Sir Thomas McIlwraithSir Thomas McIlwraithThe manager of one of the banks, who was deservedly popular owing to his genial character, the kind way in which he could refuse one an overdraft, and then suggest quite friendly and cheerfully to the applicant: "What do you think; shall we put the gloves on?" This gentleman had a very peculiar hobby, to attend the sick and dying, and to bury the dead.Some incidents connected with his hobby, are as follows:—A tank sinker from Ayrshire Downs died in the hospital. That day a new warder and his wife, who came from beyond Boulia, were put on. The doctor's instructions were that any person dying of typhoid fever, as did the man in question, was to be taken out of the ward and buried as quickly as possible. Immediately the man died, the wardsman was taking the body straight into the morgue, after sending word to the blacksmith, who was also the undertaker, to come up, and remove the body straight away for burial. Some of the patients, seeing the body being carried out, verbally assisted the new wardsman with their suggestions. Thus, the dead man was to be washed, shaved, and have a clean shirt put on. It was late in the afternoon; the wardsman did not like handling the corpse, so the story goes, that he got a bucket of water and a mop, and mopped the body down. This he left on the table in the morgue, and forgot all about the clean shirt or the shaving. There was an understanding between the police sergeant and the bank manager that as there were no clergymen of any denomination in the town, the sergeant would read the services for the Roman Catholics, and the manager for all others. The undertaker-blacksmith would notify the reader required, and funerals were carried out at any hour, day or night. The tank sinker's funeral was timed to leave the hospital about 12.30 a.m. For some reason the bank manager attended this funeral. The body was then in the coffin, and a start made for the cemetery. There were some of the dead man's mates present, and the bank manager heard them complaining that it was a d——d shame to bury a man naked. When the funeral reached the graveside, the idea struck the manager that, as he was wearing a clean, white shirt, it would be the proper thing to open the coffin, put his shirt on the corpse, and this was done. The action gave great pleasure and satisfaction to the men present, who, as a mark of gratitude, on return to town, wished to knock up the public-house people and shout drinks for all hands.One night there was a funeral at which the manager was to read prayers. The undertaker in this case had a small cart, used as a hearse, drawn by a mule recently broken in, and not too quiet. As the funeral party was walking to the cemetery in the dark, some one struck a match. This was too much for the mule, which bolted across the plain at the back of the cemetery. He reached the edge of a small gully and propped. The weight behind, however, forced him over the bank. The coffin fell out, and the top coming off, the body rolled out on the ground. After extricating the mule, the body was put into the coffin again, and the top put on, the nails driven home with stones. As the mourners objected to the further use of the mule, the party carried the body to the cemetery much to the disgust of the undertaker.Going home from Winton one night after a spree, a boundary-rider from Ayrshire Downs got off his horse a few miles out, and fell asleep. He woke up some time in the night, fairly sober, and found his horse gone, so he started to walk, but having got off the road, perished midway between the 20-mile and the Cockatoo dam, well-known places on this road. The bank manager was assisting in the search for the lost man, and happened to be with the police when the body was found, which was buried on the spot. The dead man's wife lived in Toowoomba, and as the manager had been remitting money from her husband to her, he informed her of the latter's death. She acknowledged the letter, and expressed a wish that the body might be dug up and brought into Winton for decent burial. She asked how long the body would have to be buried before the flesh would be off the bones and the remains could be brought in. The doctor advised it would be fully six months. At the end of this time the widow arrived in Winton to carry out her desires. Early one Sunday morning the widow, accompanied by the bank manager and the undertaker, left town to exhume the remains. The party had a white table-cloth in a red gin case with the cover on to carry the bones. It was anextremely hot day as the party reached the