North Gregory Hotel. Robt. Fitzmaurice, Licensee. 1879.North Gregory Hotel. Robt. Fitzmaurice, Licensee. 1879.On reaching Cooktown I again loaded my three teams for Maytown, returning to Palmerville empty, where I sold one of my teams. On the trip my rheumatism became so bad that I determined to take a trip to Sydney, leaving my teams to camp during the wet season now commencing, in charge of one driver and the black boy.I left Cooktown in the E. and A. Company's s.s. "Singapore" in December, 1875. On board I made the acquaintance of Captain Pennefather, lately Comptroller of Prisons, who, at that time, had a fleet of boats at Thursday Island, engaged in pearl fishing. On arrival at Townsville, John Dean (late M.L.C.), came aboard, and we renewed an acquaintance formed some years before when he was butchering at Townsville, and where I had purchased steers from him.It was my first trip on the coast, and with fine weather, I was delighted with the beautiful scenery. Owing to the early rains the numerous islands were clad in their richest verdure, especially did the Whitsunday Passage appeal to me. Most of the islands in the passage were inhabited by aboriginals, who made a practice of coming out in their canoes to the steamers, picking up food, etc., thrown to them from the ship. One of our crew threw out a loaf of bread, which was attached to a piece of rope. A blackfellow and his gin in a canoe close by the ship caught the loaf, but the moving of our boat tightened the line, which pulled him out, his canoe being capsized, and he and his gin were struggling in the water. However, as they were good swimmers, they soon righted their canoe with the loss only of the loaf of bread. During thetrip lunch was spread daily under the awning on the top deck. This was much more pleasant than down in the stuffy cabin. After leaving Moreton Bay the sea became rough. A water spout formed not far from the ship, and it appeared large enough to swamp us had we been under it. The wind made it hard to light matches for a smoke, so Captain Pennefather introduced his flint and steel, and lit a stick composed of dry buffalo manure; this we found very useful with which to light our pipes.CHAPTER VIII.We arrived at Sydney on a Friday night early in January, 1876. John Dean required a rig out, and being a man of 21 stone weight could not buy a ready-made shirt, so had to be measured. We stayed at the Occidental Hotel, in Wynyard Square, and hearing that "Our Boys" was being played at the Theatre Royal, took seats in the orchestra stalls, which consisted of wooden spring seats. We arrived when all was quiet and the play in progress. As John sat down every screw came out of the seat, and he plumped on the floor to the amusement of the audience. The fun was greater when he was seen slowly, but successfully, to lower himself into another seat.After the performance, thinking we had sufficient bump of locality to find our hotel without inquiry, we walked, and continued walking until we found ourselves down at the wharves, which, we had been told, was an undesirable quarter at any time, but especially late at night. From a passer-by, we learnt that the hotel was a long distance off. After receiving instructions, we reached our lodging just as the bar was being closed at midnight. Dean suggested a drink, which we ordered at a side window, and asked the barmaid to bring the liquor into an adjoining room. A man calling himself Count Bismarck, and who was greatly excited about something, was in the bar. He said to Dean, "Aren't you going to shout for me." Dean replied, "No," at which the Count remarked, "Oh, never mind, I have plenty of money." Dean replied, "You must be a mean blooming beggar, then, to ask me to shout." Dean and I sat at a small table discussing the play, when a revolver shot rang out and something seemed to strike us. We immediately rushed for a green baize door, but saw no one. On returningto the room, the barmaid, who was quite pale, asked "Are you dead?" I answered, "No." At the moment I did not realise the absurdity of the question, or that the answer was unnecessary.We failed to find the German, who had disappeared. Mr. Yeo, the landlord, ran in to inquire what the trouble was. When we returned to the room I found a bullet under the chair I was sitting on. It had struck the ceiling, and brought down the plaster. Later, in Melbourne, John Dean heard that Count Bismarck had been sentenced to two years' imprisonment for shooting a man.After a very pleasant time in Sydney, I found the rheumatism had left me, so I deemed it desirable to return north, and to work. On my arrival in Townsville I found the wet season was not yet over. Many friends prevailed upon me to stay back in Townsville, where I put in a most enjoyable fortnight with some of my old pals.At the end of the fortnight, the s.s. "Banshee," a boat of about 100 tons, was advertised to sail for Cooktown,viathe Hinchinbrook Channel. I booked my passage by her, and was informed she would sail at 5 a.m. on a certain day.I was staying at the Criterion Hotel, on the beach, where the evening previous to my intended departure, I was given a send-off, which lasted into well-advanced morning. Owing to this I missed the boat.A few hours afterwards it was blowing a cyclone. Spray came over the hotel. It was thought the "Banshee" could not live through the blow, and we were not surprised when we learnt very quickly that she was wrecked about 3 p.m. the same afternoon. It was ascertained later that, finding her engines were not powerful enough to make headway against the wind, the captain tried to weather a rocky point on Hinchinbrook Island, so that he might beach her in a sandybay beyond. She failed to get around the point, and lifted by a wave over the rocks, became fixed in a cleft, where she soon bumped a hole in her hull. Such of her crew and passengers who were not lucky enough to be thrown far inland were drowned, or crushed to death. One passenger, named Burstall, crawled out on a boom, from which the waves swept him high on to the rocks. A following wave put him out of danger, but left him considerably bruised. Out of thirty-seven on board, sixteen were saved, one a stowaway, who, it was said, walked out of the hole made in the ship's hull by the rocks.A few days afterwards I returned to Cooktown by the s.s. "Singapore," and saw what was left of the "Banshee" in the distance. In February, 1877, the "Singapore" ran ashore on L. Island, off Port Mackay, and became a total wreck.I had left my riding horses in Cooktown, and a day or so after my arrival, I went on to Palmerville to send my teams down to the Port. Having done this, and started them two days ahead, Mrs. Jackson, whom I have mentioned as having met some years previously in the Peak Downs district, asked me to take 200 ounces of gold down to the bank. I agreed to do so, carrying it in my valise on the saddle. I was very glad when I reached the waggons to get rid of the gold, as it proved a very dead weight on my legs.During this wet season (1876), the Government had sent a boat to the Laura River to carry travellers across. These were very few. The boatman was very much alone, and I found that the blacks had taken the opportunity of eating him. While driving the leading team up the bank, I saw numbers of blacks' tracks all around the boat. We drew up a short distance from the bank, and after unyoking, I made my customary visit to water, with towel and bucket, which latter was filled for the cook. The water in the river was running in a channel on the opposite side, and when I was close to it, I heard a chuckle such as the blacks make. Looking towards the crossing Isaw a mob of blacks bathing, and one running towards the bank. Without a second look, I dropped the bucket, and sprinting across the sand and up the bank to the waggons, I called out, "Get the rifles ready! The blacks are at the crossing." After waiting some little time we saw Sub-Inspector Townsend and his black troopers riding towards us. He stayed for dinner, and from mutual explanations I learnt it was his troopers' tracks I had seen. They were returning from an inspection down the river, and had camped at the crossing over night. They decided to have a bogey before dinner, and the boy I saw running, went to get his uniform cap to denote a trooper. Had I taken a second look, I should have seen Mr. Townsend with them. He laughingly described me racing, hidden with sand which my feet were scooping up, in my haste to get the firearms.Up to now, carrying had been so remunerative that one would have seen one-time station managers, ex-inspectors of police, old naval men, and all sorts and conditions of other men wielding the bullock-whip and making good earnings, but as competition became keener, carriage fell much lower and more difficult to obtain. The goldfield was falling off, and more in the hands of the Chinese. I had a very hard time to keep my three teams in employment during the year.In December, 1877, I again suffered severely from malaria, and having previously sold one of my teams, I decided to make another trip to Sydney, leaving the driver to bring down the two teams to the Laura, and camp there until my return. The wet season was setting in, consequently we could not procure any loading. I had an uneventful trip down to Sydney, and again met with John Dean at Mona House, in Wynyard Square.I returned to Queensland about the beginning of March, 1878, the malaria having left me.Passing through Townsville, I met Fitzmaurice, who told me that carrying had fallen away between Cooktown and thePalmer, and that he had left that district. He suggested that I should join with him in carrying to the western country, and added that he had been informed by a squatter that there was a good opening for a store at the Conn Waterhole, on the Diamantina River. This is about forty miles down the Western River, from where Winton now is.The suggestion appealed to me, and it was agreed that I should go on to Cooktown, start my two teams overland to Townsville, then return and drive one of his three teams on our western trip without loss of time.On my arrival in Cooktown, I went to the Laura, where the teams were still camped. Everything was in order, and my bullocks fat. I started them on their long trip overland to Townsville, where Fitzmaurice and I had purchased sixteen tons of assorted merchandise from Clifton and Aplin. Arriving in Townsville in a few days by steamer, we loaded up for the far and, to most Queenslanders, what was then unknown country.Both Fitzmaurice and myself were well known to the firm through our carrying for them from the Port to the several diggings. They generously gave us the goods without our paying any cash, and without giving even the scratch of a pen. When I returned to Townsville at the end of 1879 to purchase more supplies, I signed a promissory note for the cost of all the goods at four months. Practically, Messrs. Clifton and Aplin generously gave us the sixteen tons of goods on a credit which extended over twelve months, and which were only paid for when the note matured.It was my fortune to have now met in Townsville a man who was then bearing a high reputation in North Queensland, but who was soon to become famous farther afield. By some reason I cannot even now understand, the diggers very seldom put their confidence or trust in the wrong man, and in John Murtagh Macrossan, they found their idol. Mentally big, physically small, his eloquence, ability and courage broughthim, on their behalf, into conflict with strong and powerful influences.I met him later in the Parliament of 1888. In this were many able men, but none, not even the great chiefs McIlwraith and Griffith, could overshadow Macrossan.In his private life, which was most exemplary, I found Macrossan—although it was said he was otherwise—to be most tolerant to all who might differ from him in social and religious matters. Like most of his countrymen, he was, however, in politics, a strong, bitter partisan. Once a question became political, if one did not agree with Macrossan, he made an enemy. Between him and McIlwraith a close, personal friendship existed for years, but towards the end of Macrossan's life they became estranged. This was due to the strong, independent stand Macrossan took on a political matter which gave McIlwraith offence.In a conversation I had with McIlwraith just prior to his leaving Queensland, as it turned out to be, for ever, he spoke most feelingly of Macrossan's memory and their earlier friendship.Although Macrossan had many chances of enriching himself, he died, in 1891, as he had lived, a man, poor in the world's goods, but rich in the esteem and respect of all, not excepting those who very widely, and strongly differed with him on political, national, or religious matters.Had he lived in latter years, I doubt if he would have become a popular leader of what is generally designated as "The People."He was not an opportunist, and he could not submit his independence of mind, character, or principles to any person or junta.His breach with Sir Thomas McIlwraith proved this.If an impartial biography of John Macrossan should ever be written, it will prove interesting and instructive reading.CHAPTER IX.We started the teams from Townsville about the end of July, 1878, and passed a gang engaged on construction of the railway line to Charters Towers at Double Barrel Creek, now known as Toonpan, 17 miles from Townsville.Our destination was Collingwood, more widely known as the Conn Waterhole, where the Government Surveyor had laid out a township situated about 40 miles west of Winton.Having heard that the business men of Charters Towers were offering a reward of £50 to any carrier who would open a more direct road