained a fresh steed. And we made Sydney two days afterwards, for which I was truly thankful, I resumed my trade and soon fell into the ordinary groove.
ChapterIII.
Johnston's Creek—Ugly Customers—Cattle Lifting—Lynch, a Demon.
Mr. Smith being in want of cattle, I was despatched with three men to Johnston Station, at the head of the Mossiec River, on the Liverpool Plains, to drive a mob down for the Sydney market. While there, another of those tragedies, so common in those days in the bush, occurred. The blacks had surprised and murdered two white women on the station. Although there was a stockade on the plains containing 500 prisoners, guarded by sixty soldiers, the station hands made no appeal to them for assistance, but turned out to the number of twenty and went in search of the offenders. They came up with them and drove them into a stockyard, where fifty of the blacks were slaughtered and their bodies burnt. This severe retaliation attracted the notice of the authorities; and the whole of the party engaged in the work, who were a mixed lot of freemen and convicts, were taken up and tried foe murder, but by some means were acquitted. Mr. J. H. Plunkett, the Crown Prosecutor, was determined, if possible, to put down this bush system of reprisals. Three or four days afterwards seventeen of the same men went out again after the black fellows, and killed a very old one; he was said to be eighty years of age. The Government came down this time with a heavy hand, arrested the whole of the men, and tried them for the murder of this aged native. They were found guilty on this occasion, and the whole of them hanged, and justice, in the person of J. H. Plunkett, was for a time satiated.
My men and I started for Sydney with 200 head of fat cattle, the station owner, Mr. Johnston, accompanying us for the first rencontre with them. The officers told us that one of the men, named Donoghue, if not soon arrested, was likely to commit terrible depredations, as he had hitherto proved himself one of the worst criminals they had ever encountered. His companion's name was "Jackey Jackey." Further on I shall have something more to relate concerning these desperadoes. The officers bid us good-day and continued their search. We kept on our way down to Sydney with our charge.
We had been ten days on the road when we met Mr. Smith about four miles from town. He asked what had become of the horses we had started with. When I informed him of our misfortune he was considerably put out, as one of the stolen pair was a favourite stock horse, and I believe he would sooner have heard of the loss of the mob of cattle than of his favourite steed. The cattle were taken to market and sold.
I did not have a very long spell this time and was despatched with four men to bring down a flock of sheep. On the first day,
I may have dwelt at some length on this terrible affair, but I merely wished to show what manner of ruffians the colonists in the early days had to deal with, and their name was legion.
ChapterIV.
"Sam Terry" and "Bill Nash"—A Jollification in the Bush—A Grim Joke—Interviewed by Bushrangers.
After passing the guard of soldiers who were bringing in Lynch to be tried, we continued our journey, and reached the Emu Station, 130 miles from Sydney, without any serious mishap. This property belonged to Smith and Terry, and was worked entirely by assigned convict servants and ticket-of-leave men. It carried 140,000 sheep, 400 horses, and 300 head of cattle. This was in 1833. The well-known Terry, one of the proprietors, was one of the wealthiest men in New South Wales at that time. He had originally been transported for life from home, but obtained a pardon when young, and made his colossal fortune by lucky speculation in land. He had never been to school, and he had taught himself the little he knew. He was a singular character, and notwithstanding his immense wealth, was never called by any other title than "Sam Terry." His chief regret through life was being unable to visit the Old Country, his pardon only extending to the colonies. This was exemplified in the case of another colonial millionaire, "Bill Nash," who obtained a pardon, although exiled for life. This man went to England from Sydney, and thinking that money would do anything, had the impudence to start a carriage and eight, in which he drove in Hyde Park; and upon one occasion actually interfered with the progress of the Royal carriage by being driven in front of the Queen. Enquiries were instituted, and his antecedents revealed, and, although the wealthiest colonist of the day, he got notice to return to his former haunts,
We were mustering the sheep and getting ready for a start down-country, and had been several days on the station, when suddenly two new arrivals appeared upon the scene. These were Messrs. Smith and Sam Terry. They were on the road to the station, and about five miles from the end of their journey, when they were "stuck up" by two bushrangers, who took their horses and what money they had from them, and left them to continue their journey on foot. Sam Terry was very strict and near in his ways, and his style of behaviour was not generally liked by his servants, who were, perforce, mostly convicts. Smith, Terry, and all the men who were with me collected together in the large hut that night, and there was a general jollification. Sam Terry related the adventure with the bushrangers, and remarked that, but for the cowardice of Smith, he would have taken the two bushrangers and brought them on to the station, instead of having to walk home on foot. He then asked what firearms were in the station. The overseer said there were ten muskets and ten charges of ammunition. Smith asked what he wanted the information for; he replied "To go after the bushrangers who stole our horses." Smith said "You had better leave them alone; you or I will never miss a horse or two; I lost my watch, and am well pleased; I might have lost my life." Terry said "They got £10 from me, I cannot forgive that, I always thought you were a coward, Smith; I wished I had fired at them." Smith replied that he did not think he was cowardly, but under such circumstances, he believed discretion was the better part of valour; and had Terry fired he would not be there to tell the tale. The sequel will show that Sam was not such a great warrior after all. There were twenty-seven of us all told, sitting round about in the hut, which was built of what is known as "wattle and daub," or poles and mud, and roofed with the bark of a gum-tree. At about eight o'clock two men came to the open door, and, without further ceremony, commanded us to "bail-up," and go in one corner of the hut.
They kept Sam Terry at work for nearly an hour, and then told him to clear away the table, which he did with as good a grace as he could muster. They then said all they wanted was gunpowder, which they meant to have, if it was on the station. Sam Terry was ordered to bring one man at a time to the door, and tie his hands behind his back. This was done until all hands were helpless, Terry remarking to Smith, when his time came, "This is a fine job I have got into;" and one of the bushrangers said, "I intend to give you a better one presently." The men were then ordered back into the corner, and I was deputed to tie Sam Terry. One of our captors then said, "I will do you the favour of a polite introduction to ourselves, and inform you whom you have so hospitably entertained tonight." Certainly we had not "entertained angels unawares," judging from their looks. He made me sit down near the door, and the other kept his gun at full cock all the time. He said his name was "Donoghue," and his mate's "Jackey-Jackey," and they had escaped some time ago from the Stockade on Liverpool Plains, and had been living a free and jolly life ever since. This was very possible in those days, for the hut-keepers and servants generally being of the criminal class, their sympathies went with old chums in crime, and they would shelter and assist them in
"When Mr. Donoghue had thus explained himself, he asked Sam Terry where the gunpowder was kept. He referred him to the overseer, who said it was in a small hut at the back of the stockyard. He then untied my hands, and ordered the overseer to precede him to the store. He took me with him, and I handed out two tins of powder and some buck-shot, Donoghue keeping his gun in position the whole time; his mate doing duty as sentry at the hut while we were away. We then turned to the hut, and Donoghue remarked to Terry, "I have a good mind to make you carry a bag of sugar a mile or two out into the bush." Sam turned quite pale at the thought of being made a packhorse of, but the bushranger did not press him into the service. He made me do up some tea and sugar and put into a bag for them. They now made up their minds to leave, and gave orders that none of the men were to leave the corner or have their hands unfastened for full two hours after they took their departure, and at the expiry of that time I was to loose them, my hands having been left untied for that purpose. They remarked, casually, that they might take it into their heads to return before that time, and if any man was found loose he would have his brains blown out on the spot. They then bid us "goodnight," and left. It was about twelve o'clock, and a beautiful moonlight night. I made up a good fire to keep the captives comfortable. They kept up a pretty lively conversation on the late performances of the freebooters, and the incongruity of two of the richest men in New South Wales being prisoners and helpless in their own house. The men, Sam Terry in particular, expressed no very earnest wish to be untied, probably fearing a return of the bushrangers, and it was fully five hours after their departure before any general wish for freedom was expressed. I then undid their bonds, and a feeling of security began to steal over them all. The two bushrangers did not return, and probably never meant to when they threatened to do so. Sam Terry expressed a fervent hope that he should reach Sydney without a repetition of the acquaintance, and promised himself a long immunity from trips up-country in the future. Messrs. Smith and Terry having completed their business on the station, left for Sydney, taking two men with them, and three
ChapterV.
A Big Bank Robbery—I go on a Whaling Cruise—We put into Port Philip to refit—The Runaway—Early Settlement—Batman and Faukner—William Buckley, the "Wild Man"—The Genesis of Melbourne—Trouble with the Natives—An Ingenious System of Warnings—The Foundation and Naming of Melbourne.
While I was staying in Sydney this trip, the Bank of New South Wales was robbed, and there was very considerable excitement in the town at the time. There were two or three empty buildings on the opposite side of the street from the Bank. The robbers effected an entrance, and sunk a shaft in one of them, from which they drove a tunnel across the street and under the Bank premises. They were thus enabled to get at the safe, which contained a large sum of money and securities, the whole of which the daring burglars carried off. In spite of the vigilance of the police, and the large rewards offered, the perpetrators were never brought to light. There were forty men brought up at various times on suspicion, and discharged. These men, some of whom became wealthy colonists, were afterwards known as the "Forty Thieves."
Mr. Smith, with a kind view of providing for my future, Put me to learn a trade. I was now, in the year 1834, fifteen years of age, and a very strong, healthy lad, and a good rough-rider. For one year I kept at work, learning my trade as a butcher, but in 1835 I made up my mind to try the sea. One day, as I was standing against the post-office, I met a boy named Winton. He told me he was on a barque belonging to London. The barque's name was the "Mary." Winton told me the captain would ship me if I wanted to go whaling. I made up my mind
In the morning he found his way round the swamp, and in trying to reach the Saltwater he came upon a noble stream, which, was afterwards called the Yarra. In the evening he reached his vessel in the bay. Next day he ascended the Yarra in a boat; and, when he came to the Yarra Falls, he wrote in his diary, "This will be the place for a village," unconscious that he was gazing upon the site of a great and busy city. Returning to Indented Head, he left three white men and his Sydney natives to cultivate the soil and retain possession of the
One morning when Winton and I and Bannister, one of Batman's company, and two of Batman's blacks were getting our dinner, a circumstance happened which favoured Batman's party in no small degree. We were surprised to see an extremely tall figure advancing towards us. His hair was thickly matted; his skin was brown, but not black like that of the natives. He was almost naked, and he carried the ordinary arms of the aborigines. This was William Buckley, the only survivor of the three convicts who had escaped from Governor Collins' expedition. He had dwelt for thirty-two years amongst the natives, sometimes joining them in their encampments, but more frequently living by himself in a cave near Queenscliff. He was content to sink at once to their level, and live the purely animal life they led. Bat when he heard from them that there was a party of whites on Indented Head whom the Geelong tribes proposed to murder, he crossed to warn them of their danger. Batman's party clothed him and treated him well, and for a time he acted as interpreter, smoothing over many of the difficulties that arose with the natives, and rendering the formation of the settlement much less difficult than it might have been.
The news taken over by John Batman caused a commotion in Tasmania. Many settlers crossed in search of the new country, and, before a year had passed, nearly two hundred persons, with more than 15,000 sheep, had landed on the shores of Port Phillip. They soon spread over a great extent of country from Geelong to Sunbury, living in the midst of numerous black tribes, who now, too, began to perceive the nature of Batman's visit, and commenced to seek revenge. Frequent attacks were made, in one of which a squatter and his servant were killed on
These were not the only troubles of the settlers, for the Sydney Government declared that all purchases of land from ignorant natives were invalid, and Governor Bourke issued a proclamation warning the people of Port Phillip against fixing their homes there, as the land did not legally belong to them. Still new settlers flocked over, and a township began to be formed on the banks of the Yarra. Batman's Association found that their claims to the land granted them by the natives would not be allowed; and, after some correspondence on the subject with the Home Government, they had to be content with 28,000 acres as compensation for the money they expended.
Towards the close of 1836, Governor Bourke found himself compelled to recognise the new settlement, and sent Captain Lonsdale to act as Magistrate. Thirty soldiers accompanied him to maintain order and protect the settlers. Next year (1837) the Governor himself arrived at Port Philip, where he found the settlers now numbering 500. He planned out the little town, giving names to its streets, and finally settling that it should be called Melbourne, after Lord Melbourne, who was then the Prime Minister of England.
In the beginning of 1837, and at the time Melbourne was named by Governor Bourke, the ship "Mary" made her appearance. This was the ship That Tom Winton and I ran away from in 1835, when we joined Batman's party at Indented Head. We were in John Batman's employ about three months when we left him, and in crossing the country to the Yarra, met Captain Lancey and John Pasco Faukner and told them our story about running away from our ship and what we had been working at for Batman. Mr. Faukner took us by the hand and gave us shelter, and with Faukner's kindness towards us, Winton and I got on well. We joined his party, and gave our labour for six shillings a week, and remained in his employ until Governor Bourke came from Sydney to plan out the town.
ChapterVI.
Kidnapped—Off to New Zealand—Back to Sydney—With Sheep to Port Phillip—The first newspaper in Melbourne—The Port Essington Expedition—I meet Mr. George Allen, of Wellington—Trading in Torres Straits—The Natives at Port Essington—I am Shipwrecked—Starvation ahead—A Woman's Terrible Sufferings—Rescue—The Swan River Settlement—Safe Back in Sydney—Not Born to be Drowned.
About this time, as I said before, the "Mary," of London, sailed into port. The captain and his boat's crew pulled up the Yarra to see the little town, and met Winton and myself. We were seized by the captain and his men, taken down to his boat, and put on board the "Mary," and placed in, irons until the ship was ready to sail. The "Mary" had made a whaling cruise; she had been away over a year, having had good luck in getting oil. Whales in those days were plentiful and easily got, and if the captain of any whale-ship had any luck he would soon make a fortune. This was in January, 1837, and I shall never forget that year. When the barque was ready for sea, Winton and I were let out of irons, and the captain shaped his course for New Zealand, and made the Three Kings, as the whaling ground was round there. We had good luck in getting oil, as whales were very plentiful.
The captain whaled there for two months, and then ran the vessel into the Bay of Islands to get water and trade with the natives. Winton and myself were very glad to see the ship run into the Bay, as we had made up our minds to run away the first opportunity, and get back to Melbourne as soon as we could and look after the little property we had left behind when we
On my arrival I met Mr. Smith, and told him what I had been doing since I left Sydney. Mr. Smith had now become a very extensive exporter of cattle, sheep, and horses, and the owner of several vessels. I told Mr. Smith about the small property I had in Melbourne, and that I wanted to get to Port Phillip to see about it. Mr. Smith told me in a week's time he would be sending a cargo of sheep to Port Phillip, and I could take charge of the sheep, and thus have a chance of seeing my old friends. I at once embraced the offer, and left in one of his vessels with two thousand sheep on board, taking with me Tom Winton, my mate. I landed the sheep in good order. They were despatched to a station belonging to Smith and Terry—Sam Terry. Smith and Terry had a large station at Port Phillip at this time, and were the first to take up the land for stock-raising purposes.
About this time Mr. John Faukner (mentioned in a previous chapter) started a newspaper in Melbourne. Its first issues were written in pen and ink, and I believe there are some copies still extant. There are presses in Melbourne at this date, 1896, throwing off 16,000 to 20,000 copies per hour. Winton and myself were well received among our old friends, and we sold the property which we had left when we were taken to New Zealand against our will, and got a good price for it. I remained in Melbourne for some time, and felt very lonely with my mate, Winton, but got plenty of work and well paid for it. Winton left for Sydney, and did well and made money. I stayed on in Melbourne, and saw the little village, whose first mud hut I lent a hand to build—a wattle-and-daub building as it was then called—rapidly growing in prosperity. At the end of 1838, John Batman had fixed his residence not far from the place now occupied by the Government Railway Station. Here he was
The Government this year (1838) decided on forming a penal settlement at Port Essington, on the western coast of New Holland, and eight vessels were despatched with 400 soldiers. 500 convicts, and a lot of cattle and sheep, provisions, etc, There were four men-o'-war and four merchant ships. Two of those ships were large transports, and could carry a large number of men. The names of the men-o'-war were the "Alligator," 28 guns, the "Pelorus," 16 guns, "Britomarte," 20 guns, and "Beagle," surveying brig. Mr. Smith was shipping stock for the Government, and Winton and I were in charge of the stock taken on board the "Britomarte." On board of one of the ships was a gentleman, Mr. George Allen, who is living in the City of Wellington to-day, and whose age is now 83 years. He was on board the "Orontes" in 1838, and was castaway in her in a land-locked harbour at Port Essington. It is strange that two men should meet after so many years had passed away. It was in 1838 that Mr. George Allen and I were at the settling of Port. Essington, and in 1896 we meet nearly every day in the City of Wellington. I merely mention the name of Mr. George Allen because we are both here and can speak of what took place at the settling of Port Essington in the year 1838—over 58 years ago. I will leave Mr. George Allen, but will speak of him later on. On our passage to Port Essington, we had to sail through Torres Straits, between New Holland and the Coast of New Guinea. These Straits are at all times dangerous to navigation The fleet came to an anchor every night to avoid the coral reefs which abound in all directions. Every evening, when we came to an anchor, the New Guinea natives came off in their canoes to trade with us. They gave tortoise-shells and pearl-shells in exchange for strips of printed calico. They were, however, a very suspicious lot, and would not part with their commodities unless the got something in exchange. They went about totally naked, and always carried their bows and arrows with them, and altogether had a very savage and unpromising appearance. The
After all the cattle and stores were landed, the men were immediately set to work building houses and a large stockade for the prisoners, the majority of whom were kept on board the transports until their future habitation was made ready for them. When this was done, they were put on shore and employed erecting barracks for the soldiers, and in the construction of wharves, and other, necessary works. We had been a fortnight in port when a terrific hurricane took place: four vessels were driven on shore, the "Pelorus" gun-brig grounded on a sand-bank, and nine of her crew were lost, the "Orontes," ship in which Mr. George Allen was employed as carpenter, got on a rock and had a hole stove in her bottom. Although the harbour was completely landlocked, the fierce gale lashed the sea mountains high. A large quantity of our provisions got lost or irretrievably damaged, so that all hands had to be put on short allowance while we remained.
The natives of Port Essington are a different class from the rest of the Australian aboriginals, being of a copper colour, and fight principally with the bow and arrow. There is a considerable admixture of Malays among them, who come at certain beche-de-mer, which they sell at Copang, where is always a good market for this material.
A few days after the gale a schooner called the "Sulworth" put into Port Essington, and Captain Short, of the ill-fated "Orontes," secured passages in her for himself, his wife, two children, some of the crew, and Winton and myself, and four men from one of the men-of-war also accompanied us, making, with the crew of the schooner, twenty-two souls. We left the harbour for Swan River late one afternoon with a light wind, and were becalmed all that night. We discovered that Captain Brown of the "Sulworth" gave way to intoxication, and this did not tend to reassure us. The third night from port very thick foggy weather came on with half a gale of wind. The schooner was running before the wind with every stitch of canvas set. In the dead of night, without the slightest warning, the vessel struck heavily, and in a few minutes parted amidships, the shore loomed up close at hand, with a heavy surf rolling in. How we reached shore I was never able to remember, but when daylight broke I found my mate Tom Winton, and Captain Brown's wife, lying on the beach. We were very much bruised and weak, and without a vestige of clothing, left a pleasant prospect truly, starvation apparently staring us in the face. Fortunately, there was a stream of fresh water close where we were cast on shore, and Winton and I broke down some bushes and made a "mia-mia" under a rock. We got a lot of seaweed and made a bed, in which we managed to sleep that night. We had no fire, but managed to pick up some cockles, on which we broke our fast. Having no clothing, I manufactured some straw ropes, and with the aid of some leaves, we managed to partially cover our nakedness, and these were the only coverings we had for the nine days we spent on the beach. For the past three days we had to keep a strict watch over the captain's widow. She was almost distracted, and seemed inclined to end her misery by throwing herself into the sea. However, she gradually grew calmer and more resigned, but grew very weak from exposure and want of proper food. On the fourth day Winton and I managed to kill a seal. I procured a large flat shell, and after sharpening it, I skinned the seal and manufactured a garment for our poor fellow-sufferer out of it. She was now more comfortable, but still kept growing weaker and more despondent. We used the flesh
In about three months a vessel called en route for Sydney. The Government considerately secured our passages, and we were very thankful and glad to avail ourselves of the kindness. Winton and I sailed for Sydney, Mrs. Brown remaining behind. We arrived all safe, and in reporting myself to Mr. Smith and detailing my adventures, he was utterly astonished, saying that I was "a perfect wonder," and was never "meant to be drowned." And no doubt his prophecy has proved correct so far. I have since had many hairbreadth escapes, but am not drowned yet.
ChapterII.
I sail for the Malay Archipelago—Dangers with the Natives—Some wonderful trading—Importing Timor ponies to Sydney—The sad tale of a skipper—I go into the "overlanding" business—Off to Adelaide with stock—South Australia in 1840—Captain Grey (afterwards Sir George Grey) succeeds Governor Gawler—My second trip to New Zealand—George Bates of Kangaroo Island—A curious personage—We arrive in Wellington—Wellington in 1841—Some old Identities.
In the year 1839, a gentleman, Mr. Benjamin Boyd, a very wealthy man, arrived from England in a yatch of sixteen tons, called the "Wanderer," and rather surprised the colonists by such an exhibition of pluck and good seamanship. He purchased large tracts of land and several stations, also whaling ships, and carried on the whale fishery for many years, realising an immense fortune. He built a small town at the whaling station, at Twofold Bay, which is called Boydstown to this day. Here also he built large meat-curing works, and exported meat to all the other colonies. He and Mr. Smith, my employer, had some very large transactions in business together, and one day Mr. Boyd, who had often met me during these transactions, asked me to go into his employ. I referred him to Mr. Smith, who said if I could better my prospects by all means to go. Mr. Boyd wanted me to go as trading master in a barque, the "Swallow," which he was fitting out for a trading trip up north, among the Malaysian Archipelago. Being anxious to see a little more of the world, I decided to accept his offer, and early in 1839 left in the barque, which was then ready for sea. She was fitted out for carrying stock, and was commanded by Captain Dunn, a very old man, who never left the barque to go on
Our captain was now taken very ill, and we had to go on to Copang with him. He went on shore and we laid at anchor in the harbour, which is a tolerably good one, for a week. The captain, feeling better then, came on board. We weighed anchor and stood out for Sydney, where we arrived without accident, but the captain was very ill all the voyage; in fact, he nearly died. He was evidently growing to old for a seafaring life. Mr. Boyd gave me considerable praise for my success, and the cargo realised a handsome sum. The ponies, which were the first of the kind that had ever reached Sydney, were very much admired, and brought from £10 to £20 each. The pearl and tortoise-shell
Mr. Smith was shipping stock to Adelaide and sending sheep overland to Victoria and Adelaide. This was in the fall of 1839. Governor Gawler was in charge of the colony at this time. The squatters of New South Wales, attracted by the high prices given for sheep in the early days of Adelaide, had been daring enough, in spite of the blacks and the toilsome journeys, to drive their flocks overland. I joined some squatters, and we started with about 54,000 sheep, and after a long and wearisome journey of four months we arrived at Adelaide, and soon gave quite a
This was in the year 1840, Governor Gawler was now in great trouble and was called Home by the British Government, who eventually decided to lend the colony a sufficient sum of money to pay its debts; but it was resolved to make certain changes. The eleven commissioners were abolished, and Captain George Grey, a young officer, was appointed governor. One day he walked into the Government House at Adelaide, and at once took the control of affairs into his own hands. This summary mode of dismissing Governor Gawler must now be regarded as somewhat harsh, for Gawler had laboured hard and spent his money freely in trying to benefit the colony, and the mistakes which were made during his administration were not so much due to his incapacity as to the impracticable nature of the theory on which the colony had been founded. Governor Gawler sailed for England deeply regretted by many who had experienced his kindness and generosity in their time of trouble. I remained in South Australia until January, 1841, and saw the country make great strides towards prosperity.
In this year, 1841, the talk in Adelaide was that New Zealand was the place for good land, and emigrants were flocking there to settle. About this time a very old friend of mine arrived with his vessel at Port Adelaide, the name of the vessel being the "Water Lily." The captain asked me to join him and go to New Zealand with a cargo of flour, which he would buy at Launceston in Tasmania. I had by me £100 cash, and joined the captain. I went with him and we bought our cargo. I
He was, he says, the first settler in what is now the colony of South Australia. His name was George Bates, of Kangaroo Island, the sentinel island that guards the entrances to the Gulfs of Spencer and St. Vincent. He was born in 1800, his father being a Staffordshire man, and his mother a Welsh woman. They lived in London and were very badly off, as work was scarce, and blacksmithing, the man's trade, very poorly paid, When George was about eleven he was glad enough to get away from his comparatively foodless home and go on board a training vessel. Thence he went into the Royal Navy and saw a great deal of convoy service to and from the West Indies in the busy war-day that preceded Waterloo. Convoying being at an end, Bates went as a sailor on board a convict ship bound for Sydney, and leaving his vessel in that port, went whaling. He first visited Kangaroo Island in 1823. To use his own words as given a few months ago to a member of the Land Commission, he found "plenty tucker" on the island, as in those days kangaroos and seals were plentiful. He had some companions with him in his retired place of residence, and they cured the skins of the seals, and one season a vessel took away as many as seven thousand of these. The sealskins were bartered for rum at £3 per gallon and tobacco at 10s. per pound; and for a pocket-knife or any similar article they would give a sealskin. In those days the skins of kangaroos were almost worthless. The secret of their usefulness had not been found, out. Mr. Bates went sealing in West Australia in 1828, but that behind-hand colony was always deficient in something; at that time it was in seals, and the skipper of the vessel George was in suggested a cruise to New Zealand. Mr. Bates had heard that the natives of that future "Britain of the South" were partial to "long pig," so he declined to go, saying with characteristic prudence. "Oh no, not there; I don't mind eating natives, but they don't eat George." Faithful to Kangaroo Island, he returned there with three other pioneers, and they led a free and careless life, and to quote George's own words,
A few days after George Bates had left, the schooner got under way and we left Launceston with our cargo for New Zealand. The "Water Lily" was not very large, but a splendid sea boat. Small vessels in those days, long before iron ones were thought of, were much favoured, and did good service, being virtually pioneers for the splendid class of steamers that now navigate these seas. The first four days out of port we met with very bad weather, but we made a good passage in our little vessel. The "Water Lily" was well known to be a very fast sailer, and we made the trip to Wellington in ten days. We ran into the harbour with a fair wind and dropped our anchor, and the captain and I went on shore to see if there was a market for
ChapterII.
We cross the Straits to Nelson—Nelson in 1841—We go to Launceston for Flour—A quick trip back to Wellington—A trip up to Taranaki—A stirring scene in old Taranaki—We leave for Sydney—My old friend Smith again—I take a cargo of horses to Calcutta—A successful trip—My first impression of India—Our return to Sydney—A sad occurrence—My fast habits—Mr. Nash "rooks" me of large sums—To Adelaide with cattle—The rise of South Australia—A tribute to Sir George Grey—The Discovery of Copper—A Marvellous Story—Kapunda and Burra-Burra.
We got the little vessel under way and left for Nelson, on the South Island. The schooner was very light, and should have had from ten to fifteen tons of ballast in her, as we only had a small quantity of flour on board, We made bad weather in the Straits, but we reached Nelson in three days, and found the settlers in a very bad state for want of provisions. Some of them had potatoes planted. They took the seed from the ground, peeled the potatoes, and then put the peelings from the potatoes into the ground for seed. Men made trousers out of flour bags, and indeed the people were very short of supplies of all kinds. We discharged our flour, sold what sugar we had, and we then wished the people of Nelson good-bye, and started for another cargo of flour. We had a good run to Launceston, and soon loaded up again. Flour was very cheap in Launceston. but was bringing a big price in New Zealand. We soon got our flour loaded, and made Wellington in seven days, the people of the town being greatly surprised to see the "Water Lily" back to Wellington in so short a time. Mr. Rhodes brought half our cargo, and the people of Wellington advised me to run the
The people of New Plymouth were nearly staving for bread, so instead of going to Nelson we ran the schooner up to New Plymouth. I was sorry for having done so. We had to land our goods through heavy surf. We sold our cargo, and I got a better price for it than we obtained in Wellington, but New Plymouth was a very bad place for any vessel to lay. The two days I was there I witnessed a scene amongst the natives. A gentleman of the name of Carrington had to run to save his life. He was laying out the town, when a chief tried to stop him, and flourished a tomahawk over his head. He had to run and take shelter in a whare belonging to Dicky Barratt, an old whaler. The natives mustered very strong, and I thought I was going to see a great row. The few people who were then in the town were very much frightened, as well they might be, for there were about 800 natives in the place, dancing war dances, and threatening the Europeans. I settled up my business as quickly as I could, got on board the schooner, and left that night. I will now leave New Zealand for a time, as I shall have a great deal more to say about this Colony later on. We got under way, and the captain shaped his course for Sydney. Three days out from New Plymouth the "Water Lily" sprang a leak, and we had to keep the pumps going all the way to Sydney. On our arrival the schooner was put on the patent slip, and during the time she was being repaired the captain sold her, and we settled up and parted.
At the end of 1842 my old friend, Mr. Smith, was shipping horses to the Indian market to supply the East India Company's troops and one day I met him as I was walking up George Street. He was surprised to see me. I said that I had been a long time away. He asked if I had made any money. I gave him all the news about my overland trip with the sheep, and my two trips to New Zealand in the schooner with flour. Mr. Smith then said he wanted me to go and take charge of some horses that he was about to ship to Calcutta. I was very much pleased, and jumped at his offer. There was a large vessel called the "Lord Lyne-doek" lying in port, which had been conveying prisoners to Sydney. She had fine accommodation for stock, so Mr. Smith chartered her for Calcutta. He placed on board 400 horses, and put me in charge of the animals. I got my men on board and
I must say that I felt something like regret at leaving so jolly a place. On my next visit my feelings were altogether different, but of this more anon. The passengers soon shook down into their respective places, and the voyage back was a pleasant and speedy one. We arrived at Sydney Heads without any mishap or occurrence of note. The wind was blowing hard from the eastward as we passed through the Heads. 'It was a fair wind up the harbour. The night had set in, and the light on the "Sow and Pigs," a small island in mid-channel, had gone out. Shortly after leaving it, a small coasting schooner, which was tacking across the harbour, came into collision with us. Our vessel passed clean over her, and twelve unfortunate people, who were in her, were drowned before we could render any assistance. I went on shore next day and saw my employer, who was highly pleased with the success of the trip, and told me he would shortly send me to India again on a similar errand. He had then two ships chartered to convey horses to Calcutta, and had entered into partnership with Mr. Boyd, who wished me to go another trip as trading-master to the Straits of Timor, but after
At this time I have to confess that I was rather a fast young man. I had plenty of money, and spent it freely. When I ran short I only had to apply to Messrs. Smith, Boyd, or Terry, to get as much as I required, and this system unfortunately imbued me with a spendthrift habit, which stuck to me more or less for some time. I met Mr. Boyd one morning, and he asked me if I would take a trip to Adelaide, as he was about to send some cattle there, and having been six weeks ashore, I embraced the opportunity of a change, and told him I was quite willing. I asked him for some money, and be said with astonishment, "Why! you had £150 a fortnight ago! What have you done with it? "I turned sulky, and refused to inform him. He had seen me in the company of the celebrated Bill Nash, spoken of before as the man who had the hardihood and impudence to impede the Queen's carriage in Hyde Park, while home on a ticket-of-leave, and guessed rightly that Nash, to use a colonial expression had "had me." Nash, although a very wealthy man, was a confirmed gambler, and was clever enough, even among such a rough community, to make the "profession" a paying one. Gambling had great charms for a young careless fellow like myself, and Mr. Nash, I am ashamed to say, frequently possessed himself of my stock of cash by his cleverness.
Mr. Boyd at this time had a large mob of cattle sent down from his station. The cattle were shipped for Adelaide. I met Mr. Boyd, and he told me the ship would leave in two days, and told me to get ready, and doing so, I went on board the vessel. We left Sydney Heads on August 14, 1843; we had a splendid run to Adelaide, and landed the cattle all right. I met many old friends that I had left behind when I joined Captain Sharp in the schooner "Water Lily." The cattle were all sold at a good profit, and I stayed in Adelaide for some time. I met many of my old mates with whom I had travelled overland from Sydney with the sheep, and they tried hard to get me to settle down and take up a run. I met the Governor, Captain George Grey, and he also wanted me to settle on a farm in Adelaide in 1843, which had began to attract a good deal of notice, and a number of people left Sydney to settle there. The colonists of South Australia had, in 1841, received a sharp but salutary lesson, and they had profited by it. They had discovered that the land was
The new Governor, Captain George Grey, took every care to assist the colonists in returning to more prudent courses Many changes were needed. In 1840, while the colony had a revenue of only £30,000, it had spent at the rate of £171,000 per annum. Such imprudence could lead to nothing but ruin, and the first task of the Governor was to reduce all expenses as far as possible. In the next year the expenses were cut down to £90,000, in the next to £68,000, and in 1843 to £34,000. Instead of employing the poorer labourers on costly and unnecessary public works he persuaded them to take employment up country with the farmers and squatters, who were rapidly opening up the interior parts of the colony. He settled many on small farms or stations of their own, but in this he was greatly impeded by the high price of land, for, Wakefield's friends in England were not yet convinced that their favourite scheme was defective. They attributed every mishap to the incompetence of Governors Hindmarsh and Gawler. "To lower the price," said they, "will be to ruin the colony," and lest such a thing should happen, they raised the price of all lands, whether good or bad, to one pound per acre, but many of those who had bought land in the early days of the settlement had been so anxious to part with it during the crisis that they had sold it for much less than it cost them, and thus a great number of the poorer people became possessed of land at very moderate prices.
In 1839 there were but 440 acres under cultivation. Three years afterwards, there were 23,000 acres bearing wheat, and 5000 acres of other crops. So rich and fertile was the soil that in 1845 the colonists not only raised enough corn to supply their own wants, but were able to export about 200,000 bushels at cheap rates to the neighbouring colonies, and even then were left with 150,000 bushels, which they could neither sell nor use. So rapid a development of resources, and so sudden an accession of prosperity have probably never occurred in the history of any other country.
Such was the success attendant upon careful industry, exercised with prudence, and under favourable circumstances, but the colony was to owe yet more to good fortune. During the year 1841 a carrier while driving his bullocks over the Mount Lofty range had been obliged, by the steepness of the road, to fasten a log at the back of his waggon, in order to steady the load and prevent its descending quickly. As the log dragged roughly behind on the road it tore great furrows in the soil, and in one of these the carrier noticed a stone which glanced and glittered like a metal. On looking around more closely he saw there were large quantities of the same substance lying near the surface of the earth in all directions. Having taken some specimens with him, he made enquiries in Adelaide, and learned that the substance he had discovered was, galena, a mineral in which sulphur is combined with lead and small quantities of silver. The land on which this valuable ore had been found was soon purchased, and mines opened up, and at first there was large profit obtained from the enterprise, and though, in many years, the deposit became exhausted, yet the mines served to call the attention of the colonists to the possibility of discovering more permanent and lucrative sources of mineral wealth.