grave, and hobbled the horses out. The manager related "that he and the undertaker soon had the bones upon the cloth in a nice little heap. The widow examined each bone as it was laid down, and she missed one of the knee-caps, so nothing would pacify her until it was found. This we did eventually by rubbing the soil between our hands and breaking the lumps. It was now near dark. We had arranged for the priest to be at the cemetery by sun-down, and that the grave would be ready. When we arrived about 10 o'clock at night the priest and the grave-digger had gone. I then suggested that we should take the bones in the box to Lynett's hotel, but the landlady wouldn't hear of the remains being left at the hotel. Eventually we left the box and the bones in the grave. The priest came out the next morning, and having read the service, the remains were buried decently, and the widow was happy."The manager of one of the stations had died at the North Gregory hotel. The body was immediately carried into the manager's private quarters, at the rear of the business part of the bank. The accountant was seen shortly afterwards protesting against the room, which happened to be his, being used as a morgue. He is to this day certain that from the spot where the hand of the corpse struck the wall as it was being put down, knocking may still be heard on the anniversary of the incident. This bank manager was possessed of great energy and perseverance, and a business capacity seldom met with. He was highly respected and extremely popular with everybody high and low throughout the western country, but he is now the head of one of our principal industries. I often wonder if he still has the inclination to bury people.Our firm had been supplying goods and spirits to a storekeeper at Boulia, whose P.N.'s for a considerable sum of money were not met. Early in 1884. I decided to go out to look into matters. I was accompanied by a Mr. Howard, who was onthe look out for a hotel. On my arrival at Boulia I found that the storekeeper had erected a building as an hotel on a piece of land which he had made several promises to purchase. I found the owner, bought the land, and claimed the building erected upon it. This I considered as equal to the money owing to us. Thos. Lynett, of Winton, had started a branch store in Boulia, and had been supplying the same customer with goods on credit, having the building as security. When he heard that I had purchased the land and claimed the building, he wired to Brisbane to stop the sale. However, nothing came of it. I sold the property to Mr. Howard, and it was not long before he was able to wipe out his indebtedness.Mr. Eglinton, late P.M. in Brisbane, then held a similar appointment at Boulia. A race meeting, which included a hurdle race, was being held. In this race all the horses baulked at the jumps and delayed the running. It was then decided to let the races wait while the visitors had lunch, etc. The judge joined our party. It was a hot day, even for Boulia; refreshments were generous, and in demand. The judge, in common with the visitors, was a thirsty soul. When we next turned our attention to the course, a race was being run, so the judge decided to get into the box. A grey and brown horse had negotiated the hurdles and were coming up the straight neck and neck. When they passed the post the Judge decided that the piebald horse had won. During my stay at Boulia I camped, by the invitation of Mr. Coghlan, the manager at Goodwood Station, just across the Burke River from the township. Mr. Eglinton, P.M., and Mr. Shaw, manager of Diamantina Lakes Station, were also guests, and we were glad to retire to this retreat after the uproarious happenings incidental to western towns during race time.Before leaving, the P.M. asked Mr. Shaw and myself, who were both magistrates, if we would take a "didemus potastatum" to Monkira, about 100 miles down the river from DiamantinaLakes, and swear in Mr. Debney, the manager, as a Justice of the Peace. We consented; it was an excuse for seeing more of the country, and for a longer outing.After a few days spent at the Lakes, we started with my team and buggy, accompanied by Mr. Shaw's little daughter. We reached Davonport Downs, then managed by Mr. McGuigan. He told us there were several very heavy sand hills to negotiate, and offered the loan of a pair of staunch heavy buggy horses. He suggested leaving my horses to spell. I accepted the offer. Shaw and myself took it in turns to drive. At one of these sand hills the horses stuck Shaw up, and refused, in spite of his persuasions, to budge. After