to the western country, and that a road party had left to mark the line, we decided to try and win it. On our arrival at the Towers, we interviewed the merchants, who disclaimed any knowledge of a reward having been offered for opening the road. We decided to follow the road party, who had marked a line to junction with the old Flinders road. On the journey I found a tree on which I had cut my initials when travelling to the Gulf with sheep, some twelve years before. Owing to double banking the teams through the heavy sand bordering "Billy Webb's Lake," we had to camp without water that night. There was green picking on the water-less lake for the bullocks, but they had to be watched. The road party had left an empty cask where they had camped on the lake, and one of the bullocks, a poly, smelling water in the bottom of the cask, forced his head into it. Onliftinghis head, the cask came with it. The bullock, being unable to see, made for his mates with their bells on, and then a general stampede of the bullocks took place in all directions. Finally, a bell bullock made for the timber, the poly followed him, andrunning against a tree, smashed the cask. Thus ended an amusing incident, with no damage done except to the cask.The road party left the old road and made a ploughed furrow across the downs to Rockwood Creek, which we followed, and camped the night there.Fitzmaurice, whilst riding after the bullocks, met Mr. Bergin, the man in charge of the party, who told Fitzmaurice that he was instructed to mark a direct line to Collingwood, on the Western River, and that he intended going up Thornhill Creek, cross the divide between the Landsborough and Diamantina Rivers, and then run down Jessamine and Mill's Creeks to the Western River, and thence to Collingwood.We took the road up Rockwood Creek to its head, and crossed the same divide as the road party were going, only farther north, striking the head of Manuka Creek, which we ran down to its junction with Mill's Creek. This we followed to the present site of Winton, which we reached at the end of October. The new road opened by the road party had so many patches of heavy sand on it, and long stages for water, that it was never used by carriers, and some years later Ramsay Bros. obtained permission from the Government to close that portion of it running down Jessamine Creek, on the Oondooroo run.A few years later the Government made tanks on the road between Hughenden and Winton, after which all traffic from Townsville to Winton and the west generally, came that way.Mr. Tom Lynett, whom I had previously known on the Palmer, and who was backed by Burns, Philp and Co. to start a store, had left Townsville for the same destination as ourselves, if the locality was found to be suitable.He did not overtake his teams until they reached the Twelve-mile Hole, on the Elderslie road, where he stopped them while he rode on to Collingwood, the newly-surveyed township, to inspect.He concluded the country was subject to floods, so he turned his teams back, and decided to build on the spot on which we found him camped when we arrived with our teams.We also met a man named Bob Allen, who had been located in the neighbourhood for two years or more. Allen was an ex-sergeant of police, who left Aramac about 1875 to start a store and public house on what is known as the Pelican Hole, one mile west of the site of Winton. Very heavy rains fell in 1876, and we were told he was compelled by floods to remain two days on the wall-plate of his building.When the water allowed him, he shifted what was left of his hotel and store, and re-erected them on the present site of the Queensland National Bank, Winton.Allen, Lynett, Fitzmaurice and I discussed the removal of the building, and forming the town back on higher ground.We offered to do the work without cost, but Allen and Lynett decided to remain where they were. We had to accept the position, and agreed to build in line with the others.This formed the base upon which Mr. Surveyor Jopp laid out the township afterwards.After putting up a skeleton shed covered by tarpaulins, I obtained from Ayrshire Downs two loads of wool for our teams, returning to Townsville. In the meantime, Fitzmaurice had disposed of £600 worth of goods. I was occupied a whole day pasting the pieces of the torn and damaged cheques. I then started for the nearest bank, which was at Aramac, 250 miles away.A drought being on, I had many difficulties in getting through.There were only 5,000 sheep on Vindex, and these were camped on a water-hole which had been filled by a stray thunderstorm. The remainder of the sheep from the run were travelling for grass and water on the coast near Townsville.As a compliment, I was allowed to replenish my water-bag, and to obtain one drink for each of my two horses.My next camp was off the road on East Darr Station, where a mob of kanakas were cutting down scrub for fencing.When I reached Muttaburra, I found the hotel to be a grass hut. It proved to be a very rowdy place, so I decided to camp on the ridge outside the town without food, and have my breakfast when passing through in the morning.I carried £600 worth of cheques in my trousers pocket. This I thought was the safest place.I was very pleased when at last I reached Aramac, after bank hours, and handed the money to Mr. Fulton, the manager of the Queensland National Bank, and the next morning found only £30 of them dishonoured.Immediately on my return to Winton, I started for Townsville to load my two teams with timber and iron to build an hotel. I travelled with Fitzmaurice's teams to assist them over a dry stage to Rockwood.We camped close to Oondooroo Station and when bringing the bullocks in to be yoked in the morning, one of them jumped and tossed his head in the air, and I then saw a tiger snake disappear in a hole near by. The bullocks were yoked up, and after going a short distance the off-side poler of one of the teams dropped dead. On examination, we found two small punctures in the nose. It was the bullock I had seen jump and throw up its head.When we reached Manuka Station there was only one water-hole near the road. The owner of the station was preserving this for his stock. The distance to the next water was 20 miles, so it was absolutely necessary we should obtain a drink for the bullocks before we tackled the long stage.I interviewed Mr. Anderson, the owner, and having explained our position, asked to be allowed a drink for the bullocks. He flatly declined to allow this.After about an hour's pleading, he gave his consent subject to the proviso that the bullocks should be watered in batches of ten at a time, and so preserve the hole from being puddled. We watered the stock in the evening, and by travelling all night, managed to reach Rockwood without mishap. Here I was told I would get water for myself and horses 25 miles further on.The next water after that would be 55 miles to Hughenden, on the Flinders River.I left the teams to make a long road round Tower Hill, which was a good-watered route. When I reached the 25-mile, where I was told I would get water, I found the ground just glassy, the water having evaporated in the December sun.Knowing the distance I would have to go without water, I decided to hobble the horses out on dry grass, and dodged the sun round a tree until the afternoon, when I saddled up. In about ten miles I passed Cameron Downs Station, which was deserted. I reached the water about eight the following morning, very thankful to have come through the 80 miles safely. It had been a glorious moonlight, by which I could see the tracks of numerous snakes on the road. I felt that if my horses were bitten it would mean a perish for me.I remained at the water until about 5 p.m., when I rode into Hughenden township, which was formed on the spot where I had camped with the sheep some twelve years before. I put up at Magnay's hotel, and was glad to have a square meal for dinner.In the morning I resumed my journey, and having previously travelled the track frequently, went miles off it to obtain better feed for the horses to camp.I overtook my own teams between Dalrymple and Townsville, and drove one of them to the camp outside the latter town.After engaging another driver, the timber, iron, a billiard table and some stores were duly loaded and despatched. I remained to sign the four months' promissory notes for these and the goods previously referred to, and to give the teams time to negotiate the 30 miles to Thornton's Gap, as the crossing of the coast range was called at this place. At the foot of the Gap I joined them, and assisted in getting them to the top. I left the teams here and rode on to Winton.On my arrival, I found that Fitzmaurice had sold out of most of the supplies except the grog, which he was keeping for the hotel. He then started on horseback for Townsville to give delivery of the wool, and load up his three teams with stores, etc.; also more timber and iron to build the store. He would also bring his wife and child with him.At this time Winton was the rendezvous of some of the worst characters of the west; fights were frequent on the then unformed streets.The rowdies threatened to take the grog in the store, and as there were no police nearer than Aramac, I deemed it best to dispose of all the liquor to Allen, the local publican, who jumped at the chance to obtain a supply.A few residents formed themselves into a vigilance committee.The late Mr. J. A. Macartney passed through to visit his property, Bladensburg Station, and seeing how things were, wrote to the Home Secretary asking for police protection.My teams had now arrived with the building material, and carpenters were put on to erect the hotel. This was not finished until the end of 1879, when it was opened under the name of North Gregory Hotel.Great difficulty was experienced with the floors, there being no timber for them. We puddled the mud and got the black gins to tramp it down, adding a picaninny to their backs to increase their weight.About July of this year, Fitzmaurice returned from Townsville with three horses and a light dray on which he had brought his wife and little girl.Taking a plan of the hotel with me, I started for Aramac to interview Mr. Sword, the P.M. (afterwards member of the Land Court), to obtain a provisional license. This he refused to grant until the building was erected.When I returned Winton was entirely out of liquor, and Allen did a great business in selling bottles of painkiller as a substitute. It was laughable to see men take a bottle out of their pocket, saying, "Have a nip, mate, it's only five shillings a bottle?"About March, 1880, the Western River was in high flood, and ran miles wide.Sub-Inspector Kaye, of the native police, and Mr. John Haines, the manager of Elderslie Station, were in town, and wished to get to the station 40 miles down the river.We put our carpenter on to make a boat, which carried them and the troopers safely to their destination.Shortly afterwards Sub-Inspector Fred Murray came out from Blackall, bringing with him Sergeant Feltham, who formed the police station in a small building which I rented to them.There was only a log to which offenders were chained. One day Feltham went down to the store, leaving a prisoner chained up. Shortly afterwards he was surprised when he saw his prisoner (who was a very powerful man) marching into the public house carrying the log on his shoulder, and call for drinks. It took three men to get him back to the lock-up.Fitzmaurice's teams arriving, we were enabled to complete the store building, stock it, and the hotel, and resume business, which had been suspended owing to running out of goods, etc. My teams had gone down empty, and were now on their way up with more loading.The original name for the town—now known as Winton—was Pelican Water-holes. Bob Allen, the first resident, whom I have mentioned, acted as post-master. The mail service was a fortnightly one, going west to Wokingham Creek, thenceviaSesbania to Hughenden. There was no date stamp supplied to the office, but by writing "Pelican Water-holes" and the date across the stamps, the post mark was made, and the stamps cancelled. This was found to be very slow and unsatisfactory.Allen was asked to propose a name, and he suggested that the P.O. should be called "Winton." This is the name of a suburb of Bournemouth, Hampshire, England, and Allen's native place.We had kept one of Fitzmaurice's teams to haul in firewood, and posts to fence a paddock on Vindex run, the lessees, Messrs. Scott and Gordon, having given us permission to do so.The manager of Elderslie also gave us permission to fence in a piece of ground at the Pelican Waterhole for a vegetable garden.The team obtained employment at Bladensburg, where Mr. Macartney was building a stockyard. As I felt clerical work to be hard on me, I would take an occasional trip with the bullocks to relieve the drudgery.During this year the member for Gregory, Mr. Thomas McWhannell, passed through Winton, and opportunity was taken to bring under his notice the necessity for a water supply for the town. The disabilities we suffered under were pointed out. We had to procure water from a hole in Mistake Creek, two and a-half miles away, the water of which was frequentlypolluted by numbers of dead cattle. By his efforts a sum was passed by Parliament for water conservation.Western River In Flood. Looking South From Railway Station.Western River In Flood. Looking South From Railway Station.The Oondooroo bullock team had come in for supplies, but the driver started drinking, and was unable to take the team home.Not having forgotten my old avocation, I took his place, and thereby began a close friendship with the Schollick Brothers, who were completely out of rations