At the Kapunda station, about forty miles north-west of Adelaide, there lived a squatter named Captain Bagot. One day, during the year 1842, he sent his overseer, Mr. Dutton, to search for a number of sheep which had strayed into the bush. After spending some time in fruitless efforts, Mr. Dutton ascended a small hill in order to have a more extensive view of the country, but still he saw nothing of the lost sheep On turning to descend, his attention was attracted by a bright green rock jutting from the earth. It seemed to him peculiar, so he broke a small piece off and carried it down to Captain Bagot's house, where he and the captain examined it, and came to the conclusion that it consisted of the mineral called malachite, containing copper in combination with water and carbonic dioxide. They let no one know of the discovery, but proceeded to apply for the land in the usual manner, without breathing a word as to their purpose. The section of eighty acres was advertised for a month, and then put up to auction, but as no one was anxious for this barren piece of ground they had no competitors, and the land fell to them for the price of £80. As soon as they became possessed of it they threw off all mystery and commenced
The discovery of copper at Kapunda caused much excitement in the colony. Everyone who possessed land examined it carefully for the trace of any minerals it might contain, and soon it was rumoured that, at a place about one hundred miles north of Adelaide, a shepherd had found exceedingly rich specimens of copper ore. The land on which they were discovered had not yet been sold by the Government, and in great haste a company was formed to purchase it. The company consisted of merchants, professional men, and officials of Adelaide; but a rival company was immediately started, consisting of shopkeepers and tradesmen, together with the farmers of the country districts. The former company always maintained a haughty air, and soon came to be known throughout the colony as the "nobs," while they, in their turn, fixed on their rivals the nickname of the "snobs." For a week or two the jealousies of the companies ran high, but they were soon forced so make a temporary union, for according to the land laws of the colony, if anyone wished to buy a piece of land he had to apply for it and have it advertised for a month. It was then put up at auction, and he who offered the highest price became the purchaser. A month, however, is a long time to wait, and as it was rumoured that a number of speculators were on their way from Sydney to offer large sums for the land as soon as it should be put up at auction, it was necessary to take immediate action. There was another regulation in the land laws, according to which, if a person applied for 20,000 acres, and paid £20,000 in cash, he became at once the proprietor of the land. The "nobs" determined to avail themselves of this arrangement, but when they put their money together they found they had not enough to pay so large a sum. They, therefore, asked the "snobs" to join them on the understanding that after the land had been purchased the two companies would make a fair division. By uniting their funds they raised the required amount, and proceeded with great exultation to lodge the money. But part of it was in the form of bills on the Adelaide banks, and as the Governor refused to accept anything but cash, the companies were almost in despair, until a few active members hunted up their friends in Adelaide,
Now came the division of the 20,000 acres. A line was drawn across the middle; a coin was tossed up to decide which of the two parties should have the first choice, and fortune favoured the "snobs," who selected the northern half, called by the natives Burra-Burra. To the southern part the "nobs" gave the name of "Princess Royal" The companies soon became operations, but though the districts appeared on the surface to be of almost equal richness, yet, on being laid open, the Princess Royal ground was soon found to be in reality only poor, while the Burra-Burra mines provided fortunes for each of the fortunate "snobs." During the three years after their discovery these mines yielded copper to the value of £700,000. Miners were brought from England, and a town of about 5,000 inhabitants rapidly sprang into existence. The houses of the Cornish miners were of a peculiar kind. A creek runs through the district with high and precipitous banks, and into the face of these cliffs the miners cut away large chambers to serve as dwellings. Holes were bored through the rock and emerging from the surface of the ground above, formed the chimneys, which were capped by small beer-barrels instead of chimney-pots. The fronts of the houses were weatherboard, in which doors were left; and for two miles along each side these primitive dwellings looked out upon the almost dry bed of the creek, which formed the main street of the village. Here the miners dwelt for years, until the waters rose one night into a foaming flood, which destroyed the houses and swept away several of their inhabitants. In 1845, Burra-Burra was a lonely moor; in 1850 it was bustling with men, noisy with the sound of engines, and pumps and forges. Acres of land were, covered with the company's wharehouses and offices, and the handsome residences of its officers. Behind these there rose great mounds of blue, green, and dark-red ores of copper, worth enormous sums of money, Along the roads, eight hundred teams, each consisting of eight bullocks, passed constantly to and fro, whilst scores of ships were employed in conveying the ore to England. From this great activity the whole community could not but derive the utmost benefit, and for a time South Australia had every prospect of taking the foremost place among the colonies.
ChapterIX.
Back to Sydney—Death of my old friend Mr. Smith—I have a row with a Dutchman—A Whaling cruise—My success and its results—I command the "Flying Fish"—An Eventful Voyage—Whaling in Torres Strait—An Experience in the New Hebrides.
During the time I was staying in South Australia I had a fall from a horse, and was laid up in the Adelaide hospital for four months. I got a friend to write a letter to Mr. Boyd, asking him to send me £25, as my money was all gone, and I was in debt a few pounds and I wanted to return to Sydney. Mr. Boyd sent me £20, and wrote advising me to return to Sydney at once, as my old friend Mr. Smith was very ill. If I wanted to see him alive, I was to lose no time in getting back to Sydney. After leaving the hospital, I settled up my debts and got a passage in the "Dorset" brig to Sydney. On my arrival, I went on shore, and going down George Street I met Mr. Boyd, who was much astonished to see me alive. He gave me the sad news of my dear friend Mr. Smith's death, which was a great blow to me, he having, as it were, been a second father to me from ten years of age. Mr. Boyd took me up to the house of my departed friend, but I did not stay long, as the associations were too much for my feelings. I went home with Mr. Boyd, who kindly fitted me out with clothes and money, both of which I I began to stand very much in need of. I gave him a detailed account of all that had happened since my leaving Sydney. He listened kindly and patiently to the recital, and then said, "Well, you have gone through a great deal of rough experience this trip. Your old friend Smith is gone, and the
At this time, 1845, New Zealand began to attract notice, and a number of people left Sydney to settle there. Among them was the well known "Johnny" Jones. He succeeded in obtaining a large area of land from the Maories of Otago, and eventually became one of the wealthiest men in the Middle Island. I went back to the old business of stock-driving, and was sent up country, by Mr. Boyd, to bring down a mob of cattle to be shipped to Auckland. I made this trip successfully and returned to Sydney with my full complement. I remained in Sydney for some time, and one night walking down Pitt Street I fell in with a Dutch captain who had treated me badly sometime previously when I was in Adelaide. There were a few words between us, and he knocked me down with his walking stick, and put a large cut in my head. The Dutchman had two friends with him, and I got the worst of the quarrel, but I promised to have revenge. The next night I came across the Dutchman and four of his men. I had four friends with me, and as I always like to pay off old debts I commenced a quarrel, and the captain and his men got very much hurt. For a time I had to keep out of the way for I had given the Dutch captain a good thrashing. Mr. Boyd at this time, had a whaler, the "Lady Emma," Captain Bulger, laying in port ready for sea, and he recommended me to go on board and take a trip until the matter blew over, for if I was caught I should assuredly get put into prison, as the Dutch captain had been badly injured, having some of his ribs broken. I took the proffered advice and shipped. Some of my readers may say I acted very revengfully in this case, but I only ask them to put themselves in my place. I always disliked debt, and if I have an old score to pay, I endeavour to pay it sooner or later. At this time I was young, hasty and hot tempered, so let this be my excuse.
I left Sydney in the "Lady Emma," and commenced my new career as a whaler. We had hardly cleared the Heads when whales were seen spouting; the boats were lowered, and we succeeded in securing one. I thought it about the most exciting work I had yet been engaged in. Our cruising ground was on the coast of New Zealand, to which we at once proceeded. I was placed in the chief mate's boat as bow oarsman, and, as
New Zealand at that time was very thinly settled by the whites; there were only a few here and there, principally sailors living among the Maoris, who at this date were excellent fellows. We got some tons of sweet potatoes and a lot of pigs from the whites and the Maoris. After putting them on board, we replenished our water casks, and stood out once more for the whaling ground. We cruised off Howe's Island, and captured whales as fast as we could cut them in. One day all the boats were out after a "pod" of forty barrel whales. I was steering the captain's boat, and asked him to allow me to try my hand at lancing; he did so, and I was luck enough to kill three good whales that day. When we got on board the captain said I was plucky enough to make a good whaler, and he would give me his boat from that time forward. The boat steerer continued sick, so I remained in charge of the boat all the voyage. I grew very fond of the pursuit, which so pleased the captain that he told me that he would take me as chief mate on the succeeding voyage. Another day a very large whale showed up close to the vessel; four boats were lowered. I was head man in my boat, and pulled right on the whale, which with one blow of his tail sent my boat flying in the air. The other two boats had got fast to the monster, and away they went in tow like steam, and we were left struggling for our lives in the water. We all managed to get hold of an oar or a piece of the broken boat, the ship being about four miles to leeward of us and the other boats away with the whale. We had to hang on until the captain lowered a boat from the brig. He rescued us in a very exhausted state, but two of the poor fellows were missing, having been unable, apparently, to keep afloat. The three boats by this time were out of sight of the ship, and a gale of wind coming up and night setting in
I went to Twofold Bay, from whence Mr. Boyd was shipping cargoes of stock to the neighbouring colonies, and I found that my fracas with the Dutchman had blown over, and I was safe to roam about. Mr. Boyd asked me how I liked the whaling business. I answered, "Very much," and told him that Captain Bulger wanted me to go again with him as chief mate. He said, "You had better stop here for the present and superintend the shipping of the cattle and sheep," and he would see Captain Bulger, and if I was to be chief mate under him I was capable of taking charge as whaling captain. I informed him of all that had occurred on the voyage, including the loss of the men and boats and he went on board his yacht and ran up to Sydney, and I remained behind in charge. Mr. Boyd at once saw Captain Bulger at Sydney, and asked his opinion of my capabilities. He told him I was a smart man, and an expert, daring whaler, and requested that I might be sent again with him as chief mate. My employer said if I was as good as represented he would send me out as master, and he would put a sailingmaster in charge of the vessel, He despatched the yacht back to Twofold Bay, with a letter telling me to come up at once. I obeyed the summons, and went to Sydney and waited on him. He asked me if I would go on another whaling voyage. I i.e., a tenth of the entire profits, which, in the event of a successful voyage, would be handsome remuneration. I soon found myself on board of a six-boat ship. That means I could lower six boats and crews at once. I picked my own crew, and, with the
We saw no more whales until we got to the entrance of Torres Straits, when for six weeks the fires were never out. The place was full of forty-barrel whales. We had excellent luck until a gale came on, and the whales took off to some other cruising ground.
Seeing that we were not likely to meet with any more whales, I gave the sailing master orders to take the ship to Howe's Island, to the north of New Zealand. On our way there we captured one whale, and on our arrival we fell in with the brig "Woodlark," Captain Bulger. He informed me that so far he had had no luck, and intended to go to the Line and cruise for a few weeks, in the hope of meeting better fortune. His vessel was hardly hull down on the horizon when a large whale rose in sight. I had the boats lowered, and two of them got fast. The prize came towards the ship, but at about half a mile it sounded, taken both boat lines with it. I had my boat lowered, and at a short distance from the vessel, we laid on our oars, and waited for the whale to rise, which it did shortly afterwards, about 200 yards off. We pulled out to it, and with the aid of the other boats killed and brought it alongside, cut it up and "tried" it out. We had excellent luck here for about two months, and secured a large quantity of oil.
As we were running rather short of fresh water, we steered for the island of Espiritu Santo, one of the New Hebrides group. We arrived safely, and I despatched four boats ashore with the water casks. Ordered all the men to arm themselves, being aware that the natives of these islands were mostly cannibals, and not altogether to be trusted. They are of a copper color, and both sexes generally very well made and good looking. When the men landed, the natives came around them in numbers, offering them fruit and vegetables, for which the islands are noted, and made signs for them to come up to their village and
Having heard the firing on board, I had the two other boats lowered with men well armed, and we pulled for the shore. We met the other boats, and they returned with us, our force being now thirty-six men. This evidently overawed the natives, and we succeeded in getting our water off all right. A party of us ventured a short distance from the beach towards the huts, when we were saluted with a shower of arrows from an adjoining thicket. Fortunately no harm was done. We then concluded it was time to leave, but before we could put off again two of us were wounded, one on the back and myself in the neck. With the exception of these casualties, we got safely on board with our supply of water. I may remark here that, after such a warm reception, I made up my mind not to patronise Espiritu Santo again in a hurry, and I never after revisited it.
ChapterX.
More Whaling—A Visit to Honolulu—The French stowaways—A call at the Bay of Islands — Still the luck holds good—Taking a Whale into Sydney—On shore again—I relinquish the command of the Whaler—Mr. Boyd again my employer—A trip to Nelson—To Hobart with Cattle—Escaped convicts—Governor Price and his brutalities—I go to Western Australia.
Leaving the island of Espiritu Santo, we set sail once more for a whaling ground, in the neighbourhood of the Equator, and had an almost uninterrupted run of luck. One day all the boats were down chasing a "pod" of cow whales, when one of them showed fight, and turning upon one of the boats, smashed it into atoms. The men were all picked up by the ship immediately after. We killed five whales on that day but lost one of them. When the fish were "cut in" and "tried out," the men came aft and respectfully requested to be taken into some port where fresh meat could be procured. They had now been thirteen months on "salt junk," and were desirous of a change. I thought the request only reasonable, and ordered the ship to be taken into Honolulu, a French settlement on one of the Sandwich Islands, it being then the nearest port in our vicinity. We arrived there safely, and found it an excellent anchorage. I laid there for one month to give the crew a chance to recruit, and indeed they stood greatly in need of it. In the meantime I got in all my fresh supplies, pork, poultry, sweet potatoes, yams, and all kinds of fruit, with which providence seemed to have supplied this island in great abundance.
There was a French man-of-war lying in port while I was there, and the captain was very kind and friendly, I dined
Four days after leaving Honolulu a French brig passed us. I hove to, and signalled her to lower a boat, but she passed and took no notice, so I lost the chance of returning my unbidden guests to their own vessel. I presently fell in with plenty of whales, and for three months the fires were hardly ever extinguished, and I had got on board about 2000 barrels of oil. The men now become rather restive, and wanted another run ashore, and I ordered the ship to be taken to the Bay of Islands, New Zealand. There was a good deal of discontent displayed when the men learnt their destination. They wanted to go somewhere where they could "see life," so I told them we should cruise for a month off the Three Kings, and at the expiry of that time I would run the ship into Hobart, in Tasmania, and give them a spell. This pleased them all, and put a stop to their
On the first evening off the Three Kings, I saw a fire about six miles to leeward, and concluded it was a whaler "trying out." I found my surmise correct when I run the ship down towards it in the morning, and was surprised and pleased to find it was my old friend Captain Bulger, in the "Woodlark." His boats were down after a "lone" whale. I lowered four of my boats, and ran the ship about two miles further leewards, in the direction of where the whale was sounding. It came up very close to the ship, and was a monster in size. I immediately lowered my boat, put up a sail, and run right on to our prey, and put two irons into it. I went forward and succeeded in getting a lance in also, and killed it, but in doing so was knocked out of the boat, and was picked up by one of the "Woodlark's boats. We got the fish alongside that night, and Bulger and his chief mate came on board. There being little or no wind both vessels were hove to, and we made a merry night of it, for "Auld Lang Syne." Captain. Bulger was short, handed, so I proffered him the four French stowaways. He was very glad to get them, and took them off with him when he left. I gave them each ten pounds of tobacco, and a new rig-out from the slop chests, and they departed quite satisfied. In the morning we were busy "cutting-in" our prize of the previous night, when the look-out man cried out from the "crow's nest"—"There she blows," meaning that the whales were in sight. I asked, "Where away." He replied, "About four miles dead to windward." The boats were immediately in the water, and for four weeks we were kept very busy "trying-out" at the Three Kings.
The vessel was now very deep in the water and began to leak. I wished to remain out four months longer, but the men became dissatisfied with having to pump in addition to their other work. I had now been cruising for one year and nine months, and had on board 2600 barrels of oil, so I thought it perhaps would be discreet to humour the men and take the ship into port, so I called them aft and told them we should steer for Sydney in place of going to Hobart-town as promised before, whereat they gave me three cheers, and vowed they would all be glad to go another trip with Captain Barry. We shaped our course for
I and crew got great credit for our successful trip, and Mr. Boyd, our owner, made me a very substantial present in addition to my pay, and the men being paid off requested to be sent another voyage with me as soon as the ship was ready. After being discharged the vessel was put under repair, and I stopped at Mr. Boyd's house for a fortnight, and then made up my mind to give up whaling, for a time at least. I must confess I was rather fickle-minded in those days, and am afraid the infirmity sticks to me in my old age. I told Mr. Boyd my
For a week or two, while the "Flying Fish" was being got got ready, Baird and I roamed about and "saw life" as it was in Sydney in those days, and I cannot say it was much to boast of. At last my old craft was ready for sea again. Baird got his crew on board, up anchor, and got under way, feeling very proud of being in command. Mr. Boyd and several other gentlemen and myself accompanied him down the harbour. We left him at the Heads and returned in the tug-boat, the crew giving us the customary three cheers, and away they bowled, with a fair wind, for the wide Pacific, for a two years' cruise, for which she was well furnished in every way. It seemed to me very like parting with an old friend when I saw the last glimpse of the "Flying Fish."
After returning, I roamed about Sydney for a few weeks, and felt like a fish out of water, although the place was at the time quite livery, and business places were increasing very rapidly. I was continually pondering over the notion of going home to the Old Country. Mr. Boyd, whenever I met him, tried to dissuade me from the step, and proffered me employment again and again. At last I decided to defer my visit, and accepted his offer. He was a very large exporter of stock to all the neighbouring colonies, and he gave me charge of the shipping of all his cargoes; and I also looked after the men employed at an establishment he had where sheep were boiled down and the tallow packed for exportation. At this time, in 1847, he was sending great numbers of cattle and sheep to New Zealand,
I may here remark that I take to myself the credit of having despatched the first stock for the New Zealand settlers at this date. Of course, I must except the pigs landed by Captain Cook and others thirty or forty years previously. It has often struck me that their addition to the cuisine of the Maoris was the first step towards the abolition of the cannibal feasts of the islanders. Cannibalism gradually declined, and has been for years a tradition of the past savagery of these warlike and untameable natives. A barque being despatched to Hobart-town with a special cargo of sheep, I had to accompany them We arrived safely, and landed our cargo. One day, when on shore, I saw two men running from the wharf. The case looked suspicious, and I watched them, and presently one of them fell, and there was a report of a pistol. The man writhed in agony, for it appeared he had firearms concealed under his coat, and when he fell one of them exploded and shot him through the thigh. They were convicts, under sentence of banishment to Norfolk Island, a branch penal settlement for Tasmanian convicts. They had escaped from the penitentiary and got aboard a vessel lying in the harbour. The steward happened to notice them, and told the captain, who was going to signal for the police, when the escapees knocked him and the steward down, and secured them, the rest of the crew being on shore at the time. Taking a boat the convicts pulled for the wharf, and were making off when the accident I mentioned above occurred. They were taken into custody and speedily locked up, and, I suppose, eventually reached their original destination. Norfolk Island in those days was a complete terror to convicts, and only incorrigible felons were sent there. I have heard them say they would prefer death to being deported to that "hell upon earth"; and it is a fact that men have been known to draw lots to see which one would kill the other, and so get hanged and escape the terrors of a residence there.
Mr. John Price was, I believe, Governor of Norfolk Island and Superintendent of prisoners. If we are to believe the tales told about him he must have been perfectly fiendish in his
The captain a few days after informed me that the vessel was ready for departure, and going on board we sailed for Twofold Bay, where we took on board a freight of cattle for Nelson, New Zealand. "We made a rapid passage, discharged our cargo, and after lying in port four days left for Sydney, and arrived safely. I found on arrival that Mr. Boyd had chartered my old ship, the one I went to India in, the "Lord Lynedoch," to convey cattle to Swan River, Western Australia. The cattle were specially ordered, and when landed had to be driven up country to the, station, for which they were intended, a distance of about 200 miles, and for this purpose twelve horses were placed on board.
ChapterXI.
In Western Australia—I meet my fate at last—Courtship and Marriage—I wed a, fortune—Bad luck—The fortune fades away—Death of an old friend—Sundry disappointments—My wife and I leave for Sydney—Extravagance—Debt—Disaster—My wife dies—Mr. Boyd again my friend—I catch the gold fever — Off to California—Sydney rowdies—Trouble on board—A second vist to Honolulu.
We had a good passage, and after discharging his cargo the captain proceeded on to India with the ship. I had eight stockmen with me to drive the mob, and we camped about four miles from a small village called Freemantle. I took one of the men and rode to another small town called Perth. At this day it is a considerable place, and the capital of Western Australia It is twelve miles up the river running through a large plain, bounded by hills, and the water was there dotted with large flocks of black swans, the rara avis of old naturalists. My journey was to see the owner of the station for which the cattle were intended. I found the overseer, a Mr. Black, who sent two men to assist, and we went down and started the mob on the road to Perth, to which place I returned with Mr. Black. He invited me to go with him and visit some acquaintance of his in the town. I said I would, but did not care to remain long, as I would have to look out for a camping ground for the cattle. He said, "Never mind, they cannot come to any harm, there is good grass anywhere;" and this was really the case. I have hardly ever seen such magnificent feed as the country of Western Australia presented in those days. I accompanied my friend to a very nice-looking house in a quiet part of the town. We were shown into the parlour, where two ladies were seated. One of them
I remained a few days and got company back. I arrived safely at Perth, and lost no time in fulfilling my promise of seeing Mrs. Brown at Captain French's. I forgot to mention the name of her lady friend who was with her when I called the
As we went up to the captain's house we met Mr. Black leaving. I fancied he looked rather grumpy, and Captain French did not improve his looks by saying jocularly, "Hullo, Black, you must look out, or you will have Barry running off with my daughter." He muttered something I did not catch, and departed rather hastily, although pressed very hospitably to return to the house with us. Miss French received us at the door, and gave us a joyful welcome home. Her father passed into the house, and she detained me chatting about our journey, &c. Shortly after, Black unexpectedly returned, and, seeing us in conversation, went inside. Miss French seemed to me to wish
The next morning she asked me to drive her out, and I was only too happy to get the opportunity. We had not gone far when I noticed a peculiar change come over her. She became quite condential and tender in her
Two days later, Captain French, who by this time had grown apparently as fond of me as if I had been his son, said, "Barry, tell me the truth. Have you felt any affection for my daughter, for the devil's in the girl; I believe she is going mad about you?" I confessed at once, as well as I was able, that I was entirely bound up in her, and would feel proud and happy to make her my wife if he would consent. I had loved her from the first day I saw her, but not liking to take advantage of his hospitality and confidence I had refrained from mentioning it. The old fellow appeared overjoyed, and calling his daughter in joined our hands, and gave his hearty consent to our speedy union.
The day was fixed, and we were looking forward to the happy time, when my joy received a severe check. Miss French was a daring horse-woman, as, indeed, the colonial girls are generally. Four days before the date fixed for the wedding, we were out riding, and started a kangaroo. We both went off at a racing pace after it, and came to a fence. Without hesitation, my intended took the leap, but the horse she was on unfortunately struck the rail and came down a cropper, falling on his rider, who lay as if dead. I immediately dismounted and raised her up, and with the help of some farm people, near at hand, carried her home and sent for the doctor, who found that her leg and four of her ribs were fractured, and her body badly bruised. My poor girl lay for nine months before she became convalescent. During that time I never left her, except to attend occasionally to the captain's business. We had fitted out some whalers, that is, boats' crews, with boats and all the necessary implements for catching black whales, which then abounded on the coast, from Swan River to King George's Sound, and a very profitable game it was at that time. I was constantly getting letters from Mr. Boyd from Sydney, requesting me to return, and wondering what had detained me. I replied, and informed him what had happened, and told him how I was situated with Miss French. The weary days passed, and she began to mend slowly. I frequently drove her out, which seemed to do her good, but she always complained of a pain in her chest. At this time her poor old father took bad and was laid up, and my hands were full. I at last thought of Mrs. Brown, who was living at Perth at this time, and immediately went for her. She came gladly and nursed the captain, and took a good deal of trouble and anxiety off my mind. Both our patients were much better, so I thought I could venture to leave for a time. The shearing season was on at the station, and the captain wished me to go down and superintend the operations, so I departed, and arrived all safe and got the work in hand in a few days. I had been there a week, when one day I saw a lady coming towards the station, accompanied by two men. When she was near enough, I found it to be my fiancée, who had brought a young man down to take my place, and told me that her father wanted me at home. To hear was to obey, and I soon delegated the work to my successor, and prepared to accompany my love to the schooner in which she had arrived. We had a quick run up to Swan River, and
We were certainly very happy. Would that it could have lasted! Well, here I was at last, married, and apparently anchored for life. My wife did not come to me empty-handed; her father behaved very liberally, and gave her £1000 and 20,000 sheep. He also gave me permission to run them on the station, and, crowning his generosity, he appointed me manager at £400 per annum. So, taking all matters into consideration, I felt as if I had drawn a prize in life's lottery, and was very grateful for my good fortune. I took up my new position as soon as possible, and my wife followed me in a few weeks. The blacks in that part of the country were considered dangerous neighbours, and had in fact hitherto given a good deal of trouble; but I succeeded in making friends of the tribe in our immediate locality, and we got along pretty well. They certainly occasionally stole a few sheep, but I generally shut my eyes to their offences when not too glaring, and maintained peace and quietness by this means. The property was well watered and
I had been up about six months when one day my wife received letters from the settlement, and coming to me, said she wanted to go to Swan River. Her father was ill, and her uncle had arrived from Port Phillip. She had heard her father say that long ago he had borrowed a large sum of money from her uncle. From the tenor of the letter she imagined that there was something wrong. She was all anxiety to be off, so I decided to take her up to town. We made the passage in a small coaster, and on arrival found the old man very ill, and the doctor attending him told us he had very little hope of his holding out many weeks. His brother was in the room, and I was introduced to him. We remained in attendance on the old gentleman for about two months, and he still lingered. He had been a very strong, hearty man all his life, and fought a hard battle with the King of Terrors. I left the house one day to go down to the bay to a schooner going northward coastwise, as I wished to send up some things to the station, when a man on horseback galloped after me and told me I was to return at once, as the captain was in a fit. I took the horse and hurried back, but was too late to see my dear old friend again in life. He expired a few minutes before I reached the house. My wife was very nearly districted, and I had the utmost difficulty in getting her calmed down and to cease her vain regrets.
A few days after, the captain was consigned to his last resting-place. We stopped at the old home, and endeavoured to get the affairs of the deceased wound up. My wife being a better scholar and naturally knowing more of her father's business than I, busied herself in this matter, but found, to her dismay, that everything appeared to be in the utmost confusion and disorder. Her uncle and herself had many consultations on the subject, and I found at last that they could not agree, and matters grew very unpleasant. At last one day he told her flatly that he claimed the entire property in liquidation of a debt of £12,000, which, he alleged, had been owing to him for years by his late brother. My wife fired up at this, and was very indignant, telling her uncle her mind very plainly. He took matters very quietly, and told her to moderate her language, for although she was his niece and entitled to his affection and consideration, he would not put up
When I went home I told my wife of Mr. Boyd's kind advances, and suggested that we should go up country, but she
I awoke one night and found the house full of smoke. I was sleeping upstairs, and had only time to carry my wife out of danger when the flames burst out in every direction, and the place was completely consumed, along with four other houses adjoining. We found the remains of the servant in the ruins, charred to a cinder; and we supposed that the fire had probably occurred through her instrumentality. Female servants in those days were all convicts, and the majority of them had an inveterate habit of smoking tobacco in bed, which no amount of correction or punishment could overcome. Poor thing; if she was guilty of this filthy habit, she had paid dearly for it at last! We had not a vestige of clothing or furniture saved from the fire, and had to take furnished lodgings. I still had a few hundred pounds in the bank, and leaving my wife with a servant to attend upon her, I took a voyage to Port Phillip to look at a place I thought of settling on; but I could not arrange with the owners as to terms, and had to return to Sydney. When I arrived at home at night, my wife was at the theatre, and the servant was out; and I learned now, to my extreme sorrow, that my wife was becoming dissipated, and was in fact going the pace rather fast. In spite of my remonstrances, this state of things continued until poverty showed its ugly face rather plainly, and I had to sell what few things I had to pay her debts. She became a mother at this date, and being weakened by her excesses and trouble and anxiety, she was unable to rally, and breathed her last in my arms shortly after giving birth to a daughter. Notwithstanding all her failings I had loved her dearly, and bitterly regretted her untimely death. I felt that I was in some measure to blame, as I was hardly fitted by education or position to possess a wife brought up as she was. After she was consigned to her grave, I looked about for some one to take charge of my infant child. I found a kindly nurse, who willingly adopted her. I obtained some money from
We were walking down George Street one day and noticed a placard posted on the old barrack wall, "Gold, Gold, California," and then followed an advertisement that a vessel was to leave at a certain date for the new Eldorado. The announcement gave me a new idea. I would get there by hook or by crook, and said so to Baird. He commended the resolution, and told me he would let me have £100 to give me a fit out for the venture. At this time, 1849, great excitement prevailed about the Californian gold discoveries, and every one wanted to be off. I should have had some difficulty in securing a passage, but the captain of the barque was an old acquaintance and favoured me and so I got a berth in the "Eleanor Lancaster," the first vessel which left Sydney for California. She was terribly overcrowded. The present laws relating to passenger ships were not then in force I suppose, and men were taken like sheep, as many as the vessel could stow away. There were 560 passengers on board, and my readers can imagine that, coming from a penal settlement like Sydney, there was a tolerable admixture of doubtful characters in the crowd. These soon showed their true colours, and scarcely a day passed without a row or a stand-up fight. The P. R. seemed to be well represented in our ship, and the captain was powerless to preserve order, and generally let the rowdies fight it out. Ten days out, some of them came aft and made a lot of frivolous complaints about the provisions, and abused the captain roundly, saying they would have better food if it was to be found in the ship. The captain was rather alarmed at this behaviour, and spoke of arming the cabin passengers and some respectable fellows in the steerage. I dissuaded him from this measure, but cautioned him to keep a sharp look-out as quietly as possible. Ten or twelve of the most mutinous I had known years before as "ticket-of-leave men," and was well aware of their being very dangerous characters. They took but small account of human
Things were not altogether so pleasant in the cabin as one might have expected. The tables not being sufficient for all the company at one time, one half dined before the other, and this continually induced jealousy and provoked rather severe bickerings at times. One day the steward was bringing some fowls on a dish to the cabin table, when some of the passengers seized the birds and threw the dish overboard. The steward made an attempt to rescue the dainties, and in the scuffle that ensued his assailants pitched him through the skylight, which was open at the time, and he landed on the table to the great detriment of the crockery ware and our dinner. Captain Lodge was frightened out of his senses almost at these daily occurrence's, and vowed this should be his last trip with passengers, at any rate, from the port of Sydney. We put into Honolulu, which I had visited formerly in the "Flying Fish." We laid there five days, and took in a large stock of fruit, sweet potatoes, &c. Most of the passengers landed. I went to an hotel kept by a Frenchman, who immediately recognised me as having been there before, and made me very comfortable during my short stay. Some of the passengers carried their rowdy proclivities ashore and got locked up by the French Government officials, and the ship sailed without them. We resumed our voyage to San Francisco, and a few days afterwards I found that my clothes' trunk had been ransacked. I told the captain that I had lost a gold watch and twenty-five sovereigns. Further enquiry resulted in finding that his box and those of three other passengers had also been opened and money taken out. My suspicions immediately fell on two cabin passengers, named Brown and Jones, who remained on board the whole time we were on shore at Honolulu. I fancied I knew of a plan to fix the right man, and advised my fellow-victims to keep the matter quiet until we sighted land. I told them I was morally certain I was right in my suspicions, and I would guarantee a restoration of the property, or know the reason why. It may look a little like boasting, but being a remarkably, strong and active man I was afraid of no one, and could hold my own with the best of them if it came to fisticuffs, and to this day I am rather inflammable.
We sighted the coast of America late one evening, and I thought it was time to make a move, in the matter. I called the three passengers who had been victimised with me, and told them that the two men, Jones and Brown, were the thieves, and no one else; that we were close to port, and we had better make a search for our property. I cautioned them to arm themselves, as we might meet with resistance. The two men were sleeping in the same cabin, one berth over the other. I knocked at their door, and told them they were wanted. Jones called out, "Who are you, Sir, and what do you want with us?" I replied, "Come out, and you will see." He began to bully, and threatened that he would throw me overboard when he came out. I told them they were a pair of thieves, who had stolen our money while we were on shore in Honolulu. They immediately came out into the saloon, and Brown was evidently prepared for what was coming, for he had a "slug shot," or life preserver, in his hand. Jones came towards me menacingly, and I immediately knocked him down, and the weapon was taken from his mate. A number of passengers were aroused by this time, and crowded round us. I explained matters, and demanded that the men's boxes should be searched. They both strongly objected to this, and Jones made a spring at me, and caught me by the throat; but I was too strong for him, and he was easily mastered. The boxes were brought out, put on the table, and opened. In Brown's we found my watch and that of the captain, and the money apparently that we had missed. In Jones's trunk were two brace of pistols and a lot of powder and bullets, a purse with ten sovereigns and two rings belonging to the other passengers, and their crime was brought home to them beyond denial.
I said to Captain Lodge, "Put the handcuffs on these men at once; they must be made prisoners until we get on shore." Jones muttered, "I wish I had you on shore, I would soon put you on one side," and rushed at me; but, seeing him coming, 1 was prepared, and knocked him down with the butt-end of my pistol, and he and his chum were at once made fast and removed below. Three days after, we dropped anchor in the bay of San Francisco. Our captain on landing went on board an American man-of-war lying in the harbour, and reported the circumstances, and asked for advice from the captain. The latter told him he could not interfere in the matter; it took him all his time to look after his own ship's company. The
ChapterXII.
Arrival at San Francisco—Happy Valley—The Gambling Saloons— I try my luck at Monte and lose my money — I start the Butchering—My Friend Cox—Off to Sacramento—Good Luck at Diggings — Auctioneering and Hotel-keeping — I prosper—A big Flood—Again in Frisco—I decide to revisit Sydney—Back to Australia—Old Friends—My Youngster—An Offer of Marriage—Mr. Turner accompanies me back to 'Frisco—A little "Spec" in "Murphies"—Crime in San Francisco—Judge Lynch and the Vigilance Committee—I sell out in San Francisco and start for a New Goldfield.
At this time the grand "'Frisco" of to-day was a very in-significant place, mostly composed of rudely-built mud huts principally tenanted by Spaniards or Mexicans and Mormons. There were but few vessels in the harbour, the big rush not having yet set in, it being now early in 1849; but not one of the ships could boast of a crew. All the men had left for the diggings. The vessels were mostly from Australian ports; the gold fever had not extended to the Old Country or the American cities as yet. There was a place named Happy Valley, about half a mile from the beach, where about 2000 tents were congregated, and here the most of my fellow-passengers, and myself also, pitched our canvas houses. The goldfields were very difficult of access at this time unless one was well provided with cash, and many of the poor devils in the camp had landed with very little, expecting, I suppose, to pick up nuggets immediately on arrival. I had some such idea myself, so I suppose it was the generally fallacious belief of the new-chums.