giving them a spell, Shaw suggested I should take the reins. I had prepared my whip with a new cracker, but failed to start the horses. I then addressed the horses in the language of bullock-drivers, and stood up in the buggy to more effectually use the whip. The horses started, and I kept them going. Just then a small voice was heard from the back seat of the trap, "Mr. Corfield, will you please remember there's a lady in the buggy." Shaw and I immediately retired into our boots, but the horses gave no further trouble.At that time I think Monkira was the farthest station down the river. Mr. Debney had come from Adelaide. He and Mrs. Debney gave us a splendid reception. The governess to the family afterwards became Mrs. R. K. Milson, of Springvale, and her eldest son lately was married to Miss Morgan-Reade, of Winton. On our return to Davonport Downs, we found Mr. McGuigan laid up with fever, so I took him into Winton.In November, 1884, Sir Thos. McIlwraith, who had been inspecting his stations, passed through Winton, but while at Ayrshire Downs he received news of his father's death, and refused all demonstrations. I drove him to Vindex. On the road out I told him I contemplated leaving for England the following year. He gave me many hints for my guidance;also a letter of introduction to his brother, William McIlwraith, in London.The western country was now suffering from a very severe and prolonged drought which brought ruin to many men, and heavy loss to those who pulled through. Taking advantage of the dry spell, I had a small tank excavated in my paddock. A heavy thunderstorm, averaging a little over two inches, fell over the town, and being anxious to learn if it had any water, I asked two friends to walk with me to the tank. We plodded about a mile in the heavy soil. I was satisfied with the result of my inspection; not so my companions, who lost their shoes in the boggy ground, and heaped anathemas on me and my dam.Altogether their language on the return journey was of a very lurid nature.This was the first rain for eleven months, and to celebrate it, Winton held carnival for three weeks, during which time no business of any sort was attempted. The time was devoted to sports and jollifications. About two miles east and west of the town ran wire fences, the road passing through gates. The peculiarity of this storm was that no rain fell beyond the fences. It was a strange sight to see green grass on one side of the wires and outside perfectly bare.I have somewhere in this narrative alluded to lignum, and it may not be out of place at this juncture to describe what it is. Lignum is a small shrub which grows in the dry-water courses. It is much used as walls of houses—timber and iron being very expensive—roofing sheds, and such like. It does not keep out the rain, but is sun proof. With the thermometer running well past the 100 deg. in the shade, a roasting hot wind such as obtains in the western country, there are many worse pleasures to be enjoyed in the west than a lignum shed and a canvas bag. of cool rain water. Had old Omar known of the canvas water bag, he would prefer to sing its praises rather than those of a jug of wine. Blessings on the man who first thought of itCHAPTER XII.In April, 1885, I left Winton by coach on my way to England. Mr. J. D. Wienholt, of Warenda Station, and Mr. J. B. Henderson, late Hydraulic Engineer, were fellow passengers. About 10 miles from Muttaburra we were met by a cavalcade of people on horse back and in buggies to meet Mr. Henderson. The coach having stopped, some bottles of champagne were opened, and Wienholt and I were invited to join in. Mr. Henderson accompanied the procession to town. Later in the day we were invited to the dinner to him, to celebrate the completion of the town dam and tank, which were still quite dry. Muttaburra had not had rain for nearly a year. Mr. Henderson left us here to be conveyed by private buggy to Aramac, where we again met. I travelled down the coast from Rockhampton by the old "Keilawarra," afterwards sunk in a collision.The Russian war scare was on, and passing Lytton we had to undergo a strict examination to prove that we were not spies. It can be imagined with what prayers a number of sunburnt, outback Queenslanders paraded to satisfy the defence authorities that they were peaceful and law-abiding citizens. I remained three days in Brisbane, the evenings of which I spent at the Exhibition, which was frequented by ladies and gentlemen indulging in the pleasure of roller-skating. I resumed my journey to Sydney, and left this city by train a few days