when I arrived.During this year the town and district were invaded by a plague of rats, travelling from north-east to south-west in hundreds of thousands.The vermin would eat the buttons off one's coat when camping out. Cats and dogs were surfeited from killing them. I told the Chinaman cook of the hotel that I would give him a pound of tobacco if he caught a hundred rats. That night, as I was sleeping on a stretcher at the back of the store, I was several times awakened by what seemed to be a stamping of feet. In the morning I found that the Chinaman had obtained an ironbark wooden shutter, and rigged up a figure four trap with bait underneath, and by this means had obtained a wheelbarrow full of dead rats.These rats had bushy tails, and apparently lived on the roots of grass. These devastated the country through which they passed. It was unknown whence they came from or whither they went.The rats were followed by a plague of dead cats in the water-holes. The rats had gone and the cats having had plenty, did not follow, but died in the water-holes.Our team driver was James Gordon, one of two brothers who owned the selection which later became famous as Mount Morgan. We sold this team to Warenda Station, and James Gordon went with it.During this year (1879), Vindex Station was purchased from Scott and Gordon by Chirnside, Riley and Co., of Victoria, who, like other investors, spent money lavishly to develop the country.The manager was Mr. J. B. Riley. This gentleman died in 1889, but is still affectionately remembered throughout the district.To those who knew him, his death was felt as that of a staunch personal friend. By none was his death more regretted than by those who worked for him, either as permanent or casual employees, and by whom a monument to his memory has been erected on Vindex.Outside the property he controlled, J. B. had three personal hobbies, a good horse, the Winton Divisional Board, and the local Hospital. Of these three hobbies his principal one was the hospital and its sick occupants. On his death it was felt that the most appropriate monument to him would be a new ward for eye complaints to be added to the hospital.This was generously subscribed to by all classes, and the J. B. Riley ward of the institution served to remind us of one who, by his charity, goodness and generosity, was a good man, but whose shyness did not allow of this being known. His brother, Mr. F. W. Riley, and Mr. R. L. Chirnside, who were closely associated with him, carried on his good work, and became as deservedly popular.Throughout this year (1880) the town and district had made progress, and new people were coming in.We were now doing a good business in both store and hotel, consequently we had to depend on drivers for our teams without supervision.It was decided that I should follow the teams to Townsville to in some way dispose of them, and also to bring up a man to assist Fitzmaurice in the hotel.When I reached Dalrymple I learnt that one of Fitzmaurice's teams had been swept over the rocks while crossing the Burdekin River, and that eight of the bullocks were drowned. It appeared that the river, though not a-swim, was running strong at the crossing.The first team crossed safely, but on the other reaching the strong water, the driver of the team rode around to the off-side to keep the bullocks up the stream. His efforts were unavailing. With his horse he was carried into deep water, from which they were rescued in an exhausted condition. Not so with the team.The bullocks were all drowned, and the waggon wrecked on the rocks. Fortunately, being empty, only eight bullocks were yoked to the waggon, but they were the pick of the team. This accident strengthened our desire to dispose of the teams.I sold Fitzmaurice's remaining team at Townsville at a satisfactory figure, and my own two teams were sold on their arrival to one of the drivers on terms.The agreement was that we should provide him with loading from Townsville to Winton at the rate of £30 per ton, until he had paid the purchase money of it. This he did in a few trips.These teams could not carry the whole of the goods I had purchased, so I left an order with Clifton and Aplin to forward the remainder by carriers as soon as they could despatch them. I engaged a suitable man to assist Fitzmaurice, and we left with saddle and pack horses for Winton, taking the shorter roadviaCharters Towers.This we left at Rockwood, to make a still shorter route across the Downs from Culloden Station, over which the road party had ploughed a furrow across to cut the head of Jessamine Creek, at the back of Oondooroo Station.In crossing the divide between the Landsborough and Diamantina waters, we rode over virgin country which was infested with bush rats, and numbers of tiger snakes gorged after eating them.In one place, which was 25 miles from water, the snakes were so numerous that we had a difficulty in getting our pack horses safely through them. Yet it is argued that snakes are never very far from water.In 1880, Cobb and Co. bought up a number of mail services throughout Western Queensland, and the general regularity and convenience of their coaches served to open up the country. Cobb and Co. carried out its contracts under great difficulty in times of flood, but more frequently of droughts, and their record is one of which the company and its servants might well be proud. Their coaches are now practically of the past, but the time was when Cobb and Co.'s name was a synonym for efficiency and, when humanly possible, for punctuality. There were many less enjoyable ways of realising life than by, say, to be leaving Barcaldine for Aramac in the dark of an early morning on the box seat of a coach behind a spanking team of greys, driven by a master hand with the whip and ribbons. And then if one stayed the night at a stage, where two or more drivers met, and exchanged experiences of the trip, their horses, but more than all of their passengers, what an interesting time might be passed.It was remarkable how observant of passengers the drivers would be, while the passenger all the time laboured under the impression that the driver's time was taken up with his horses.The idiosyncracies of passengers would be discussed by drivers, and it more than once happened I have heard of the peculiarities of certain passengers at places hundreds of miles from where they came under observation.Nearing Charleville, on a road I had not travelled before, I had a trip I had made from Normanton towards Croydon related to me by a driver whom I had never seen until then.I learnt he was told the story by the driver of the Blackall coach, who had heard it in Barcaldine from Tommy Thompson, who was told it in Winton by Tommy Cahill, who received it at Hughenden from Martin Warneminde.I was quite satisfied and did not inquire further.Judging by the way they fulfilled the requests at different mail stages, these men must have been gifted with wonderful memories. At one stage a driver might be asked to call at Smith's, the storekeeper, and "tell him to give you a couple of pounds of tea and some potatoes for me;" at another to get a pair of boots, size three, for the missus; at Jones', to get a bottle of eye lotion, and so on. These orders would be faithfully given on arrival, and the goods obtained before the driver would attend to his own comfort or pleasure.From personal knowledge of Cobb and Co.'s men, in fact to western mailmen generally, one might lift one's hat with respect as a tribute to honesty and faithfulness for work well done and duty honourably carried out.CHAPTER X.In 1880, our young township was becoming heard of, and was honoured with its first police magistrate in the person of Mr. Robert Johnstone. This gentleman had been a Native Police officer, and was associated with Dalrymple in his explorations on the coast north of Cardwell. Dalrymple so much appreciated Johnstone's work that he named the outlet of one of our great sugar districts—and a most beautiful stream—after him.I believe there is only one copy of Dalrymple's narrative of his expedition extant, and that is in our Parliamentary library. This narrative should be re-published as a school paper so that present-day Queenslanders might know something of the history of discovery within their own country. I doubt if many children, or even adults, know of the work done by Dalrymple, Hodgkinson, Landsboro, the Jardines, and many other Queensland explorers.At this time the Court House and lock-up were in the same building, opposite our store, in the main street. It was built originally for a boarding house.All the Winton streets were named after the stations which lay in the direction in which the streets were running. For instance, east and west—Elderslie, Vindex, Cork and Dagworth. Those facing the north were called Oondooroo, Manuka, Sesbania and Werna.Mr. Johnstone conducted the first Government land sale this year, at which Lynett and ourselves secured the allotments facing Elderslie Street on the north side, extending through to Vindex Street at the back, comprising an area of about threeacres each. We had put a high figure on our improvements, and we purchased the land at the upset price of £6/10/- per half acre. Allen had only a half-acre facing the same street, and this was purchased by the Queensland National Bank. The bank immediately opened business in a Coffee room, which Allen had erected at the back, pulling down the public house to erect banking chambers in its place. Mr. Doherty was the first manager, succeeded by Mr. Alexander, and by Mr. Arthur Spencer a year or so later.In 1879, Julius von Berger, a refugee from Schleswig Holstein, to escape Prussian rule, commenced business as a chemist. He was clever in his profession, unassuming in character, and behind his retiring disposition was a fund of kindness and simplicity which endeared him to all. He died, much regretted, a few years back at a ripe old age.The Government had now let contracts for building a court house and police barracks in Vindex Street and post office in Elderslie Street.In 1881, a contract was also let by the Government to excavate a tank of 15,000 yards, to a man named Collins. He quickly commenced operations with his plant at Magpie Gully, about half-a-mile from the town. When he had made a hole of about 12 feet deep, a very heavy thunderstorm filled the excavation with water. Previously, he had to cart his water nearly three miles, and he was now desirous of utilising the water in the excavation for his camp and horses. With difficulty he obtained permission from the Government Inspector supervising the work to make another roadway on the opposite bank. When this was allowed, he was able to continue the work until he had got to a depth of 19ft. 6in., or 18in. more than the specified depth of 18ft. He then removed the earth from the opposite side to the required depth of 18ft. When completed, he put in a voucher to be paid for the extra 18 inches, which the Supervising Inspector refused to certify, unless the wholedepth across was 18 feet in accordance with the specifications. The earth was taken from one side of the bottom of the tank and deposited on the other, to reduce the whole depth by 18 inches. "Great is Red Tape."There was a change of management on Elderslie by the appointment of Mr. Alexander Gordon. He was a splendid specimen of a man, 6ft. 7in. in height, built in proportion, and most popular. I first met him between Evesham and East Darr Stations. I inquired the distance to the latter station, which he was then managing. He replied, "Oh! a couple of canters and a smoke." It is told of him that when he was travelling on the coach between Charters Towers and Hughenden, he stayed one night at a stage which was a lignum hut, rather small in size. The driver informed the other passengers that when he called Gordon at 4 a.m., he found that he had stretched himself during the night, and that his feet were through the lignum, and so far outside that fowls were roosting on his legs.About this time many of the properties were changing hands. The Schollicks still retained Oondooroo; Elderslie was held by Sir Samuel Wilson; Dagworth, by Fairbairns, who shortly afterwards sold out to Macpherson and Co.; Bladensburg, by John Arthur Macartney; Sesbania, by Manifold, Bostock and Co.; Manuka, by Anderson and Nicol, who sold out to Baillie, Fraser and Donald; Ayrshire Downs and Cork, by McIlwraith and Smyth. The latter gentleman had camped with us when we were on the road to Winton in 1878. He was taking out a blacksmith named Morgan for Ayrshire Downs Station. Morgan afterwards started a blacksmith's shop in Winton.Mr. Smyth was afterwards elevated to the Upper House, and although of a retiring nature, was of a friendly disposition.All these investors were pouring money as if from a stream, and developing their properties.The greater proportion of the capital so spent was from Victoria, and to this State Western Queensland must be grateful for its development.Of all the then owners I have mentioned, and most of whom were resident on their properties, only one remains—John Bostock, of Sesbania. If those men did not win success they deserved it, and no one was more worthy (and there were many worthy men) than John Bostock. Schollick's spent over £100,000 on Oondooroo, and left it practically penniless. Macpherson drove from Dagworth with all his belongings on a buck-board, leaving unprofitable, and lost many thousands of pounds. Fraser, of Manuka, who came a little later, died of a broken heart. Western Queensland is greatly subject to mirages, and it is of the nature of these which deluded many men with bright hopes to spend great fortunes. These men battled on to the end, but being of fighting races, when they