The route to the diggings was by the Sacramento River, about 160 miles from San Francisco, and at this time only two small
Fortune soon threw this in my way. Walking along one morning, I came across three men in a sort of stockyard, killing a bullock. I spoke to them, but could get no answer. I found they were Spaniards who knew no English, but presently another man rode up who bid me good-day, and I returned the salute. He talked to the men in Spanish and I saw he was the "boss." I remarked to him, "I wish I knew where I could get a job at the butchering business." He asked me if I was a butcher, and I said "Yes, will you let me take the hide off this bullock?" He told one of the men to give me his knife, and I very soon had the animal stripped, being considered rather an expert at this business for many years past. The "boss" then told me his name was Cumings; he was an American, and would give me work at once if I liked. I thanked him and asked what were the wages. He told me he would give 300 dollars per month. I closed at once, and told him I should be with him early in the morning. I went back to the camp and told my mate of my good luck. I forgot to mention that I had taken one of my fellow passengers as a partner when we left the vessel, and we were now camped together. He had been a bank clerk in Sydney, and was like myself, out of funds. He wondered if he also could find employment, and decided to try. Next morning we proceeded to the slaughter yard. Mr. Cumings was there, and I at once asked him if he could find my mate work. I told him he was no butcher, but he would be very useful in driving a cart or anything in that way. He at last consented, and said he might drive the beef cart into town and make himself generally useful. Poor
We went to our work manfully. I killed and dressed the cattle at the yards with my Spanish assistants, and Cox disposed of the beef. We had been a month at work, when extraordinary reports came from the diggings and unsettled us again. Ships came from all parts of the world, and population poured in in one continuous stream. There was no lack of employment then, and very high wages were the rule. Immediately a vessel arrived in port the crews deserted for the gold fields, and labourers got any pay they liked to assist in discharging cargoes. Fleets of vessels kept on arriving, but very few could get away for want of crews, and the harbour presented a grand sight—a perfect forest of masts as far as the eye could reach. A steamer and a number of small craft were put on to carry passengers and luggage up the Sacramento, en route to the diggings, and I made up my mind to have a trip up and try my luck, although my employer offered me very great inducements to remain, promising to start me in business in the town, but it was no use. I had the gold fever very badly. My mate Cox showed no inclination to venture, and just then got an opportunity of joining a very smart business man, who had arrived from New York. They commenced gold-buying, a very profitable pursuit at the time, and eventually made a lot of money, in fact Cox became a rich man. I have more to say of him further on.
I paid 100 dollars for my passage in a boat up the river. We were nine days on the trip, and I frequently had to lend a hand in pulling the boat. We camped ashore at night. The Sacramento in those days (it was now April, 1849) was a grand river; the banks for miles were covered with wild oats five feet high, and game of all sorts, comprising elk, antelopes, and various other kinds of deer, abounded. There was one drawback to the enjoyment of the trip, and that was the plague of mosquitoes. At one place on the river, called the "Slew," from a peculiar bend it made, they bit powerfully enough to draw blood from a beast, and I felt considerably relieved when the "Slew" was some miles astern.
When we arrived at Sacramento, as the town was called, we
My companions were eight pleasant fellows, and, as most Yankees were then, and are still I suppose, very "smart men." We travelled fifty miles in two days, and arrived at Hang Town diggings. This lively place got its name from the fact of two men being hanged by some Mormons for stealing gold from a dish some time previously, and it retained its suggestive name for some time after. We pitched our tent, and had a look around the diggings, and went along a creek where a few men were working. They were very civil, and gave us all the information they could. Diggers at that time had not learned the reticence of later days, and those who had been a short time on the field would willingly lay a new-corner on, and instruct him in the then primitive methods of gold-saving. I set to work to pull up grass, and shaking the earth from the roots into a pan and then washing it off in the creek. At this work I used to earn one ounce of gold per day, and had I been a proficient hand I would have made four or five ounces in the same time. The gold was easily obtained then, and I soon began to manipulate the auriferous soil better. I remained three months on this creek, and obtained 11,000 dollars' worth of the precious metal, and hundreds of men made their piles at the same place.
A new rush then took place to another creek, about three miles off, and we went there, and were again lucky. I was a good deal exercised in my mind about my gold, and I had a quantity of it cached, or "planted," that is, hidden away in the ground, in two salmon tins. Every one kept his own gold, and it was rare for mates to know what each other had. Stores of all kinds were very dear, and were generally paid for in gold
Champagne was the favourite beverage of the mule-drivers, and the price then was ten dollars per bottle. The packing of goods to the diggings was mostly done by mules, and a very large business was done in buying and selling these useful animals. I was almost constantly engaged at the horse market, which was in a hollow about a mile from the Levee or
I had seven feet of water in the hotel, and the town being low and flat in its situation, the dead water remained for two months, and caused a deal of sickness, mostly fever and ague, and nearly ruined half the population. I was near to death's door myself with the epidemic, and when I was well enough to get about I found nearly all my earnings swept away, and I was almost a poor man once more. However, I plucked up heart, got the house into thorough repair, and business soon came back as good as ever.
In the spring of 1850 California got an immense addition to its population. The goldfields were extending and turning out better than ever, and among the new comers there were many black sheep, very dubious characters indeed: and, unfortunately for us, a great numher of these ruffians located themselves in our hitherto orderly town. Men were knocked down with "neddys" and slung-shots, in broad daylight, and robbed; and all manner of crimes were committed daily. Meetings were held at last by the more respectable portion of the community, a "Vigilance Committee" formed, and "Lynch law" put in force. Had this not been done, the place would have become unendurable. As it was, no one scarcely ventured out without being well armed, generally with a pistol or revolver in his belt. A good many men were "Lynched"—i.e., hanged—in Sacramento before any abatement of the lawlessness took place. I noticed particularly that whatever the crime was that was committed the Sydney men were blamed for it. No doubt many bad men, the dregs of a convict population, came from Australia to California in those days; but there were rowdies from New York, and gamblers and blacklegs from New Orleans and other American cities, who were equally as criminal as the Australians. Lynch law paid no respect to persons—its working was sharp, short, and decisive; and really the state of affairs at that time required the adoption of very vigorous measures, and this one did its work well.
About this time two large steamers, which came from New
On the trip down I witnessed one of those sanguinary scenes which were in those days very common. A deal of gambling was being carried on in the cabin, or saloon, as it is called in America, and a dispute arising between the gamblers, a fight ensued. One of the disputants drew his pistol and fired at his adversary, and shot him through the arm. His opponent returned the fire with his unwounded arm and killed the other. Then another shot rang out from the crowd, and the wounded gambler fell, hit again—this time mortally, for he died before we reached San Francisco. Nothing was done in the matter; the bodies were sent on shore and buried, and there was an end of it. Such encounters were then too common to excite much comment.
I took my lodgings at an hotel and looked round the city, and I could hardly believe my eyes. The town had increased as if by magic. No one would credit the mighty strides it had made. The streets were crowded with people at all hours, and the bay was one vast forest of masts, spars, and rigging. Vessels coming there had to remain, as I before mentioned. The crews were off without beat of drum the moment they set their foot on shore. I found also that in the matter of crime they were even further advanced than we were at Sacramento. Men were shot down in gambling saloons, and robberies were of daily, almost hourly, occurrence. At last a Vigilance Committee was formed, as the law seemed powerless to deal with the situation, and this body did more in a short time to restore something like order than the judges and police authorities could have accomplished in years.
One day two men were arrested for knocking a man down with a slung-shot and carried off to gaol. This was on Saturday. On the following day, Sunday, about fifty of the "Vigilants" went to the gaol armed, and taking out the prisoners, hanged them in the street. These two ruffians were Sydney men, and one of them I knew. His name was Whittaker. He was a passenger by the "Eleanor Lancaster," the vessel I came down in. "While in the street witnessing this shocking spectacle I fell in with my mate, Mr. Cox, whom I had left starting in business as a gold
In 1850, a vessel arrived from Sydney, and the Yankees crowded down to the beach and would not allow the passengers to land. However they succeeded in doing so somehow. San Francisco at this time was no paradise to live in. One was not sure when he left his lodgings if he would ever return. Without extreme caution, he was pretty certain to be knocked down and robbed or otherwise maltreated. Mr. Cox was interested in my account of Sacramento and determined to accompany me back for a visit, so we took our passages in the steamer and arrived at journey's end safely. Gambling was carried on here to a fearful extent. Gold was as plentiful as dirt, and easily obtained, lucky diggers thought nothing of coming into Sacramento for a spree and losing ten or twenty pounds' weight in gold in the gambling saloons before returning to the gold fields and replenishing their purses. Mr. Cox, after a few day's study of the town and its prospects, decided on starting a branch gold agency. He did so, and I believe it paid him handsomely.
At this time I fell ill again, and there were rumours of cholera visitations. From my former experience of this plague, I made up my mind to have a trip to Sydney once more. I had a very fair share of the business in the town and had made money. Besides the butchering and auctioneering the hotel returned about £400 per week. Of course expenses were very heavy, but a very good profit remained. I found a tenant for the house at 150 dollars a week, and was paid six months' rent in advance. I arranged all my other business, and left for San Francisco. My health had not improved, and I made what haste I could to get to sea once more. I found a barque called the "Lightning" about to sail, and engaged a berth in her, along with about
We were completely besieged on landing by crowds wanting to hear the news from the gold diggings. I escaped from them, and went first to the bank to deposit my money. I had brought £2000 and lot of nuggets, which I had purchased from Mr. Cox before I left. After transacting my business at the the bank, I turned to seek Mr. Baird, the friend who had enabled me, by the loan of £100, to go to California and meet with this success. I found he was at Twofold Bay, managing Mr. Boyd's business, so I had to defer my visit to him for a few days. I then went to see my little daughter, whom I had given into the hands of strangers after the death of her mother. The lady who had adopted her, lived at a place called Windsor, and thither I proceeded. I found the youngster had prospered very well. She was two months old when I parted with her, and she was now running about. The lady was very kind, and appeared as fond of her as if she were her own child, so I thought I could not do better than leave her in such pleasant quarters. I deposited £500 in the bank in trust for her, and, after staying a fortnight, I returned to Sydney. I found myself quite a lion, and most of my time was taken up in answering questions about the goldfields of California, until I grew almost sick of hearing the place mentioned. I had been a day or two in town when I met Mr. Boyd, my former employer, and he took me home to dine with him. I recited my Californian experiences and my success, and he grew quite excited over the subject, and vowed he would go there and have a look at the Eldorado for himself. He asked me to accompany him to Twofold Bay, and told me that I should there see my old friend Baird. I was delighted at this, and we left in his yacht, "The Wanderer," the same I mentioned in the early part of this history as the one in which Mr. Boyd had made the trip from England. We soon ran down, and, standing on the jetty, there was my old friend. I called out to him, but he did not recognise me at first, but on landing we were soon hand and glove. He was very glad to see me safe again. He said he had almost made up his mind that we were not to meet again. He opened his eyes when I told him of the handsome return his friendly assistance
I then decided to pay one more visit to my daughter at Windsor before my departure. On mentioning this to Mr. Turner, he offered to drive me there. We started with a pairhorse trap. I saw the little one and her guardian, and having completed my business, bid them adieu, and returned to the hotel. When I got there I found a woman — a very good-looking person, too—had followed rue. She appeared to be slightly under the influence of something stronger than
Leaving her to dream of the wedding-cake, our horses were put to, and Mr. Turner and I bowled gaily along to Sydney. He laughed very heartily at the rum-and-water episode, and my narrow escape from enforced matrimony. We reached Sydney that night, and I proceeded on board the "Star" and found Messrs. Boyd and Baird waiting to see me. Presently Mr. Turner joined us. During the evening he related my adventure with the would-be "Merry Wife of Windsor," and I got considerably chaffed over the affair. We had a merry night, and parted late. Next morning I got on board a good sea stock of porter, wines, and eatables of various kinds to supplement the ship's fare; and I also took twenty tons of potatoes as a speculation. In the afternoon we were towed down to the Heads, Mr. Baird sticking to me to the last moment, when I bade him farewell, and he returned to the tug-boat.
It was in July, 1851, when we commenced our trip. We had a very pleasant but uneventful voyage, and arrived safely with the whole of our stock supply in San Francisco. There were crowds of people to see the unwonted spectacle of horses being landed from such a distance; and as they were really good stock, and in capital condition, they attracted a good deal of attention. When placed in the market they brought extraordinarily long prices, and Mr. Turner's most sanguine expectations being exceeded by several hundred pounds. My modest speculation in "murphies" also paid well. I sold my twenty tons at a very high figure, the Californian market not being very well supplied at that time with vegetables. I remained a month in town, and lodged at an hotel in Broadway with Mr. Turner, who was amazed at the evidences of wealth and prosperity to be seen on every hand.
The town bad still further largely increased, and was increasing. Large stores and hotels were going up in every direction; but the morality of the place had not improved, robberies were as frequent as ever, although the Vigilance Committee—now a very powerful body—were doing their best to suppress crime. They had still a very great "down," I noticed, on the Sydney people—or the Sydney "Ducks," as they were called in those clays by Californians.
At this period there was a man named Belcher Kay who was port-warden of San Francisco, or, as we would term it, harbour-master. He had to board all vessels coming and going, and was very highly respected as an official. It afterwards came out, however, that he was the very prince of robbers; he was actually captain of a band of depredators who did nothing else but plunder, principally from the vessels arriving in port, getting all the needful information from their chief who had every opportunity in his vocation of finding out without suspicion where prey existed, as he was deeply in the confidence of the Government of San Francisco, and most of the captains frequenting the port. There was a ship leaving for New York, with a large quantity of gold on board, and a plan was devised between this worthy and his gang to ease her of this part of her freight. The night before the day of sailing, Kay was on board in the cabin with the captain and mate. At midnight two boats rowed silently alongside, and ten men crept up on deck from them. Six of them went down into the cabin, and the others went forward to keep the sailors down below. All on board were in bed. The robbers roused out the captain, mate, Stewart and Belcher Kay, and on pain of death ordered them to discover where the gold was stowed. The captain told them it was not yet brought on board. One of the gang told him that yarn would not do, as he had seen the boxes brought on board two days before. Of course he had been advised beforehand by Kay, who no stood looking on, the picture of innocence, and very much frightened, you may be sure. They ordered the captain and mate into their berth and locked them in, and went straight to the lazarette where the gold was placed, and took away the six boxes containing about six cwt., of the precious metal, put into their boats, battened the hatch down on on the crew, and got clear of. The robbers wore masks and could not be identified, and to this clay have never been traced.
A few days afterwards Belcher Kay was missing, and his hat and a small necktie were picked up on the wharf, stained with blood. Opinions were divided as to his fate. Some people thought he had probably been shot and thrown into the bay; and others guessed that he had obtained his share of the booty and taken French leave of the service. I am inclined to the latter theory, as I afterwards learned, that, although coming
This robbery, like many more, were charged to the account of the "Sydney ducks," with what amount of justice I will not pretend to say.
Mr. Turner and I were walking up Broadway one day, when we met my old friend Cox, the gold-buyer. I introduced my friend Mr. Turner, and as we went along Cox informed us that good fortune still befriended him, and he was almost in a position to give up business for the rest of his days. He told me, very mysteriously and earnestly, to sell out of my Sacramento property, and go to some of the new goldfields. I asked his reason for this advice, and he said I would soon find out for myself. When I returned to my house, knowing his advice was friendly, and was given for my good, I made up my mind to go up at once and see what was meant by it. Mr. Turner wished also to see Sacramento, and accompanied me. We took our passages in one of the river boats, and started. The boat had to call at a settlement called Benicia, on her way up, to land some cargo, and we took the opportunity of going on shore to see the place, which was new to me. A short distance from the landing-place we saw a great crowd of people standing round an oak tree, and two men adjusting a rope round one of the limbs. This we found was an impromptu gallows upon which to hang two Spaniards who had robbed and murdered two miners on the road from the diggings. "Judge Lynch" had condemned them, and they had but a short shrift. Mr. Turner and I got on board the steamer again, and reached Sacramento early next day. As I neared my hotel I saw large placards posted up in Sixth Street. The house was on the corner of Fifth and Sixth Streets, and these bills purported to caution the public about "Berry's house," and to
Mr. Turner and I went to Mr. Cox's office, whence he had just returned from San Francisco. That gentleman congratulated me on being clear of the house, and then told me that the Vigilance Committee had found out that I was from Sydney, and in their blind animosity, especially after the rows taking place in the house under Berry's management, had tabooed the hotel by means of the placards aforesaid, so he recommended me, as before, to remove to fresh fields, where possibly the fact of being an Australian would not be considered a crime. Mr. Turner on hearing this statement, decided that, being also a Sydney man, California might become "too hot" for him, and intimated his intention of leaving on the earliest opportunity and returning to his much maligned Australian home. Next day I saw him on board the down steamer, en route for Sydney, and I returned to Mr. Cox, and stayed a few weeks with him at his private house.
At this time, immense quantities of gold were arriving in Sacramento. New goldfields were being opened every week, and one, called Reddon's diggings, 250 miles north of Sacramento, attracted my attention, and I resolved to pay it a visit. I joined two other men and purchased a mule train of seventy-six animals, also quantities of flour and bacon, loaded up our mules with 225lbs. weight each, and commenced our journey to this far-off Eldorado taking eight hired men to assist us with the train. We were all well armed, having each a fowling-piece, and a six-shooter attached to our belts, as we were informed that we should probably find the Indians troublesome in the territory we were to pass through.
ChapterXIII.
Bound for another New Eldorado—On the road to Reddon's Fort— We go on to Shasta—The Modoc Indians—A Bloody Massacre and a Bloody Revenge—Gold in abundance—My Experience at Eureka and Salmon River—I settle down again as an auctioneer—Am robbed of £1300—I recover the money—Fate of the robbers—I take to myself a second wife — An Indian raid and massacre — A bloodthirsty vengeance.
We followed the banks of the Sacramento River for 100 miles. It was a good road, through a magnificent country. The valley was uniformly level, covered with luxuriant crops of wild oats, which appeared almost as if sown by the hand of man, and filled with game of every description, which was easily shot down. We got on finely for five days, and arrived at Neil's ranche, similar to a station in Australia. This ranche was owned by two Englishmen, who had married Spanish women, and the rancheros treated us very kindly, and purchased a lot of our flour and bacon. They gave us plenty of information as to our route, and told us where to cross the river. We rested here for six days, as some of our mules were knocked up. One day the "vaqueros," or stockmen, shot two grizzly bears and brought them in. There were about twenty Spanish stockmen employed on the ranche, and the herds of cattle were innumerable.
After leaving our hospitable entertainers, we had the worst part of the road to travel, and when we crossed the river we had forty miles to go before we reached our destination, Reddon's diggings, in exactly one month after leaving Sacramento. The population was about 2000, principally people from Salt Lake and Oregon, there being very few as yet who had found their way
After selling my interest in the mule train, I went to a small settlement called Shasta, about forty miles north from Reddon's fort, on the Oregon track. Some very rich creek diggings had been found here, and a great many of the miners had brought their families, and settled down and farmed this retreat in the wilderness. It was a remarkably quiet, pleasant place, and I made up my mind to settle down here for a while.
That winter a tremendous snowstorm occurred, and a great number of people lost their lives travelling from Oregon to Shasta. I stopped on until the spring came round, when I learned that a party of pioneers were going to Shasta Butte Valley to take up land, and I managed to get included. There were twenty in the party. They were mostly from Oregon, and several were Englishmen. The valley was situated about seventy miles from Shasta City, and our route lay through a very rough and difficult country, peopled by hordes of Indians. The road followed the Pitt River for about fifty miles, and this track was infested by a tribe known to be the most hostile in California. We passed one encampment, apparently without being noticed, as we were not molested. I should say there were at least 800 men and women, exclusive of papooses or children, in this village, The Pitt River was abundantly
It was a magnificent spot, and one of the finest pieces of country I had yet seen in California,—well watered, and with an inexhaustible forest of splendid timber convenient. We camped alongside the butte which gave the name to this earthly paradise, and turning out our mules we set to work to build a larger hut. We were engaged at this, and surveying the country for three weeks, when the party split up, each man taking up 1000 acres. Each lent the other assistance to fence. Some of the settlers were married men, having left their families in Oregon; these now went back for them, and settled down for life. The valley being sixty miles long by twenty broad, there was little fear of over-crowding for some time. Down the valley, to the west of the butte, there was a pass through the mountains leading into the Modoc Indian territory, and a great many emigrants came this way with their families and household goods, and swelled the population of Shasta Butte.
One day our peaceful settlement was rudely disturbed by eight horsemen riding in through the pass at a furious rate, who told us the horrible story of the murder by the Indians of over 100 emigrants, who were coming in. The savages had also stolen all the mules and provisions, and burnt the waggons. The white population of the valley, at this time, was about 500, and immediately on receipt of this terrible news a meeting was called together, and eight men deputed to go to another settlement, thirty miles away, called Eureka Valley, for assistance in avenging this blood-thirsty deed. The population at this place was about 2000, and they responded heartily to the request; 500 men armed themselves and came over at once to Shasta Butte. We mustered a contingent of 300, and the 800 men well armed and generally well mounted, elected four captains, and set out
About three miles off we described a small lake, and as smoke was to be seen in several directions around the lake, we concluded the Indians would be found there. Ben Wright, an old frontier man, took the lead by virtue of military experience, and dividing our force into four detachments, despatched them to different positions, at a distance of about half a mile from a belt of rushes which surrounded the lake and within sight of the fires, round which we calculated there were about 600 Indians. We waited until darkness set in, and then, at a given signal, made a rush into the fringe of scrub, but found the fires deserted, and the Indians being evidently scattered around the lake, we withdrew, and kept a sharp look out until day light, when the Indians showed in a body outside their leafy barrier. We immediately charged them, shooting down men, squaws, and papooses indiscriminately. The slaughter—for it could hardly be called a fight—-was over in a half hour, and we reckoned that scarcely fifty out of the mob escaped. The rest were despatched to the "happy hunting grounds" without the slightest show of mercy, and the poor emigrants were fearfully avenged.
The loss on our side was trifling, ten killed and twenty wounded, the onslaught being so sudden that the foe could not make any stand at all. We searched their camps round the lake, and found most of the property of the murdered emigrants. These savages were a portion of the Modoc tribe, who were noted for their savage, predatory habits. Their weapons were bows and arrows, although a few had rifles, a bullet from one of which managed to reach me, and inflicted a slight wound in the leg. Among our party were a lot of men from the Missouri, who were accustomed to Indian warfare, and had had many bouts
A considerable town was now being formed, and population poured in very fast. Yankee traders began to show up, and business became very brisk, and this seemed somehow to rouse up the vagabond spirit within me once more. I concluded I must be moving, so I sold out what land I had, and bid good-bye to Shasta. I rode over to Eureka, where a new goldfield had just been opened, and thousands of new-comers were pouring in. Four men accompanied me. When about five miles from Eureka, one of my companions dismounted to get a drink in a creek we were crossing. He had hardly stooped down a second when he cried, "Get off, boys, and come and look here." We hurried off our mules, and there, in a crevice of the rock, the gold was shining plainly. The lucky discoverer obtained one pound weight of the precious metal in an hour. It being late in the afternoon we camped, and that night we all joined in partnership to work the creek. We fossicked here for four weeks before any other diggers came to disturb us, and in that time obtained 120lbs. weight of gold among the party. Then some men put in an appearance, and the gully was soon rushed. In two months from the date of our discovery there were 1000 diggers there busily at work, and many tons of gold were taken out. The creek was called after our thirsty mate who first saw the gold, and was known after as Stewart's diggings.
Winter was now coming on, and I decided to go to Eureka for a spell. We divided our gold, and I found I had 61lbs. weight for my share. I found Eureka a very comfortable place to winter in, but everything was frightfully dear. The tracks were all snowed up, and the mule trains could not travel, so that there was at times a scarcity of provisions. However, I could obtain all I wanted, having plenty of money, and enjoyed myself accordingly. There were three large gambling saloons in the settlement, into which I often strolled, bat, with my early Californian experience of "Monte," I did not try my luck at the
I saw one party start out for the new rush, and on the following day I was on the road with nine others, each mounted on a mule, and leading another carrying swags. We had pretty difficult country to pass through, but managed to cover 35 miles the first day, and camped on the bank of a creek. It was a glorious moonlight night. We hobbled the mules and turned them out, keeping two made fast near the tents to get in the rest with in the morning, cutting a lot of wild peas, which grew here in great profusion, for their forage. In the middle of the night the two tethered mules commenced snorting at something and broke away in terror. One of the men got up and looked out and roused us all up, saying there must be Indians about. We immediately armed ourselves and sallied out. One of the men wounded himself in the leg. Two of the men fired at something ahead of us, and it rolled over. When we got to the spot we found it was a huge grizzly bear they had killed. In this part of California the grizzly bear, panther, and California lion are very plentiful. There had been other bears about that night evidently, for all our mules stampeded, and it took all the next day to get the mob together again. The rest of the party went to collect our mules, and I remained in the tent with our wounded comrade. Our party did not return till near nightfall, and during the day we heard a great many reports of firearms, and my patient, Jones, would insist that our mates were engaged with the Indians, and we passed a day of terrible anxiety. However, they all returned safely, and during supper we asked them what all the firing was about. They were surprised at the question, and said they had not heard the firing, and had not fired a shot that day. While we were talking we heard the Indian war-whoop. We immediately flew to our rifles and prepared for a scrimmage. Another whoop was borne on the wind, and at the same time a party of twenty well-armed diggers rode up to our camp. These men were en route for the Salmon River (our destination), and leaving Eureka some hours after us, had overtaken us.
We agreed to travel together, and felt pretty safe with this strong addition to our forces. Many of the new-comers were originally from Oregon, and were well used to Indian warfare, having had many tussels with the savages before. We formed ourselves into watches that night, ten men in each, for so many hours. Just at daylight one of the watches saw an Indian crossing the creek, and gave the alarm. We were up in an instant, and took to our arms; at the same moment a volley of arrows flew over our camp from the top of the creek bank. We at once charged up the creek bank, and came face to face with about seventy Indians, with eight mules loaded with swags, evidently stolen property. We fired as fast as we conld, and wiped out forty of them, and captured the mules, the rest taking to flight. We returned to camp, had breakfast, packed our mules, and started once more on our journey. We got about two miles on the road, when we came across nine dead bodies of diggers, who had been apparently bound for the same place as ourselves, but had been waylaid by the murderous Indians, and slaughtered mercilessly: there were also two dead mules. Those we had taken from our foes that morning had belonged to these poor fellows, and we were thankful that the latter were amply revenged. We dug a large hole and buried the bodies together. Some of them had many arrows in them, and all were stripped naked. We searched around, but got no further clue as to who or what these unfortunates were, so we passed on, and left them in their lonely grave in the wilderness. We had occasion, before reaching our journey's end, to perform the sad ceremony once more. Our mate Jones, who had shot himself in the leg, got very bad on the journey, which was exceedingly rough travelling, and, mortification setting in, he died. We consigned him to mother earth, and kept on.
We were now in very broken country, and had to cross a number of deep canons, the vernacular for ravines. At one where we camped I picked up two pieces of gold when I went clown for water in the morning. I showed them to my mates, and wanted them to stop and prospect the canon further, but they were too eager to get to the Salmon River, and we pushed on, reaching our destination that night.
The thirty of us now joined in one party, and as we had eighty mules, and provisions were very scarce, we despatched ten of our mates with the mules to Shasta for a large stock of necessaries.
There were about a thousand miners on the river. A great many had arrived from Eureka and other places, and many had to leave on account of the scarcity of provisions. I have frequently seen mules killed and the meat sold at four dollars per pound, and very often none other was obtainable. I remained here for six months until our party dissolved. I took my share of the gold and two mules, and joined some men who were homeward bound with their "piles," which was the diggers' term for a sufficiency of gold.
There were twenty five of us, who started for Shasta City, and I do not believe each man carried less than 80lbs. weight of gold on the saddle with him. I had 87lbs. weight myself, part of which I had obtained at Eureka, but the greater part at Salmon River. We were four days reaching Shasta, which I found transformed into a large and busy town. When I left in the previous year it mainly consisted of canvas tents and but few houses, now it possessed whole streets of stores and hotels.
A banking institution had just been initiated, Adams' bank, and I there deposited my gold for safe keeping, and took lodgings at the Eagle Hotel, and looked round to see how the land lay. I fell in with a smart business man named James Lodge, and joined him in starting a saleyard; and we made money fast, principally by the purchase and sale of mules, and at the same time I carried on business as an auctioneer, We then built a large meat mart, and christened it the "City Market," and erected spacious cattle and slaughter yards, and very soon did a roaring trade in the butchering business. In the fall of 1852, we obtained a contract for the supply of meat to the troops at Fort Reddon, which paid well. We purchased beef on foot at 7½ cents per lb., and our contract price to the commissariat was 30 cents, which might be considered a very fair margin for profit. Mr. Lodge kept the business going in the saleyards. I bought all en route for Oregon.
One day I was returning from the fort, after having received a sum of money on account of our contract. I had £1300 in my saddle bags—when I was bailed up by four highwaymen, who made me dismount, and they then eased me of any saddle-bags. After inspecting the contents, one of them considerately remarked to his mate, "give the poor devil a few dollars to help him on the road," which he did. I said very little to them as I thought it very possible they might complete the job by putting a bullet through me. They were all masked, and dressed as Mexicans, but appeared to speak English very well. This happened about twelve miles from the fort; and as soon as the robbers left me, I galloped back and saw the commandant, Colonel Wright, and informed him of my mishap. He asked if there was any possibility of overtaking them, and I said if no time was lost they might be caught. I could identify their horses if I could not tell the men, and it was likely they would be fallen in with at Neill's Ranche or Tecumah House, about forty miles from the fort. The Colonel immediately ordered twelve well-mounted men to accompany me, and we set off in pursuit.
We rode all night, and at daylight we saw, distant about a quarter-mile, four mounted men coming up from the bank of the river, I said to the sergeant, "I believe those are the men we want," and we immediately galloped to the spot. The men, on seeing us, crossed the river by plunging in and swimming their horses, but it was an awkward crossing-place, and we saw one of them swept off and drowned. His horse turned and swam to to one side. None of our party seemed to fancy swimming the river, and began to look for a safe place to make the passage. I called out that I would give fifty dollars to each one who crossed with me, and five followed my lead. We plunged our horses in and came out safely on the other side, the remainder of the troop went further down and got safely over. The six of us let out after the fugitives and soon got sight of them. When we neared them they dismounted and fired at us, shooting two of the soldiers and one of the horses, and got behind the trees and dodged from one to another, and it was nearly an hour before we finally captured them. They were the men we wanted, for
It was found that they had been sticking up in all directions, and had actually murdered two rancheros. We took them to the fort, where one of them, a Frenchman, but who spoke English well, offered to turn approver and split on his gang if the colonel would not hang him. The latter turned a deaf ear to his overtures, and ironed them and placed them in the guard-room until morning, when they were sent on to Shasta in a waggon to take their trial. When the waggon came to Clear Creek diggings, where about 1000 men were working, the news of their capture spread like wildfire, and the entire population turned out, stopped the waggon, took out the prisoners, tried them by lynch law, and hanged the three on one tree. A deal of trouble was thus saved to the Government, and the inevitable fate of the criminals was anticipated.
The winter of this year, 1852, was a very severe one, and almost put a stop to mining pursuits throughout the country. The diggers crowded into Shasta, and entirely exhausted the accommodation of the place. It was "lodging on the cold ground," and no mistake; a dollar a night was cheerfully paid by frozen out miners for the privilege of spreading their blankets under a roof, and the floors of every hotel were crowded nightly. My partner and I were making money fast at this time. I had the roughest part of the business, no doubt, and often had to camp out, when driving cattle, covered with a buffalo rug, with the sky for a canopy.
At last I thought, as matters were moving smoothly, I would try home comforts once more, and decided to get married again. I was at this time courting a young woman who came from the States, and was serving in the Eagle Hotel, a house I frequented. After a few preliminary visits, I popped the question, was accepted, and we were married at once. My wife was a famous business woman, and objected to any fuss, but I insisted on doing the thing in style, and invited about three hundred guests, and gave them a spread, which is doubtless remembered in Shasta to this day. It cost me about £500. I then purchased
We had at this time a sort of local government, and a gaol was built for evil-doers. Two hundred men were called out who were to go and exterminate the Indians. The majority who volunteered were persons who had suffered injury at the hands of the red man. The Government arranged to pay them, and I was appointed to take command of the troops. My wife was greatly against my going, and, so to please her, Colonel Wright, of Fort Reddon, released me by sending one of his subaltern officers to take charge, and I did not accompany the destroyers. They were out six months, and in that time they drove nearly all the predatory tribes from the Pitt River. They showed no quarter, but slaughtered all they fell in with, men, women, and children. It certainly seemed a savage retaliation, but there was no other course open, and it may be believed that it was long ere Shasta was again troubled with Indians.
ChapterXIV.
A Terrible Blow—Stoppage of Adams' Bank—I lose a large sum—More Indian Troubles—I sell out at Shasta—Back in San Francisco—Off to Sydney—A Drunken Skipper—I arrive in Australia again—To Melbourne—The Early Days of the Victorian Goldfields—I meet Peter Lalor—The Story of the Eureka Stockade—Early Days at Ballarat—How the Revolt began.
I now sold out of the sale-yards to Mr. Lodge, and took another partner—a German named Vanwe—into the butchering business, which bad now become too extensive for one man to manage. I had a long journey before me, having to proceed to a ranche in Napier Valley, about 200 miles distant, to receive a lot of cattle I had bought some time before from a Spaniard. I started, and was about eight miles on the road, at a place where the coaches changed horses, when a messenger came up in hot haste with a letter from my partner, containing the unpleasant news that Adams' Bank had stopped payment that morning. As all our capital was deposited in it, I hurried back at once, and found the report was only too true. We were almost ruined.
This bank was one of the greatest swindles ever worked in California, so prolific of smart Yankee operations. The head-quarters of the institution were in San Francisco, and agencies were to be found in almost every town up-country. When the fountainhead dried up, the branches collapsed. In fact, it was a preconcerted thing, for everyone of them stopped on the same day, and thousands of trusting people were ruined.
My partner and I lost about £12,000 by this mishap; and if we had not had a lot of stock which had been previously paid for,
I again departed to bring the cattle from Napier Valley which we had purchased from a Spaniard named Valon. I intended to make Hyde's ranche the first night, but I lost my way through inattention and probably thinking of Adams and Co. At last I pulled up at a shanty on the roadside, which had apparently been recently erected. It was kept by two Frenchmen. Here I obtained forage for the horse and food for myself, of which we both stood in much need. Shortly afterwards two men rode up, who turned out to be stockmen from Hyde's ranche. They told me I was ten miles out of my road. We left together in the morning, and arrived at the ranche about four in the afternoon. I had had many dealings in cattle with. Mr. Hyde, who was very glad to welcome me, and insisted on sending his men to bring my cattle from Vaion's ranche, while I spent a few days with him. I remained five days.
While there a man named Kit Carson came to the ranche with a drove of sheep from Salt Lake. This was the first mob of "jumbucks" I had seen driven since I left Australia. There was a young person in this party who was ostensibly a sheep-dealer, and evidently well up to business, who interested me strangely. We rode over the ranche together, and conversed about stock and cattle-dealing, etc., and the dealer displayed a considerable knowledge of the subject. On the second day of their stay I discovered my quondam friend was a female in man's attire. She was known under the soubriquet of "Captain Jack." She could ride well, throw the lasso, and was a dead shot. Altogether, she was the most remarkable specimen of the "feminine gender" lever fell in with. That night Mr. Hyde determined on a little jollification, as it was possible I might never be under his roof again. I had informed him of my intention to sell out and return to Australia.