later for Melbourne. This was my first visit to the latter city, and I enjoyed perambulating through its streets. I joined the s.s. "Sir John Elder" here, and sailed for England.Passing through the Red Sea, we met the New South Wales contingent returning from Suakim, where they had joined theImperial troops, just too late to take any active part in the Soudan campaign.When we reached Lake Timsah, half-way through the Suez Canal, we were detained because of a dredge having sunk in the Canal and blocked the channel. A party from the ship, having its headquarters at Shepheard's Hotel, was formed to visit Cairo and the Pyramids.The dinner at 9 p.m. was held in a quadrangle of the hotel.The after-dinner scene was very charming. Chinese lanterns were hung in the trees, the ladies in evening dress, the officers of the Imperial Army in mess dress of different colours.Among those present were Lord Wolseley and General Macpherson.Coming down the Pyramid of Cheops, I had an Arab holding each hand, and a boy with a gourd of water behind. The boy had unwound his cummerbund to place under my arms by which to steady me in jumping down from one ledge to the other. Half-way down I suggested a halt, when one of the Arabs accosted me—"Which fella country you come from?" "America?""No!""England?""No!""Australia?""Yes!""Ah!" he said, "very good kangaroo, you!"We visited all the places of interest, including the battlefield of Tel-eh-kebir.We reached our ship, which was still blocked in the Lake. The French people in Ismailia sent their launches out to the ships, so we continued putting time in going ashore every day and riding on donkeys. These animals were generally called afterbeautiful women celebrities. Mine was called "Lillie Langtry." When we got clear, 40 steamers were blocked. Our ship led the procession through the Canal. There was only just room for us to pass where the accident had happened, and when we leached Suez 200 ships, including several men-of-war, were awaiting our arrival to pass south.We spent a day at Naples, and in time I arrived in Plymouth Sound in mid-summer, having left it 23 years before in mid-winter. As I had accepted an invitation to visit my cousin, Mr. S. P. Newbery, who resided at Plympton St. Mary, six miles out from Plymouth, so I left the ship. This relative was land steward to Lord Morley. He had been selected to judge the cattle at the Royal Agricultural Show at Preston, Lancashire, and I accompanied him. The warm, genial weather added to my enjoyment. We took up our quarters at Blackpool, as there was no accommodation to be had in Preston. The Prince of Wales (late King Edward the VII.) attended the show, and Mr. Newbery was appointed to show him round. I followed as if in the Prince's retinue, and enjoyed the novelty of the situation. Returning to Devonshire I spent a glorious time keeping my cousin's horse in condition, and occasionally following the hounds. Whilst there I made a trip to the Isle of Wight, and was present in Fotheringham Church when Princess Beatrice was married to Prince Henry of Battenburg. I need hardly say I was not present by invitation.During my stay at Plympton St. Mary, the 1886 elections were held, and my relative being in politics a conservative, took an active part in the return of Sir John Kennaway (who died a few years ago, father of the House of Commons). Mr. Newbery was chairman of many of his meetings at which I attended. A polling booth was at the school house at Plympton, and on the day of the poll, I was much amused to see gentlemen's carriages being driven to the poll with the coachmen and footmen in livery, and men in their working dressstepping out to vote. Presently a Devonshire farmer drove up in his donkey cart. I noticed the donkey was dressed in the Liberal colours. The farmer recorded his vote, and came out on the porch, when he was accosted by another farmer, thus:—"Wull! Farmer Symes, you been an' voted?""Yus," he replied."Wull, but how's this, I allus thocht ye was a Conservative?""So I be.""But look at yer dunkey ther' all dress'd up in the Liberal colours?""Ah!" he said, "I'm a man, but that's an ass."On returning to London I delivered my letter of introduction to Mr. William McIlwraith, by whose kindness I met many leading business people, as well as Lord Randolph Churchill, who appeared to be built up of fine live wires.I left England in May, 1886, taking my passage through Cook and Son,viaAmerica. From New York I made trips to Baltimore, Philadelphia, and Washington. After a week or so I joined the overland train for Albany, visiting Niagara Falls, and other