went down they were still fighting with never a word of despair or of defeat, and John Bostock alone remains.In this year Sir Thomas and Lady McIlwraith passed through Winton on their way to Ayrshire Downs. The whole of the inhabitants turned out to meet them at the police water-hole (six miles from Winton) after dark. An address was read to Sir Thomas by the aid of a lamp on the road. I had the pleasure of having them as guests in my cottage.This was my first meeting with McIlwraith, and I was greatly struck with his personality. He was a man, big and broad, both physically and mentally. Yet like most strong men, he was very head-strong and impatient of obstruction to or criticism of his proposals. Neither could he understand that it was not given to every man to see quickly and to act promptly, attributes he possessed in a remarkable degree.At this time he had his Trans-continental Railway in mind, and he patiently tried to get me to realise how closer settlementof the western country by smaller areas would obtain under it more than it would, under the conditions by which it was then held, that is, in very large areas. The then short experience of residents of the western country were conditions of drought, and I must admit that I thought his ideas were visionary. I have, however, lived to see the success of the grazing farm system and the great improvements effected by underground water supplies. In 1881, these were practically undreamt of. It is likely that McIlwraith could see farther into the future and dream dreams unthought of by others.The publication of McIlwraith's scheme without doubt gave the hint to Dutton, whose Land Act of 1884 was the inception of our present system of grazing farms. It was unfortunate that the most bitter opponents of McIlwraith's scheme were of the squatting class, who generally resented the cutting up of the vast areas held by them. Had the squatters of the day not defeated his proposals, the grazing-farm system would probably have come into existence some years earlier than it did, and long ago the Gulf country would have had an overland railway. That country would be maintaining a large and prosperous population instead of being, as it is now, almost deserted, and open to danger of occupation by coloured races, and a menace to the safety of Australia. McIlwraith was a far sighted statesman, having the interests of Queensland at heart, and not a politician ready and willing to secure votes.In this year, Fitzmaurice's sight became affected, and he made a trip to Sydney for expert advice. The whole business of the store and hotel was now thrown on my hands. It was found on Fitzmaurice's return, after an absence of six months, that he was almost blind. By mutual arrangement, it was decided I should buy him out, and he left Winton one of the best-liked men connected with its foundation, and as I found him, a good friend and an honest partner. The life of a hotel-keeper did not appeal to me, so I found a purchaser for thehotel at a satisfactory figure, in Mr. W. B. Steele, of Aramac, who took delivery in April, 1882.William Brown Steele was a strange character. I believe he had qualified as a chemist, but followed the different gold rushes from California to Victoria, New Zealand, and Peak Downs, thence to Aramac and Winton. His delight was to be accused of being an unscrupulous gambler—of the type described by Bret Harte. I know he was fairly successful at a game of cards, but this was due more to superior playing than to good luck or manipulation. Still, if one who thought he was Steele's equal, proposed a game, the latter would ask:—"Shall we play the game, or all we know?" If the former was agreed to, the game was strictly honest. If the latter was decided on, well, there was some wonderful playing on both sides. I never knew of Steele playing with one inexperienced, or of transgressing the rules of the game unless he was first challenged by his opponent. Then he did play all he knew, and that was something. For many years Steele ran a consultation on the Melbourne Cup which was well patronised, until the anti-gambling legislation, which drove Adams from Queensland, suppressed it, but did not stamp out gambling.I arranged a partnership with Mr. W. M. Campbell, traveller for Stewart and Hemmant, of Brisbane. He and his wife and family were settled in Fitzmaurice's house by the end of this year.The Bank of New South Wales had also opened a branch in a small building on the south side of Elderslie Street. Mr. Barnier was the first manager, succeeded afterwards by Mr. Alf. Thompson.Major Lewis, a veteran of the Indian Mutiny and Papal war, and a fine old Irish gentleman, arrived to succeed Mr. Johnstone as police magistrate. One of the first cases brought before him was a claim for the return of money, under thefollowing circumstances:—I had received a letter from a man on Hamilton Downs Station, stating he was coming in with the station dray for a load of rations, and was anxious to get married. He asked me to look for an eligible female who was willing to yoke up with him, and enclosed his photograph. Treating the matter as a joke, I read the letter to the girls employed at the hotel. The laundress, a big strapping woman, said she was willing to negotiate with him. On the man's arrival I took him round and introduced him. After a couple of days' courtship a date was fixed for the marriage. As an earnest of his good faith, the man gave the woman a cheque for £26 to buy her wedding trousseau. When the day arrived she refused to carry out the promise of marriage. The man came to me for advice, stating that she would not have him, neither would she return any of the money advanced.I wrote Mr. Conran, the owner of Hamilton Downs Station, explaining the cause of the man's delay, and as the station was short of rations, Conran came in. He and I interviewed the woman, pointing out her dishonesty, but we were told to mind our own business. Mr. Conran then went to consult the P.M. The sergeant of police told Conran the P.M. was engaged, and asked could he do anything for him. Mr. Conran said he had come up about a girl appropriating a sum of money given as a condition of marriage. The sergeant said, "An' shure, an' won't she have yez now." Conran enjoyed the joke of being taken as the rejected lover.Major Lewis and the police eventually recovered a portion of the money, and the man returned sadder but much wiser, and I renounced for the future any desire to act as matrimonial agent.About October, 1882, we received a wire from Hughenden, advising that some teams which were carrying our loading had been caught in a flooded creek, and the goods damaged. I immediately started for Wongalee Creek, about 25 miles theother side of Hughenden, or 170 miles from Winton. I found on my arrival the ground in the vicinity covered with drapery, boots, ironmongery, besides nearly empty salt bags, etc., etc., put out to dry. It appeared these teams had crossed the creek and camped on the flat below the bank. A heavy thunderstorm had fallen up the creek during the night and brought the water down a banker, submerging the waggons, and destroying about £1,000 worth of goods. We had no redress against the carrier, the accident, or incident, being considered an act of Providence. The merchants assisted us by renewing our bills for four months longer.In the same year, we ordered a large consignment of goods from Townsville. It was a dry year, and the teams carrying them were stuck at Hughenden.In those days the Government had not made the water tanks on the road between Hughenden and Winton, and on the high, open downs country permanent natural water was not obtainable only at long distances. Hearing of the teams being stuck up, we immediately wired a duplicate order to Rockhampton. The latter goods were despatched by rail to Bogantungan (the then terminus of the central line), and loaded on teams. The drought conditions, although not so pronounced as in the Hughenden district, also existed in the Central. These teams were also blocked.In about six months after the first order was given, the whole 14 teams with the Rockhampton and Townsville goods arrived on the same day at Winton, and I was called upon to pay £2,000 cash down for carriage alone; while our summer goods arrived in the middle of winter.Fortunately we were able to meet our liabilities.In 1882, we had a visit—and the first—from a clergyman of any denomination.He asked me if there was a place in which he could hold service on Sunday. I told him that the only place was the billiard-room at the hotel. I prepared it for the ceremony by draping a blue blanket over the table, and I put a red one opposite over the cue rack, thinking it might help him to put a little fire into his discourse. When all was ready, I obtained the bullock bell from the kitchen. The Chinaman cook, who was a sporting character, said:—"Wha for, nother raffle, all ri, put me down one pund." He refused, however, to give the money when he learnt it was for a church.When the clergyman was leaving, we decided to present him with a purse of sovereigns in Campbell's house, and I was deputed to hand it to him.In making a short cut to the house I had to pass the hotel stables, into which a squatter in the orthodox breeches, boots and spurs, was riding. He called out:—"I say, Corfield, what are you wearing a coat for?" I replied, "There's a function on; I'm going to present these sovereigns to a parson." He asked, "Any champagne?" I replied, "Whips of it." He then said, "Hold on, till I put my horse in the yard, and I'll come with you." On reaching the house, I introduced him to the parson prior to the presentation, and we had some champagne. With a few words I presented the purse of sovereigns, when we naturally concluded we would be thanked, but instead the parson said, "Let us pray." We all then knelt to our chairs. Suddenly, as if from one in great pain, I heard the word "Ker-ist." Thinking the parson had been bitten by a snake or something, I looked round, but he appeared quite at ease. I then saw over in the corner the young squatter with blood oozing out of his pants. He had sat upon his long-necked spurs. The parson went on with the prayer, but those present were more occupied suppressing their laughter than in listening to the parson's prayers.CHAPTER XI.In 1883, Judge Miller, with the present Mr. Justice Real as Crown Prosecutor, opened the first District Court in Winton. Fred Riley and myself had been put on the "Commission of the Peace," and appeared before the Judge to be sworn in. We then decided that we should without delay show that we were magistrates, and prepared to carry out our duties. We found a good, hard-drinking man, and offered him ten shillings to spend in drink. He gladly accepted the offer, and shortly afterwards we were asked by the police to sit on a case of drunkenness and disorderly conduct. Our man had kept to his agreement, and was brought before us. We severely reprimanded him for his conduct and discharged him. Judge Miller hearing of it, frequently recalled the joke to my memory, and we had many a good laugh over it.Early in this year, Mr. Griffith (afterwards Sir Samuel) and Mr. Dickson (afterwards Sir James) made a tour of the north-west, and travelled by coach from Hughenden to Winton. The party was detained a night at Stack's public house, about midway between the two towns, whilst the mailman rode over to Sesbania with the mail. Mr. Griffith here made the acquaintance of Schofield, who was managing a store near Stack's for Charlie Rowe. Stack's house was not an inviting place, so the two Ministers spent the evening in Schofield's quarters. The latter was shortly afterwards appointed as Government agent on board the "Hopeful." The history of this vessel is well-known in the Law Courts of Queensland. Messrs. Griffith and Dickson were treated to a wine party in Winton. There was but little enthusiasm shown at the meeting, the majority of those present being strong McIlwraithians.Mr. Fraser, the managing partner of Messrs. Baillie, Fraser and Donald, of Manuka Station, had been in the army, and had served through the Indian Mutiny. He was highly respected by all, but was not popular excepting among those with whom he was intimate. They knew him to be very hospitable and kind, and a thorough gentleman. He came of a high Scottish family, and was proud that one of his ancestral relations had his head cut off for loyalty to his King. I remember being a silent listener to the relation of some happenings which at one time or other occurred in Ireland. The postmaster was a man who, rather young in years, appeared to have had some experiences. He was telling Fraser of the ill-feeling which was existent between two British regiments in a town somewhere in Ireland, while he was there. One was the 65th, an English, and the other the 89th, an Irish regiment. It seems that the latter had been formed from the North Cork militia, which, I understand, bore an unenviable reputation from their conduct during the rebellion in 1798. The townspeople had a long memory of this, and in the disturbance amongst the soldiers, supported the English regiment against their own countrymen. Fraser listened to it all, and then said, "By jove, wasn't it bitter; I was captain of a company of the 89th, and some of my men were badly knocked about." I thought it made the world very small to hear such incidents being related in the far west of Queensland.Now that we had two banks, four hotels, a chemist, saddler, besides other branches of industry, we felt that we were being drawn perilously within the influences of civilisation and its drawbacks.
North Gregory Hotel. Robt. Fitzmaurice, Licensee. 1879.
North Gregory Hotel. Robt. Fitzmaurice, Licensee. 1879.