There were a few Spanish women living on the ranche, and "Captain Jack," who among her other accomplishments was a splendid dancer, got up a Spanish dance, called a "fandango," or something of the kind, and amused us famously; indeed, I think it was the merriest night I had ever spent while in California. The "captain" accompanied Mr. Hyde and myself into Shasta next day. Hyde went home with me and stopped a few days. In the meantime I asked my wife to give a party, and to send an invitation to "Captain Jack," She did so, and "Jack" came dressed as a regular swell, in male attire, of course. Mrs. Barry had heard me speak so often of "Captain Jack," that she had a great desire to see this curiosity of her sex. When our guests had retired, she told me that she wished no further acquaintance with such a strong-minded party. I thought at the time the "green-eyed monster" had a little to do with the matter, but, if so, there was little cause, and "Captain Jack" dropped out of our society. I saw her leaving Shasta, well mounted, dressed in boots and breeches, a revolver at her belt and a pair of pistols in the holster, and thought that any young man who trifled with the affection of such an Amazon was likely to speedily come to grief.
In a few days Hyde's men arrived at Clear Creek, twenty-five miles off, with our cattle, and as I was in treaty to sell out to my partner, he, Mr. Hyde, and two others went out to value the stock. This completed, a valuation of the rest of the property belonging to the firm was made, and my partner took everything over, and paid me £5800 for my share and interest in the business. I had my dwelling-house, some horses, and other property, which I busied myself in disposing of, and when the Shasta people found I was determined to leave they very kindly gave me a public dinner, at which champagne flowed pretty freely.
In the midst of the revelry, four men galloped into the town with the news that the Pitt River Indians had returned. At this time numbers of families from Oregon had settled on the river. The husbands and fathers were away digging, and the Indians had swooped down on the camp, and murdered about thirty white women and children.
This startling report immediately broke up our convivial party. A meeting was forthwith held, and about 300 men at once volunteered to go and exact retribution, and, if possible,
A party of men was despatched at once by the Government to seek the savages, as the authorities were determined not to allow this outrage to pass unpunished. The military commandant being an old acquaintance of the Colonel, I asked him, as a favour, to allow me to take one of the youths away with me, and I would try and civilise him. He was good enough to do so, and I took the young savage home. My wife had lately been confined, and was now recovered. I disposed of the house and other property, and got ready for another flitting. At this time a steamer came up the river to within thirty miles of Shasta, and my late partner, Vanwe, drove us all down to the landing, where I parted from him with regret, and going on board the small steamboat we cast off, and commenced our journey to Sacramento, which was 250 miles distant by water.
The boat was very much crowded with passengers, but we managed to squeeze in for the voyage, and reached Sacramento pretty well tired out, but without any mishaps. I found the town immensely improved since I had left it, and the population better organised, and a little more civilised. A good deal of their antipathy to the "Sydney Ducks" had apparently died out. Business was remarkably brisk and flourishing, and my wife tried to persuade me to start once more in business, but I was bent on seeing Sydney again, otherwise I might have stopped.
We remained at Sacramento for three weeks, and then left for San Francisco in the steamer "New World." We arrived safely, and I took a furnished house in Broadway, and waited for the first ship for Sydney. In two months a large American
I disposed of the goods I had brought, and realised a very handsome profit out of the speculation. I was not long ashore when I fell in with my old friend and fellow-voyager, Baird, who had been out with me in the "Flying Fish." I was then staying at an hotel, but finding that Baird had a house to let at the Glebe, in Sydney, I rented it, and., having furnished it, we moved into it at once, and my friend Baird lived in the house adjoining. I found out that, by a singular coincidence, that he was now short of cash, although he had some property. I had thousands, and as he had been kind to me in my adversity, I told him he could have a thousand pounds to start in any business he liked. He wanted me badly to purchase a barque then lying in the harbour, fit her out, and go a whaling cruise; but I steadily set my face against that. I had had enough of whaling.
He informed me that my old employer and benefactor, Mr. Boyd, had started for California in his yacht, the "Wanderer." He had called in at some of the islands, and while at Owhyhee, the natives had set upon him and killed him. I was very much shocked at this intelligence. I felt as if I had lost a near and dear relation. I have been ashore at the place, and knew the treacherous character of the natives well. I should have thought Mr. Boyd knew better than to trust himself with the cannibals, but he was always a fearless, trusting fellow—peace be to his ashes.
I was thinking seriously of going up to the gold fields, which were then creating a great stir, and Sydney was beginning to feel the effects. People were flocking in from all parts, and business of every kind became excessively brisk. I was going down George Street to the bank, one morning, when I met a man named William Fox, who had been a mate of mine in the early Californian days. He had just arrived from Melbourne, and had a lot of quartz specimens, containing gold, with him. I invited him home with me, and he stopped a few days, and said I had better accompany him back to Victoria, and invest in the quartz reefs his specimens represented, and as I thought it was not a bad idea, I at once made up my mind to go.
I went to Baird and asked him to accompany me, and have a look round, as he might meet with something advantageous, and he agreed. We were passing along the street, and saw a crowd, which we joined, and found they had assembled to see "Bill Nash" carried out of a gold-broker's office by five policemen, and taken to gaol. It appeared he had been gold-buying, and by using false weights he had been amassing money fast, and robbing the unsuspecting diggers. He was now found out, however, and being tried, was sentenced to one year's imprisonment. This was the notorious character I mentioned in the earlier part of my work as having driven his carriage before that of the Queen.
My wife and I went to Windsor to see our little girl. She had grown and prospered well, and when I spoke of taking her into my charge, her adopted mother would not hear of it. She was as much attached to her as if she were her own. As there was no help for it, I left £100 for her use, and we came away. Mrs. Barry was very anxious to accompany me on my trip, but as she had an excellent neighbour in Mrs. Baird, and had made a small circle of acquaintances, I persuaded her to wait until I had prospected the new country.
In the spring of 1855 Bill Fox, Baird and I went to Melbourne. When we arrived everything was in disorder, the natural consequence of the neighbourhood of the goldfields. The hurry and bustle of business reminded me of the palmy days in San Francisco. The town was full of people of all nationalities, and a man with a little capital and prudence could hardly go-wrong in making money. I remained in Melbourne, and Fox and Baird went up to the Steiglitz diggings, where the quartz
Going along Bourke Street I met a friend I knew in San Francisco. He was called Luby. There were two gentlemen with him: their names were Peter Lalor and Ivern. We had a long chat about the goldfields in California, and the effects of the gold excitement in Victoria. Lalor gave me some notes of his from his diary and note book about the Eureka Stockade affair, and I now write them up in this book.
For the first few months after the discovery of gold in Victoria, many shrewd persons believed that the Colony would be ruined by its seeming good fortune. None of the ordinary industries could be carried on whilst workmen were so scarce and wages so high. Happily, however, these gloomy expectations proved fallacious, for, in 1852, when the great stream of people from Europe began to flow into the Colony, every profession and every trade sprang into new and vigorous life. The vast crowds on the goldfields required to be fed, and the farmers found ample market for their corn, and the squatters for their beef and mutton. The miners required to be clothed, and the tailor and shoemaker must be employed, whatever might be the prices they charged. Mechanics and artisans of every class found their labours in demand, and handsomely paid for their work; the merchants also found trade both brisk and lucrative. While the imports in 1850 were worth only three-quarters of a million, those of three years later were worth about twenty times that amount. After this enormous increase in population and business, it was found that there was quite as great an opportunity of gaining riches by remaining quietly engaged in one's own occupation as by joining the restless throng upon the gold-fields. The public revenue of the Colony was, in 1852, six times, and in 1853 twelve times as great as it had been before the discovery of gold, so that, both as individuals and as a nation, the people of Victoria had reason to be satisfied with the change.
There existed, however, one drawback, for the attractions of the goldfields had drawn from the neighbouring Colonies, and more especially from Tasmania, great numbers of that class
There were in 1852, several bands of these ruffians, sweeping the country and robbing in all directions. As the gold was being conveyed from the diggings, escorted by bands of armed troopers, the bushrangers lurked upon the road, treacherously shot the troopers, and rifled the chests. On one occasion their daring rose to such a height that a band of them boarded the ship "Nelson" whilst it lay at anchor in Hobson's Bay, overpowered the craw, and removed gold to the value of £24,000, remarking, as they handed the boxes over the side of the vessel, that this was the best goldfield they had ever seen.
To prevent any further introduction of these undesirable immigrants, the Legislature, in 1852, passed what was called the "Convicts Prevention Act," declaring that no person who had been convicted, and had not received an absolutely free pardon, should be allowed to enter the colony; and that all persons who came from Tasmania should be required to prove that they were free men before being allowed to land. Any ship captain who brought a convict into the colony was to be fined £100 for the offence.
Meanwhile the goldfields were growing apace. The discovery of the Eureka gravel-pits and Canadian leads, made Ballarat once more the favourite place for gold-finders, and in 1853 there were about 40,000 diggers at work on the Yarroweé. Hotels began to be built, theatres were erected, and here and there a little church rose among the long line of tents which occupied the slopes above the creek. Below, on the flats, the scene was a busy one. Thousands upon thousands of holes were sunk in all directions, from which men emerged and disappeared like ants, each bearing a bag of sand, which the other threw on a wheelbarrow or slung over his shoulder, and then carried forward, running nimbly along the thin paths among a multitude of holes till he reached a little creek, whose waters were turned to a yellow stream of mud. Such was the scene which presented itself by day; but at sunset a gun was fired from the
In some tents the miners sat around on boxes or stools, while, by the light of flaming oil cans, they gambled for match boxes filled with gold dust. In others they gathered to drink the liquors illicitly sold by the "sly-grog shops." Many of the diggers betook themselves to the brilliantly lighted theatres, and made the fragile walls tremble with their rough and hearty roars of applause. Everywhere were heard the sounds of laughter and good humour.
Then, at midnight, all went to bed except those foolish revellers who had stayed too late at the "grog shop." At dawn, again, everybody was astir, for the day's supply of water must be drawn from the stream ere its limped current began to assume the appearance of a clay-stained gutter. Making the allowances proper to the occasion, the community was both orderly and law-abiding, and the digger in the midst of all his toil, enjoyed a very agreeable existence.
He had but one grievance to trouble his life, and that was the monthly payment of the license fee. This tax had been imposed under the erroneous impression that every one who went upon the goldfields must of necessity earn a fortune. For a long time this mistake prevailed, because only the most successful diggers were much heard of. But there was an undistinguishable throng of those who earned much less than a labourer's wage.
The average monthly earnings throughout the colony were not more than eight pounds for each man; and out of this sum he had to pay thirty shillings for a mere permission to dig. To those who were fortunate, this seemed but a trifle, but for those who earned little or nothing, there was no resource but to evade payment, and many were the tricks adopted in order to dodge the Commissioners. As there were more than one-fifth of the total number of diggers who systematically paid no fees, the
The police were in the habit of devoting two days a week to what whs called "digger-hunting," and as they often experienced much trouble and vexation in doing what was unfortunately their duty, they were sometimes rough and summary in their proceedings, hence arose a feeling of hostility among the diggers not only to the police, but indeed, to all the officials on the goldfields. The first serious ebullition of the prevailing discontent took place on the Owens River, where a commissioner had been maltreated. Violence, however, was deprecated by the great body of miners, who held large meetings in order to agitate in a more constitutional manner for the abolition of the fees. At first they sent a petition to Governor Latrobe, who declined to make any change.
It was then hinted that, possibly, they might be driven to use force, and the Governor replied that he was determined to do his duty. In August, 1853, when the agitation was increasing, Latrobe hurriedly reduced the fee to twenty shilling per month. This appeased the miners for a time, but the precipitancy with which the Governor had changed his intention, showed too plainly the weakness of the Government, for, indeed, there was scarcely a soldier in Victoria to repress an insurrection if one should break out.
Among the confused crowds on the goldfields, there were a great number of troublesome spirits, many of them foreigners, who were only too happy to foment dissension. Thousands of miners had been disappointed in their hopes of wealth, and being in a discontented frame of mind, they blamed their misfortunes entirely on the Governor.
In spite of the concession that had been made to them, through all the goldfields a spirit of dissatisfaction prevailed; mutterings were heard as of a coming storm, and Latrobe, in his alarm, sent to all the neighbouring Colonies to ask for troops. As the Ninety-ninth Regiment was lying idle in Hobart-town it was at once despatched to Melbourne. While matters were in this state, Governor Latrobe retired from office, and in June, 1854, Sir Charles Hotham arrived to fill the position.
On his first arrival he showed that his sympathies were, to a great extent, with the diggers, but he could scarcely be expected to make any important change until he had been a few months in the colony and had learnt exactly the state of affairs. Meanwhile the discontent on the goldfields was daily increasing. The months of September and October in 1854 were exceedingly dry; the creeks were greatly shrunk in volume, and in many places the diggers could find no water either for drinking or for gold-washing, and their irritation was not at all soothed by the arbitrary manner of the commissioners and the police. Besides this, the government had thought it necessary to form a camp on the goldfields; so that a large body of soldiers dwelt constantly in the midst of the miners. The soldiers and officers, of course, supported the commissioners, and, like them, soon came to be regarded with the greatest disfavour.
The goldfield population was in this irritable state when a trifling incident kindled an extensive revolt. A digger named Scobie, late one evening, knocked at the door of Bentley's Hotel at Ballarat. Finding the place closed for the night, he tried to force an entrance, and continued his clamour so long that Bentley became angry, and sallied forth to chastise him. A crowd gathered to see the fight, and, in the darkness, Scobie's head was split open with a spade. Whose hand it was that aimed the blow no one could tell, but the diggers universally believed that Bentley was himself the murderer. He was, therefore, arrested and tried, but acquitted by Mr. Dowes, the magistrate, who was said by the diggers to be secretly Bentley's partner in business.
A great crowd assembled round the hotel, and a digger named Kennedy addressed the multitude in vigorous Scottish accents, pointing out the spot where their companion's blood had been shed, and asserting that his spirit hovered above and called for revenge. The authorities sent a few police to protect the place, but they were only a handful of men in the midst of a great and seething crowd of over eight thousand powerful diggers. For an hour or two the mob, though indulging in occasional banter, remained harmless.
But a mischievous boy having thrown a stone and broken the lamp in front of the hotel, the police made a movement as if they were about to seize the offender. This roused the diggers to anger, and in less than a minute every pane of glass was
Meanwhile a company of soldiers had set out from the camp for the scene of the riot, and on their approach the crowd quietly dispersed, but by this time the hotel was reduced to a heap of smouldering ruins. For this outrage three men were apprehended and taken to Melbourne, where they were tried and sentenced to imprisonment. But Bentley was also re-arrested and tried, and as his friend Dowes could, on this occasion, be of no assistance to him, he was sentenced to three years hard labour on the roads. Dowes was dismissed from the magistracy, and Sir C. Hotham did everything in his power to conciliate the diggers. They were not to be thus satisfied, however, and had a stormy meeting at Ballarat, in which they appointed a deputation, consisting of Kennedy, Black and Humphrey, to demand from the Governor the release of the three men condemned for burning Bentley's Hotel. Hotham received the deputation very kindly, but declined to accede to the demand, because, he said, the word "demand," was not a suitable term to use in addressing the representative of Her Majesty.
As the diggers were haughty, and refused to alter the phrase, the Governor intimated that, under these circumstances, no reply could be given.
ChapterXV.
The Story of the Eureka Stockade (continued)—The Diggers and the Soldiery—Taken by surprise—A short but bloody conflict—Capture of the Stockade—Escape of Lalor—Sympathy with the diggers, and its effect—I return to my own story—I fit out a whaling expedition—The wreck of the Dunbar—I start cattle dealing—Bushrangers—We lose our horses—The capture of the robbers—A horse-dealing story—"Black Bill."
The delegates having returned to Ballarat, a great meeting was held, and Kennedy, Humphrey, Black, Lalor and Verne made inflammatory speeches, in which they persuaded the diggers to pass a resolution, declaring that they would all burn their licenses and pay no more fees. Skirmishes between the soldiers and diggers now became frequent, and, on the 30th November, when the last "digger hunt" took place, the police and soldiers were roughly beaten off. The diggers among their tents set up a flagstaff, and hoisted a banner of blue, with four silver stars in the corner. Then the leaders knelt beneath it and, having sworn to defend one another to the death, proceeded to enrol the miners and form them into squads, ready for drilling.
Meantime the military camp was being rapidly fortified with trusses of hay, bags of corn, and loads of firewood. The soldiers were in hourly expectation of an attack, and for four successive nights they slept fully accoutred, and with their loaded muskets beside them. All night long lights were seen to move busily backwards and forwards among the diggers' tents, and the heavy tread of great bodies of men could be heard amid the darkness. Lalor was marshalling his forces on the slopes of Ballarat, and drilling them to use such arms as they possessed, whether rifles or pistols, or merely spikes fastened at the ends of poles.
Sir Charles Hotham now sent up the remaining eight hundred soldiers of the Ninety-Ninth Regiment, under Sir Robert Nicoll, and to these he added all the marines from the men-of-war and nearly all the police of the Colony. They were several days on the march, and only arrived when the disturbance was over. The diggers had formed an intrenchment, called the Eureka Stockade and had enclosed about an acre of ground with a high slab fence. In the midst of this stronghold they proclaimed the "Republic of Victoria," and here they were able to carry on their drilling unmolested, under the command of the two leaders—Verne, a German, and Peter Lalor, the son of an Irish gentleman.
They sent out parties in every direction to gather all the arms and ammunition they could obtain, and made extensive preparations for an assault, but never imagined that the soldiers would dream of attacking them until the arrival of Sir Robert Nicoll. They kept guard it is true, but only carelessly. Captain Thomas, who commanded the troops in the camp, determined to finish the affair by a sudden attack, and on the Saturday night, while the diggers were amusing themselves in fancied security he was carefully making his preparations. On Sunday morning, just after daybreak, when the Stockade contained only two hundred men, Captain Thomas led the troops quietly forth, and succeeded in approaching within three hundred yards of the Stockade without being observed.
The alarm was then given within, the insurgents rushed to their posts, and poured a heavy volley upon the advancing soldiers, of whom about twelve fell. The attacking party wavered a moment, but again became steady, and fired with so calm and correct an aim that whenever a digger showed himself, even for a moment, he was shot. Peter Lalor rose on a sand heap within the Stockade to direct his men, but immediately he fell, pierced in the shoulder by a musket-ball. After the firing had lasted for twenty minutes there was a lull, and the insurgents could hear the order "Charge," ring out clearly. Then there was an ominous rushing sound, the soldiers were for a moment seen above the palisades, and immediately the conflict became hand to hand. The diggers took refuge in the empty claims where some were bayonetted and others captured, whilst the victors set fire to the tents, and soon afterwards retired with one hundred and twenty-five prisoners.
A number of half-burnt palisades, which had fallen on Lalor,
On the following day, four soldiers who had been killed in the engagement, were buried with military honours. Many of the wounded died during the course of the following month, and in particular the colony had to lament the loss of Captain Wise, of the Fortieth Regiment, who received his death wound in the conflict.
When the news of the struggle, and of its issue, was brought to Melbourne, the sympathies of the people were powerfully roused in favour of the diggers. A meeting, attended by about 5000 persons, was held near the Prince's Bridge, and a motion proposed by Mr. David Blair, in favour of the diggers, was carried almost unanimously. Similar meetings were held at Geelong and Sandhurst, so that there could be no doubt as to the general feeling against the Government, and, when at the beginning of 1855, thirteen of the prisoners were brought up for trial in Melbourne, and each in his turn was acquitted, crowds of people, both within and without the courts, greeted them, one after another, with hearty cheers, as they stepped out into the open air, once more free men. The commission appointed by Sir Charles Hotham, commenced its labours shortly after the conclusion of the riot, and in its report the fact was clearly demonstrated, that the miners had suffered certain grievances. Acting upon the advice of this commission, the Legislative Council abolished the monthly license fee, and authorized the issue of "Miners' Rights," giving to the holders, on payment of one pound each per annum; permission to dig for gold in any part of the Colony. New members were to be elected to the Council, in order to watch over the interests of the miners, two to represent Sandhurst, two for Ballarat, two for Castlemaine, and one each for the Ovens and the Avoca diggings. Any man who held a "Miner's Right" was qualified to vote in the elections for the Council.
After a long interview with my friends, I had a good look about Melbourne, and took a rest for a while. One day I was at lunch in my lodgings, when I received a letter from my old friends Baird and Fox, from the Steiglitz Diggings, asking me to come up. I went immediately, and found that they had expended £800 in buying an interest in a quartz claim—all their money in fact—and as yet had got no returns. The prospects from the stone were pretty good, but I imagined the gold was lost in the crushing process, which was the primitive Californian one, common Mexican "arrestra," simply two huge boulders dragged round in a trough by a horse, attached to a cross beam and upright post. At any rate, the fact was patent that they had got nothing for their outlay, and there being little appearance of future dividends, I persuaded Baird to come away with me and look at a schooner I had seen lying at Geelong for sale. If she suited him, I said I would buy her, and give him a start in the intercolonial trade. We went down to Geelong, but could not came to terms about the schooner, so we went up to Melbourne again.
There was a fine brig, called the "Jane," lying in the river Yarra, which was for sale. Baird said she was well adapted for a whaling vessel, so I purchased her for £2000, and became a shipowner. I installed Baird at once as captain, and he managed to ship a few hands, and we took the brig down to Sydney for a fit out.
In a very short time Baird had his complement of men, his number of boats and all whaling gear, with two years' stock of provisions; and when all was ready, I found the outlay had cost me £4000. I arranged with Captain Baird that he should have one-eighth of the profits, if any, of the cruise, and £2 per week wages, and if he made a successful voyage he should become half owner of the brig on his return. The "Jane" was towed down to a place called Spring Cove, near the Sydney Heads, and a large party, including Mrs. Baird, Mrs. Barry, and myself and friends, went down and spent the last night on board, and were pulled up by the crew in the ship's boats next day.
On the following day my investment was under way, and if good wishes could avail, she was sure to make a fortunate trip. I looked round for a week or so, but saw nothing suitable to go into; and as inactivity did not suit me, I determined to return
One morning, as I was in George Street, Sydney, there was a rumour about a ship being on shore at the Sydney Heads. This was in 1857.
A great gloom was cast over the colony by the loss of a fine ship within seven miles of the City of Sydney. The "Dunbar" sailed from Plymouth in that year, with about a hundred and twenty people on board, many of them well-known colonists who had visited England and were now on their way homewards. As the vessel approached the coast a heavy gale came down from the north-east, and, ere they could reach the entrance to Port Jackson night had closed around them. In the deep and stormy gloom they beat to and fro for some time, but at length the captain thought it safer to make for Sydney Heads than to toss about on so wild a sea. He brought the vessel close in to the shore in order to search for the entrance, and when against the stormy sky he perceived a break in the black cliffs, he steered for the opening. This, however, was not the entrance, but only a hollow in the cliffs, called by the Sydney people "The Gap." The vessel was standing in for the rocks when a mass of boiling surf was observed in the place where they thought the opening was, and ere she could be put about she crashed violently upon the foot of a cliff that frowned ninety feet above the fragments and the drowning men.
At daybreak the word was given that a ship had been wrecked at "The Gap," and during the day thousands of people poured forth from Sydney to view the scene of the disaster. On the following morning it was discovered that there was a solitary survivor, who, having been washed into a hollow in the face of the rock, lay concealed in his place of refuge throughout that dreadful night and all the succeeding day. A young man was found who volunteered to let himself down by a rope and rescue the half-dead seaman. To prevent the repetition of so sad an occurrence lighthouses were erected for the guidance of ship-captains entering the harbour.
After I had seen the wreck I called a sale at my house, and disposed of all the furniture, etc., and left for Melbourne with my wife and child and the Indian boy, who by this time had
While thus engaged I one day fell in with a cattle-dealer named Tom Jones, an old friend of mine in the early days in Sydney. We immediately fraternised, and the result was that he persuaded me to join him and go up-country buying cattle, and driving them on to the various goldfields and there sell them. We soon made our arrangements, and Jones and I, and the Indian lad, started for a station I was acquainted with to purchase a mob of cattle, I took about £1200 in cash with me, in £20 and £50 notes, which I took the precaution to carry in a broad belt under my clothing, as "sticking-up" was very rife in those days; and I soon had occason to be thankful for this foresight.
We called at a roadside house in the Black Forest for refreshment and feed for our horses. After I had satisfied the inner man, I went out to the stables to see how the horses were feeding, when lo and behold the steeds had flown or had been spirited away. I immediately went back to the house and reported our loss. The landlord seemed to take the matter very coolly, and merely uttered the word "bushrangers," and as the Black Forest was one of their noted haunts, we concluded it was all up with our quadrupeds. The landlord asked if we had lost anything else, and Jones said he had a lot of money sewn up in his saddle, but did not satisfy his curiosity as to the amount, for it began to enter his mind that his questioner knew more about the abstraction of our horses than he cared to divulge. Jones, who was a very outspoken fellow, made no secret of his thoughts, but flatly told him so. The Indian boy had seen the landlord talking to three men while we were inside, and the landlord had told him to go into the house, and this strengthened our suspicions of foul play, and we determined to wait and see further into the matter, if possible.
Jones told me secretly that he had £800 sewn up in the lining of his saddle—a rather expensive lining, I thought just then. About two hours after we had missed our horses, eight mounted policemen rode up to the house. We immediately told them what had happened, and of the money in Jones's saddle, and of our suspicions of the landlord. Six of the police, accompanied by Jones, on one of their horses, set out to look for the bushrangers, and two stopped with me at the house. About two hours after the party left the Indian boy came running in and told us our horses were coming up the road. We went out, and at the moment four men rode by at full gallop, but one of the horses, which I took to be mine, stuck up his rider and refused to pass the house.
There was one police horse in the stable, but he was immediately brought out, and one man mounted and rode after the gang, and the other officer and myself ran down the road to where the horse was playing up with his rider, and refusing, despite whip and spur, to move on. The mounted policeman fired at this man, who immediately jumped off the horse and ran into the bush, which at this place was remarkably dense and almost impenetrable. I jumped on the horse the robber had left, and saw now that it was Tom Jones's steed. I also held the policeman's horse while he and his mate scrambled into the thicket after their prey. They succeeded in catching him in about ten minutes and we took him back to the house and secured him.
We saw by certain but almost imperceptible signs that our worthy host and the prisoner needed no introduction. They were evidently no strangers to each other. The policeman and I overhauled Jones's saddle, and found a new piece of flannel on the inside, and just as I was about to rip it open Jones and the party of police returned from their unsuccessful search. I handed over the saddle to allow Tom to make his discovery himself, telling him we had got his horse and saddle back, and also the rider. Tom opened the lining, and, to the astonishment of the party, brought forth from this hiding-place £800 in bank notes and some bank receipts.
He handed £50 to be divided among the policemen. They decided to stay that night, and try and devise some plan for the capture of the rest of the thieves, and cause a restoration of my steed also, and in this they were successful, as the sequel will show. It was now dark, and one of the policemen interviewed
He further said the three brothers were "old hands," that is, ex-convicts from Hobart-town, and advised the police to keep out of the way for a few hours, and they would possibly capture the whole gang, who were sure to return to the house. Upon receipt of this information the sergeant, in command, took the landlord into custody, handcuffed him, and put him in the stable with the other prisoner, and placed a guard over them. He stationed the rest of his men to watch for the coming of our free-and-easy friends.
About four o'clock in the morning, three men came on foot to the back door of the house and, knocking softly, said, "Are you asleep, Jack? Get up and let us in." The sergeant opened the door, and Jones and the four officers pounced upon them, and had them down and secured before we, in the front of the house, could get round to assist. It was lucky they were taken by surprise, as each of them carried loaded revolvers. We found the horses fastened up about one hundred yards from the house, After breakfast, we accompanied the police, who took their five prisoners to a small town about twelve miles distant, called, I think, Heathcote, where they were charged before a magistrate with robbery, and committed to Melbourne for trial, and we were bound over to appear as witnesses. The sessions being close at hand, we were obliged to forego our cattle-dealing for a time, and attend the court at Melbourne. When the day came, we gave witness against the gang, and four of them were sentenced to two years hard labour each. The landlord got clear off, but was again arrested on leaving the court on another charge, and returned to gaol. This broke up one gang of these murderous pests for a time.
While in California, I thought I had heard enough of violence and robbery, but Victoria seemed to carry off the palm in those days. There were regularly organised gangs of marauders, who were called bushrangers, who permitted no one to pass without fleecing him, and it is possible, seeing the columns of
I stayed a week or two in Melbourne, and found out that my wife did not like the place. It certainly was very lonely for her, having no friends or acquaintances. She asked me to take her back to Sydney, and leave her with Mrs. Baird, of whom she had grown to be very fond, she being the first and only female acquaintance Mrs Barry had made since we left California. Captain Baird had been gone now about ten months in the brig, and I thought I might learn some intelligence of him, and arranged to make a trip to Sydney, and leave Mrs. Barry there as she desired.
I saw Jones the next day, and informed him of my change of plans, and told him that as the Indian boy and he seemed to agree very well he could take him with him. He was a capital rider, and would be very useful to him. Tom was very glad to get him, and this matter being settled, we went and had a little parting "spree," which I think must have degenerated into a complete fuddle, as we found ourselves, in the morning, minus our cash and our watches and it served us right. Of course we "kept it dark." The next day Tom and the boy started up country in the cattle trade. Jones was to keep the boy for twelve months, and give him two pounds per week, and pay his expenses, which was not so bad for the young Indian savage I thought.
I took my wife to Sydney in the steamer, and installed her with Mrs. Baird, who was very glad to have her back again, as she felt very lonely herself without her husband. Just then the whaling barque "Lady Emma" arrived in port with a full cargo, and knowing Captain Buger, I went on board to ask him for news of the "Jane." He informed me that Baird and himself had been together three months previously, and that at that time Baird had got about 700 barrels of oil on board, and had parted with him, Captain Buger, to cruise at the Three Kings.
I was overjoyed to hear this account, and now felt assured that, barring accidents, Baird would have a lucky voyage. Captain Buger wanted me to resume the whaling business, but I declined, and told him that my mind was made up to go back to Victoria. Something told me that I should do well there,
I arranged matters with my wife, who tried hard to get me to settle down in Sydney. I placed £300 in the bank to her account, and taking the residue of my stock of cash, I bid goodbye to her and Mrs. Baird, and left in the Melbourne steamer. We were six days on our passage, and had frightful weather. A great many female passengers were on board, and were terribly frightened. It was one continuous scene of terror and alarm, and I decided, when at last I set foot on shore, that I would try and give lady-carrying vessels a wider berth in future.
There was a very old friend of mine named Lake keeping an hotel in Melbourne, and I told the cabman to drive me to his house, and I took up my lodgings there for one month before I commenced to do anything to speak of. I purchased a horse, saddle, and bridle, paying £50 for the turn-out, and rode out with a party I had made an appointment with to look at some horses in a paddock four miles from town, which were for sale. The man, who was called "Black Bill"—he gave no other name—went into the paddock with me, and we rounded the horses up. They were a first-class lot, and adapted principally for coaching. I asked him where was the owner of the mob. He said he was in Melbourne, but he was prepared to deal about them. I told him I preferred to deal with the principal always. He pressed me very hard to make him an offer, but I began to suspect there was something wrong. I put him off by telling him I would consider the matter, and let him know my intentions that night, intending meanwhile to make inquiries.
When I got home to the North Melbourne Hotel I asked Lake if he knew "Black Bill," in the horse-dealing line; and although he knew nearly all this fraternity then in Melbourne, he pleaded ignorance of this gentleman's acquaintance. I told him he was coming in in the evening, and he would have an opportunity of giving me his impressions of him. "Black Bill" arrived in due course, accompanied by a rough and dirtier-looking vagabond than himself, and introduced his friend as the owner of the horses. Lake, who had been scrutinising the pair, formed a similar opinion of them to myself, and advised me to have nothing to do with them; and at last went so far as to give
In the morning Lake drove me out to the paddock where the horses had been, but they had disappeared, also the pseudo owners, It was fortunate that I declined dealing with these gentry, as I afterwards learned that they had stolen the mob from a station in the interior They were disposing of them some time after in Ballarat, and were arrested and tried, and sentenced to four years each for horse-stealing.
ChapterXVI.
Once more in Melbourne—I start in the coaching business—On the Geelong-Ballarat Road—A disastrous accident—I relinquish the life of a Jehu—I regain possession of the Indian boy—Total Wreck of the Brig "Jane," my Whaler—A terrible loss—Down on my beam-ends once more—I start butchering at Ballarat—The "Saveloy Boom"—Gold tempts me again—Our reefing spec. at Brown's—An ugly Quarrel—A Second Edition of the Ballarat Riots narrowly averted.
I rambled about Melbourne for some time, but could see nothing suitable to go into. During my peregrinations one day I fell in with a man named Seward, whom I had known in San Francisco at a time when he was in a large way of business, and reputed to be very wealthy. But now a sad change had come o'er the scene. Poor Seward was very shabby, and actually without a shilling, as he himself informed me. By a series of misfortunes in business he had lost all his wealth. I was very sorry for him, and handed him a pound-note, and told him to go up to my hotel and I would see what could be done for him when I returned. I went at once to Mr. Thomas Labey, and asked him if he could find him employment in his office. I recommended him as a first-class business man and a clever accountant, and Labey told me I had better send him down to the office.
I found Seward waiting for me when I returned, and he was overjoyed to hear of the chance of employment. Next day I gave him £20, and he got himself a good fit-out of clothes, etc., of which he stood much in need, and I accompanied him to Mr. Labey's, who, after a few inquiries, installed him as clerk, and I left him an altogether different being from the day before.
I now grew tired of inactivity, and decided to take a trip to the goldfields. I sold my horse and went to Geelong, en route for Ballarat; but in Geelong I met an old friend of my early days, named Harry Dewing, who, in company with a partner named Harry Lascelles, was running a line of coaches to the goldfields. I found there was an opening here, and I gave £1000 for a share in the business. Coach-driver's wages were then £12 per week, and I thought, being a tolerable whip, that I might as well earn that amount myself, and accordingly mounted the box of the Ballarat coach. Thinking I was settled now for a time, I sent to Sydney for my wife and child.
I had been driving for some time, when at last, by an unlucky accident, my career as a "Jehu" was cut short. I used to drive through Steiglitz, a diggings township on the road from Geelong to Ballarat; and about five miles from this place there was a very long and steep hill to descend. One day, in going down with a load of twenty passengers, the wheel broke, gave way, and the horses getting frightened, bolted. My nerves were pretty steady, however, and I held on to the leaders until near the bottom of the hill, when the coach capsized, and my freight was scattered in all directions. One woman and a little girl were killed out-right, and a young man had his leg broken, several other passengers being slightly injured. One of the pole horses had his leg broken, and I had to shoot him. An hour afterwards the down coach arrived and took the wounded passengers back to Geelong, and another was sent up to continue the journey so unhappily interrupted.
It was an accident which might have occurred to any driver at any time in the same place, and I could not lay any of the blame on myself, but when I got back to Geelong I told Dewing I would drive no more. Of course there was an inquest, and as there was considerable rivalry and opposition in the coaching business at this time, there was a clamour about furious driving, etc.; but it was held to be an accident, and one for which no one felt more regret than myself.