On reaching Cooktown I again loaded my three teams for Maytown, returning to Palmerville empty, where I sold one of my teams. On the trip my rheumatism became so bad that I determined to take a trip to Sydney, leaving my teams to camp during the wet season now commencing, in charge of one driver and the black boy.
I left Cooktown in the E. and A. Company's s.s. "Singapore" in December, 1875. On board I made the acquaintance of Captain Pennefather, lately Comptroller of Prisons, who, at that time, had a fleet of boats at Thursday Island, engaged in pearl fishing. On arrival at Townsville, John Dean (late M.L.C.), came aboard, and we renewed an acquaintance formed some years before when he was butchering at Townsville, and where I had purchased steers from him.
It was my first trip on the coast, and with fine weather, I was delighted with the beautiful scenery. Owing to the early rains the numerous islands were clad in their richest verdure, especially did the Whitsunday Passage appeal to me. Most of the islands in the passage were inhabited by aboriginals, who made a practice of coming out in their canoes to the steamers, picking up food, etc., thrown to them from the ship. One of our crew threw out a loaf of bread, which was attached to a piece of rope. A blackfellow and his gin in a canoe close by the ship caught the loaf, but the moving of our boat tightened the line, which pulled him out, his canoe being capsized, and he and his gin were struggling in the water. However, as they were good swimmers, they soon righted their canoe with the loss only of the loaf of bread. During thetrip lunch was spread daily under the awning on the top deck. This was much more pleasant than down in the stuffy cabin. After leaving Moreton Bay the sea became rough. A water spout formed not far from the ship, and it appeared large enough to swamp us had we been under it. The wind made it hard to light matches for a smoke, so Captain Pennefather introduced his flint and steel, and lit a stick composed of dry buffalo manure; this we found very useful with which to light our pipes.
We arrived at Sydney on a Friday night early in January, 1876. John Dean required a rig out, and being a man of 21 stone weight could not buy a ready-made shirt, so had to be measured. We stayed at the Occidental Hotel, in Wynyard Square, and hearing that "Our Boys" was being played at the Theatre Royal, took seats in the orchestra stalls, which consisted of wooden spring seats. We arrived when all was quiet and the play in progress. As John sat down every screw came out of the seat, and he plumped on the floor to the amusement of the audience. The fun was greater when he was seen slowly, but successfully, to lower himself into another seat.
After the performance, thinking we had sufficient bump of locality to find our hotel without inquiry, we walked, and continued walking until we found ourselves down at the wharves, which, we had been told, was an undesirable quarter at any time, but especially late at night. From a passer-by, we learnt that the hotel was a long distance off. After receiving instructions, we reached our lodging just as the bar was being closed at midnight. Dean suggested a drink, which we ordered at a side window, and asked the barmaid to bring the liquor into an adjoining room. A man calling himself Count Bismarck, and who was greatly excited about something, was in the bar. He said to Dean, "Aren't you going to shout for me." Dean replied, "No," at which the Count remarked, "Oh, never mind, I have plenty of money." Dean replied, "You must be a mean blooming beggar, then, to ask me to shout." Dean and I sat at a small table discussing the play, when a revolver shot rang out and something seemed to strike us. We immediately rushed for a green baize door, but saw no one. On returningto the room, the barmaid, who was quite pale, asked "Are you dead?" I answered, "No." At the moment I did not realise the absurdity of the question, or that the answer was unnecessary.
We failed to find the German, who had disappeared. Mr. Yeo, the landlord, ran in to inquire what the trouble was. When we returned to the room I found a bullet under the chair I was sitting on. It had struck the ceiling, and brought down the plaster. Later, in Melbourne, John Dean heard that Count Bismarck had been sentenced to two years' imprisonment for shooting a man.
After a very pleasant time in Sydney, I found the rheumatism had left me, so I deemed it desirable to return north, and to work. On my arrival in Townsville I found the wet season was not yet over. Many friends prevailed upon me to stay back in Townsville, where I put in a most enjoyable fortnight with some of my old pals.
At the end of the fortnight, the s.s. "Banshee," a boat of about 100 tons, was advertised to sail for Cooktown,viathe Hinchinbrook Channel. I booked my passage by her, and was informed she would sail at 5 a.m. on a certain day.
I was staying at the Criterion Hotel, on the beach, where the evening previous to my intended departure, I was given a send-off, which lasted into well-advanced morning. Owing to this I missed the boat.
A few hours afterwards it was blowing a cyclone. Spray came over the hotel. It was thought the "Banshee" could not live through the blow, and we were not surprised when we learnt very quickly that she was wrecked about 3 p.m. the same afternoon. It was ascertained later that, finding her engines were not powerful enough to make headway against the wind, the captain tried to weather a rocky point on Hinchinbrook Island, so that he might beach her in a sandybay beyond. She failed to get around the point, and lifted by a wave over the rocks, became fixed in a cleft, where she soon bumped a hole in her hull. Such of her crew and passengers who were not lucky enough to be thrown far inland were drowned, or crushed to death. One passenger, named Burstall, crawled out on a boom, from which the waves swept him high on to the rocks. A following wave put him out of danger, but left him considerably bruised. Out of thirty-seven on board, sixteen were saved, one a stowaway, who, it was said, walked out of the hole made in the ship's hull by the rocks.
A few days afterwards I returned to Cooktown by the s.s. "Singapore," and saw what was left of the "Banshee" in the distance. In February, 1877, the "Singapore" ran ashore on L. Island, off Port Mackay, and became a total wreck.
I had left my riding horses in Cooktown, and a day or so after my arrival, I went on to Palmerville to send my teams down to the Port. Having done this, and started them two days ahead, Mrs. Jackson, whom I have mentioned as having met some years previously in the Peak Downs district, asked me to take 200 ounces of gold down to the bank. I agreed to do so, carrying it in my valise on the saddle. I was very glad when I reached the waggons to get rid of the gold, as it proved a very dead weight on my legs.
During this wet season (1876), the Government had sent a boat to the Laura River to carry travellers across. These were very few. The boatman was very much alone, and I found that the blacks had taken the opportunity of eating him. While driving the leading team up the bank, I saw numbers of blacks' tracks all around the boat. We drew up a short distance from the bank, and after unyoking, I made my customary visit to water, with towel and bucket, which latter was filled for the cook. The water in the river was running in a channel on the opposite side, and when I was close to it, I heard a chuckle such as the blacks make. Looking towards the crossing Isaw a mob of blacks bathing, and one running towards the bank. Without a second look, I dropped the bucket, and sprinting across the sand and up the bank to the waggons, I called out, "Get the rifles ready! The blacks are at the crossing." After waiting some little time we saw Sub-Inspector Townsend and his black troopers riding towards us. He stayed for dinner, and from mutual explanations I learnt it was his troopers' tracks I had seen. They were returning from an inspection down the river, and had camped at the crossing over night. They decided to have a bogey before dinner, and the boy I saw running, went to get his uniform cap to denote a trooper. Had I taken a second look, I should have seen Mr. Townsend with them. He laughingly described me racing, hidden with sand which my feet were scooping up, in my haste to get the firearms.
Up to now, carrying had been so remunerative that one would have seen one-time station managers, ex-inspectors of police, old naval men, and all sorts and conditions of other men wielding the bullock-whip and making good earnings, but as competition became keener, carriage fell much lower and more difficult to obtain. The goldfield was falling off, and more in the hands of the Chinese. I had a very hard time to keep my three teams in employment during the year.
In December, 1877, I again suffered severely from malaria, and having previously sold one of my teams, I decided to make another trip to Sydney, leaving the driver to bring down the two teams to the Laura, and camp there until my return. The wet season was setting in, consequently we could not procure any loading. I had an uneventful trip down to Sydney, and again met with John Dean at Mona House, in Wynyard Square.
I returned to Queensland about the beginning of March, 1878, the malaria having left me.
Passing through Townsville, I met Fitzmaurice, who told me that carrying had fallen away between Cooktown and thePalmer, and that he had left that district. He suggested that I should join with him in carrying to the western country, and added that he had been informed by a squatter that there was a good opening for a store at the Conn Waterhole, on the Diamantina River. This is about forty miles down the Western River, from where Winton now is.
The suggestion appealed to me, and it was agreed that I should go on to Cooktown, start my two teams overland to Townsville, then return and drive one of his three teams on our western trip without loss of time.
On my arrival in Cooktown, I went to the Laura, where the teams were still camped. Everything was in order, and my bullocks fat. I started them on their long trip overland to Townsville, where Fitzmaurice and I had purchased sixteen tons of assorted merchandise from Clifton and Aplin. Arriving in Townsville in a few days by steamer, we loaded up for the far and, to most Queenslanders, what was then unknown country.
Both Fitzmaurice and myself were well known to the firm through our carrying for them from the Port to the several diggings. They generously gave us the goods without our paying any cash, and without giving even the scratch of a pen. When I returned to Townsville at the end of 1879 to purchase more supplies, I signed a promissory note for the cost of all the goods at four months. Practically, Messrs. Clifton and Aplin generously gave us the sixteen tons of goods on a credit which extended over twelve months, and which were only paid for when the note matured.
It was my fortune to have now met in Townsville a man who was then bearing a high reputation in North Queensland, but who was soon to become famous farther afield. By some reason I cannot even now understand, the diggers very seldom put their confidence or trust in the wrong man, and in John Murtagh Macrossan, they found their idol. Mentally big, physically small, his eloquence, ability and courage broughthim, on their behalf, into conflict with strong and powerful influences.
I met him later in the Parliament of 1888. In this were many able men, but none, not even the great chiefs McIlwraith and Griffith, could overshadow Macrossan.
In his private life, which was most exemplary, I found Macrossan—although it was said he was otherwise—to be most tolerant to all who might differ from him in social and religious matters. Like most of his countrymen, he was, however, in politics, a strong, bitter partisan. Once a question became political, if one did not agree with Macrossan, he made an enemy. Between him and McIlwraith a close, personal friendship existed for years, but towards the end of Macrossan's life they became estranged. This was due to the strong, independent stand Macrossan took on a political matter which gave McIlwraith offence.
In a conversation I had with McIlwraith just prior to his leaving Queensland, as it turned out to be, for ever, he spoke most feelingly of Macrossan's memory and their earlier friendship.
Although Macrossan had many chances of enriching himself, he died, in 1891, as he had lived, a man, poor in the world's goods, but rich in the esteem and respect of all, not excepting those who very widely, and strongly differed with him on political, national, or religious matters.
Had he lived in latter years, I doubt if he would have become a popular leader of what is generally designated as "The People."
He was not an opportunist, and he could not submit his independence of mind, character, or principles to any person or junta.
His breach with Sir Thomas McIlwraith proved this.
If an impartial biography of John Macrossan should ever be written, it will prove interesting and instructive reading.
We started the teams from Townsville about the end of July, 1878, and passed a gang engaged on construction of the railway line to Charters Towers at Double Barrel Creek, now known as Toonpan, 17 miles from Townsville.
Our destination was Collingwood, more widely known as the Conn Waterhole, where the Government Surveyor had laid out a township situated about 40 miles west of Winton.