After this I was employed principally superintending our yard and the line on the road. My wife arrived from Sydney, and we took a house at Newtown, furnished it, and lived for some time in contentment, and Mrs. Barry grew to like Geelong as a place of residence better than any place we had been in as yet. My usual luck about this time again showed itself. My two
However, there was the whaling brig, which might soon be expected in port with a full cargo, so I looked on matters philosophically and thought they might have been much worse. I told my wife one day I thought I would go back to Sydney and await the arrival of the "Jane," and at this, for the first time, she showed a little temper, and turned restive, telling me that we had done nothing but travel since leaving California. Of course, I could not deny the fact, and remarked that we would have still to "move on," I immediately called an auction sale, sold off all the furniture, and we went up to Melbourne direct, and put up at my old quarters with Mr. Lake, in the North Melbourne Hotel. I informed Lake of all that had transpired since I left him; and when the recital was concluded he advised me to go into a better speculation than coaching, or the chances were I would soon "go broke," myself, and I agreed with him.
One morning my wife and I were walking towards the cattleyards, when she cried, "There is Peter;" and, sure enough, there was Peter, the Indian boy I had left with Tom Jones, riding to the yards. We walked towards him, and immediately he perceived us he jumped off and ran to us with tears in his eyes, asking us to take him back, and he would never leave us again. When he got a little quieter, I asked him where his master was, He said he thought he was at the paddock some distance off, where he had a lot of fat cattle ready for the market. He told me that he was worked very hard, and would like to get back into my service. We took him to the hotel with us, and I got a horse from Lake, and accompanied the boy to the paddock, which was about six miles out. Peter was very much afraid Jones would beat him for not returning sooner. I was sorry to see that the lad had evidently been cowed, and determined, if possible, to put an end to the system.
At the paddock there was a house at which Tom Jones lodged. Peter knocked at the door, which was opened by a young woman, who said that Jones had not returned yet. A man also came to the door, who asked my business, and said that Jones was away
I had waited for an hour, and there was no appearance of Jones, so I told Peter to get his horse and accompany me back to Melbourne. He went to the stable for the purpose. When the man in charge saw him going, he told him to stop, for he was sure Jones was looking for him. I said, "Never mind Jones, if he is always flogging the lad it is time he got into better hands," and I told him to come away, whereupon the man seized the bridle and pulled the boy off the horse. He fell heavily and seemed hurt. I dismounted, and asked the inhuman brute what his name was, he replied, Foxon. Whereupon I told Mr. Foxon I would summon him to Court next day for assaulting the lad. Peter made some remark, and Foxon turned and struck him on the head and knocked him down. My patience was now quite exhausted, and I at once felled the ruffian and kicked him soundly. He got up and pitched in, and, being a big strong fellow, we had a pretty severe tussle. However, I got the best of him, and gave him a good well-deserved thrashing.
We were thus engaged when Jones rode up, and, as I was bleeding pretty profusely, he did not know me at the time, and asked, in some astonishment, whatever was the matter. Foxon began to enlighten him, and said I was stealing the boy, when he interfered, hence the present row. I went over to the stable, and Jones followed. He asked me what was my business with him or the boy, and as soon as I had spoken, Jones said, "Is that you Barry?,' It is, said I, "what is left of me." He said, "What a pity you did not tell Foxon who you were, and this unpleasant affair would not have happened. I told him I kept quiet, as I wanted to find out how the boy was being treated,
We then left Jones, Peter going back with me to my lodgings, and I found that beyond working the lad sometimes excessively, Jones had never illtreated him, but had threatened to flog him sometimes, with a view of enforcing his wishes. However, I had got at the right party in Foxon, and I was satisfied. Jones wanted me to join him in business, saying he had done extremely well, and, stock-dealing was a paying game, but I declined, as I intended to go to Sydney to see about the "Jane," and my whaling venture. Peter left his service that night, and Jones was very sorry to part with him. He gave him £100, a gold watch, and a fine lot of clothes, for, as he told me, he had really been very faithful and useful to him in the business. Mrs. Barry was very glad to get poor Peter back again.
I stopped on with my old friend Lake for nearly three months, and Jones was a constant visitor. One night we were playing a game of cards, when Lake came in and handed me a Sydney paper to read. I saw something was wrong, and gave it to Jones, who read out the startling and unfortunate news that the brig "Jane" had been wrecked, on a coral reef, somewhere in Torres' Straits, during a heavy gale of wind. She had gone to pieces, and the captain and fifteen of the crew were drowned. This was a terrible blow. Nearly all I had to depend on gone at one stroke of misfortune. I could not rest, and at once set off for Sydney in the hope of finding the report untrue. I left my wife behind, and the lad Peter to keep her company, and arrived in Sydney in a few days, when I had my worst fears confirmed.
The news was only too true. I went out to the Glebe to see Mrs. Baird, and found the poor woman nearly out of her mind, and I almost forgot my own sorrows in thinking of hers. I had lost my money, but she had lost her husband, and was left, I was sorry to find, but poorly provided for, and she had six mouths besides her own to fill. Just at this time two whaling vessels arrived
I stayed on in Sydney for a few weeks, idling about. At last I thought it was no use indulging in unavailing regret. My money was gone beyond recall, everything was going out and nothing coming in, and it was time for me to try and climb the ladder once more. I was offered a vessel to go on a whaling voyage, but my taste for this pursuit was gone, and I proceeded back to Melbourne, where I rented a shop and started in the butchering business. The shop was in King Street, but, being a new-comer and almost unknown, I had a hard battle to fight, and after ten months' hard work, was unsuccessful and had to give in, as it was a losing game.
I thought, as I was apparently unfit for the town, I might succeed better in the country, and, taking my wife and boys, I went up to Ballarat, which was then a very busy place. Gold was then being got in large quantities, and it was a grand field for employment. Money was plentiful, judging from the number of hotels and places of amusement, which were crowded nightly.
I landed there with just £300, the only remaining portion of my accumulations. I placed £250 in the bank, and looked round for employment. I one day fell in with an acquaintance of my early days of Sydney, of the name of Sweeney, who was now a cattle-dealer and slaughterman, and was rapidly making a fortune at the business. He offered me a job to go up country and buy him a mob of cattle for the Ballarat market. I gladly accepted his offer, made my preparations, and left on my journey. I was away three months, and succeeded in buying cattle very cheap at the different stations, and got them safely to market.
The trip paid Sweeney well, and he was proportionately pleased, and paid me well for my efforts. On my return I heard of a chance to go into business at a place called Brown's Diggings,, about eighteen miles off. I at once got a horse and proceeded there, but at the time I did not like the look of the place, and returned to Ballarat and joined a man who was just starting in a retail butchering trade. We pushed the trade vigorously, and introduced a novelty to the pleasure-seekers of Ballarat,
As before stated, the numerous hotels and places of amusement were crowded every night. I bought a lot of baskets, and hired twelve decent lads to carry them at night and hawk "saveloys" round those places. A slice of bread was given with the "bag of mystery," as some rowdies called the luscious saveloy, for which one shilling was obtained without a murmur, and I need not assure my readers it was a very profitable speculation. We kept on at this business for some time, and, by dint of hard work and energetic pushing, soon put together a tidy sum of money, in fact, things were once more looking up.
One morning an acquaintance came into our shop and exhibited a fine lot of quartz specimens which he had obtained from a reef at Brown's diggings. He wanted me to go out with him and look at it with a view to working it. I sent my mate with him, who shortly returned, very bad indeed with the quartz fever. He said the stone seemed to contain about one-half gold. We must sell out of the business and go reefing. I was very loth to give up the trade, which was now well established, and trust once more to the fickle goddess, but my mate's glowing description and picture of a fortune to be made in two years upset my prudent resolves, and we sold our business and proceeded to our new Eldorado.
I was well satisfied with the appearance of the reef, and we were not long in forming a company of ten to work the lode. Machinery was at once ordered, and I built a house close to the claim, and brought over my wife and family from Ballarat. During the erection of the crushing-battery we were employed in getting stone out, and raised about 100 tons, which we estimated, moderately enough, would yield six ounces of gold per ton. When our battery was ready to commence, we invited a lot of the neighbouring diggers and others, and held the orthodox ceremony of christening the machinery. Plenty of libations were poured out to our future success, and matters were started auspiciously.
This trial-crushing yielded 1500ozs. of gold, and caused tremendous excitement. It so far exceeded our anticipations that I began to think my old luck had not deserted me after all. I was offered £4000 for my tenth share, and declined to sell. I stuck to the company for 13 months, and cleared £4800 to my share, and then sold out for a good price; and it was fortunate
At this time there was a deep alluvial lead of gold being worked on Brown's, about 120 feet sinking, which was in very wet ground, necessitating the introduction of steam-power for pumping, etc. I, with two others, went into the "furnishing" business: that is, we supplied the parties in the claims on the west lead with engines and necessary gear, receiving shares in return for payment.
This run was called the "North Britain Lead," the majority of the miners being "North Countrymen," and the rest principally Cornishmen. One of the Cornishmen, named William Maddren, and his party had applied to the Government for a mining lease of an extended area, such things being then unknown on the gold diggings, although a law authorising such applications had been passed, but was unknown to the greater body of miners generally. The notices, though posted on the ground in accordance with the regulations, had been placed in some place where they could not be observed, doubtless with a purpose, as if they had been seen, objections would never have been raised, The ground applied for was marked off in ordinary claims, machinery erected, and, in one which we had "furnished," gold was being obtained in large quantities. Just as we thought matters were looking bright, the. Government stepped in on behalf of Maddren and party, and stopped us by informing us that we were trespassing on leasehold ground granted to the "Great Britain" party, This was in 1858, when Mr. John O'Shannassy was at the head of the Government. During his reign many "shady" jobs of the kind were manipulated. However, we refused to surrender our ground, especially after the enormous outlay we had been at to develop it. So the Government placed an injunction on all our claims to desist from working until the matter was adjusted.
At the time there were over two thousand miners in the place. A very large public meeting was held to protest against the injustice of throwing all the rich ground into the hands of monopolists by the system of leasing large areas. In later years, as the easily worked ground gave out, the system has worked
I was deputed to go to Ballarat and engage a lawyer, and I did so, and retained a Mr. McDermott. The lease party engaged a barrister named French. To distinguish the two parties, we were named the "anti-lease party." I was one of a deputation sent to Melbourne to confer with the Government on the matter, but we got very poor encouragement in that quarter. We were informed that the lease had been legally granted to the "Great Britain" party, and we would have to give up possession. We left, and determined in our hearts to give it up only to superior force.
While in Melbourne on that trip, a terrible affair happened. The convicts at the hulks at Williamstown, in Hobson's Bay, broke out and murdered Mr. John Price, the Inspector-General of the convict prison. The murder was committed under exceptionally brutal circumstances, and five of the convicts were executed for the commission of the deed. I have already alluded to Mr. Price in the story of my early career. I had met many men while travelling through the colonies, who had been at some period under Price's iron rule. They all spoke of him as a tyrannical taskmaster, and predicted such a fate as subsequently befell him, the wish of many of these instances being father to the thought. This feeling at length culminated in a horrible death, he being literally stamped out of existence by the ironshod heels of the ruthless murderers, and I think that in the annals of crime of all time the manner of it has no parallel.
To return to the reef question, on arriving back on the diggings, we resumed work in our claims, and refused to obey the Government in the matter of giving up our means of livelihood. We worked on—until finally stopped—for about five months, and obtained a very large quantity of gold. In consequence of certain rumours, I was despatched one day into Ballarat to see Mr. McDermott, our legal adviser, to get his instructions how to proceed. I found the town in a ferment; 250 troopers had arrived from Melbourne to enforce the majesty of the law, and put us out of our claims at Brown's. This force was just starting off when I arrived in Ballarat. I immediately sought out the
As it was imperative I should reach Brown's before the body of police, I went to James Bull, at Earth's stables, and hired a thoroughbred in place of my hack. I made a contract with him, that if I injured the horse, during my flying ride, I was to pay Mm 100 guineas, the price he valued the animal at. I set off at a racing pace, and overtook the troopers at the Halfway House, where they were getting some refreshment. As I flew past, Captain Sheridan, who was in charge, called out to me to stop. I took some little time to pull up, and he and Captain Elliott rode up. Sheridan asked me if my name was Barry, and if I was not one of the "Anti-lease" party, and, in fact, the ringleader. I told him he was quite correctly informed in all these particulars; that I was largely interested in the ground in dispute, and others and myself had nearly our last shilling laid out in the claims; and said, was it likely we were going to give it up without a bitter struggle?
He replied that he wished to caution me, and to request me to repeat the caution to others to use no violence, or there would assuredly be bloodshed. He had his instructions to enforce the law, and turn us out, and he would do so. I said—"Be that as it may, we will not give up our rights unless compelled to do so by main force." Sheridan answered, "Well, I have cautioned you, and upon your heads be it."
With this I rode off at my original pace, and never drew rein until I arrived at the Black Swan Hotel, in the main street of Brown's Diggings, when immediately upon my dismounting, the poor mare fell dead as a stone. The pace had been too fast for her, and a vision of £100 to pay loomed up. However, there was no time to waste in regret. There were about 1000 men waiting in the street, all armed, for it seemed they had already got an inkling of what to expect, and they anxiously enquired what advice the lawyer had sent. I gave them the message, and reported my conversation with Sheridan, telling them that the police would probably arrive before six o'clock.
On this intelligence being given, five delegates were despatched to Italian Gully, a neighbouring diggings, to "rouse up" the diggers there. Very little, in those days, was needed to stir up the mining population to resist oppressive measures, and the Government had had a lasting lesson in this matter at the riots at Ballarat in the early days.
The troopers, on arrival, were picketed at the police camp, where the crowd followed them, but made no demonstration. In the morning there were assembled about 1500 well-armed diggers, and we confronted the police. Captain Sheridan produced a document, and read it to the crowd, detailing his instructions which were to evict us from our claims, and
After I had concluded my statement, Captain Sheridan said, "Barry, I recognise in you the ringleader of these misguided men. I ask you, once for all, will you give up possession to the legal owners quietly or not?" I replied that we considered the proceedings of the Government in the matter to be illegal and unjust, and we would not surrender one inch of the ground unless compelled to do so by force, and in this we were advised by our lawyer. At this reply, Captain Elliott, who was with the main body of police came forward and drew his sword, saying, "Barry, we arrest you."
I motioned him back, and told him to sheathe his weapon, or there would be instant bloodshed. Sheridan spoke of proclaiming "martial law," but the crowd stood firm, and only waited for the signal from me to fire, and few of the troopers would have been left to tell the tale. After some further parley, a kind of armistice was patched up, and Sheridan called upon me to disperse the crowd who quietly broke up to meet again in the morning.
I was not sorry when the movement took place, as I had been on the "stump" for over an hour, and if shots had been exchanged I should have stood a poor chance, being between the two fires. A large public meeting was held that night, and we at last agreed to allow ourselves to be carried off from the claims under protest, but not to stop working nevertheless.
In the morning the scene of the previous day was repeated. There was the imposing array of police drawn up, and the crowd of earnest and determined diggers surrounding them. We stated our terms of surrender of our rights, which were accepted, and Maddren and party and Captain Sheridan went quietly to the claims and took possession A note was made of our protest, no one being allowed on the claims but those gentlemen.
This quiet method of settling the business proved the best in the long run, for the claim-holders all got compensation for what was evidently a Government blunder, indeed, some went so far as to say that it was a premeditated swindle, in which some of the members of Government were concerned; and with such a handsome prize in view as a large patch of extraordinarily rich alluvial ground to be had for a little straining of the law, it is possible that such was the case.
However, it was a fortunate thing the matter was got over without a serious disturbance. Had compensation not been faithfully promised and given, a second addition of the Ballarat riots would have occurred. I believe that had we been allowed to work the ground, we should each have realised about £30,000. As it was, I lost about £1000, and considered myself rather lucky I was not once more run aground.
ChapterXVII.
More horse-dealing—I determine upon a visit to New Zealand—A good spec, in horses—Dunedin in the early days—I go into the fish business and am beautifully hoaxed—Hapuka—Adventures at Gabriel's—I swim the Clutha—Butchering and gold prospecting—Rough times on the Shotover—I make a start at Cromwell—Butchering competition—My competitors freeze me out for a time—An unexpected? stroke of good luck—I again start business, and break up a monopoly—I am presented with a gold watch and chain—A grand jollification.
When all the bother was over, I started again in the butchering business, and put up a good slaughter-yard at a place called Smythe's Creek, and did a very good business. The "anti-lease" arrangement had given me considerable celebrity, which I was not slow in turning to account.
I have said nothing about the Californian Indian lad. At this time he was in the service of a friend of mine, in the hay and corn trade, in Ballarat. One day when I was there the poor boy came to me, complaining of pains in his head. I took him to a doctor, who said he had a severe attack of fever. On learning this, I drove him home with me to get proper nursing, but it was of no avail, he gradually grew worse, and in a few weeks breathed his last. Mrs. Barry and myself grieved greatly at the poor fellow's death—he had been so uniformly grateful and affectionate to us. We buried him far away from the hunting-grounds of his forefathers, and he was probably the only specimen of the American Indian ever laid in Australian soil.
A good many rival butchers now started in business on Brown's, and the oppositon became very warm. Having a good sum in ready cash, I was enabled to buy cheap, and I commenced what is
Being once more adrift from business, and seeing nothing in the locality suitable to make a fresh start in, I decided, as my health was not particularly good, to go down to Melbourne and have a spell, of which I stood much in need. The life of excitement I had been leading for many months began to tell. I had now three of a family, and the wife and youngsters and I shifted our quarters to Melbourne. I took a ready-furnished house in Collingwood, where we lived for twelve months, and enjoyed fully all the pleasures that Melbourne then afforded.
I one day fell in with a man named James Cotton, a horse-breaker and dealer in a large way of business. I went into business with him, followed the markets, bought up raw colts, broke them in and sold them.
I found this a profitable business, and in a few months cleared a good round sum of money by it. In the horse-market one day, when I was engaged disposing of some colts, I received a blow on the hat, and on turning round found myself face to face with my old chum, Tom Jones, the cattle-dealer. We retired to a convenient pub. for a chat. Tom was very sorry to learn of the Indian's death, and said the life he led with him, principally in the open air, suited him best, and I should have left the boy with him. However, it was too late now for regret.
At this time—early in 1861—news arrived of the gold discoveries in Otago, New Zealand, and I endeavoured to persuade Jones to join me in the speculation of taking down a cargo of horses to the new Eldorado. I knew from former experience that it was certain to pay well. Jones declined, but offered to let me have a mob cheap, which he had running on a station 81 miles up-country. They were light-draught animals, and from their description I knew they would suit; so the next day I left with him to see them. I found them to be the right article, and I
I attended the markets regularly, and at last got together 70 head of good upstanding animals, such as I concluded would suit the New Zealand taste, and then looked round for a vessel to charter for their conveyance to Otago. I succeeded in chartering two vessels, the "Mary" brig and the "Eliza Goddard." I purchased a lot of spring carts and sets of harness, and other things, shipped them with the horses, took my wife and family, and set sail for Dunedin, Otago, in the "Eliza Goddard," the brig "Mary" having sailed the day before.
This was in the year 1862, in the month of February. We had a pleasant passage, and arrived at Port Chalmers in eight days with our freight all safe. The Otago goldfields were in their prime at the time I landed, and their attractions proved too much for the crew of our vessel, who deserted to a man and went up-country to the diggings.
I took my family to Galbraith's Hotel, in Port Chalmers, where we remained for a few days until I got my horses, etc., to Dunedin, where I found an excellent market. Cattle of the description I had imported were then bringing good prices, and I realised well by the speculation.
Accommodation in Dunedin in those days was very scarce. I had to pay £4 per week rent for a small room, but at last succeeded in hiring a house in the North-East Valley, to which I took my family. I retained two of my best horses and one spring cart, and looked round for something to begin at. I was in a new country, and I was determined not to be particular what line I started in, provided it was likely to pay. One day I was on the wharf when two whaleboats arrived loaded with fish. I purchased the fish, put them into my cart, drove around the town, and retailed the lot. At night, on counting up, I found I had made a very good day's work indeed. "There's corn in Egypt yet," I thought, "I will follow up the trade." I made inquiries, and from advice given I purchased two vans and hired four men. Two of them were fishermen, and had seine-nets and all the necessary gear for making a good haul. I was informed by the same friend that the Waihola Lake, 23 miles from town, abounded in mullet, and all I had to do was to go there, fish, load my vans, drive on to the diggings, and make a rapid fortune.
I purchased a boat for running out our nets, and left on the expedition, probably the most foolish one I ever set out upon. One might have thought my verdancy would by this time have
Then, for the first time, it dawned upon me that I had been sold. However, I gave the lake another night's trial, and in the morning added three more eels to our stock, and tore our nets all to pieces, so I concluded Sawney was right—"Deil a mullet "was" in till't," and packed up and turned back homewards. We got as far as Dwyer's Perry, on the Taieri River, and camped. I then fell in with some boatmen who came up from the Taieri Heads, who, upon hearing of the failure of my fishing excursion, said they could get boatloads of the finny tribe in no time at the Heads if I would pay them a price for them. I concluded all was not yet lost, and arranged to prosecute the fish trade a little further. I paid off the men I had with me, and then returned to town.
Six boats left for the promised fish, and I remained with my horses and vans and amused myself duck-shooting on the lake, which at this time was crowded with waterfowl. After eight days waiting, I began to feel as if another "fish sell" was intended, but Dwyer at the hotel assured me that the men would keep their promise. There had been a heavy gale of wind meantime, which probably detained them. The day after, I was delighted to see four boats arrive, loaded to the gunwales with fish, some of them weighing 401bs. each. They were principally of the species called "hapuka," a very coarse specimen, but excellent where quantity was considered before quality. I loaded up my vans and hired a man to assist me in driving, and just then an old Ballarat acquaintance came along tramping to the en route to the Woolshed Diggings. We then pushed on to the Woolshed, six miles further, and camped. Next day we started for Waitahuna, and some of the corpulent "hapuka" began to smell rather high. We were compelled to halt at a creek and relieve them of their intestines, and on we went again. The fish trade evidently required to be done in a hurry. We got to Waitahuna, where there were about 800 miners, who wanted a change of food, and I retailed the remainder of the fish at the modest price, looking at their condition, of three shillings per pound, and was truly glad when the last hapuka disappeared.
I had had enough of the fish trade for some time, and drove on to Gabriel's Gully. These diggings were in their prime at this time; everyone appeared to be doing well, as also at the neighbouring gully, known as Wetherstone's. Harrison wanted me either to start in the old business or go gold digging, but I wanted to have a look round awhile, and, after settling up with him, we parted. I got an idea that money might be made readily on the diggings here at fellmongering: the butchers and others killing cattle and sheep were throwing aside their hides and skins for want of a market.
I sold one of my vans, and putting the two horses into the other, went straight back to Dunedin, where I saw plenty of chances to commence business. I had a good look round Dunedin, and I started buying hides and sheepskins, and made money, but not very fast, and I soon grew tired of the business, and one morning I said to my wife, "This work won't do, I shall go and see the new rush." I got in two horses, packed one with blankets, &c., and riding the other, I bade good-bye to my wife and family, whom I left comfortably situated, and started in search of the Dunstan rush.
I had little difficulty in steering my course to the new rush. The whole country was alive with people journeying thither-wards, and in two days I arrived on Dunstan Flat, where now stand the incorporated towns of Clyde and Alexandra.
The flat and all along the banks of the Clutha River were covered with canvas tents, and every one appeared to be getting
When I arrived I found someone had forestalled me, and that all the flour was bought up. I happened to learn, that a bullock team was close at hand with a load of flour, and at once rode out and met it, and purchased the lot at £3 per bag, and going four miles farther I met the other team, and purchased its load also, and despatched them both on to the Dunstan.
There were five tons of flour in the two loads, and I contracted to pay £60 per ton for carriage. I left Gabriel's again two days after the drays, and went back to the rush. I found matters still very brisk, and that bread had risen to 8s for a small loaf. When my flour arrived, a fortnight afterwards, the drays were "rushed," and I could have sold at almost any price, but I had already disposed of it to one man for £21 10s per bag, and felt well satisfied.
Four days after, ten drays arrived with flour and other goods, and the prices fell at once. The Bank of New South Wales started an agency at this time, and I deposited my cash there for safe keeping. The Dunstan now began to assume the appearance of a town. Hotels and stores went up in two long lines on either side of the street, and business made rapid strides.
There was a baker's shop next to the Bank, which I saw would make an excellent stand for a butcher's shop, and I made up my mind to have it. I had considerable difficulty with the occupier, but at last succeeded in buying him out. I at once fitted the place up for business. There were, at this time, only two other butchers who were supplied by two neighbouring squatters, Messrs: Low and Shuman.
When ready to commence, I went to these gentlemen for stock, but they refused to supply me, even for cash. They had arranged to supply the two places only, and they would not even permit cattle or sheep to be driven or killed on their run, and as most of the new goldfields were on their station, this was a poser. I had gone to very considerable expense for nothing, for a
I fancied I could swim a little, and one of the men with me, Bill Kelly by name, a Sydney native, could swim like a fish, so I thought it would go hard, but we would join this party who were getting gold by the pound weight. When we arrived at the spot opposite to the rich ground, we saw about fifty men sitting on the bank, looking at the lucky fellows on the other side, and wondering how they got there, and how they were to participate in their luck.
I at once went down to the river's edge, and began stripping. The crowd looking on in amazement, and predicting a speedy death. I paid no attention to their remarks, and tying my clothes in a bundle on my head, I called to Kelly to come on. He said if I arrived safely on the other side he would follow. I took the stream higher up than where I expected to land on the other shore, and plunged in, and reached terra firma almost at once. The current was running about ten miles an hour, and sheared me over at a tremendous rate. The stream here was 150 yards wide, and a fearful depth. It is possible I had the honour of being the first man who ever swam the Clutha, at "that date.
Kelly, on seeing me safely landed, at once attempted the passage, following my track, and was nearly across when he got into a whirl or eddy, and came near drowning. On seeing him struggling I ran up and plunged in and took hold of him, and one of the men who were working there reached out a long-handled shovel, which I grasped, and we were both pulled ashore. A few minutes more and one or both must have been drowned. As it was, Kelly lost all his clothes, and thirteen ounces of gold which were in his pocket. He solemnly vowed he would never again attempt to swim a New Zealand river, and I think he kept his oath.
I divided my wearing apparel with him to cover his nakedness, and we fraternised with the diggers, who were astonished at our foolhardiness. They had been on this beach a fortnight, and had obtained 181b. weight of gold, so they told us. There we were in the midst of treasure, but had no means of obtaining it, Kelly having lost our tin dish along with his clothes. However, one of our new acquaintances lent us a washing-dish, and we prospected round all day end got about an ounce of gold. During the night the river rose, which it does frequently and very rapidly, and overflowed the golden beaches, preventing us from obtaining any more gold for a time.
At this time men found, their way up the river on our side, and brought the news of an extensive rush up country, called Fox's, on the Arrow River, a tributary of the Kaurau. I decided to go back to the Dunstan, and my mate Kelly joined the five men working the river banks. Not knowing the road back on the west side of the river, and the newcomers telling me that it was very rough travelling, I thought it advisable to return by the same route I had come, so, bidding my comrades good-bye, I stripped, and, once more taking to my paddles, I re-crossed the river safely, and travelled down to the Dunstan.
I found the place very busy, hundreds of men passing through daily for the new rush. Although gold was being obtained then, and for a long time afterwards, on the river banks, new arrivals never thought of stopping, but pushed on for the new Eldorado. It is singular, but true, no matter how well a community of gold-diggers may be doing, the report of a new discovery immediately unsettles them, and down come the tents, and off they go. It was always so in my time, and, doubtless, if such a thing as a new rush were to occur to-morrow a general stampede would be the result, although I am sorry to see that generally the real old-fashioned, genial gold prospector and digger, like many other institutions, is gradually passing away, consequent, I suppose, on the want of excitement, no bona fide gold discoveries having been made of late years.
This new rush at Fox's was caused by the discovery of gold by two shepherds in the employ of a Mr. Reece, manager of a sheep-run in the Lake district, and was named after an old Californian acquaintance of mine, William Fox, who was prospecting in the neighbourhood, and came across the shepherds. He was a genuine prospector, and was very successful, I
Of course, I could not stay behind the crowd, and joined a Mr. Grindley in the stock trade, and we started with a mob of sheep for Fox's. We had to go up the Clutha River about eighteen miles before we could cross; we got over safely and proceeded, arriving at our destination after considerable difficulty, and found we were forestalled—Mr. Reece had stocked the market with cattle and sheep. We set to work and fixed up a yard with scrub, and sold a few of our sheep to the diggers, alive, but trade was slack, and Grindley decided to travel further on to Skipper's Creek, on the Shotover River, where a rush had set in, and a good many diggers had located themselves. We got there all right, and Grindley immediately commenced killing, and retailed his mutton at 1s. 9d. per 1b.
Shortly afterwards a misunderstanding arose between us, and I left him, to strike out a new line for myself. I bought an old white horse from one of the diggers, and one morning started down the Shotover, which runs through a terribly rough country. At one place I attempted to swim the horse over the river, and nearly came to grief. The current was too much for my poor old Rosinante, and down stream we went; he rolled over several times, and I grasped his tail in desperation. We came at last into a gorge, with smooth perpendicular rocks on either side. The poor old grey managed to gain a sort of temporary footing on a foam-lashed rock, where he was buffeted all to pieces, and, indeed, I was little better off, and began to think it was time "to send in my checks." However, I managed to keep in mid-stream, and at last cleared the awful gorge, and crawled ashore on a beach, where eight kindly Welshmen were working. I related my misadventures, and they supplied me with dry clothing and a night's lodging, of which good Samaritan-like help I stood in great need, being nearly exhausted. Next day one of the party was going into Fox's township and gave me a ride on his pack-horse. I could not have walked it, for I was bruised from head to foot and my body generally was of a black-and-blue tint. I was very ill for a fortnight afterwards, during which time I stopped at Fox's house. He had started a store and shanty—a sort of hybrid public-house, common enough in those days, although unlicensed and unlawful—where he appeared to be making money
I left for the Dunstan and arrived the same evening, and found that during my five months' absence the town had enlarged very considerably, and frontages on the main street had increased in value. Accordingly I determined to make another effort. This was in 1863.
I rode up to Mr. Robert Wilkins' station on the Wanaka Lake to see if I could purchase the goodwill of a butchering business he owned at the Kawarau Junction. He was away from home, in the neighbouring Province of Canterbury, but I succeeded in dealing with his overseer, Mr. Garter, and purchased the business. The Government had proclaimed the place a township, and gave it the name of Cromwell. It was rapidly going ahead, and things generally looking bright. I sold my property at the Dunstan, and removed my wife and family to Cromwell. I took up a good frontage under the goldfields' rules, put up a good shop, and the business was handed over by Mr. Carter, with whom I entered into an agreement that if any opposition was started he would reduce the prices to me, so that I would be enabled to undersell any and every competitor.
Having made a very fair start, matters went well with me. I made money very fast for twelve months, and fitted up a comfortable home for my family, and fancied that at last I was settled, but my dreams of quietness and comfort were soon disturbed. "Mine ancient enemy," George Harrison, and another man, arrived upon the scene with a large mob of cattle. Harrison had somehow made a lot of money, and thought he would have no difficulty in again supplanting me in the trade. He and his mate put up a shop, and commenced what is known as "cutting," that is, selling for a lower price than his neighbour. I thought that two could play at that game, and lowered my prices so that it would be impossible for them to live at the business. I have since found that this is but a foolish sort of business, and only created fun for the public, who reap all the benefit.
There were about 5000 diggers and others working in and around Cromwell at this time, and to the many stores in the outlying gullies in the diggings I despatched pack-horse loads of meat daily, besides keeping the carts constantly carrying the
Just at this time, as if to make amends, fickle fortune sent me news of some property which had fallen to me. It had been purchased in my name, for my future benefit, when I was almost a boy in the colonies. What appeared to be Crown-land grants in my favour had been found among the documents of a person named Frost, who had died suddenly at Adelaide, South Australia. Three gentlemen who were formerly acquainted with me had seen these papers, and wrote to me, asking me to send a power-of-attorney for them to act on my behalf. On receipt of this they would forward me a draft for £1000, and when they had established my title to the property, they would retain all the revenue which had accrued from it from the date of the grant in my favour until that time.
I thought the proposition rather a peculiar one at the time, but I was very ignorant as to the conduct of such matters; and as the prolonged opposition in trade had made heavy inroads in my cash balance, I determined to accept the £1000, and the terms offered. I sent the power-of-attorney as requested, and shortly after received the promised remittance of the £1000. In a future chapter I will give the sequel to this stroke of luck.
When I shut up my shop as already stated, my opponents concluded, I suppose, that they had put the finishing stroke to the game, and having it all their own way, raised the price of meat to 1s. 4d. per 1b. The public could not, of course, see the force of paying the extortion, and created a tremendous fuss, and many of them came to me, wanting to know the reason why I had ceased supplying them. Several diggers, thinking that I was run aground for want of capital, kindly offered me any amount I chose to name to continue the business, and drive the rivals out of the field, saying at the same time that they would never put up with such a barefaced imposition. I declined these kind offers, having not yet got to the end of my tether, so far as capital was concerned. I bided my time, knowing that the evil would soon become intolerable to the public. I coup de grace in a few days. Seeing that my shop still remained shut up, they were lulled into a false security, and at the end of a fortnight I noticed one day that their two shops were crammed with excellent meat, and the weather was excessively warm. I then laid my mine. I got my men together and killed five splendid bullocks and fifty sheep, which I had brought in, and hung up around the shop after all Cromwell had retired to rest.
I also got a large sign painted with the inscription, "The Right Man in the Right Place; No Monopoly," and hung, it up in front of my premises. The good people of the town and the diggers were joyfully astonished in the morning to see me once more "standing at the receipt of custom." Immediately, I had more trade than I could well accomplish. My opponents were floored. They could not sell a pound of meat, and, as it was very hot weather, it had all to be thrown in the river. After a few days' feeble struggle against me, I being well backed by public support, they had to give in and closed their shop.
Thus broke down a monopoly which had been a source of great loss and irritation to the district. I lost a deal of money, and I am sure that Harrison must have been severely crippled. The public, while the opposition lasted, were the only gainers; and now that it was at an end, and I had fixed a fair and moderate charge for this necessary of life, they very generously came forward, to mark their appreciation of my game struggle, and presented me with a handsome gold watch and chain, with a suitable inscription.
To commemorate the occasion, a bullock was roasted whole and dispensed, along with other creature comforts, to the large crowd who had assembled, and a very jolly time was spent, to be long remembered by Cromwell and its environs.
ChapterXVII.
Butchering and Farming—The opening of the Cromwell Bridge—Cromwell's first Race Meeting—My election as first Mayor of Cromwell—A Royal Spree—"A Beggar on Horseback"—I neglect my Business—An Historic Affair—How the Mayor cleared out the Council—Visit of Sir George Grey—An alarming Earthquake—"Johnny Jones"—Another Race Meeting—My appearance as an Amateur Jock—Serious Accident to my Son—I have a Providential Escape from Death—I tire of farming and sell my farm—"Thrice Mayor of Cromwell."
Having now, in the year 1864, got rid of my antagonists, I settled down steadily to the trade, and did an immense amount of business, having the district almost wholly to myself. The connection between Cromwell and the country lower down the River Clutha, was a pack-bridge erected over that river by Mr. Henry Hill. Wagons with stores and goods had to unload, and everything was packed across on horses, but the Provincial Government decided at this time to erect a substantial traffic bridge, which was accomplished in a few months, at a cost of over £30,000.
I have since heard competent judges say that a suitable one could have been erected for half the sum; but the Government of that day did not appear to study economy very match, and at this time large numbers of men were employed throughout the goldfields, constructing roads and tracks, so the up-country districts reaped the benefits of the lavish expenditure.
A number of people, with farming inclinations, began to settle down at this time on the foot-hills of the Mount Pisa range, at the back of the Cromwell Flat. Thinking this might be a good
I introduced a splendid breed of swine, which were much admired, and many of their descendants may now be found in the up-country districts in Otago. Now, at the end of 1864, the Cromwell bridge was finished, and being likely to prove an immense boom to the place, it was deemed fitting to commemorate the occasion, so a general holiday was held, and an immense crowd of people, about 4000, collected at Cromwell. To do my part as a townsman, I roasted a bullock whole, and dispensed it to the multitude, champagne and other less mild liquors flowed freely, speeches were made, and the day wound up uproariously, many of the crowd having "drunk" not wisely, but too well. This bullock-roasting, &c., extended my connection, and I found myself almost famous.
The new bridge enabled me to send my carts across, and I despatched meat and small goods as far as the Dunstan, and largely increased my trade. In this year, 1865, the first annual race meeting was instituted in Cromwell, and a very fair bit of sport was the result. The sporting fraternity showed up from all quarters, and many were the shifts they were put to, the stabling accommodation of the town being quite unequal to the requirements, in fact, it was execrable.
I added a little to my popularity on this occasion, by erecting a temporary grand stand for the public. After the race meeting, a jockey club was formed, which is, I believe, still in existence, and the races have ever since been run on correct principles, the Cromwell annual meeting being deservedly popular with the sporting community to this day.
Up country towns now began to feel the want of local government, and the Municipal Act was brought to bear. Cromwell, with the rest, must of course have a Mayor and Corporation, and I was persuaded to stand for the Municipal chair. I was nominated along with two merchants, residing in Cromwell, and the election came off in August. There was tremendous excitement over the matter, and money freely changed hands as to the result.
The poll was declared at four o'clock in the day, and I was returned as the first Mayor of Cromwell by an overwhelming majority. My supporters were uproarious over my success, and, procuring a chair, placed me in it, nolens rolens, and carried me shoulder-high round the town. To say that liquor flowed freely is a mild way of describing the saturnalia; the fact is, I believe the whole town, and a considerable crowd from the outlying diggings got most outrageously drunk.
The old story of "placing a beggar on horseback," &c., was well illustrated in my case. The honour was too much for me I tried, ineffectually of course, to do the grand seigneur, and came to grief. I neglected my business, and everything went to the dogs. I had got into a position for which I was unfitted, hence the result. However, I do not much regret it; I had a pleasant, if a busy time of it. I purchased a buggy, a pair of bays, and did a deal of driving about to the entire neglect of my own affairs. There was much municipal work to do, and as I was "a willing horse," the public, with their usual generosity in such cases, allowed me to do it. By-laws had to be passed, streets to be formed, and a variety of other matters to be attended to, and I have, at any rate, the satisfaction, if a barren one, of pointing to the now important town of Cromwell, and saying, "I helped to make it."
The following year, nothwithstanding my experience of these vanities, I allowed myself to be over-persuaded, and again taking office I found it no sinecure. The councillors were generally very disagreeable, quarrelled among themselves, making my position anything but a bed of roses. It led eventually to a scene which is, I suppose, unequalled in the history of the doings of any deliberative body in the colonies or elsewhere.
I had private business in Dunedin at this time, and having appointed a temporary chairman to act in my absence, I left for town. I had been in Dunedin a fortnight, when, on taking up a Cromwell paper, I found, in the report of the doings of the Council in my absence, they had passed a vote of censure upon me, the mayor.
It appears some of the councillors reported that I had received a letter from the superintendent of the province on municipal business, which I had suppressed. I certainly had received a letter from that gentleman, but it was entirely private. It was not at all necessary to show it to my colleagues—at least I
I finished the business which brought me to Dunedin, and, with the "pair of bays" aforesaid, I reached Cromwell in two days. On my arrival at the bridge I was met by some of the townspeople, who immediately adverted to the vote of censure, and regretted that such a course had been adopted by the Council. I told them that I had hurried back from town on receipt of the news, and they could safely leave the matter in my hands, as I fully intended to see to the bottom of it.
That evening I called a meeting of the Council in the Town Hall. Our deliberations being generally in public, the ratepayers mustered that night in great force, expecting some fun, and they were not disappointed. I called upon the town clerk to read the minutes of the three meetings which had been held in my absence. The book was then handed to me to sign, and to confirm the said minutes. I took it in my hand, and said, "Gentlemen, before signing my own condemnation, I should like to know what this vote of censure upon my conduct was passed for. I consider it a most cowardly proceeding. I am sorry that courtesy compels me to address you as gentlemen, for had there been one such among you, this action of the Council would never have been permitted. The vote was most uncalled for." On this a great sensation was visible, and some of the councillors commenced wrangling. I called them several times to order, and finding I could not restore peace, I ordered the public to leave the hall, and told the clerk to lock the door and hand me the key. He refused to do so, and I locked it myself, and put the key in my pocket.
The row among the councillors still continued, so I told the clerk to clear away the furniture and "we would have it out." At this stage two of the councillors fell to fisticuffs, one of them crying out if there was any fighting to be done he was about. Seeing that this was the man who had proposed the vote of censure, I stepped up, and at once knocked him down. Two of the other councillors leaped through the window. Finding matters had gone beyond my control, I opened the door, and the rest appeared glad to retreat.
Next day I was charged by my opponent before Mr. Stratford, the magistrate, with an assault, and fined; and this ended the farce. But, after all, considering the turbulent times, and the
Shortly after this, Sir George Grey, the Governor of New Zealand, who was making a tour of inspection of the Otago goldfields, arrived at Cromwell. An address was read to him by the Town Clerk, on behalf of the Mayor and Corporation, to which he replied in suitable terms. I then conducted Sir George and his suite, consisting of Captain Hope, Major Richardson, and several other gentlemen over the town, the bridge, and all places of any interest, and I also got some of the diggers to show samples of the gold obtained round about.
His Excellency expressed himself highly pleased with all he saw, and we had a long and interesting conversation upon early Colonial history, as I happened to have seen Sir George when he was Governor of South Australia many years before, when we were both much younger men. He seemed to like to meet an "old Colonial" like myself, and was kind enough to offer to serve me in any way which might lie in his power.
I thanked him, and told him I was satisfied with my present prospects, but if ever I should require his aid I would not hesitate to apply. In the evening we had a grand banquet, at which Sir George Grey and his party were entertained right royally. I had the honour of addressing the guests, and I rather fancy my style of oratory amused them somewhat. They all laughed heartily at the stories of my early Colonial life. The town was full of people from all quarters, and a very jolly time was spent by all.
The Governor was kind enough to ask me to drive down with him to Clyde, and introduce him to my brother Mayor of that town. I got my buggy ready and followed Sir George's coach. About half way to Clyde an immense crowd on foot and horseback, accompanied by the Mayor of Clyde, met us. I got out and introduced the Mayor to the Governor, whereupon the crowd gave three cheers for Sir George Grey, and then three more for the Mayor of Cromwell, and we drove on to Clyde.
A grand ball was given there in honour of the distinguished guest, and a pleasant night was spent by all. The Governor and myself had a very long yarn about old times, and on parting with him he was pleased to say that in all his travels through the goldfields "he had never been entertained by any one as the Mayor of Cromwell entertained him."
I returned to Cromwell and settled clown steadily to business. I shortly required another mob of cattle, and having heard that there were some for sale at the Messrs. Boyes' station, on the Karawau River, near Lake Wakatipu, I went there, taking my son with me. We arrived all right at the homestead, which is very prettily situated at the embouchure of the Karawau River from Lake Wakatipu, at the foot of the Remarkable Mountains. This range can be seen from very many points in Otago, and is covered by perpetual snow.
I purchased the cattle I wanted, and got them yarded. Just when this was completed a terrific subterranean rumbling was heard, unlike anything I had ever heard before in my life. The cattle were very much frightened, and nearly stampeded from the yards. Presently another and louder rumbling noise occurred, and the earth heaved and rolled like the sea. We knew then that it was an earthquake, and being quite unused to these tremors I felt as if sea-sick, and the men around generally did not seem much better. In fact it must have frightened one of the brothers Boyes very much, for he shortly sold out his interest in the station and left for home.
The cattle in the yard, upon the occurrence of the second stroke, became so quiet that one could have gone amongst them without danger, although they were at first very wild. This earthquake was about the most severe one felt in Otago.
I imagine considerable damage was done in Queenstown and the neighbourhood by the cracking of houses and falling chimneys. Next morning I left with the cattle for Cromwell, and had not proceeded far when one of the bullocks turned and charged the horse I was riding. Before I could get out of the way he drove his horns into the poor beast, and killed him almost immediately. The mob then broke away, and made back to the station. We had to muster and yard them before I could make another start. The station-holder did not seem to like being troubled in this way very often, so found horses and men to send me and the cattle clear of his run. I afterwards got on well with the mob, and got them safely yarded in my yards at Cromwell, and was enabled to show a good supply of beef to my customers.
Having business in Dunedin, I put things in proper train again, appointed a chairman to represent me in the Council, and went to town. One day, when walking through the cutting in Princes
He said he had often heard of Barry, Mayor of Cromwell, and his doings in that capacity, but it had never occurred to him that it could be his old chum of years ago, and he again congratulated me. He asked me to go down to where his family resided on a large estate he had acquired there.
The carriage was brought round, a grand turn-out, and, doubtless, many people who saw us start wondered who I was. All the way down my old friend continued chatting about the old times, and tried hard to persuade me to bring my family down to settle near him. He would take care to make my path easy, but, as things were looking" pretty well with me in Cromwell, I declined his offers, which I have many times since regretted.
His offers were, I am sure, dictated by a pure spirit of friendship, and it would have entailed no disgrace or obligation to have accepted them. He introduced me to his sons, John and William. The latter I had nursed often when he was a boy in Sydney. "Johnny Jones" had a splendid property, called Bigood Station, but I am afraid the boys were of a different stamp from the sire; they were, in fact, rather wild, and my poor old friend told me that it was quite likely these sons would eventually break his heart. He has now gone to his last home, and whether his forebodings were prophetic we shall never know.
At this time an advertisement from the Government appeared in the papers, calling for applications from persons fitted to fill the position of Chief Inspector of Stock for Otago, and Mr. Jones insisted upon my applying for it. He got one of his clerks to draw up the application, signed his own name as a recommendation, sent it to the Otago Club and other places, and obtained sixty-three signatures of gentlemen interested in pastoral pursuits.
I forwarded the application, and shortly after found that a gentleman who had filled the position four years before had applied, and was again appointed, his previous experience, doubtless, causing his preferment over me. Mr. Jones was very much vexed at this, and again tried to persuade me to relinguish life at Cromwell and settle in Dunedin, but I was blind and could not see the propriety of the step. Wishing him good-bye, I returned home in a buggy which I had purchased. These vehicles were always saleable up-country, and I could generally make a small profit out of them when I had done with them. I was doing pretty well at this time, and was almost as well known as the proverbial town clock, rather too much so at times. I began to find if any poor devil was hard up, or some tradesman in difficulties, W. Jackson Barry seemed to be the man to apply to.
If I found them really in want, or that they were men of good principle, they never applied in vain; and it is now some consolation to reflect that I possibly did some little good in this way in the days of my prosperity.
A rush had now set in to the West Coast of New Zealand, and a great many diggers were daily leaving Otago. Those coming through Cromwell mostly had horses, but preferred to take the coach from this point, selling their horses. I went into the business, buying their animals almost at my own prices. I then started a livery stable, got a large connection, and made money by the venture for some time. Although things were looking well all over the district, and lots of gold was being obtained, the diggers would persist in rushing away to the New Eldorado; and this proved a considerable drawback to me, as many of them, on leaving, owed me pretty heavy bills for meat, which they neglected to pay when departing.
However, this used to be unavoidable, to a certain extent in a goldfield business of whatever nature, and provoked little comment. If the men were lucky they paid honourably, if not, why, it did not much matter; at least, that was my creed.
Settlement in the up-country districts now seemed to have fairly been determined on. Wives and families were pouring in, and many new institutions sprang up; amongst others, that of horse-racing becoming quite a furore. Every little town had its meeting. This year in Cromwell, we had £800 to be run for, which brought a number of good horses from other places to
I rode in one race called the "Hurry-scurry" myself, the distance being one mile and a half. There were 18 horses in the race, and I was mounted on a very fast mare called Nelly Gray. Before starting, a Mr. Taggart, who was riding an animal, called Limerick Lass, supposed to be the fastest one-mile horse of the clay, came up and said "Barry, this race will lie between your horse and mine; let us agree to divide the stakes," and I agreed.
The flag fell, and off we went, Taggart and I leading. We had not gone far when one of my stirrups gave way, and over I went; all the ruck immediately behind passed over me. A lot of horsemen rode up, making sure I was killed, but I jumped up, shook myself clear of the dust, and seizing a riderless black horse close at hand, I rode across the course and took up the straight running alongside Taggart, and nearly beat him on the post. When we pulled up he could not understand the joke. He said, "You started on a grey filly, and here you are on a black gelding." I said, "The race was a hurry-scurry, and I have hurried all the way, having had to use two horses to do the distance in."
Every one laughed at the feat of riding a mile-and-a-half race on two horses, and coming in second after all; but probably they did not see me cutting across the course to save time. Anyhow Taggart's forethought saved me the stakes, and I was thankful. At forty-eight years of age it was not a bad feat.
Cromwell was greatly crowded during the three days of the race meeting, and the insufficient accommodation at the hotels produced many laughable incidents. People had to sleep anywhere—billiard-tables were utilised on top and underneath, and hundreds slept on doorsteps. A few days after, this was repeated at Cldye. My son William, who rode a race at the meeting for a gentleman named Glassford, met with a terrible accident, which nearly sent me out of my mind. Coming up the straight the horse fell and rolled over him, injuring his spine. We all thought he was killed. He was at once removed to the local hospital and attended to. He was two years under medical treatment, and is now deformed for life.
This accident caused me to lose a large sum of money, and decided me to give up racing for some time. My men were down at the Clyde races, having driven down in one of my spring carts. They had got on the spree, and I thought it would be a safer plan to drive it home myself. All my friends tried to dissuade me from starting so late in the evening, but I was obstinate and would go. An old friend of the name of Whetter, a Cromwell resident, was with me. We had two horses in the cart, one running in what is called an "outrigger," and a large board or sort of tray nearly covered the top of the cart.
The road from Clyde to Cromwell, thirteen miles, follows the River Clutha all the way. It is at no time very safe, but is particularly dangerous on a dark night, such as this was. Driving round a turn where the road wound round a gully we were capsized. Whetter was thrown down the gully about 100 feet, and landed under a big rock, the large board following him and covering up his head. I went with the vehicle, and was found under it. The horse that was in the outrigger got loose, and the shafts were broken off. A man happened, fortunately, to be passing at the moment of the accident, and ran to a house half a mile away for assistance, which soon arrived, and we were extricated from our perilous position. Whetter was nearly killed, and I was very much bruised and cut about the head. We were carried to the house already mentioned, and the doctors were sent for. The report that Barry and Whetter were killed reached Cromwell, and a lot of people came down, with my wife and. Whetter's family, to view the remains. My wife was in a terrible state, but, thank God, it was not so bad as death. We were removed to Cromwell, where we were laid up for some time, but got all right at last.
It is miraculous how we escaped being killed. I have often looked at the place since, while passing in daylight, with a shudder, and felt thankful to Providence that it was no worse. Shortly afterwards, my son not getting on very well, I took him down to the Dunedin hospital for better attendance. It seemed to me at this time as if I had fallen in with one of my periodical streaks of ill-luck. While in Dunedin this time, a Mr. Haggitt, a solicitor, spoke to me one day in the street, and told me to call at his office, as he had something of importance to tell me. After lunch I went to see him. He told me that a friend of
I thanked him, and asked him to communicate with me if anything further cropped up, which he promised to do. I learned that my boy was very bad, and went and stopped that night in the hospital with him. Next day he was much better, and the doctors assuring me that he was now out of danger and in good hands, I thought I would take a look at home.
I took the coach and arrived at Cromwell, where further disaster awaited me. There had been a very heavy rain-storm, and some water-races on the hillside, at the back of my farm, used for carrying water for mining purposes, had broken away, torn up and carried off the soil with five acres of potatoes, destroyed all the fences, and drowned a lot of my pigs.
I was so cut up over this matter, that I determined to get rid of the property. I was heartily sick of farming. It had cost me over £2000, and I sold out to one Mr. Towan for £300, farm, buildings, and all. He is there yet, and has done well, but he understands the business and I did not.
About this time, the election for Mayor was again about to come round, and I was asked to stand once more. As I had already found the title of Mayor but an empty honour; and, in fact, personally a dead loss to me, I declined, but was persuaded to sign the nomination paper, little thinking I should be elected, as I never took the slightest interest in the election, which was a contested one.
I was away from home on the polling day, and on my return I found myself, by a large majority, in Whittington's position, "Thrice Lord Mayor," not of London but of Cromwell. There was no help for it. I had "greatness thrust upon me," and I accepted the position.
ChapterXVIII.
I discover a Quartz Reef on the Carrick Range—I meet Mr. R. Loughnan—The Aurora Reef—My Speculation in a Battery Plant—Battery Christenings—All is not gold that glitters—I start Business in the Auctioneering Line—I visit Queenstown and Kingston—Captain Howell—A Father of Twenty Children—The Captain and I enjoy ourselves—"Two lovely black eyes" —Startling News from New South Wales—I decide upon a Trip to Sydney—A grand send-off—My Trip to Australia—Extravagances on board—I am temporarily hard-up, but get advances—A Kangaroo Hunt.
In this year, 1867, my friend Wilkin, with whom I had been dealing in stock for years, sold one-half of his run to Mr. Loughnan, who fixed his homestead nine miles from Cromwell. I thereupon commenced dealing with him for sheep and cattle, finding the distance very much more convenient for my business and the market.
One day I was away at a place called the Nevis, a famous goldfield, purchasing cattle, and in returning over the Carrick Range I found a quartz reef, from which I brought in some golden specimens. I showed them to some of my friends, not telling them whence I had obtained them. A few days after I went out to the station, and showed them to Mr. Robert Loughnan, who at once agreed to make one of a party to prospect the reef. I turned my horse out on the run, and he drove me into town in his buggy. We soon made up a party of our friends, and we then drove down to Clyde and applied for a prospecting area, which was granted.
When the news became generally known, a great rush set in, and the Carrick Range was marked off in quartz claims for
I wanted Mr. R. Loughnan to sell out at the same time. I had an offer and disposed of my interest, clear of all liabilities, which were pretty heavy at the time, for the sum of £200 cash.
Just at this time important quartz discoveries had been made at a place called Bendigo Gully, sixteen miles from Cromwell on the Dunstan range, and there was very great excitement over one claim, called the "Aurora," which, from specimens shown, appeared to be nearly all gold. I went up and tried hard to get an interest, but no one was inclined to part with any. Hearing that the company were about to erect a crushing battery, and intended despatching one of the shareholders to the Arrow to purchase one there, called the "Criterion," which was idle, I thought I saw my way clear to getting a share in the "Aurora."
I rode off at once to the Arrow. I saw the plant, and learned that Mr. W. Robertson, of Queenstown, had the disposal of it. I at once rode to his place, and was not long in concluding a bargain. He considered it bad property at the time. I gave him a cheque for £50 on account, and went on my way rejoicing. On my way down I met an old friend, Mr. John Perriam, a merchant and settler, residing near Cromwell, and a shareholder in the famous Aurora. During a short conversation, he told me that he was on his way to purchase the Criterion plant and battery, at the Arrow. I mentioned that he would have his journey for nothing, as I had bought it the day before from Mr. Robertson.
He would not believe my statement, and asked what on earth I wanted a battery for. I said I had purchased it as a speculation—such things were handy in the house. He laughed, and rode on, but I knew full well the laugh would shortly be on my side. When I arrived at Cromwell, the excitement was greater than ever; people were quartz mad, the Aurora Company were in a hurry to realise, and had determined to erect a battery at once.
Some of my friends, to whom I had mentioned the matter, said my speculation at the Arrow would yet turn up trumps. Next day Mr. Perriam returned, considerably chafed at my smartness, and offered to buy the plant. I asked him what he would take for half his interest in the Aurora. He said £1500. I then offered him the battery for one half his share, and £200 in cash. He closed with the offer, paid down £150, and sent off men, wagons and horses to take down and transport the plant of the Aurora Mine without delay.
This piece of work cost, I believe, about £560. Shortly afterwards, the battery was erected, and of course there must, as usual in such cases, be a christening and pouring out of champagne, and the like. The day arrived, the battery was gaily decorated, and abundance of good things provided for the visitors, of whom there were some hundred or two. I, as Mayor of Cromwell, was called upon for an address. I gave it amid cheering. Mrs. Perriam, with a few appropriate words, dashed the bottle of champagne against the huge wheel, which at once revolved, set the stampers in motion, the golden ore was thrown in, and the Aurora battery was an accomplished fact. Toasts, speeches, eating and drinking followed, winding up with a ball in the evening.
These are very pleasant breaks in the monotony of a goldfield; but, alas, how often do the bright hopes, engendered by such displays meet with bitter disappointment! In fact, it is almost the rule, and, as the sequel will prove, this was no exception. "It is not all gold that glitters."
At this time, Mr. Robert Wilkin sold the remainder of his run to Mr. Henry Campbell. Chambers Brothers purchased the cattle on the upper portion of the run, and I bought those on the lower. This was a bad speculation for me, over which I lost heavily. Pleuro Pneumonia broke out among the herds, and nearly all died. Chambers Brothers, in removing their mob to their own station, had to pass through other runs, and communicated the disease to the cattle on them. Actions for damages followed, and those gentlemen were nearly ruined. My ill-luck was cropping out again with a vengeance.
The Aurora, in the meantime, had a washing-up, with a yield of barely three ounces
While in Dunedin, I found everyone in a state of excitement over the Bendigo reefs. The famous Caledonian, in the North Island, was then pouring out its extraordinary treasures, and men's minds were distracted by visions of wealth to be gained from investment in quartz mines. I had neglected to get a transfer before I left, from Mr. Perriam, or I might have sold my Aurora shares at an extravagant price. On my return to Cromwell the re-action had set in, the Aurora was down in the market and in men's estimation, and to make matters worse, my cash balance had dwindled to very small dimensions, and I found myself in debt. But I very soon cut the knot. I sold my property where my butcher's shop stood, to Mr. Bendix Hallenstein, merchant, for £700, and cleared off my liabilities, which were not very much.
I was now out of business for a few months, my term of office as Mayor was up, and I felt thoroughly miserable at being out of harness. At last a thought struck me, I would try the auctioneering business. I had done well at it years before in California, why not here? I took out a license—the fee was £50 per annum—and got a great many sales to conduct. Altogether, during 1868, the business paid very well.
My old customers were always wondering why I gave up the meat trade, so I erected a shop on an allotment I had in Cromwell, called it the "Smithfield Butchery," and combined the old trade with the auctioneering. My custom came back rapidly, and money began once more to flow into my coffers.
I went again to Dunedin, where I fell in with a Mr. Bathgate, lawyer, to whom I disposed of my interest in the Aurora for £250. It was not a very good venture for that gentleman, as I do not think the company ever paid a dividend, and is now utterly broken up. The mine is still there, and probably some day it may retrieve its character, as I do not think it ever got a thoroughly fair trial.
The newspapers continually reiterate that "quartz-reefing is only in its infancy," and this is my belief also.
When I returned to Cromwell, I found a letter waiting calling me to Kingston on business, and to call on Captain Howell at Fairlight station. I left for Queenstown, and put up for the night at Eichardt's Hotel. Next day I took my passage in the steamboat for Kingston, at the foot of Lake Wakatipu, about 23 miles from Queenstown. The lake here presents some grand
I reached Kingston in due course, and met a gentleman —a Mr. Pearce—from a small town known as Gore, to whom I sold my shop and fixtures generally, for £500, and agreed, verbally, not to butcher any more in Cromwell.
Kingston was not much of a place at the time. Like Mark Tapley's "Eden," it would be the better if built; but ere long it will doubtless be a flourishing place enough, for it is the projected terminus of the Southern railways from the seaboard.
I hired a horse here, and rode seven miles to Fairlight Station, belonging to a very old friend, Captain Howell, with whom I had been whaling and sharing many vicissitudes in my early days. The captain was an old New Zealand settler, and had married a Maori woman, by whom he had, I think, twenty children, the girls being mostly very handsome, as indeed the female half-castes of New Zealand generally are.
I found Captain Howell just mouuting his horse to ride to Kingston, en route for Queenstown, his family being all away from home. I returned to Kingston with him, and stopped all night. We had little opportunity for talking over old times and comparing notes, for the house we stopped at was crowded with sheep-shearers, and it is well known they are mostly pretty rowdy company. Captain Howell would persist in plying them with grog. At last they got quite uproarious, and commenced fighting among themselves. The captain and I interfered to make peace, and were each rewarded by a good thrashing. I got a pair of black eyes. So much for the amenities of shearers. I felt quite ashamed in the morning to travel in the steamer, but Captain Howell persuaded me to go on with him, and we arrived at Queenstown. I stopped with him there for a fortnight, I am sorry to say, celebrating our ancient friendship by drinking and spreeing, until I tired of the miserable fun and left for Cromwell, where I arrived much the worse for my trip, and out of pocket.
However, the auctioneering and cattle-dealing were paying well, and I had too much good sense to cry oyer spilt milk. When I arrived at Cromwell, I met Mr. Henry Campbell of the Wanaka Station. He had been waiting for me to conduct a sale of horses for him. I told him horses were now selling for very little. However, he wanted to be rid of them; so, on the day appointed, I cleared them off, and got better prices than I anticipated.
Whilst engaged at this sale, one of my sons handed me a letter which he had got from the post office. I put it in my pocket. After the sale was over, I had forgotten all about it, when my son said, "Father, have you looked at your letter? It bears the Sydney postmark." I then took it out of my pocket, and found it contained instructions to proceed to Sydney for the purpose of being identified as claimant to the property in New South Wales, to which I have alluded in the earlier pages of this book. This put me in great heart. I showed the letter to Mr. Campbell and other friends, and was heartily congratulated on my prospects of being comfortably provided for in my old age, which was now coming on apace.
I settled
My old friend, John Perriam, of Lowburn, determined to give a grand spree on the eve of my departure. He roasted a bullock whole in one of his clover paddocks, which was laid out with tables and all the necessaries for a great feast for 400 persons. There was nearly that number there, and it was a feast long to be remembered.
I drove out with my wife and family, and was received by the assemblage with cheers, champagne was poured out like water, and I was placed upon one of the tables to address my friends—a task I felt unable to perform adequately, for my heart was full, and I only managed to thank them for their wishes. The banqueting, dancing, and sports were kept up for two days, and I think everyone must have been fully satisfied.
I often look back to that time and, think of my friend John Perriam, whose friendship I value highly, and have ever since
It was now time for me to be off to New South Wales. Having sold all my property in Cromwell, except one large cottage, I installed my family in it, and left them a sufficiency of money for their wants, I went to the bank and drew out £50. I was determined to have my expenses paid by some of those gentlemen who were so much interested in my prosperty in New South Wales, and, therefore, took away only a small sum. I went to Dunedin, taking my son with me. The property I was about to claim was situated in the town of Bathurst, in New South Wales, and had been purchased for me in 1833, while I was serving my apprenticeship to the butchering business in Sydney.
I knew very little of the particulars, which was unfortunate for me, as will be seen further on. After I arrived in Dunedin, I was presented with a writ from a fellow-townsman of Cromwell for £12. As I knew the amount owing could not possibly exceed £2, and the prosecution only arose from spite, I determined to go to the bottom of this matter. I took the coach next morning and returned to Cromwell, and had the case investigated before the Magistrate, when the amount was reduced to thirty shillings by contra account, and my opponent received the hisses of the community for his unneighbourly and spiteful conduct. This episode still further reduced my purse, and I was determined not to draw any more money out of the bank, and again went down to Dunedin.
I had to wait ten clays in town before the s.s. "Omeo" would be ready for sea, as she was undergoing an overhaul in the dock at Port Chalmers. I occasionally went down to see the vessel, and got well acquainted with Captain Colville, the skipper. His vessel, the "Omeo," was the first which had been docked the dock having only just been completed. She was hauled out, and I took the steamer, with my luggage, from Dunedin. Mr. James Macandrew, the Superintendent of the Province,
It had leaked out by this time what my business in Sydney was, and many people who had looked down on W. Jackson Barry were now very willing to shake hands, &c. When I returned, with my business unaccomplished and apparently a failure, the cold shoulder, as I thought, was exhibited, but such is the way of the world, and I was always sufficiently philosophical not to permit such trifles to disturb my peace of mind. Amidst much hand-shaking and health-drinking, I left in the steamer, and we shortly afterwards cleared Taiaroa Heads. We went round the coast, called at Hokitika, Nelson, and Wellington. I went on shore at Nelson and stopped all night. I fell in with an old friend, named Warren, who took me round the town, and to a friend of his who was going to Melbourne in the "Omeo," and introduced me. We were great friends during the voyage.
Saloon-travelling in steamers is expensive, and with my limited purse I ought to have known better than to indulge in extravagance; but I never had been schooled to reckon cost, and when poor never liked to appear so. Doing as the other passengers did, made heavy inroads on my slender stock of money, but what mattered, thought I, am I not going to jump right into wealth? And so I took matters coolly, and went on, never heeding.
One day on board I was jumping on the deck with the captain for a wager, when I slipped, and fell on the combings or something. I thought at the time my leg was broken, but, fortunately, it was only a very severely-sprained ankle. I was helped down to my cabin, and there remained to the end of the voyage. When we arrived at the wharf in Melbourne, I took out my purse, and found that out of the £50 I drew out of the bank when I left Cromwell I had but very little cash left to pay my expenses. I got a cabman to drive me to the Great Britain Hotel, in Flinders Street, at which I put up. I was five days in bed with my sprained ankle before I could venture downstairs, and I can assure my readers most of that time was spent in anxious cogitation as to what was to be done, and
My friend Durey and I took a cab and drove up to North Melbourne, to see an old friend with whom I had been stopping before I moved to New Zealand. We stopped that night, and returned to my lodgings in the morning. I found a letter from a gentleman who had called in my absence. I went to his address in Flinders Lane, and found that he was instructed to guide me in the matter of my claim to the Bathurst property. He told me I would require to wait one month in Melbourne, as there were two gentlemen who would arrive from Adelaide at that time, and accompany me to Sydney. I acquiesced in all he had to suggest. As I stated before, I was completely ignorant of all particulars, and deemed it best to say little, but take the gifts the gods provided. I explained my financial position to my adviser, and he immediately tendered me a cheque for £100 to meet current expenses.
I thanked him, told him I would keep him advised of my whereabouts during the month, and left his office, feeling very important, and in decidedly better spirits.
In a few days, my ankle being nearly well, I decided to go and view some of the old scenes of my previous history. I packed up a change of clothes, in a carpet bag, and took the train to Ballarat, where I arrived safely, and put up at Bath's Hotel. I soon picked out many of my old friends and acquaintances, who made a great fuss, driving me daily from place to place. On every hand I saw vast signs of improvement, and very much to admire. After all, Victoria is the place for true enjoyment.
I went out to Brown's diggings, the scene of my former exploits, and of the riot already detailed in these chapters. I
On the day appointed we drove to Buninyong, where the club was to meet. We found about twenty gentlemen, in scarlet ready, to whom Mr. Burress introduced me. He gave me a young Prince Alfred colt for a mount, which I felt at once to be up to his work. Kangaroo was to be our game, which were tolerably plentiful at that time in the Buninyong district. We had gone about three miles, when we came across a large ditch, with about ten feet of water in it, over which two of the huntsmen leaped their nags. It seemed so easy, that I put my horse at it. He reached the opposite side, but fell backwards, and we both went under water, but I managed to head him out, and reached dry land without having left the saddle.
The rest of the party laughed heartily at my mishap, and perhaps looked forward to many more such during the day from the "new chum," but I said "I am all right—we have a long day before us—plenty of time for improvement."
Presently a large kangaroo was started, and away we went in full cry over as rough a hunting country as any sportsman could desire—stiff fences and broken ground, heavily timbered. My colt behaved beautifully. The first fence was a very high dogleg one, and looked impossible to negotiate. The kangaroo and the clogs got over, and I followed, topping the timber nicely. Only one red-coat followed at this spot, and he came to grief.
After a short, quick run the dogs pulled the kangaroo down, and I had the honour of being first "in at the death." Presently two kangaroos got up, and the dogs split. So did the men. After a sharp burst of six miles or so, the kangaroos ran into a flock of sheep, as they will do when pressed, and the dogs were called off. In this run my horse had cleared every obstacle, and I can assure my readers some of the fences would stagger an English sportsman. The fence I cleared at the beginning of the hunt, was said to be the highest leap ever cleared in that part of the country.
At this time we mustered only ten huntsmen, the rest having fallen away or come to grief on the road. We turned our horses' heads homewards, and, after riding 18 miles, reached Buninyong, where a hearty supper awaited us, which, with plenty of champagne, was duly clone justice to.
I appeared to be the hero of the evening, and the general kindness and hospitality of these gentlemen made me feel quite at home. Songs and toasts followed one another. I was called upon, and sang a song called "Ax my eye," which called forth roars of laughter. I endeavoured to make a speech, and told them of my expectations and the business which brought me from New Zealand, and, if I succeeded, I should be happy to become a member of their hunt-club.
My health was drank, and, amid many good wishes for my welfare, the party broke up at an early hour next morning.
The doings of that day, and my plucky riding—being a stranger to the country hunted over, were commented on in the local papers, and copied into the Otago papers; so that, no doubt, my fellow-townsmen in Cromwell thought that their ex-mayor bad fallen upon good times.
My time was getting short, and I hinted that it was time to go down to Melbourne. A number of friends came
ChapterXIX.
I meet Tom Winton—The story of my property—Troubles with the Lawyers—I lose heart and return to Otago—I start hotel-keeping at Queenstown—Death of my wife— I sell out and go prospecting—Mineral discoveries—I decide upon a trip to the Old Country—A Government lecturer—Cromwell gives me a big send-off—I set sail in the s.s. "Wakatipu"—From Sydney to London in the s.s. "Aconcagua"—Reflections upon the progress of the Colonies—Arrival in London.
I got safely to Melbourne, and to my lodging, and found out the parties I was waiting for would not arrive from Adelaide for a fortnight. I knew very few people in Melbourne, but occasionally dropped across a New Zealand acquaintance, or some one just arrived from that colony, and passed the time knocking about, but found it pass very slowly.