Having heard that the business men of Charters Towers were offering a reward of £50 to any carrier who would open a more direct road to the western country, and that a road party had left to mark the line, we decided to try and win it. On our arrival at the Towers, we interviewed the merchants, who disclaimed any knowledge of a reward having been offered for opening the road. We decided to follow the road party, who had marked a line to junction with the old Flinders road. On the journey I found a tree on which I had cut my initials when travelling to the Gulf with sheep, some twelve years before. Owing to double banking the teams through the heavy sand bordering "Billy Webb's Lake," we had to camp without water that night. There was green picking on the water-less lake for the bullocks, but they had to be watched. The road party had left an empty cask where they had camped on the lake, and one of the bullocks, a poly, smelling water in the bottom of the cask, forced his head into it. Onliftinghis head, the cask came with it. The bullock, being unable to see, made for his mates with their bells on, and then a general stampede of the bullocks took place in all directions. Finally, a bell bullock made for the timber, the poly followed him, andrunning against a tree, smashed the cask. Thus ended an amusing incident, with no damage done except to the cask.
The road party left the old road and made a ploughed furrow across the downs to Rockwood Creek, which we followed, and camped the night there.
Fitzmaurice, whilst riding after the bullocks, met Mr. Bergin, the man in charge of the party, who told Fitzmaurice that he was instructed to mark a direct line to Collingwood, on the Western River, and that he intended going up Thornhill Creek, cross the divide between the Landsborough and Diamantina Rivers, and then run down Jessamine and Mill's Creeks to the Western River, and thence to Collingwood.
We took the road up Rockwood Creek to its head, and crossed the same divide as the road party were going, only farther north, striking the head of Manuka Creek, which we ran down to its junction with Mill's Creek. This we followed to the present site of Winton, which we reached at the end of October. The new road opened by the road party had so many patches of heavy sand on it, and long stages for water, that it was never used by carriers, and some years later Ramsay Bros. obtained permission from the Government to close that portion of it running down Jessamine Creek, on the Oondooroo run.
A few years later the Government made tanks on the road between Hughenden and Winton, after which all traffic from Townsville to Winton and the west generally, came that way.
Mr. Tom Lynett, whom I had previously known on the Palmer, and who was backed by Burns, Philp and Co. to start a store, had left Townsville for the same destination as ourselves, if the locality was found to be suitable.
He did not overtake his teams until they reached the Twelve-mile Hole, on the Elderslie road, where he stopped them while he rode on to Collingwood, the newly-surveyed township, to inspect.
He concluded the country was subject to floods, so he turned his teams back, and decided to build on the spot on which we found him camped when we arrived with our teams.
We also met a man named Bob Allen, who had been located in the neighbourhood for two years or more. Allen was an ex-sergeant of police, who left Aramac about 1875 to start a store and public house on what is known as the Pelican Hole, one mile west of the site of Winton. Very heavy rains fell in 1876, and we were told he was compelled by floods to remain two days on the wall-plate of his building.
When the water allowed him, he shifted what was left of his hotel and store, and re-erected them on the present site of the Queensland National Bank, Winton.
Allen, Lynett, Fitzmaurice and I discussed the removal of the building, and forming the town back on higher ground.
We offered to do the work without cost, but Allen and Lynett decided to remain where they were. We had to accept the position, and agreed to build in line with the others.
This formed the base upon which Mr. Surveyor Jopp laid out the township afterwards.
After putting up a skeleton shed covered by tarpaulins, I obtained from Ayrshire Downs two loads of wool for our teams, returning to Townsville. In the meantime, Fitzmaurice had disposed of £600 worth of goods. I was occupied a whole day pasting the pieces of the torn and damaged cheques. I then started for the nearest bank, which was at Aramac, 250 miles away.
A drought being on, I had many difficulties in getting through.
There were only 5,000 sheep on Vindex, and these were camped on a water-hole which had been filled by a stray thunderstorm. The remainder of the sheep from the run were travelling for grass and water on the coast near Townsville.As a compliment, I was allowed to replenish my water-bag, and to obtain one drink for each of my two horses.
My next camp was off the road on East Darr Station, where a mob of kanakas were cutting down scrub for fencing.
When I reached Muttaburra, I found the hotel to be a grass hut. It proved to be a very rowdy place, so I decided to camp on the ridge outside the town without food, and have my breakfast when passing through in the morning.
I carried £600 worth of cheques in my trousers pocket. This I thought was the safest place.
I was very pleased when at last I reached Aramac, after bank hours, and handed the money to Mr. Fulton, the manager of the Queensland National Bank, and the next morning found only £30 of them dishonoured.
Immediately on my return to Winton, I started for Townsville to load my two teams with timber and iron to build an hotel. I travelled with Fitzmaurice's teams to assist them over a dry stage to Rockwood.
We camped close to Oondooroo Station and when bringing the bullocks in to be yoked in the morning, one of them jumped and tossed his head in the air, and I then saw a tiger snake disappear in a hole near by. The bullocks were yoked up, and after going a short distance the off-side poler of one of the teams dropped dead. On examination, we found two small punctures in the nose. It was the bullock I had seen jump and throw up its head.
When we reached Manuka Station there was only one water-hole near the road. The owner of the station was preserving this for his stock. The distance to the next water was 20 miles, so it was absolutely necessary we should obtain a drink for the bullocks before we tackled the long stage.
I interviewed Mr. Anderson, the owner, and having explained our position, asked to be allowed a drink for the bullocks. He flatly declined to allow this.
After about an hour's pleading, he gave his consent subject to the proviso that the bullocks should be watered in batches of ten at a time, and so preserve the hole from being puddled. We watered the stock in the evening, and by travelling all night, managed to reach Rockwood without mishap. Here I was told I would get water for myself and horses 25 miles further on.
The next water after that would be 55 miles to Hughenden, on the Flinders River.
I left the teams to make a long road round Tower Hill, which was a good-watered route. When I reached the 25-mile, where I was told I would get water, I found the ground just glassy, the water having evaporated in the December sun.
Knowing the distance I would have to go without water, I decided to hobble the horses out on dry grass, and dodged the sun round a tree until the afternoon, when I saddled up. In about ten miles I passed Cameron Downs Station, which was deserted. I reached the water about eight the following morning, very thankful to have come through the 80 miles safely. It had been a glorious moonlight, by which I could see the tracks of numerous snakes on the road. I felt that if my horses were bitten it would mean a perish for me.
I remained at the water until about 5 p.m., when I rode into Hughenden township, which was formed on the spot where I had camped with the sheep some twelve years before. I put up at Magnay's hotel, and was glad to have a square meal for dinner.
In the morning I resumed my journey, and having previously travelled the track frequently, went miles off it to obtain better feed for the horses to camp.
I overtook my own teams between Dalrymple and Townsville, and drove one of them to the camp outside the latter town.
After engaging another driver, the timber, iron, a billiard table and some stores were duly loaded and despatched. I remained to sign the four months' promissory notes for these and the goods previously referred to, and to give the teams time to negotiate the 30 miles to Thornton's Gap, as the crossing of the coast range was called at this place. At the foot of the Gap I joined them, and assisted in getting them to the top. I left the teams here and rode on to Winton.
On my arrival, I found that Fitzmaurice had sold out of most of the supplies except the grog, which he was keeping for the hotel. He then started on horseback for Townsville to give delivery of the wool, and load up his three teams with stores, etc.; also more timber and iron to build the store. He would also bring his wife and child with him.
At this time Winton was the rendezvous of some of the worst characters of the west; fights were frequent on the then unformed streets.
The rowdies threatened to take the grog in the store, and as there were no police nearer than Aramac, I deemed it best to dispose of all the liquor to Allen, the local publican, who jumped at the chance to obtain a supply.
A few residents formed themselves into a vigilance committee.
The late Mr. J. A. Macartney passed through to visit his property, Bladensburg Station, and seeing how things were, wrote to the Home Secretary asking for police protection.
My teams had now arrived with the building material, and carpenters were put on to erect the hotel. This was not finished until the end of 1879, when it was opened under the name of North Gregory Hotel.
Great difficulty was experienced with the floors, there being no timber for them. We puddled the mud and got the black gins to tramp it down, adding a picaninny to their backs to increase their weight.
About July of this year, Fitzmaurice returned from Townsville with three horses and a light dray on which he had brought his wife and little girl.
Taking a plan of the hotel with me, I started for Aramac to interview Mr. Sword, the P.M. (afterwards member of the Land Court), to obtain a provisional license. This he refused to grant until the building was erected.
When I returned Winton was entirely out of liquor, and Allen did a great business in selling bottles of painkiller as a substitute. It was laughable to see men take a bottle out of their pocket, saying, "Have a nip, mate, it's only five shillings a bottle?"
About March, 1880, the Western River was in high flood, and ran miles wide.
Sub-Inspector Kaye, of the native police, and Mr. John Haines, the manager of Elderslie Station, were in town, and wished to get to the station 40 miles down the river.
We put our carpenter on to make a boat, which carried them and the troopers safely to their destination.
Shortly afterwards Sub-Inspector Fred Murray came out from Blackall, bringing with him Sergeant Feltham, who formed the police station in a small building which I rented to them.
There was only a log to which offenders were chained. One day Feltham went down to the store, leaving a prisoner chained up. Shortly afterwards he was surprised when he saw his prisoner (who was a very powerful man) marching into the public house carrying the log on his shoulder, and call for drinks. It took three men to get him back to the lock-up.
Fitzmaurice's teams arriving, we were enabled to complete the store building, stock it, and the hotel, and resume business, which had been suspended owing to running out of goods, etc. My teams had gone down empty, and were now on their way up with more loading.
The original name for the town—now known as Winton—was Pelican Water-holes. Bob Allen, the first resident, whom I have mentioned, acted as post-master. The mail service was a fortnightly one, going west to Wokingham Creek, thenceviaSesbania to Hughenden. There was no date stamp supplied to the office, but by writing "Pelican Water-holes" and the date across the stamps, the post mark was made, and the stamps cancelled. This was found to be very slow and unsatisfactory.
Allen was asked to propose a name, and he suggested that the P.O. should be called "Winton." This is the name of a suburb of Bournemouth, Hampshire, England, and Allen's native place.
We had kept one of Fitzmaurice's teams to haul in firewood, and posts to fence a paddock on Vindex run, the lessees, Messrs. Scott and Gordon, having given us permission to do so.
The manager of Elderslie also gave us permission to fence in a piece of ground at the Pelican Waterhole for a vegetable garden.
The team obtained employment at Bladensburg, where Mr. Macartney was building a stockyard. As I felt clerical work to be hard on me, I would take an occasional trip with the bullocks to relieve the drudgery.
During this year the member for Gregory, Mr. Thomas McWhannell, passed through Winton, and opportunity was taken to bring under his notice the necessity for a water supply for the town. The disabilities we suffered under were pointed out. We had to procure water from a hole in Mistake Creek, two and a-half miles away, the water of which was frequentlypolluted by numbers of dead cattle. By his efforts a sum was passed by Parliament for water conservation.
Western River In Flood. Looking South From Railway Station.
Western River In Flood. Looking South From Railway Station.
The Oondooroo bullock team had come in for supplies, but the driver started drinking, and was unable to take the team home.