I thought I would leave Melbourne and remove to Sandridge, and wait there, as, do what I would, I found Melbourne to be too expensive for my purse. I took my luggage, and went down into lodgings at Sandridge, one of the sea ports of Melbourne, and spent my time visiting the vessels in the bay, and occasionally running up to Melbourne in the train. It is astonishing what luck I have in meeting old acquaintances. A vessel arrived one day from the Mauritius. I went on board, and the first man I saw, in the person of the chief mate, was Thomas Winton, who was—as the reader may recollect—ship wrecked with me on the West Australian coast, in my young days. You may depend upon it we were pleased to meet again after so many years. He accompanied me to my lodgings, and what a long yarn we had to tell each
At this time my friends had arrived from Adelaide. I went to Melbourne, and had a satisfactory interview with them. My passage was taken in one of the steamers, and we had a quick, pleasant voyage. On entering Sydney harbour, thoughts of old times rushed over me, and I recalled to memory the many happy days I had spent there, from childhood to manhood: I felt as if I were once more at home. When we landed, I took a cab and drove to an hotel in Pitt Street called the "Six Lamps." It was also called "Tattersall's," and sending in my luggage, I secured a room at three guineas per week. It was a good place to stop at for one like me, being much frequented by sporting men, whose company I always affected. As it was late when I arrived, I did not leave the hotel that night, and on going to bed I was met by two very old colonists, who wanted to retain me to have a chat about my Bathurst property. I stopped with them about an hour, and then went to bed. I was five days at "Tattersall's" before my Adelaide friends communicated with me. I then saw them, and was informed that I must be ready to accompany them to Bathurst, by rail, on the following Monday.
I asked them what I was to do in the matter of expenses. They said that would be all right; they would deposit the requisite funds in the Bank to my credit, and I felt proportionately relieved in mind. After a prolonged conversation about the business in hand, we left the hotel and proceeded to the Bank, where they placed £700 to my account. A large sum might be necessary in prosecuting the search for, and retaining witnesses who could identify me as William Jackson Barry, since the year 1833.
I may here mention that the property to which I was about to lay claim had been purchased in the above year, in Bathurst, by a dear friend on my behalf, while I was in the East Indies. He died, and nothing was said about it for several years, in fact, it had almost passed out of my memory, until I met, as before described, in these pages, a gentleman named Cowper Turner, in California. He had been Attorney-General of New South Wales. He had come to San Francisco with horses, and I purchased some blood stock from him.
In the course of conversation, he recollected me in Sydney and mentioned the fact or this land having been purchased in my name, and said it should now be becoming valuable, as that part of the country was now settled, and the town being built and some day I should come into quite a fortune.
I listened, but did not pay much heed to his words. I was doing well at the time, and did not need it, and in the bustling years which followed I had well-nigh forgotten the affair, and being an ignorant man in such matters I cared little to prosecute a search for property I knew little or nothing about. Then came the letter to Cromwell, and I thought, at last the time has arrived for action; and, being now in Sydney, I looked forward with all anxiety to a successful issue of my mission.
After a deal of journeying from place to place, and three trips to Bathurst, and having been fully and satisfactorily proved to be the "real Simon Pure," I was told I might return to my family in New Zealand, and when again wanted I should be sent for.
I lost all hopes of getting my rights. There appeared to be such a mass of law surrounding the affair that I could not see through it. Some of the land grants in my name had been changed to others, and the land which had been apparently purchased for me had been re-sold by the Government under an act called Torrens' Act, passed many, many years before; so I concluded to let matters take what course they might, as I was completely worried out in trying to understand what it was all about.
I was getting very anxious about my family. I went down to Sydney and drew my balance of the £700 that was placed to my account, about £460, and then left for Otago. I thought that with the money I had in the bank in Cromwell, and the £2460 I was taking back from Sydney, I could make a start in any business.
I left Sydney in the "Rangatira," and had a splendid passage to Dunedin. I found my family all quite well when I got to Cromwell. I had a spell for a few days, and a good look round.
At this time a man named McLaren kept an hotel in Queenstown, called the Prince of Wales. He came and offered to lease it to me for three years. I had known this man years before in Victoria, where he was usually accounted "a queer
I saw my way clear and closed, and it was not a bad investment. I sold my house in Cromwell and brought my family to Queenstown, and commenced my new line of business. The first year I did well, and made a lot of money. One day my wife called me away from the dinner table and told me that she felt very strange and ill. She was afraid something was going to happen to her, and she really looked very ill. I, tried to cheer her up, and advised her to go to bed, which she did. We had been married twenty-two years, and I never knew her to complain before. She had been always remarkably strong and healthy.
In the morning two of my children came running to the door of my sleeping-room, and called out that "mother was dead." I rushed at once to her room, and found her lying on the floor in a fit. My eldest daughter was trying to revive her. I at once lifted my poor wife into bed, and sent for the two doctors living in Queenstown. They came immediately, and did what they could. She had eighteen fits that day, and afterwards gradually sank, and in ten days left us, I trust for a better world.
I cannot describe my feelings when I found she had gone. I believe I nearly went mad. We had lived happily together for over twenty years, and I could not realise the fact of losing her.
The funeral took place in a few days, and nearly all the town paid a tribute of respect by following my wife's remains to their last resting-place. About forty of my Cromwell friends drove up to the funeral. I got all possible sympathy under my bereavement, but it did me no good, and I was utterly unable to look after anything for two months.
I was left with six of a family, one child being very young. My business was failing, my family was completely broken up, and I had two small children to look after.
The boys were mostly able to look after themselves. I was in my fifty-fourth year, but strong and active, and I thought of selling out of the hotel and giving mining another trial. I sold out to a friend for a good price, and left for Cromwell, taking ray two young children with me. My friends in Cromwell wanted me to start again in the old line of business, but I had made up my mind to go prospecting again.
It was now the month of June, 1875. I left Cromwell for the Nevis to winter there with a very old friend. There was a quartz reef on the Carrick range, which intervenes between the diggings at the Nevis and Cromwell. I started with two horses, packing one and riding the other. It was fine weather when I left Cromwell, and in crossing the range I overhauled a man on horseback bound for the same place as myself. My friend I put in the winter with kept a store, but had very few goods in it. The goods I took over with me came in very useful, for the Carrick Range was snowed up for two months, and no one could cross it.
Before we reached the store a very heavy snow-storm came on, and three miners lost their lives in the snow crossing the range. When we got to the store two men came on horseback carrying a man that they had found in a gully fast asleep—an usual thing in the snow. If anyone sits down he will fall fast asleep. I thought it was all up with him, but we managed to bring him round. We rubbed his feet and body with snow, and poured hot rum down his throat, and after a time circulation recommenced, and he began to recover. He never had a narrower escape from being frozen to death, I'll warrant, in fact, it is wonderful how he lived through the bitter night, unsheltered in such a region.
The Nevis is well-known as the wildest and most unsheltered goldfield in New Zealand. There has been an immense quantity of gold obtained there for many years. The supplies are mostly packed over in the summer, as the ranges are impassable during the winter months. I stopped the winter at the store, and amused myself writing a book entitled, "Ups and Downs, or Fifty Years of Colonial Life." In the spring we started on a prospecting tour. We found the reef, and I took a quantity of stone from it to Cromwell. I sent ten packhorses out and brought a large quantity of stone in and got it crushed. It did not pay well enough for me to apply for the ground and put men on to work the reef. On that tour of prospecting we found two gullies from which large quantities of gold had been taken, and men made their piles and went home. On that tour I lost over £100, but did good for others.
After a spell, and getting my horses fresh, I started again to look for a cinnabar reef in the locality of the Lammerlaw Ranges. I pitched my tent and prospected about for six days,
It was now in the year 1877. I had a good credit in the bank in Cromwell. I thought of taking a trip to my Mother Country, which I had not seen for over fifty years. I sold my two horses at Lawrence, took coach down to Cromwell, and settleddown for a while. A great many of my Cromwell friends wanted me to start business again, but I had made up my mind to go home to the Old Country.
One night, in the Town Hall, there was a very large meeting held. I was away from home at the Dunstan. A storekeeper came into the hotel I put up at, at which I was drinking a glass of wine along with the host of the hotel. The storekeeper's name was Stanley. He said, "Hullo, Barry, there is a great meeting about you in the Town Hall. It was crowded when I left at eight o'clock." I said, "What is it all about?" Stanley said, "It is all about you and the Government, but you will see all about it when you go home."
I had settled my business at the Dunstan and returned to Cromwell. I was called upon by a dozen leading men of the town; they said the meeting that was held in the Town Hall was to get the Government to send me home to England to lecture on New Zealand as a field for emigration, knowing that few, or perhaps no one has visited this country after fifty years' absence from the Mother Country, who possesses more knowledge of the Colonies and their capabilities than I did. They then handed me a testimonial to send to the Government. Sir George Grey was then Premier of New Zealand. This testimonial was sent to the Premier, signed by over 200 leading men of Otago and Victoria, saying that they had known Captain William Jackson. Barry, either in New Zealand or Victoria, during a number of years as a most enterprising and energetic man, who was always full of hope in the future prosperity of
Immigration Office, Wellington ,September 25th, 1878. Sir,—Under instructions from the Hon. Mr. Stout, I have the honour to inform you that, as you are about to leave for England, the Government have decided to employ you as an agent for the introduction of immigrants to this Colony, and have accordingly authorised the payment of the sum of £40 for passage money.
They also gave me letters to the Agent-General in London, Sit Julius Vogel.
After getting business matters all settled with the Government, I returned to Otago. On arriving in Dunedin I met a great many friends, who wanted me to deliver an address before leaving for the Old Country. After staying a few days in Dunedin, I took coach for Cromwell, and was met at the bridge by half the townspeople, who gave me three cheers. I settled my business in Cromwell, and made a home for my two little ones, packed up for a start, and went to the bank to draw out what money I had to my credit; I had cash to the amount of £630. I drew it all, and took a draft for £500 and £ 130 I took in gold.
I was then about to make a start for town. I wished my friends good-bye, and took coach for Dunedin. After staying two days in town I took my passage on board the "Wakatipu," Captain Wheeler. The "Wakatipu" was one of the Union boats that were running constantly between New Zealand and Sydney. Captain Wheeler had command of that vessel for many years; he was a careful man, and was very well liked by his passengers. I shall have something more to say about this gentleman further on.
We had a good run over to Sydney, and I was thankful for it, as I had the gout, and was laid up for two months in Sydney before I was able to leave for England. A very large steamship
came into the harbour, "The Aconcagua," and I engaged my passage in her for London. Many of my friends went on board to have a look at her. Next day I took my luggage aboard, and made a great friend of Captain Conlon. "The Aconcagua" is a steamship of 4000 tons register and 345 feet in length, being the largest steamship that ever came into the South, Pacific at that date, and, by the way, it is but just to give the greatest praise to Captain Conlon and the officers of the ship for the excellent discipline on board and the satisfaction given to all the passengers.
Every evening there were all kinds of amusements on board, including music and dancing. The weather throughout the voyage was so fine that an open boat could have come the entire distance—in all my experience at sea I never had a finer passage. At the request of my fellow-passengers, I gave an address upon the outlines of my manuscript which I was taking Home to put into book form. I received their thanks, and about one hundred and twenty gave me their names as subscribers. On arrival in the West India Docks, the passengers mustered to give Captain Conlon three hearty cheers, and to repeat their thanks for his kindness and courtesy to every one on board.
Thus I found myself once more in Old England after an absence of more than fifty years—and how many changes had taken place in that time, both in England and New Zealand!
When I landed in the colony in 1829, it was in its wild state, inhabited by its aboriginals, and when I left, in 1878, it was in a high state of civilisation. I brought ray family from Victoria in 1861, and settled in Otago. This was the first of the goldfields in that country. In 1861 Dunedin was a very small town compared to what it now is, and in my experience no town has made more progress. On my landing, there was no town beyond 25 miles from the seaboard. Ship after ship, from Victoria to Port Chalmers, brought its hundreds of miners to seek gold. On the way to the goldfields many privations were endured, and the colonists carried their tents on their backs. Towns of canvas at once sprang up on the goldfields, but provisions were scarce and hard to get. I have known flour to be sold on the Dunstan at 2s. 6d. per lb, and meat at 1s. 6d., both being difficult to obtain even at these prices. Dunstan lies on the Molyneux River, 200 miles from Dunedin. The way there
at that time lay through a vast, wild plain—now it is fertile land and farms. The cause of this transformation is stated in a few words. The Molyneux River was rich in gold. Two men named Hartley and Riley got two hundredweight of the precious metal, and a great rush of people to the spot took place. Immediately afterward the Government of the day gave £1000 to those men for the discovery. About 14 miles up the river another rush took place, but it was on the opposite side, and there was no convenience by which to get across. A boat was speedily built, however, to convey miners across, and there were soon 200 tents pitched by diggers. This canvas town was named Cromwell, and it is now one of the finest and best-built towns in Otago. It is surrounded with mineral wealth, and at its back lies a valley of good fertile land, 35 miles in extent, running up to a magnificent lake 60 miles long by seven wide. As yet this fine valley is lying comparatively dormant for want of men to cultivate it, there being only about six farms in it. Nor is this the case with this particular spot alone; there are many more equally good, lying waste for want of agricultural settlers.
The great proportion of the inhabitants are diggers for gold, who get well paid for their labour. Two men in this locality were the first pioneers to the goldfields, and they have to my knowledge taken over £30,000 out of gold and quartz. One is named G. W. Gudger and the other Thomas Logan. But to Mr. Gudger must be given the credit of making Cromwell what it now is, and looking at its mineral wealth in coal, iron, copper, plumbago, etc., it is evidently destined to become a vast manufacturing town such as Birmingham or Sheffield in England. I must not omit to mention Lake Wakatipu, which I have visited. It is about 60 miles long by five miles wide. Its depth is over 200 fathoms in places, and it would float the entire British navy. Some of the finest scenery in the world surrounds this lake, and the neighbouring hills are capped with snow all the year round. There are steamboats running on the hike from Queenstown to Kingston to meet passengers coming by rail, and numerous tourists come to view the magnificent scenery of the district. The railway running to this lake was opened in 1978, and has proved to be a great boon to wool-growers. Previous to the opening of the line, it was a journey of four weeks from the seaboard to the towns situate on the lake, owing
to the bad roads, but the energetic farmers can now get their produce forwarded in a few hours. All this is due to the energy of Mr. James Macandrew and Sir Julius Vogel. It was their scheme to open the country, which has caused so much benefit, not to the farmer alone, but to the entire population of New Zealand.
The changes that have taken place in navigation in the interval of fifty years, are not less striking. Passing through from the Red Sea to the Mediterranean
viathe Suez Canal, we had a splendid run in the recent voyage, having left Adelaide on the 18th January, 1878, and reached Plymouth on the 5th March following: but when I left home, at ten years of age, it was a seven months passage from England to Sydney. We came home in less than seven weeks! Progress in shipbuilding, steam-navigation, and the Suez Canal have made all the difference.On my arrival in London, I was surprised to see the bustle and traffic of the streets, the network of railways running over and under the houses, and squalid misery and abject poverty of some of the inhabitants of the poorer localities. I could not help contrasting London in this last particular with the country I had left, where labour is at a premium and starvation a thing unknown.
ChapterXX.
The Queen's Hotel, London, and its proprietor—I interview Sir Julius Vogel—A change, of Government mid its consequences—A long lecturing tour—I meet the Tichborne claimant—Not Orton, hut Castro—I address a big meeting at Nottingham—My book is published—I return to New Zealand—I settle in Dunedin and stand for Parliament—My address to the Electors—I write to Mr. Rolleston for recognition of my services in England.
It is a singular coincidence that, shortly after my arrival in London, I made the Queen's Hotel, St. Martin-le-Grand, my headquarters, little thinking that the site of the hotel was that of the Bull and Mouth, where, in 1828—when a boy of ten years of age—I put up with Sir John Alcock, previous to our leaving England in the "Red Rover." The landlord at that time was the celebrated Edward Sherman, then the largest coach proprietor in England. I have a vivid recollection of the old house, and my astonishment was great to find it transformed into the present noble and commodious hotel, "The Queen's" kept by Mr. Quarterman East. This gentleman was, I understand, Sheriff of London in 1876-77, and is deservedly one of the most popular hotel proprietors in England. The Queen's is situated in the very centre of London, and almost the entire population of a village can sleep within its walls, as it "makes" over 250 beds every night. I can state, from personal experience, that every attention is paid to the comfort of its patrons, and the charges are most moderate. The Queen's is a favourite resort for colonists, and certainly they who visit the Mother Country, from time to time, cannot find a more comfortable home in London. Mr. East, the proprietor, is also well known as a breeder of
I was a few days in London before I called on the Agent-General for New Zealand, at No. 7, Westminster Chambers. When I arrived there, I met Mr. Kennaway, Secretary to Sir Julius Vogel, and I presented my credentials from the New Zealand Government. Sir Julius had been laid up with gout, and I had to call several times at the office before I could see him. At last I got an interview. He asked me what had kept me so long on the road, as over eight months had passed away since I got the letters from the Government. I told Sir Julius that I had been laid up in Sydney over two months with gout. He said, "Do you know there has been a change of Government since you left Now Zealand? The Grey Government is out of power. It is the Hall Government now, and they are retrenching, and I have to retrench, so I would advise you to go back to New Zealand. It may be some time before I can help yon."
I told Sir Julius I had a manuscript I had brought Home with me to be put into book form. He had a look at it, and said he would introduce me to some of the large publishers in London. I thanked him, and he also said it would cost a large sum of money to bring it out. I told him that I was sent Home to lecture for the New Zealand Government, and I intended to do so, and get good men to come to the Colony and bring plenty of cash with them. I said if I cannot get instructions from you I will start a lecture or two hers in London. I have plenty of money to pay my expenses, and I intend to do some good for New Zealand now that I am in England. I then took a cab and drove to my hotel. I had a good look round London for a few days before I made a start on my lecturing tour through England.
One night, in the smoking-room of the Queen's Hotel, I was having a smoke, when three gentlemen came into the room and stood before the fire, conversing about Arthur Orton, the Tichborne Claimant. I looked up and said, "I should like to see
I was then introduced to Lord Rivers, Dr. Kenealy, and Mr. Guilford Onslow (Lord Onslow's uncle). Lord Rivers said, "Captain Barry, I heard you say when I was in the smoking-room that you would like to see Arthur Orton. Where did you know Orton?" I said, "In the Colonies; he was in my employ in Victoria." Lord Rivers said, "You shall see him; I will get you a permit from Mr. Cross, and you can go with us next Monday."
They obtained the permit, and when Monday came round sent for me to join the party. We drove to the station, and there found a number of gentlemen waiting for the train to go to Portsmouth, the Claimant then being in Portsea prison. We all got into one carriage, the party consisting of Lord Rivers, and two other noblemen, Dr. Kenealy, Mr. Guilford Onslow, Mr. Quarterman East, and myself.
Arriving at Portsmouth, we found two carriages waiting, and were driven to the Bedford Hotel, where we put up for the night. About ten o'clock next morning the hotel was surrounded with people. I asked what was the reason, and Lord Rivers said he thought I was the cause, as the London Times had announced that Captain Barry was to go to Portsmouth to identify the Claimant. At about twelve o'clock we drove to the prison, the crowd following us.
On leaving the carriage we were rushed by the crowd, and I was glad to get inside the prison out of their way. We all went into a room, the Governor of the gaol came in and Lord Rivers and Mr. Guilford Onslow went away with him.
In about fifteen minutes a head warder came to the door and asked for me. I left the room and followed the warder into a small yard, where about twenty gentlemen were assembled. Five prisoners were brought into the yard, all of them being dressed alike. Lord Rivers came to me and said, "Now, Captain, you
Four of the men were sent out of the yard, and the Claimant was put into a room by himself. He looked hard at me and I said, "Well, sir, I am sorry to see you here; do you know me?" He at once said, "No," he could not recall my name, but he thought he had met me in the colonies. I told him that I had seen him in company with a man that called himself Arthur Orton, and that he was killing cattle for me in Ballarat, Victoria.
The Claimant then called me by name, and said, "I know you now, sir, and I am glad you have come to see me. You are the only gentleman that has called on me from the colonies since I have been in prison." He then told me that he had got seven years for swearing that he was not Arthur Orton, and also seven years for swearing that he was Sir Roger Tichborne, which, he said, "I am, and you are sure that I am not Arthur Orton." I replied, "Well, sir, I have seen you in company with Orton, and you called yourself Tom Castro; and you never told me that you were Sir Roger Tichborne, nor that you had any claim to any estate. When I came into this prison I expected to see Orton, instead I have interviewed his mate, Thomas Castro."
I looked round and said, "My Lords, if this man Castro has been sentenced to seven years for swearing that he is not Arthur Orton, he is here a victim to mistaken identity; and as soon as I get outside of these gates I shall let the world know who this man is."
I promised to write to the Home Secretary, Mr. Cross, which I did, and also to the London Times. When we left the prison there were about three thousand people assembled to hear the news. We drove, to the Bedford Hotel, and the crowd followed us. I had to go outside to explain my interview to the crowd; they gave me three cheers and left.
I shall have something more to say about the Claimant further on. Mr. Guilford Onslow and Lord Rivers made an
I made up my mind to give a lecture on New Zealand as a field for emigration. I announced that I would give an outdoor lecture at Peckham Rye. The night before Dr. Kenealy came to my hotel and arranged to take the chair. The next day we drove to Peckham Rye, and at 2 p.m. I got on to the platform that was put up for me. There were about four thousand people present.
The nest day I was writing a letter in the smoking-room, when Lord Rivers, Guilford Onslow and Dr. Kenealy came in. Dr. Kenealy asked me if I could spare the time to go to Nottingham, as the Magna Charta and Tichborne Release Associations were to have a meeting. I told him I could hardly spare the time, as I was very busy about my book, which I wanted published. My manuscript was on the table, and Lord Rivers said, "Captain Barry, let me take your manuscript, and I will have it put into book form for you."
The Doctor then said: "Now, Captain, the trouble about your book is all settled, Lord Rivers will see to that." I asked him how soon he would want me. He said, In a few days." I then consented to go. One morning, at the breakfast-table, a gentleman brought me the London Times. I read the announcement of the meeting in Exeter Hall, Mansfield Road, Nottingham:—"Magna Charta and Tichborne Release Association.—A National Conference of the above association will be held on Monday, October 13th, 1879, at the above place, when the following gentlemen are expected to attend to take part in the proceedings and to further the candidature of Sir Roger Tichborne as M.P. for Nottingham at the next election, on independent principles:—Lord Rivers, Dr. Kenealy, M.P., Captain Morrison, G. B. Skipwith, Esq., Guilford Onslow, Esq., Captain Barry, of New Zealand, J. Hesby, Esq., Quarterman East, Esq. (late Sheriff of London), and others from all parts of the United Kingdom. The president, Doctor Kenealy, M.P., will preside. The conference to commence at 10.30 a.m. Captain Barry, thrice Mayor of Cromwell, New Zealand, who employed Arthur Orton in
I was reading the newspaper when Dr. Kenealy came into the dining-room, and said: "Captain Barry, we leave for Nottingham to-morrow by the morning train. Lord Rivers, Onslow, and myself will call for you and Mr. East on the way to the station." He told me at the same time that Messrs. Sampson, Low, Marston, Searle, and Rivington, Crown Buildings. Fleet Street, had got my book to publish, and I felt easy in my mind.
When I arrived in Nottingham, the town was full of people. I saw men walking about with advertisement boards on their backs announcing that the public meeting was to be held. When the meeting came off there were over four thousand people present. I was called upon and addressed the audience, for half an hour. A great many speeches were made by other gentlemen, and the meeting lasted two and a half hours. I was asked to write to the Home Secretary before I left England for the colonies. I gave my word I would do so, and also to the London Times and other leading newspapers.
I stayed in Nottingham a few days, and gave a lecture on New Zealand as a field for emigration. I had a very large audience, and was well received and listened to with the greatest attention. I persuaded many to seek the new country. I then left on a lecturing tour all through England, and visited various agricultural districts, and delivered addresses describing the advantages of the colony as a field for capital, knowing that few, or perhaps no one, has visited England after fifty years' absence, possessed more knowledge of the colonies than I did. After touring through the Midland Counties I returned to London and took train for Edinburgh.
On Sunday, 28th December, 1879, I was getting down from a tram-car in Princes Street, when I fell on my head. I was taken into an hotel, and lay there insensible for two hours. Doctors were sent for, and I was put to bed. In the morning I was just able to come down stairs. I went to the door and saw a great number of people running about and crying out—"Have you heard the news? The Tay Bridge is carried away
I was laid up a week before I could travel. I then took train for London, and, on arriving at the Queen's Hotel, I met Lord Rivers, who told me that my manuscript was now in book form. I thanked him, and went to the publishers in Fleet Street, and obtained a few books, of which I sent one to the Queen and one to Lord Rivers.
The Queen wrote me a letter, thanking me for the book. I was in bad health, and could not get about to sell my books to get a few pounds to carry me on. I had made up my mind to leave England as soon as possible, but the fall I got in Edinburgh took me some time to get over, and I was laid up in London through it. When well enough I called on the Agent-General, Sir Julius Vogel, and told him that I had laid out my last pound in paying for halls and travelling all through England delivering lectures to induct the right sort of people to go to New Zealand and settle. I told him I had lectured on one hundred and twenty-one platforms and had spent all the money I had brought home with me.
Sir Julius Vogel said, "The Grey Government sent you Home and when you are ready to go back come and see me, and I will send you back when you think fit to go."
I went back to my hotel quite down-hearted, but I met Mr. Guilford Onslow and Lord Rivers and told them I was in a fix after spending £450 in lecturing all through England for the New Zealand Government, and all I had left was £2. Lord Rivers gave me a cheque for £20 and Guilford Onslow gave me one for £10, and I was in funds again.
They drove me to their estates, where I stayed about two weeks. Twice I drove round Rotten Row. Mr. John Bright, from One Ash, Rochdale, sent me a letter to the Queen's Hotel, inviting me to his estate to stay for a few days. Seeing so many letters and reports as to my lectures about emigration he wished to see me before I left for New Zealand.
I interviewed that great statesman, and was his guest for ten days. I have letters now in my keeping from Her Majesty the Queen and sundry noblemen of England.
I had at this time made up my mind to leave England. I called on Sampson, Low, it Co., who published my book, and had
The "City of Florence" was about to leave for Otago, and I went to the docks to have a look at the vessel. The passengers were coming on board with their luggage, and many of them knew me by attending my meetings. The captain was a fine fellow, and there were a nice lot of passengers on board. The next day I went to the office and took my passage for Otago, and put my luggage on board. The following day, the "City of Florence" was towed down the Thames, and we had a good passage, but a long and tedious one, of ninety-five days. When we landed in New Zealand most of the passengers bought land and made homes for themselves. They gave Captain Hunter a dinner for the kindness he had shown to the children on the passage. Many of my friends came round and wanted me to give a lecture, but I wanted to get to Cromwell to see my friends there.
My Dunedin friends would not hear of my going till I delivered an address in Dunedin. I consented to give one lecture; the subject was "What I saw in England." My friends engaged the Drillshed, and Mr. Horace Bastings took the chair. The house was crowded, and after two hours speaking the meeting closed with three cheers for "The Pioneer."
The lecture paid me well, as I had all the proceeds for myself, a few of the leading men of Dunedin having paid all the expenses. During my tour through England, my expenses came to very nearly £500, and my friends said, "Well, Captain Barry, write a letter to the Government, you will be sure to get back the money it has cost you. We notice that a great many of the passengers that came by the 'City of Florence' attended your lecture." I heard them say that it "was Captain Barry who caused about twenty of us to sell out our farms, and come to New Zealand, and we brought capital with us to buy farms, and settle in New Zealand."
The next day I met Mr. Horace Bastings, M.H.R., who presided at my lecture, and asked him if I could have the use of
I stayed in the district a few days, visiting ray friends, and began to think writing books was a good line. The Cromwellites wanted me to settle down and stand for the Mayoralty again; but I distinctly said no. I had lost too much money at it already, and could do better at writing books and selling-them. I went by coach to Dunedin, and took up my lodgings at the Shamrock Hotel.
I met Mr. Macandrew, and asked him to intercede for me, as I had written to the Hon. W. Rolleston to see if I could get back the money I had laid out in England. A few years after I petitioned the Seddon Ministry, thinking it was a Liberal Government. I shall speak about their liberality further on.
I was in Dunedin for two years auctioneering, and made a good living. I then set about writing another book, entitled:—"The Australian Colonies, and Men and Women of the Times." After completing my manuscript, I made up my mind to lecture through the Australian Colonies. About this time there was a general election for the House of Representatives. A requisition was sent to me, and I consented to stand against the Hon. Thomas Dick and Mr Downie Stewart. This was in December, 1881. After sundry meetings, I fell sick, and resigned in Mr Downie Stewart's favour.
I then wrote an apology to my supporters. The requisition that was sent to me is as follows:—
"Dunedin West.
"To Captain William Jackson Barry.
"We, the undersigned, respectfully request that you will allow yourself to be nominated, as a candidate for the House of Representatives, at the next General Election, for the West Ward, and we hereby pledge ourselves to do all that lies in our power to secure your return. Knowing you as an old and experienced
It was signed by about fifty of the leading citizens of Dunedin.
The following is a copy of my apology on retiring.—
" ,Morning Herald, DunedinDecember 9th, 1881. "To the Electors of Dunedin West.
"Gentlemen,—I feel that an apology is due to you, and to my supporters particularly, on account of my resignation; but it has been forced upon me by illness. Since the day of nomination I have been confined to the house, until Tuesday, and I could not consequently hold meetings and prosecute my canvas. Therefore, I felt it was my duty to my supporters to leave them free. Had it not been for my illness, I feel certain that on Friday I should have headed the poll. My meetings were the most enthusiastic of any that have been held. The requisition that was sent to me was most numerously and respectably signed, and Friday evening would have seen me carried triumphant on the shoulders of the delighted electors, as was the case when I addressed them. Gentlemen, I respect my opponents, who carried on the contest with me, as far as it went, like men; but I have a hearty contempt for such detractors as Mr. ex-policeman——, who had the audacity to attack not only myself, but the gentleman who proposed me, and whom I have known for years as an honest and respectable citizen. I would like to ask, Who is this Mr.———? He seems to be particularly fond of seeing his name in print. But, has he expended his capital in the country, as I have done? Can he say, as I can, that he has built half a town? Can he point to a single thing that will evidence the possession of an ounce of brains? Certainly his literary productions do not. I have had to bear sneers, too, of some of the penny-a-liner class. It was such people I referred to as having less brains than Mr. Inglis's monkey, and I can afford to pass them by. Had I been able to address you, I would have explained my views fully to you; and believing that, although not endowed with education, except such as has been, self-obtained, I still have learned sufficient by experience and innate common-sense to well qualify
me for the position of legislator in a new country like this. I shall now briefly state those views, and must urge on those fortunate enough to be elected to bring them forward in the House, as being calculated to push New Zealand along the path of progress, make her great, glorious, and free, and enable her soon to wipe off the liabilities now hanging over her head. "First,—I may say that I should have been an out-and-out supporter of Sir George Grey. He is, in my opinion, the ablest statesman who has ever breathed in the Southern Hemisphere. Second,—On the land question I am sound; the squatter's monopoly should be broken up, and free selection introduced at a fair price. Third,—The Otago Central Railway should be prosecuted at all hazards. Fourth,—I favour direct steam communication with Britain; but I object to dredging the Port Chalmers Bar, breaking the crust of which would Only render it a shifting bar, unless it is a reef, when it would cost millions. Fifth,—I totally object to the Bible in schools. Sixth,—I urge the introduction of diamond-drills by Government to develop our immense mineral wealth, and lead to the erection of smelting-works. Seventh,—I would have the eight-hours' system made the law of the land, being a working-man myself, and wishing justice for the poor as well as the rich. Eighth,—I am a freetrader in principle, but would encourage local industries. Ninth,—I would open publichouses during certain hours on Sunday, as in England. Tenth,—I object to squatters getting compensation where they obtain a pre-emptive right. Eleventh,—I would grant publicans compensation for the loss of their licenses through local option. Twelfth,—I would see justice done to Catholics in the matter of education, granting them aid in their private schools. Thirteenth,—I distinctly object to railways being made by private companies, and would see that the railway workshops here were kept as fully employed as at Christchurch. Fourteenth,—I look with abhorrence upon the restrictions of the Gaming and Lotteries Bill, for from my youth up I have heartily encouraged all British sports, and particularly the noble pastime of horse-racing; and how the new Bill has affected this popular branch of sport was shown on the recent race days, when the course appeared to be enveloped in mourning, from the absence of the cheerful and customary 'little games,' Fifteenth, I deplore the infliction of a beer tax, which falls upon a class, and particularly upon the working-class, to whom
a glass of beer is a necessary beverage. Sixteenth, I would see justice done to the Volunteers, who have proved themselves able and willing to die for their country. Seventeenth, I would severely criticise the action of the Government in Native affairs, as they have overstepped the bounds, in my opinion, altogether. Eighteenth, I would support another five million loan, and consider, had I been returned to Parliament, I could have lent valuable assistance in helping to lay it out in a right direction. "Gentlemen, at some future time I hope to solicit your suffrages, and regret, as I am sure you yourselves do, that on this occasion, through illness, I had to throw up the sponge. I may state that I intend to obtain a hearing from the House as to the rascally way in which the Government have neglected my services in England, and hope to have the support of all the Otago members, for I have been one of Otago's best friends. Had I served my own interests as I have served those of my adopted country, I would to-day have been one of the richest men in the Australasian Colonies. I expect compensation from the New South Wales Government in respect to my Bathurst property. Meanwhile, thanking most heartily the numerous gentleman who so enthusiastically supported me, and assuring you I would have been proud of the honour, which I think I deserve, of being a legislator in this rising Colony, "I remain your obedient servant,
"William Jackson Barky."The following is a copy of a letter which about this time I sent to the Hon. W. Rolleston:—
"Dunedin, December 7th."
"Hon. W. Rolleston, Minister of Immigration, Wellington.
"Sir,—Referring to the memorial, addressed to the Government in October, 1877, signed by many of the chief representative men of Otago, requesting that I might be engaged as an Immigration Agent to proceed to the United Kingdom, and to the fact that I have since then devoted the whole of my time and energy to the work, and have been the means of giving no inconsiderable impetus to the removal of capitalists from England to New Zealand, I have now respectfully to submit that it is only right that the Government should reimburse me for the actual outlay which I have incurred in the service of the Colony. I have a letter from the Immigration Minister to the
in which the question of my engagement was left to his discretion. When I reached Home, Sir J. Vogel had just received a telegraphic message from the Government, which precluded him from incurring expenditure. I, therefore, proceeded on my own responsibility, and at my own cost and expense, expending £500 in travelling through England and enlarging upon the advantages which New Zealand presented to labour and capital. The result I need not describe. The Press throughout the United Kingdom gave ample testimony as to this, and I have no hesitation in saying that, through my efforts and labour, a wider and more extensive interest has been excited in New Zealand than has ever been created through any individual instrumentality. I may say that Sir Julius Vogel, in a letter to Mr. Macandrew, admits the value and extent of the services which have been rendered by me. I shall not further dilate upon this now, as I trust that is unnecessary, and that the Government will see its way to reimburse me the outlay which I have incurred, either in money or in land. Agent- General, Agent-General "Soliciting the favour of an early reply,
"I remain, Sir, yours obediently, " ." William Jackson BarryCopy of letter sent to Wellington 20/4/80 .
ChapterXXI.
I visit the Australian Colonies—A Long Lecturing Tour—Notes on Australian Gold Discoveries—Some Famous Nuggets—I arrive in Wellington—Old Colonists and Old Friends—I start off to Prospect the King Country—My Experiences—I meet Mr. Cadman—His Promises—I Petition the House.
After writing to the Hon. W. Rolleston, I settled in Otago for six or seven years, auctioneering and writing the manuscript of a book entitled:—"The Australian Colonies, and Men and Women of the Times."
In 1887 I left New Zealand for New South Wales, to make a tour through the neighbouring colonies, taking with me a large quantity of copies of the book which I had published in England, entitled, "Ups and Downs, or Fifty years' Colonial Experience." Arriving in Sydney, I sold a number of my books to old acquaintances. I then started on a lecturing tour through New South Wales, meeting many old colonists, and obtaining a great number of subscribers for my new book, and also sold a quantity of the "Ups and Downs." After finishing New South Wales, I left for Victoria, where I delivered sundry lectures, and visited several mines.
I also met a number of old Californian diggers, from whom I gleaned a great deal of information about the large nuggets found in Victoria. After travelling six months through that country, I left Victoria for Tasmania; and delivered addresses almost all through that Colony. I took notes in my diary on everything of importance while in Tasmania, and I also met many old acquaintances of the early days.
After a successful tour in Tasmania, I took my passage for Adelaide, South Australia, and made a very successful tour
Before proceeding further with my personal experiences, I wish to jot down a few notes about the gold discoveries in Australia and some information concerning some of the big nuggets.
Victoria, Australia, is famed for its nuggets in the history of its progress in gold mining. During my tour through that Colony, I gathered a good deal of information about the nuggets obtained in that country. Records are found of enormous lumps of gold, and the greatest excitement prevailed when large nuggets were found, resulting in "rushes." Though gold was found in the early part of the century, it was not until 1851 that gold-mining became general. In 1851 two men, at Clunes, washed 50lbs. weight of gold in two days, and before the end of the year gold was found in various places, Ballarat coming to the front as the richest goldfield in the world. At the various goldfields diggers flocked in thousands, sometimes as far as 20,000 to 40,000 persons arriving on new diggings in the space of a few weeks or months. Bendigo, now Sandhurst, Castlemaine, and other places were soon populated, and the country became full of adventurers.
In 1852, it is said that 100,000 people landed in the Colony from Europe, and in more than one instance men went back on the return voyage of the ships by which they had arrived, having made their fortunes. One man had his horse shod with gold, but afterwards came to want. The game of "ninepins" was played with bottles of champagne, and dozens of this drink were emptied into tubs, and drunk from tin pannikins. Such was the rush that cabbages sold for 20s. each; fowls, 15s; eggs, 1s; and butter, 5s per pound. For years this excitement was kept up, and as nuggets were found and proved fortunes in themselves, the yearning for goldfields continued. Amongst those happy finds, "The Welcome Stranger," discovered on February 5th, 1858, is recorded as being the heaviest and most valuable nugget
The "Welcome" nugget, found at Bakery Hill, Ballarat, on June 15th, 1858, was sold for £10,500, and after being exhibited for some times, was sold in Melbourne for £9325. This nugget weighed 2,159 ounces, and was found at a depth of 180 feet. This valuable nugget found its way to London, where, in November, 1859, it was melted and was found to contain 99·20 per cent. of pure gold.
The "Victorian" nugget, found in the White Horse Gully, Sandhurst, in 1852, weighed 340 ounces, and was bought by Parliament at a cost of £1,650 for presentation to the Queen. Where this nugget was found various others were discovered, some close to the surface, and weighing three hundred or less ounces. Nugget-hunting must have been exciting. We read of a boy, in September, 1888, digging up a 120-ounce nugget, at a depth of a few inches. In 1855, a nugget of 240 ounces was found lying on the surface at Mount Blackwood. In 1860, a moss-covered nugget was picked up, weighing 230 ounces; and, eight months later, a 236-ounce one was discovered within half an inch of the surface. On the other hand, a solid lump of gold, weighing 834 ounces, was found in 1860, at Ballarat, at a depth of 400 feet.
The "Blanche Barkly," of the value of £6,905, and weighing 1,744 ounces, was found by four men at Kingower, 13 feet below the surface. This nugget was exhibited at the Crystal Palace, London, where, it is stated, it was an object of great interest owing to its bulk, brightness, and solidity. The fortunate owners are said to have netted an average of £50 a week, Such was the run to see this lump of gold.
Another party of four found, in the Canadian Gully, Ballarat, at a depth of 60 feet, a nugget weighing 1,619 ounces, just after unearthing a nugget of 76 ounces. Two of the party had been in the colony not more than three months when they returned
A nugget, only 8 dwt. lighter than the last-named, which was known as the "Lady Hotham," was discovered in Canadian Gully, Ballarat, at a depth of 60 feet, amongst quartz boulders and wash-dirt giving an ounce to the ton. At the first blow of the pick the miner suspected he had struck gold; at the second the pick stuck in the nugget. Five days afterwards, in the same claim and drive, and within 10 feet of the spot where the 1,619—ounce nugget was unearthed, a nugget weighing 1,011 ounces 15dwt. was discovered.
It was somewhat of the shape of a pyramid, a very fine specimen, with snowy-white quartz attached. The two working diggers continued operations for a fortnight longer for a yield of 100 ounces of small gold, and then sold their claim for 80 guineas.—"Handbook of Australian Mines."
The "Heron" was a nugget of gold found by two young men near old Golden Point, Fryer's Creek, and which weighed 1,008 ounces, and brought £4,080. The finders of this precious lump of yellow metal had only been three months in the Colony. The history of Victoria records an almost unlimited number of lucky finds, several of the nuggets bearing common or well-known names.
"The Viscount and Viscountess Canterbury" weighed respectively 1,105 and 884 ounces; "The Precious" weighed 126 ounces; "Rum Sow," 718 ounces; "The Needful," 247 ounces; "The Schlemm," 478 ounces; and "The Spondulix," "Baron Rothschild," Lady Loch," and "Lady Brassey" are the names of nuggets found in recent years.
In 1890, I left Australia for Wellington, the Empire City of New Zealand, and paid a visit to some of our oldest settlers. Mr. George Allen, for one, who has been a boatbuilder in Wellington for many years, and is now in his eighty-third year. He was also with me at the founding of Port Essington in 1838, and it is strange, after many years, for two old colonists to meet again, and it gives me great pleasure to see him so well and hearty as he is at his age. Also, Mr. John Plimmer, who calls
The gentlemen whom I have mentioned I saw land in 1841, while I was lying in Wellington Harbour in the "Waterlily" schooner. These gentlemen are now over eighty years of age. In 1842 I ran my vessel into New Plymouth, and sold flour to the emigrants, and there I first met Mr. Carrington surveying the town, where he was surrounded by Natives, and had to run for his life, and take shelter in old Dicky Barrett's wharé.
The same year I ran the "Waterlily" into Nelson, and sold the remainder of my flour. I saw women dig potato seed, peel them, and sow the peeling for seed. Such was the state of things there at that time, when New Zealand was a Maori hunting-ground.
In 1890, after paying a visit to a few old colonists, I took the train en route for the King Country. I stayed a few days at New Plymouth, and gave a lecture on "The Early Days of New Zealand," which paid me very well. I bought a horse, and was about to start upon my campaign into the King Country. A gentleman of the name of Jones was going to the Mokau. He told me he owned a large track of country he obtained from the Maoris, and it looked like a good mineral country. He said he owned a coal mine on his land, and was well known to the public as "Mokau Jones." I accompanied him to the Mokau, and from there I started on a prospecting tour through the King Country.
I was eight months travelling over that wild region, and was much impressed with its valuable resources. I found copper ore, antimony, tin, and coal, but found no gold. I obtained a horse from a Maori that I had been with, to pack about 100lbs. of specimens to a small village called Kihikihi, three miles from the railway station. This Maori had been very kind to me, and I paid him well for his trouble. At Kihikihi I met some Maoris driving to catch the train. I left my horse in a paddock and they gave me a lift.
On arriving at the station I met two notable chiefs—Tawhiao, second "King of the Maoris," and Rewi, two great warriors. Tawhiao and Rewi asked me if I was coming up to the King Country again, and I said I was. They both gave me their address, and an invitation to call on them and stay a few days.
I left for Auckland, and on my arrival I submitted several specimens of ore to the editors of the local papers. The specimens caused great excitement. I gave a lecture on the mineral wealth of the North Island of New Zealand in Abbot's Opera House, the place being crowded with the leading people of Auckland. The next day I met a gentleman, Mr. James Mackay by name, who told me the Native Minister, Mr. Cadman, was in Auckland, and that he would introduce me to him. I was introduced to Mr. Cadman, and showed him some specimens of ore. I asked him if I could get protection on a certain block to work a mineral claim. He said, "When you come to Wellington call on me at the Government Buildings, and I will see what can be done for you."
I stayed in Auckland a few weeks, and gave a series of lectures, which paid me well. I went to Wellington, and wrote a letter to Mr. Cadman, and this was the reply:—
"No. 91, 1140. "Native Office, Wellington. 25th June, 1891. "Sir,—I have the honour, by the direction of the Native Minister, to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of the 23rd inst., with reference to the discovery you have made of what you conceive to be a valuable deposit of tin ore, situated in Native lands, within the so-called King Country, which has not yet passed through the Native Land Court. In reply, Mr. Cadman desires me to inform you that until the land is put through the Court the Government cannot grant you any protection; but that in the event of the land being hereafter required by or acceded to the Crown for mining purposes, he considers your discovery should be acknowledged in the usual way, by granting you the prior right to an extended area as a prospecting claim. Your letter has been forwarded on to the Minister of Mines.
"Signed, T. W. Lewis, Under Secretary."W. J. Barry, Esq., Post Office, Wellington.
I took a quantity of different mineral specimens to Mr. Skey, which were highly reported on as valuable minerals. I then delivered a few lectures in Wellington, on the mineral wealth of the King Country, and left Wellington by boat for Auckland. I went by train to Otorohonga to attend a Native Land Court,
I had at that time already made four trips into the King Country prospecting. The Auckland newspapers gave me great credit for my pluck and energy. I was laid up in Auckland, with la grippe, and when I got well enough to travel I went by boat to Wellington, bringing with me my mineral specimens.
I called on the Premier, the Hon. Mr. Seddon, who was then staying at the Club Hotel, taking with me a small bag, containing a quantity of my mineral specimens. The Premier examined them, and asked me the locality in which I found them—which I thought was not fair—and I gave him the name of a few blocks I had travelled over and prospected.
The Premier then gave me a letter to take to Mr. Gordon, one of the Government Analysts. I went to Mr. Gordon, and submitted my specimens for examination. I told him the King Country was full of mineral wealth, and it was strange that the Government did not take steps to give me some assistance. Leaving some of my mineral specimens with Mr. Gordon, I left his office. This was in 1894, when my funds were about exhausted. I petitioned the House of Representatives.
The following paragraph appeared in the New Zealand Times, on Friday, August 3rd, 1894:—The petition presented to the House of Representatives by Captain William Jackson Barry, which has been referred by the Petitions Committee, to the Government, "for consideration," sets out that the petitioner is now seventy-five years of age, and asks that his services to the Colony as Immigration Agent and explorer may receive due recompense, so that he may be protected against destitution, Times and other English papers. The petitioner states that he has also been instrumental in the discovery of valuable mineral territory in the King Country, which his knowledge of the Natives enabled him to find, and which will prove a valuable discovery to the Colony, For these and other reasons enumerated, the petitioner trusts that his wants will be supplied. It may be noted that Captain Barry arrived in the Colony in 1829, he being then ten years of age and that he was in Wellington when Mr. John Plimmer landed here.
ChapterXXII.
The Petition and its History—My Experiences with a Government Official—Some Interesting and Instructive Correspondence—I re-visit the King Country—A Maori Good Samaritan—Some Old Identities—Some who have helped me.
The Government placed on the estimates for me £50. I went to Mr. Barron, the Under-Secretary for Lands, to get the £50. He asked me how I wanted it. I thought he was joking with me at first. I said, "What do you mean, Mr. Barron?" "Well," said he, "I'll give you £10 now and £10 another time." I said, "No, Mr. Barron, I would sooner have none at all than have to take my money by instalments." "All right," he says, "you need have none at all, you will get it in no other way." Then I said, "I will go and see the Hon. John McKenzie, your master-boss." I left his office, and going downstairs I met Mr. McKenzie, and, after telling him what Mr. Barron had said, he called one of his messengers, sent him up to Mr. Barron to tell him to give Captain Barry his cheque at once.
I went up for my money, and told Mr. Barron there ought to be another nought on to the £50, and he gave me my cheque with a very bad grace, as I thought. I told him I intended to petition again next session, which I did. My petition was some what similar to the first. At the time the Parliament was sitting. Sir Robert Stout handed in my petition, and went into the committee-room as a witness. I was called into the committee-room by the chairman, Mr. Joyce, who said, "I have just got a letter from Mr. Barron. I will read it to you." He read the letter, and said, "In the face of this letter, Captain Barry, we cannot recommend anything." I asked the committee if they would allow me to take a, copy of the letter, which I thought
"Department—Lands and Survey." Wellington ,9th August, 1895. "Petition 175.— William Jackson Barry ."Sir,—Committee in July. 1894, the matter then being referred to the Government, and, after some consideration, it was decided that Captain Barry, being now an old man, although he had no legal or equitable claim upon the Government, should be given £50 to enable him to obtain admittance to the Old Men's Home or Benevolent Institution. This money was accordingly paid to him about October last.
"Captain Barry has no claim on the Government on account of any services which he has rendered; and if any consideration is to be given him it is only by way of charitable assistance.
"I have the honour to be, Sir, "Your most obedient servant, " A. Barron,
"Under-Secretary.
"The Chairman Public Petitions Committee, A to L." I told Mr. Joyce, the Chairman, that I would petition again next session, and try to get a hearing before the bar of the House, as I considered I had been most cruelly used by this insulting letter, as none of the present Ministry knew anything about it. I must have raised Mr. Barron's ire when I went down to his master, Mr. McKenzie. I then sat down and wrote a long letter and sent it to the press, which I am publishing in this little book of facts, entitled, "Past and Present, and Men of the Times."
Copy of a letter sent to the , datedEvening PostNovember 23rd, 1895 .( To the Editor.)Sir,—Having, during the course of a very long Colonial experience, been an active explorer, Immigration agent, and lecturer, and now being in the sere and yellow leaf of old age, and no longer able to bear the hardships that have been as nothing
to me in the past, I ventured last year to set out my position, and urge my claims for some relief or compensation for past services in a petition which I presented to the House of Representatives. It was duly referred to the Public Petitions Committee, who, after taking evidence, referred it to the Government for their favourable consideration. In the petition I set out the fact that I had, in 1878, been authorised by the Government then in power to proceed to England, and there act as Immigration agent and lecturer in the farming districts of Lincolnshire and the neighbouring counties; that I had lectured on one hundred and twenty-one platforms, to audiences comprised of the right class to make good colonists; that I had spent eighteen months in diffusing knowledge in regard to this Colony, whereby a large number of a good class of small farmers had been induced to come here, and were now excellent colonists. I also showed that all this had been done exclusively at my own expense, the Government having only, so far, provided me with a passage to England and back. The petition also showed that, in addition to these gratuitous services, I had been instrumental in the discovery of a very valuable tract of mineral country in the hitherto unexplored portions of the King Country of the North Island; also, that I had on each of five visits to that country brought down specimens of the minerals, which I submitted to the Government Analyst, Mr. Skey, who pronounced them very rich indeed; and that I had presented several of these specimens to the Hon. Mr. Seddon, who had thanked me for them. On one occasion he remarked to me, "Well, Barry, old man, you have done a lot for this Colony, we must see if we cannot do something to repay you for your services." Further, the petition set out that on the last occasion on which I made an attempt to return to the King Country I was forced to return owing to hunger and cold, the weather being fearfully stormy, so that I could not proceed. After one of my visits there, in 1891, I acquainted the Hon. A. J. Cadman with the value of the tin deposits, and gave him specimens of the ore, and asked for a prospecting claim to be granted me. This was promised in a letter dated 15th August, 1891, the Minister promising it to me as soon as the land was acquired by or ceded to the Crown. But as yet nothing further has been done. Everthing in connection with these trips, as well as my services as Immigration agent, has been at my own expense. The only consideration I ever received was a free pass on the Government railways in the North Island when I was going prospecting. Meanwhile I have placed the Government in possession of all particulars respecting the locality of the mineral reefs and the extent of the country, that must prove a source of great wealth in the near future. I need not trespass on your space to detail my Colonial experiences at length; they are well known throughout Australasia. Suffice it to say that I landed in New South Wales in 1829, and have seen the rise of that and the neighbouring Colony of Victoria. I came to New Zealand in 1827, and have remained here for the greater part of the time since then. When the Otago goldfields were first discovered, I assisted materially in their development. As a proof of the confidence in which I was held I was elected Mayor of Cromwell for four years in succession. I am now in my seventy-eighth year, and totally unfit for roughing it any longer. Hence, with the promises of assistance I had received, I depended on being treated in something like a liberal manner. Judge of my feelings then when, in the 1894 session of Parliament, my petition having received fair consideration at the hands of the Public Petitions Committee, the sum placed on the estimates had been rushed through without deliberation. They expressed regret that it had escaped their notice, but advised me to wait till next year and submit another petition. This I promised to do, and as soon after the session as possible I presented myself at the Lands Office to receive the pittance voted me by the House. I was shown into the office of the Under Secretary of Lands, Mr. A. Barron, who asked, in due official tone, how I would have it. I replied, in an off-hand manner, that it did not matter whether by cheque or notes, adding that it ought to have been £500. To this he replied that he did not intend to pay me the whole sum at once, but by instalments. I at once left the room, and went to see the Hon. J. McKenzie, and told him what had transpired. Mr. McKenzie sent someone to tell Mr. Barron to pay me the £50 at once. This Mr. Barron did with a bad grace. This session, as advised by many friends, and with the full knowledge of the Premier, I again presented a respectful petition, setting out much the same facts as before, but urging that I could have but a little white longer to live, and asked for some further relief, as the £50 voted last year had been absorbed in liabilities current at that time. The petition went again before the Petitions Committee, when a letter was read from Mr. A. Barron, under date 9th August, 1895, to the effect that the £50 voted in 1894 had been given to me "to enable him (Captain Barry) to obtain admittance to the Old Men's Home or Benevolent Institution, and stating that I had no legal or equitable claim on the Government." Mr. Joyce, Chairman of the Committee, met me, and told me that in the face of Mr. Barron's letter the Committee could make no recommendation; but he told me that the Committee bad not hinted at or suggested any such stipulation as that contained in Mr. Barron's letter. I at once placed myself in communication with the Government to protest against Mr. Barron's erroneous representation, and asking them if, under the circumstances, they were going to allow an old colonist, who had done good service to the country, to be insulted in that way, in addition to being refused such relief as to allow of him ending his days in independence. I was informed that nothing could be done daring the session on account of the pressure of business, but I was to remind the Colonial Treasurer immediately after the session and he would see what he could do. I did so, and Mr. Ward promised me he would bring the matter before the Cabinet. On the 8th November I received a letter from him, stating that the matter had been before the Cabinet, and he regretted to say that nothing could be done in the way of granting me any relief. I have already occupied too much of your space, therefore must leave your readers to judge of the way I have been treated by a so-called "Liberal" Government. I am, &c., William Jackson Barry,A pioneer of three Colonies, now in his 78th year.
The following is a copy of a letter which appeared in the Evening Post of December 10th, 1895:—
"Captain Jackson Barry as a pioneer.—To the Editor.—Sir,—I have just read Captain Barry's letter which appeared in the Wellington
Evening Postof the 23rd November, and very much regret to notice the treatment he has received at the hands of the Government, but more particularly the insult offered him by the Under Secretary of Lands, Mr. A. Barron, which was totally uncalled for, and, in Captain Barry's case, an unwarranted insult to a deserving pioneer colonist of many year standing. I have known the oldgentleman for over forty years, and have reason to speak well of him as a kind friend to hundreds of miners on the Otago goldfields in the early days. If only for that his appeal to Parliament; should have met with a more liberal response last year, and no Government official should be allowed to have spoken of him as Mr. Barron has. I hope, however, that his letter will arouse some practical sympathy for him, so that he will not have to end his few remaining years as a recipient of public charity. He has forwarded to London the M.S. of a book which he has been years at work on, and which deals with the Australian Colonies and the men of his time. If the book is half as interesting as a former publication from his pen, it will be a good advertisement for the Colony. He is prevented from getting it out through want of funds. I hope someone will initiate a benefit of some kind whereby he will be able to bring out his book as soon as possible. If a subscription were promoted I should be happy to subscribe my mite. "I am, &c., " John Brown,"Waikato (formerly of Cromwell, Otago)."
The following letter appeared in the New Zealand Times of Friday, April 27th, 1894:—
"The Unemployed Difficulty.—Sir,—Noticing the many complaints of the unemployed that they can't get work—and very sorry I am too for them—and seeing much discussion in the newspapers about how to do it for their benefit, and how not to do it, I make bold to make a suggestion. My suggestion is a little different from my friend Mr. Plimmer's. He advocates a loan, which is well enough when it comes, but it can't come until the two Houses have chewed it over, and chewing, as you know, Mr. Editor, takes a deal of time, likewise does jawing, in those palatial halls. Now, my remedy is far more simple, and comes more handy. It is prompt—no chewing and jawing, no kickshaws of business of Parliament, none of your Opposition and Government side glamour; no lobbying nor bustling of the 'boomin" kind, nor yet writing of articles, or making speeches about everything under the sun, or even deputations with M.H.R.'s in attendance, one eye on the deputations, t'other on the Minister, who has his on his colleagues—leastways, so he says, and will keep them steadily in
view. No, Sir, my remedy wants nothing of that sort. It is just the purchase from the Natives of a block of land by the Government. They know where it is, and so do I. I have indicated generally the whereabouts of the little spot, but the exact-locality—'No, thank ye, I'm not having any to-day,' as the soldier said when the drummer was going to flog the wrong man. You will all know soon enough—that is, if the Government will only buy it soon enough. I discovered it about ten years ago, and prospected it in 1889 thoroughly, with the assistance of several old Native chiefs and others, who recognised me as the young stranger who lived with their tribe far away back in the thirties, when I ran away from the whaler, the 'Mary,' of London. But this belongs to my ancient history, when I was about sixteen years old. I will get back to my friends and my prospecting. My idea was to find gold, which was what an old mining mate from Otago, whom I fell across at the Bay of Islands, laid me on to. Well, that didn't pan out. I found no gold, but I found a heap of other things—silver, coal, copper, tin, and antimony—in great abundance. I spent twelve months doing this prospecting, camping out often in all weathers, and living with the Maoris, who were very kind. When I left, three years ago, I brought away about a hundred and fifty pounds' weight of mineral specimens by train into Auckland. Through the assistance of the Premier, I got a series of assays from the Government assayist, which I published at the time, and showed along with many mineral specimens when lecturing up and down the country. Your readers, Mr. Editor, will remember the assays, for they were in your paper and in all the others. To make a long story short, they were very good, and indicated a very rich mineral field. At that time nothing could be done, as the land was not through the Court. Very soon after I left this was accomplished, and then the Government, which kept out all other purchasers, got into treaty for the block, as Mr. Cadman, then Native Minister, told me. I was promised at the time that so soon as the Government had acquired the title I should have, as my reward for my discovery, protection over a large area for prospecting. Now, Mr. Editor, I have no hesitation in saying that if the land was bought to-morrow it would support thousands of people, capital would rush the country, and within six months there would be a new mining labour market. This would be a very good thing foe me, I hear somebody say. Well, of course, I should think so. But, Mr. Editor, why not? I know no law which forbids a man to 'boom' himself as well as the country. It has cost me a lot: several hundred pounds cash, one year of hard work and cruel hardship, too cruel at my age, and three years of hope deferred and hard times, and short commons; uncommonly short they were, and, I may say, still are, Mr. Editor. But a promise is a promise, and a British Colonial Government is only another name for honesty, as I have seen no reason to doubt, during a career of sixty-five years, man and boy, sir. I wish Mr. Editor, it was also another name for quick business. If it was, then I should get my own very shortly, and all those poor fellows who can't get either bread or work would find both, and something to boot to give their "soft tommy,"—as we used to say fifty years ago aboard whaling ships. A relish, for your "soft tommy," Mr. Editor, is to see the young uns fat and well dressed, and a bit in the Savings Bank, growing into a powerful umbrella against a day's rain. Therefore, I say to Ministers, "Buy this land quick, and boom the country." To give you an idea, Mr. Editor, that these words are not the blow of an idle gale, I will take the liberty of reminding your readers of my old standing as a colonist, as I may say, one of the founders of this country, who has done better for others than for himself, as many will testify, who are now living. Amongst others, I may mention Mr. Plimmer, of Wellington; Sir George Grey; Mr. Renall, of Masterton; Mr. Brown, Upper Hutt; Mr. Carrington, of Taranaki; whom I saw nearly murdered once—in 1842 that was—when he took refuge in old Dicky Barrett's store. Mr. G. Allen, of this city, also knew me in the old days, and many more, too numerous to mention, as you literary gentlemen like to wind up with. I hope, you, Mr. Editor, will not air that other cry of your cloth, that "comment is needless." Comment, sir, is very needful. The only comment I would like is, that the land must be bought quickly, and I get my promised rights, to enable me to end my days in comfort. I am, &c., W. Jackson Barry.Master Mariner, Explorer, Pioneer, &c.
About this time the following account of my career appeared in the New Zealand Graphic:—
Captain Jackson Barry—"It is a cause for regret to think of how many men, moving about in the progress of colonisation through new lands, experience the most moving accidents by flood and field, and after becoming valuable depositories of recollections that might become historical, go down, mute and inglorious, to the grave. In the lectures which he has been delivering, Captain Jackson Barry affords to the public an entertainment of an exceptional and salutary nature, unfolding, as he does, to the eyes of a younger generation, vivid glimpses of a colonial past. It is not given to many to possess at once such peculiar knowledge, and such enduring strength for presenting it publicly as he does. Everywhere Captain Barry's lectures have been listened to with peculiar interest, and when the day arrives, in which this link which connects us with the past will have become to us a mere recollection, we shall then remember, with satisfaction, the impressions produced upon us by such an Old Identity of colonial vicissitudes."
"Captain Jackson Barry was born seventy-eight years ago, in the village of Melbourn, in the county of Cambridgeshire, Englan As a boy of only nine years of age, he went out to Sydney in 1828, in a ship carrying emigrants to "Botany Bay," as it was then called. The place, at that time, was in the rude inorganic stage of a frontier community, with primitive dwellings, and a population consisting chiefly of deported criminals, Here he remained for six years, until 1835, when he ran away in a whaling ship in Port Phillip, the present site of the city of Melbourne. There for more than a year he remained, in what was then purely bush country, and encountered the giant Buckley, an Englishman, who for more than thirty years had lived with the Australian natives, and had so far assimilated with them as to have forgotten his native tongue. In the same whaling ship, Captain Barry subsequently came down to that part of New Zealand now known as the Bay of Islands, on the north of Auckland Peninsula. Here he witnessed repeated acts of cannibalism, which appear so foreign to our mode of life as to savour of romance, and ages far remote from our own."
"During the next two years Captain Barry had some experiences of shipwreck, once in a French whaler near the equator, when he was sixteen days in an open boat until picked
up by the ship 'Huntress,' and again after leaving Port Essington. In the latter case he was cast away with two more survivors of a crew of thirty-six, one being a woman, and lived upon shell-fish for six weeks and in foliaceous garments of Adamite simplicity, until rescued by a sealing vessel bound for King George's Sound. There is so much of the true Robinson Crusoe ring in all this, that one begins to realise that the tales which so excited our imagination in youth are after all sternly real in their essentials. "In the year 1840 Captain Barry left Sydney for Calcutta. There he joined a man-of-war, and participated in the Chinese war of 1840 which led to the storming of Canton and the annexation of Hong Kong. At the former Captain Barry was present.
"For the next eight years Captain Barry was engaged in the seas about Australia whaling, but in 1849 the outbreak of the 'gold fever' in California carried him over to the Pacific Coast, where, as a pioneer and Argonaut, he took part in one of the most stirring and picturesque phases of action which have moved over the great face of the Union.
"There Captain Barry remained for five years, traversing the greater part of what now forms the States of California and Oregon, and experiencing adventures similar to those which have been popularised in the writings of Bret Harte and Joaquin Miller. Chief among these was an encounter with the Modoc Indians, on whom seven hundred pioneers wreaked summary retribution for the massacre of three hundred emigrants. Leaving California in 1855 Captain Barry returned to Victoria, where he passed seven years in avocations connected with cattle till the outbreak of the 'gold fever' in 1862 carried him over to Otago. In Otago he remained for sixteen years, chiefly in the neighbourhood of Cromwell, of which township he effected the incorporation, and was four times Mayor.
"In 1878 Captain Barry went to England. There he published the book entitled "Ups and Downs of Colonial Life" (with which those who frequent our public libraries must be familiar), and delivered one hundred and twenty-one lectures on his colonial experiences. He received a congratulatory letter from the Queen, and had audiences with many prominent parliamentarians of the day, and at Portsea Prison identified the Tichborne Claimant as being Thomas Castro, whom he had
met twice at Castlemaine, and not Arthur Orton. On the strength of this evidence a motion for a writ; of error was made in the English Courts. After two years' absence Captain Barry returned to Dunedin, and remained there until 1883. He then embarked systematically upon the occupation of lecturing through the colonies, which has so far been attended with great success. "It is impossible in the short space available here to narrate any of the interesting details which go to complete the colouring of a life so exceptionally full of incidents, and of which we have given but the barest outline. The fact remains that Captain Barry is a storehouse of valuable memories of a period already become historical owing to the rapidity with which the Australian colonies have developed. From him we have not a fictitious and overstrained presentation of life as we see it in the drama, but the reality as he himself has known it."
After finding out that the present Government did not intend to do any more for me only what they had done, and the few pounds I had having all gone in prospecting, a number of friends asked me to give a lecture on She "Mineral resources of the King Country," and they would get up a benefit for me. Mr. Jupp said if I gave a lecture he would get his brass band to turn out. I was thankful to know I had so many friends in Wellington. I intended to make another tour to the King Country and bring back a few specimens of cinnabar to Wellington. I believe the claim where I obtained the cinnabar will turn out to be a valuable mine. I gave the lecture in the Exchange Hall, and my friends paid all expenses for printing bills, &c.
The town was well posted with bills, headed, "A lecture will be delivered by Captain William Jackson Barry, our pioneer and author, and one of the founders of three Colonies. A complimentary benefit will be tendered to our pioneer, Captain William Jackson Barry, by the citizens of Wellington, previous to his leaving for the famous King Country. Subject: The past and present of New Zealand—New Zealand in 1837—His tour through the King Country—The mineral resources and wealth of that Country—An exhibition of minerals—The great boom that is coining to New Zealand. George Fisher, Esq., will preside at the lecture. Admission—3s., 2s., and 1s. All young and old colonists invited." I had a good attendance, for many turned out to hear me. Mr.
The newspapers spoke well of my address, which did me good in other places where I lectured. I got ready to make a start, and went to the Premier to try and get a pass to take me to New Plymouth. I told him I wanted to go to a certain part of the King Country to bring a few specimens of cinnabar to Wellington, and I had to go by way of the Mokau. Mr. Seddon gave me a pass to travel by train, and I started on my fifth tour to the King Country. The New Zealand Times gave me a good paragraph, saying:—"Undaunted by old age, our famous pioneer colonist, Captain Jackson Barry, is about to start on another tour into the King Country. He has already made four trips into that wild region, and has become more and more impressed with its valuable mineral resources on each successive visit. On the occasion of his return from there he brought back specimens of copper ore, antimony, and coal, all of which he submitted to the Government Analyst, Mr. Skey, who reported very highly of their quality. As Captain Barry only brought small specimens on the latter visit, he intends, during this visit, to bring one to two hundred weight of specimens to prove to the Government that his discoveries are genuine. The gallant old captain will leave Wellington to-morrow, and will probably deliver some of his characteristic lectures at several of the townships en route. He will be absent for about three months."
I took train to Masterton, and gave a lecture there. Mr. Hogg, M.H.R., took the chair, and the Masterton brass band played to welcome me. The next day I paid a visit to a few old colonists, who asked me to call on my road back from the King Country and deliver another lecture. I promised to do so. I went by coach to Woodville, where I caught the train to New Plymouth, and arrived there all safe, and bought a horse and started for the Mokau to get into the Kawhia Country, but, unfortunately, I took sick, and was laid up with la grippe and gout in a Maori whare for three months, where I was looked after by a Maori woman.
While I was laid up I had gout very badly in my feet. This Maori woman sent two young girls to gather leaves of a certain bush. They returned with a large kit full of small leaves, which they boiled and afterwards strained the water off and put it into bottles. They bound the leaves round my feet, and gave
My horse strayed away, and I gave them what little Cash I had for their kind treatment. If they took me to New Plymouth I told them they could keep my horse if they found it. The Maoris lent me a horse, and accompanied me to New Plymouth. I had only 5s. in my pocket and was half starved with cold and hunger. I knew Mr. Carrington in New Plymouth. I went to him, and, making myself known, he asked me to his house. Not being very well I stayed with Mr. Carrington a few days, and made my way to Masterton. According to my promise, I gave a lecture there. I canvassed the town, and obtained a good many subscribers for my new book, entitled, "Australian Colonies, and Men and Women of the Times," after which I called on a few old colonists, and wrote a letter to the Press, and left for Wellington. The following is a copy of the letter to which I allude:—
" To the Editor of the Wairarapa Star."Sir,—Before leaving Masterton, permit me, through the Press, to record a few remarks on my recent tour through the North Island. By the young the changes will hardly be noticed, but to the colonists who are fast passing away it seems more like a dream than reality. In 1836 I made my first trip to this Island in the barque 'Mary,' of London, a whaler. In those days, long before iron vessels were thought of, our small trading vessels were admired, and did good service, being virtually pioneers for the splendid class of steamers that now navigate our seas. In 1842 I was again in New Zealand trading with the Natives, I ran into New Plymouth with a cargo of flour to sell to the settlers, in a schooner, the well-known 'Waterlily.' Mr. G. Carrington was then laying out the streets and town. After so many years absence from New Plymouth it is strange that I should meet with that gentleman, hale and hearty, and quite smart at the age of eighty-two years. I knew Mr. Carrington in 1842, when he had to run to save his life from the Natives. He took shelter in a whare, under the care of a well-known old settler, Dickey Barratt. Mr. Carrington deserves great credit for his pluck and enterprise. My twelve months' tour, with the object
of bringing out my book—'The Australian Colonies, and Men and Women of the Times'—I am pleased to say has equalled expectations. As far as I can judge by my long experience, everything seems to be working admirably. Like all other Colonies New Zealand has vastly improved, and no doubt her mineral deposits, coupled with her rich agricultural areas, will bring her into greater prominence as time rolls on. Recently, I visited the famous King Country, where I found a network of minerals. The day is not far distant when New Zealand will receive a very large revenue from the mineral wealth of that country. During my prospecting tour I was taken very bad withla grippe. While I was laid up at Kawhia I received the greatest kindness from the Natives. I brought with me from the King Country a quantity of minerals, and have had them assayed by the Government Analyst, with satisfactory results. In Masterton I am glad to have to say that I had an interview with a colonist of the forties, and one of the pioneers of this town, Mr. Renall. Mr. Renall appears to me to be as full of vigour as half the young men. He is hale and hea