Not having forgotten my old avocation, I took his place, and thereby began a close friendship with the Schollick Brothers, who were completely out of rations when I arrived.
During this year the town and district were invaded by a plague of rats, travelling from north-east to south-west in hundreds of thousands.
The vermin would eat the buttons off one's coat when camping out. Cats and dogs were surfeited from killing them. I told the Chinaman cook of the hotel that I would give him a pound of tobacco if he caught a hundred rats. That night, as I was sleeping on a stretcher at the back of the store, I was several times awakened by what seemed to be a stamping of feet. In the morning I found that the Chinaman had obtained an ironbark wooden shutter, and rigged up a figure four trap with bait underneath, and by this means had obtained a wheelbarrow full of dead rats.
These rats had bushy tails, and apparently lived on the roots of grass. These devastated the country through which they passed. It was unknown whence they came from or whither they went.
The rats were followed by a plague of dead cats in the water-holes. The rats had gone and the cats having had plenty, did not follow, but died in the water-holes.
Our team driver was James Gordon, one of two brothers who owned the selection which later became famous as Mount Morgan. We sold this team to Warenda Station, and James Gordon went with it.
During this year (1879), Vindex Station was purchased from Scott and Gordon by Chirnside, Riley and Co., of Victoria, who, like other investors, spent money lavishly to develop the country.
The manager was Mr. J. B. Riley. This gentleman died in 1889, but is still affectionately remembered throughout the district.
To those who knew him, his death was felt as that of a staunch personal friend. By none was his death more regretted than by those who worked for him, either as permanent or casual employees, and by whom a monument to his memory has been erected on Vindex.
Outside the property he controlled, J. B. had three personal hobbies, a good horse, the Winton Divisional Board, and the local Hospital. Of these three hobbies his principal one was the hospital and its sick occupants. On his death it was felt that the most appropriate monument to him would be a new ward for eye complaints to be added to the hospital.
This was generously subscribed to by all classes, and the J. B. Riley ward of the institution served to remind us of one who, by his charity, goodness and generosity, was a good man, but whose shyness did not allow of this being known. His brother, Mr. F. W. Riley, and Mr. R. L. Chirnside, who were closely associated with him, carried on his good work, and became as deservedly popular.
Throughout this year (1880) the town and district had made progress, and new people were coming in.
We were now doing a good business in both store and hotel, consequently we had to depend on drivers for our teams without supervision.
It was decided that I should follow the teams to Townsville to in some way dispose of them, and also to bring up a man to assist Fitzmaurice in the hotel.
When I reached Dalrymple I learnt that one of Fitzmaurice's teams had been swept over the rocks while crossing the Burdekin River, and that eight of the bullocks were drowned. It appeared that the river, though not a-swim, was running strong at the crossing.
The first team crossed safely, but on the other reaching the strong water, the driver of the team rode around to the off-side to keep the bullocks up the stream. His efforts were unavailing. With his horse he was carried into deep water, from which they were rescued in an exhausted condition. Not so with the team.
The bullocks were all drowned, and the waggon wrecked on the rocks. Fortunately, being empty, only eight bullocks were yoked to the waggon, but they were the pick of the team. This accident strengthened our desire to dispose of the teams.
I sold Fitzmaurice's remaining team at Townsville at a satisfactory figure, and my own two teams were sold on their arrival to one of the drivers on terms.
The agreement was that we should provide him with loading from Townsville to Winton at the rate of £30 per ton, until he had paid the purchase money of it. This he did in a few trips.
These teams could not carry the whole of the goods I had purchased, so I left an order with Clifton and Aplin to forward the remainder by carriers as soon as they could despatch them. I engaged a suitable man to assist Fitzmaurice, and we left with saddle and pack horses for Winton, taking the shorter roadviaCharters Towers.
This we left at Rockwood, to make a still shorter route across the Downs from Culloden Station, over which the road party had ploughed a furrow across to cut the head of Jessamine Creek, at the back of Oondooroo Station.
In crossing the divide between the Landsborough and Diamantina waters, we rode over virgin country which was infested with bush rats, and numbers of tiger snakes gorged after eating them.
In one place, which was 25 miles from water, the snakes were so numerous that we had a difficulty in getting our pack horses safely through them. Yet it is argued that snakes are never very far from water.
In 1880, Cobb and Co. bought up a number of mail services throughout Western Queensland, and the general regularity and convenience of their coaches served to open up the country. Cobb and Co. carried out its contracts under great difficulty in times of flood, but more frequently of droughts, and their record is one of which the company and its servants might well be proud. Their coaches are now practically of the past, but the time was when Cobb and Co.'s name was a synonym for efficiency and, when humanly possible, for punctuality. There were many less enjoyable ways of realising life than by, say, to be leaving Barcaldine for Aramac in the dark of an early morning on the box seat of a coach behind a spanking team of greys, driven by a master hand with the whip and ribbons. And then if one stayed the night at a stage, where two or more drivers met, and exchanged experiences of the trip, their horses, but more than all of their passengers, what an interesting time might be passed.
It was remarkable how observant of passengers the drivers would be, while the passenger all the time laboured under the impression that the driver's time was taken up with his horses.
The idiosyncracies of passengers would be discussed by drivers, and it more than once happened I have heard of the peculiarities of certain passengers at places hundreds of miles from where they came under observation.
Nearing Charleville, on a road I had not travelled before, I had a trip I had made from Normanton towards Croydon related to me by a driver whom I had never seen until then.
I learnt he was told the story by the driver of the Blackall coach, who had heard it in Barcaldine from Tommy Thompson, who was told it in Winton by Tommy Cahill, who received it at Hughenden from Martin Warneminde.
I was quite satisfied and did not inquire further.
Judging by the way they fulfilled the requests at different mail stages, these men must have been gifted with wonderful memories. At one stage a driver might be asked to call at Smith's, the storekeeper, and "tell him to give you a couple of pounds of tea and some potatoes for me;" at another to get a pair of boots, size three, for the missus; at Jones', to get a bottle of eye lotion, and so on. These orders would be faithfully given on arrival, and the goods obtained before the driver would attend to his own comfort or pleasure.
From personal knowledge of Cobb and Co.'s men, in fact to western mailmen generally, one might lift one's hat with respect as a tribute to honesty and faithfulness for work well done and duty honourably carried out.
In 1880, our young township was becoming heard of, and was honoured with its first police magistrate in the person of Mr. Robert Johnstone. This gentleman had been a Native Police officer, and was associated with Dalrymple in his explorations on the coast north of Cardwell. Dalrymple so much appreciated Johnstone's work that he named the outlet of one of our great sugar districts—and a most beautiful stream—after him.
I believe there is only one copy of Dalrymple's narrative of his expedition extant, and that is in our Parliamentary library. This narrative should be re-published as a school paper so that present-day Queenslanders might know something of the history of discovery within their own country. I doubt if many children, or even adults, know of the work done by Dalrymple, Hodgkinson, Landsboro, the Jardines, and many other Queensland explorers.
At this time the Court House and lock-up were in the same building, opposite our store, in the main street. It was built originally for a boarding house.
All the Winton streets were named after the stations which lay in the direction in which the streets were running. For instance, east and west—Elderslie, Vindex, Cork and Dagworth. Those facing the north were called Oondooroo, Manuka, Sesbania and Werna.
Mr. Johnstone conducted the first Government land sale this year, at which Lynett and ourselves secured the allotments facing Elderslie Street on the north side, extending through to Vindex Street at the back, comprising an area of about threeacres each. We had put a high figure on our improvements, and we purchased the land at the upset price of £6/10/- per half acre. Allen had only a half-acre facing the same street, and this was purchased by the Queensland National Bank. The bank immediately opened business in a Coffee room, which Allen had erected at the back, pulling down the public house to erect banking chambers in its place. Mr. Doherty was the first manager, succeeded by Mr. Alexander, and by Mr. Arthur Spencer a year or so later.
In 1879, Julius von Berger, a refugee from Schleswig Holstein, to escape Prussian rule, commenced business as a chemist. He was clever in his profession, unassuming in character, and behind his retiring disposition was a fund of kindness and simplicity which endeared him to all. He died, much regretted, a few years back at a ripe old age.
The Government had now let contracts for building a court house and police barracks in Vindex Street and post office in Elderslie Street.
In 1881, a contract was also let by the Government to excavate a tank of 15,000 yards, to a man named Collins. He quickly commenced operations with his plant at Magpie Gully, about half-a-mile from the town. When he had made a hole of about 12 feet deep, a very heavy thunderstorm filled the excavation with water. Previously, he had to cart his water nearly three miles, and he was now desirous of utilising the water in the excavation for his camp and horses. With difficulty he obtained permission from the Government Inspector supervising the work to make another roadway on the opposite bank. When this was allowed, he was able to continue the work until he had got to a depth of 19ft. 6in., or 18in. more than the specified depth of 18ft. He then removed the earth from the opposite side to the required depth of 18ft. When completed, he put in a voucher to be paid for the extra 18 inches, which the Supervising Inspector refused to certify, unless the wholedepth across was 18 feet in accordance with the specifications. The earth was taken from one side of the bottom of the tank and deposited on the other, to reduce the whole depth by 18 inches. "Great is Red Tape."
There was a change of management on Elderslie by the appointment of Mr. Alexander Gordon. He was a splendid specimen of a man, 6ft. 7in. in height, built in proportion, and most popular. I first met him between Evesham and East Darr Stations. I inquired the distance to the latter station, which he was then managing. He replied, "Oh! a couple of canters and a smoke." It is told of him that when he was travelling on the coach between Charters Towers and Hughenden, he stayed one night at a stage which was a lignum hut, rather small in size. The driver informed the other passengers that when he called Gordon at 4 a.m., he found that he had stretched himself during the night, and that his feet were through the lignum, and so far outside that fowls were roosting on his legs.
About this time many of the properties were changing hands. The Schollicks still retained Oondooroo; Elderslie was held by Sir Samuel Wilson; Dagworth, by Fairbairns, who shortly afterwards sold out to Macpherson and Co.; Bladensburg, by John Arthur Macartney; Sesbania, by Manifold, Bostock and Co.; Manuka, by Anderson and Nicol, who sold out to Baillie, Fraser and Donald; Ayrshire Downs and Cork, by McIlwraith and Smyth. The latter gentleman had camped with us when we were on the road to Winton in 1878. He was taking out a blacksmith named Morgan for Ayrshire Downs Station. Morgan afterwards started a blacksmith's shop in Winton.
Mr. Smyth was afterwards elevated to the Upper House, and although of a retiring nature, was of a friendly disposition.
All these investors were pouring money as if from a stream, and developing their properties.
The greater proportion of the capital so spent was from Victoria, and to this State Western Queensland must be grateful for its development.
Of all the then owners I have mentioned, and most of whom were resident on their properties, only one remains—John Bostock, of Sesbania. If those men did not win success they deserved it, and no one was more worthy (and there were many worthy men) than John Bostock. Schollick's spent over £100,000 on Oondooroo, and left it practically penniless. Macpherson drove from Dagworth with all his belongings on a buck-board, leaving unprofitable, and lost many thousands of pounds. Fraser, of Manuka, who came a little later, died of a broken heart. Western Queensland is greatly subject to mirages, and it is of the nature of these which deluded many men with bright hopes to spend great fortunes. These men battled on to the end, but being of fighting races, when they went down they were still fighting with never a word of despair or of defeat, and John Bostock alone remains.
In this year Sir Thomas and Lady McIlwraith passed through Winton on their way to Ayrshire Downs. The whole of the inhabitants turned out to meet them at the police water-hole (six miles from Winton) after dark. An address was read to Sir Thomas by the aid of a lamp on the road. I had the pleasure of having them as guests in my cottage.
This was my first meeting with McIlwraith, and I was greatly struck with his personality. He was a man, big and broad, both physically and mentally. Yet like most strong men, he was very head-strong and impatient of obstruction to or criticism of his proposals. Neither could he understand that it was not given to every man to see quickly and to act promptly, attributes he possessed in a remarkable degree.
At this time he had his Trans-continental Railway in mind, and he patiently tried to get me to realise how closer settlementof the western country by smaller areas would obtain under it more than it would, under the conditions by which it was then held, that is, in very large areas. The then short experience of residents of the western country were conditions of drought, and I must admit that I thought his ideas were visionary. I have, however, lived to see the success of the grazing farm system and the great improvements effected by underground water supplies. In 1881, these were practically undreamt of. It is likely that McIlwraith could see farther into the future and dream dreams unthought of by others.
The publication of McIlwraith's scheme without doubt gave the hint to Dutton, whose Land Act of 1884 was the inception of our present system of grazing farms. It was unfortunate that the most bitter opponents of McIlwraith's scheme were of the squatting class, who generally resented the cutting up of the vast areas held by them. Had the squatters of the day not defeated his proposals, the grazing-farm system would probably have come into existence some years earlier than it did, and long ago the Gulf country would have had an overland railway. That country would be maintaining a large and prosperous population instead of being, as it is now, almost deserted, and open to danger of occupation by coloured races, and a menace to the safety of Australia. McIlwraith was a far sighted statesman, having the interests of Queensland at heart, and not a politician ready and willing to secure votes.
In this year, Fitzmaurice's sight became affected, and he made a trip to Sydney for expert advice. The whole business of the store and hotel was now thrown on my hands. It was found on Fitzmaurice's return, after an absence of six months, that he was almost blind. By mutual arrangement, it was decided I should buy him out, and he left Winton one of the best-liked men connected with its foundation, and as I found him, a good friend and an honest partner. The life of a hotel-keeper did not appeal to me, so I found a purchaser for thehotel at a satisfactory figure, in Mr. W. B. Steele, of Aramac, who took delivery in April, 1882.
William Brown Steele was a strange character. I believe he had qualified as a chemist, but followed the different gold rushes from California to Victoria, New Zealand, and Peak Downs, thence to Aramac and Winton. His delight was to be accused of being an unscrupulous gambler—of the type described by Bret Harte. I know he was fairly successful at a game of cards, but this was due more to superior playing than to good luck or manipulation. Still, if one who thought he was Steele's equal, proposed a game, the latter would ask:—"Shall we play the game, or all we know?" If the former was agreed to, the game was strictly honest. If the latter was decided on, well, there was some wonderful playing on both sides. I never knew of Steele playing with one inexperienced, or of transgressing the rules of the game unless he was first challenged by his opponent. Then he did play all he knew, and that was something. For many years Steele ran a consultation on the Melbourne Cup which was well patronised, until the anti-gambling legislation, which drove Adams from Queensland, suppressed it, but did not stamp out gambling.
I arranged a partnership with Mr. W. M. Campbell, traveller for Stewart and Hemmant, of Brisbane. He and his wife and family were settled in Fitzmaurice's house by the end of this year.
The Bank of New South Wales had also opened a branch in a small building on the south side of Elderslie Street. Mr. Barnier was the first manager, succeeded afterwards by Mr. Alf. Thompson.
Major Lewis, a veteran of the Indian Mutiny and Papal war, and a fine old Irish gentleman, arrived to succeed Mr. Johnstone as police magistrate. One of the first cases brought before him was a claim for the return of money, under thefollowing circumstances:—I had received a letter from a man on Hamilton Downs Station, stating he was coming in with the station dray for a load of rations, and was anxious to get married. He asked me to look for an eligible female who was willing to yoke up with him, and enclosed his photograph. Treating the matter as a joke, I read the letter to the girls employed at the hotel. The laundress, a big strapping woman, said she was willing to negotiate with him. On the man's arrival I took him round and introduced him. After a couple of days' courtship a date was fixed for the marriage. As an earnest of his good faith, the man gave the woman a cheque for £26 to buy her wedding trousseau. When the day arrived she refused to carry out the promise of marriage. The man came to me for advice, stating that she would not have him, neither would she return any of the money advanced.
I wrote Mr. Conran, the owner of Hamilton Downs Station, explaining the cause of the man's delay, and as the station was short of rations, Conran came in. He and I interviewed the woman, pointing out her dishonesty, but we were told to mind our own business. Mr. Conran then went to consult the P.M. The sergeant of police told Conran the P.M. was engaged, and asked could he do anything for him. Mr. Conran said he had come up about a girl appropriating a sum of money given as a condition of marriage. The sergeant said, "An' shure, an' won't she have yez now." Conran enjoyed the joke of being taken as the rejected lover.
Major Lewis and the police eventually recovered a portion of the money, and the man returned sadder but much wiser, and I renounced for the future any desire to act as matrimonial agent.
About October, 1882, we received a wire from Hughenden, advising that some teams which were carrying our loading had been caught in a flooded creek, and the goods damaged. I immediately started for Wongalee Creek, about 25 miles theother side of Hughenden, or 170 miles from Winton. I found on my arrival the ground in the vicinity covered with drapery, boots, ironmongery, besides nearly empty salt bags, etc., etc., put out to dry. It appeared these teams had crossed the creek and camped on the flat below the bank. A heavy thunderstorm had fallen up the creek during the night and brought the water down a banker, submerging the waggons, and destroying about £1,000 worth of goods. We had no redress against the carrier, the accident, or incident, being considered an act of Providence. The merchants assisted us by renewing our bills for four months longer.
In the same year, we ordered a large consignment of goods from Townsville. It was a dry year, and the teams carrying them were stuck at Hughenden.
In those days the Government had not made the water tanks on the road between Hughenden and Winton, and on the high, open downs country permanent natural water was not obtainable only at long distances. Hearing of the teams being stuck up, we immediately wired a duplicate order to Rockhampton. The latter goods were despatched by rail to Bogantungan (the then terminus of the central line), and loaded on teams. The drought conditions, although not so pronounced as in the Hughenden district, also existed in the Central. These teams were also blocked.
In about six months after the first order was given, the whole 14 teams with the Rockhampton and Townsville goods arrived on the same day at Winton, and I was called upon to pay £2,000 cash down for carriage alone; while our summer goods arrived in the middle of winter.
Fortunately we were able to meet our liabilities.
In 1882, we had a visit—and the first—from a clergyman of any denomination.
He asked me if there was a place in which he could hold service on Sunday. I told him that the only place was the billiard-room at the hotel. I prepared it for the ceremony by draping a blue blanket over the table, and I put a red one opposite over the cue rack, thinking it might help him to put a little fire into his discourse. When all was ready, I obtained the bullock bell from the kitchen. The Chinaman cook, who was a sporting character, said:—"Wha for, nother raffle, all ri, put me down one pund." He refused, however, to give the money when he learnt it was for a church.
When the clergyman was leaving, we decided to present him with a purse of sovereigns in Campbell's house, and I was deputed to hand it to him.
In making a short cut to the house I had to pass the hotel stables, into which a squatter in the orthodox breeches, boots and spurs, was riding. He called out:—"I say, Corfield, what are you wearing a coat for?" I replied, "There's a function on; I'm going to present these sovereigns to a parson." He asked, "Any champagne?" I replied, "Whips of it." He then said, "Hold on, till I put my horse in the yard, and I'll come with you." On reaching the house, I introduced him to the parson prior to the presentation, and we had some champagne. With a few words I presented the purse of sovereigns, when we naturally concluded we would be thanked, but instead the parson said, "Let us pray." We all then knelt to our chairs. Suddenly, as if from one in great pain, I heard the word "Ker-ist." Thinking the parson had been bitten by a snake or something, I looked round, but he appeared quite at ease. I then saw over in the corner the young squatter with blood oozing out of his pants. He had sat upon his long-necked spurs. The parson went on with the prayer, but those present were more occupied suppressing their laughter than in listening to the parson's prayers.
In 1883, Judge Miller, with the present Mr. Justice Real as Crown Prosecutor, opened the first District Court in Winton. Fred Riley and myself had been put on the "Commission of the Peace," and appeared before the Judge to be sworn in. We then decided that we should without delay show that we were magistrates, and prepared to carry out our duties. We found a good, hard-drinking man, and offered him ten shillings to spend in drink. He gladly accepted the offer, and shortly afterwards we were asked by the police to sit on a case of drunkenness and disorderly conduct. Our man had kept to his agreement, and was brought before us. We severely reprimanded him for his conduct and discharged him. Judge Miller hearing of it, frequently recalled the joke to my memory, and we had many a good laugh over it.
Early in this year, Mr. Griffith (afterwards Sir Samuel) and Mr. Dickson (afterwards Sir James) made a tour of the north-west, and travelled by coach from Hughenden to Winton. The party was detained a night at Stack's public house, about midway between the two towns, whilst the mailman rode over to Sesbania with the mail. Mr. Griffith here made the acquaintance of Schofield, who was managing a store near Stack's for Charlie Rowe. Stack's house was not an inviting place, so the two Ministers spent the evening in Schofield's quarters. The latter was shortly afterwards appointed as Government agent on board the "Hopeful." The history of this vessel is well-known in the Law Courts of Queensland. Messrs. Griffith and Dickson were treated to a wine party in Winton. There was but little enthusiasm shown at the meeting, the majority of those present being strong McIlwraithians.
Mr. Fraser, the managing partner of Messrs. Baillie, Fraser and Donald, of Manuka Station, had been in the army, and had served through the Indian Mutiny. He was highly respected by all, but was not popular excepting among those with whom he was intimate. They knew him to be very hospitable and kind, and a thorough gentleman. He came of a high Scottish family, and was proud that one of his ancestral relations had his head cut off for loyalty to his King. I remember being a silent listener to the relation of some happenings which at one time or other occurred in Ireland. The postmaster was a man who, rather young in years, appeared to have had some experiences. He was telling Fraser of the ill-feeling which was existent between two British regiments in a town somewhere in Ireland, while he was there. One was the 65th, an English, and the other the 89th, an Irish regiment. It seems that the latter had been formed from the North Cork militia, which, I understand, bore an unenviable reputation from their conduct during the rebellion in 1798. The townspeople had a long memory of this, and in the disturbance amongst the soldiers, supported the English regiment against their own countrymen. Fraser listened to it all, and then said, "By jove, wasn't it bitter; I was captain of a company of the 89th, and some of my men were badly knocked about." I thought it made the world very small to hear such incidents being related in the far west of Queensland.
Now that we had two banks, four hotels, a chemist, saddler, besides other branches of industry, we felt that we were being drawn perilously within the influences of civilisation and its drawbacks.