interesting places in that locality. Going on to Chicago, I spent a few days visiting the meat works. Wonderful energy had been shown in re-building the city after the destructive fire which happened a short time previously. From Denver I travelled by the narrow gauge "Denver and Rio Grande" line to Utah. Here I spent a week amongst the Mormans, who are a remarkably industrious and energetic, as well as peculiar people. One of the elders introduced me to a daughter by his tenth wife. I had frequent dips in the Salt Lake, in company with the Mormans, their wives and families. The water of the lake is so buoyant that one might throw up one's hands and remain upright. The body would sink only to the chest.The trains were crowded with men belonging to the grand army of the Republic who were going to San Francisco, where the 20th anniversary of peace, after the Civil War was to be held. The Americans were all very friendly to me. I was invited to join them, and as I was much sunburnt easily passed as one of the veterans.I took up my quarters at the Palace Hotel, which occupied about four acres of ground. I believe it was at that time the largest hotel in the world. I managed to get a room at four and a-half dollars a day. When I entered it I could see nothing but "Corfield." There were mirrors all round excepting where the furniture stood. In the quadrangle, just below my balcony, a band played continuously.'Friscowasen-fete. Arches were erected in Market Street, and bunting was flying everywhere. I spent a week in the city, having for a companion a young doctor, for whom I had brought a parcel from his parents in England. He obtained alocum tenens, and gave up the time to pilot me round. We visited every point of interest, including the Chinese gambling dens, in and around 'Frisco, which has a very interesting history dating from the time of the Spanish missions.On the trip across the Pacific we had a nice complement of passengers. A day at Honolulu was spent enjoying the beauty spots. We tried to call on the "King," but as he was enjoying a carousal, he could not receive us. We called at Apia, in the Samoan Islands, and when crossing to New Zealand, we noticed that the sea was covered by what appeared to be pumice stone. On our arrival at Auckland we heard of the eruption of Mount Tarawera. Mr. Rutherford, a gentleman well-known throughout N.S.W. and West Queensland, the principal of Cobb and Co. in Australia, was a passenger with his daughter from 'Frisco. I accompanied them during the three days the boat remained in Auckland. Shortly after our arrival at the Star Hotel, Mr. Rutherford, who had picked up a "Queenslander," said to me,"Who is driving the coach from Muttaburra to Winton?" I said, "Macpherson." "Well," he said, "he won't drive it long when I get back." "Why?" I asked. "Well, here is a paragraph in this paper, which says he capsized the coach in Elderslie Street, opposite your office."We duly reached Sydney in August, 1886, and after spending a week there, I sailed for Rockhampton, and proceeded to Peak Downs Station, which my brother-in-law, Edmund Casey, was then managing for the Messrs. Fairbairn. I found he had broken in to harness for me two Arab ponies which would trot their 12 miles an hour. I trucked these and a buggy I had purchased in Sydney to Alpha, the then terminus of the Central railway line, where my other horses—brought from Winton—met me. Good rains had fallen in July, thus breaking up the long drought which had commenced three years before. I had plenty of grass and water all the way to Winton. I camped a night at Mount Cornish, and met Mr. and Mrs. Edkins for the first time for 20 years, having last met them on the Flinders River when they were on their honeymoon trip, as I have already related. They now had quite a large family, and made me very welcome. I arrived at Winton driving four grey horses, the two Arabs Mr. Casey broke in for me being splendid leaders.A few evenings after my arrival I was the guest at a smoke concert given by the Dramatic Club in Steele's hall in my honour. Mr. Dodd, postmaster, the president of the club, was in the chair. There was some fine speeches, and a splendid display of wit and repartee. On entering the room, my attention was attracted by the drop-scene on the stage representing the Catskill Mountains in America. The members had given a rendering of "Rip Van Winkle," previous to my leaving for England. The scene was a daub of colours with a hole cut in the sky, to which a piece of calico had been affixed at the back to represent either the sun or the moon, I forget which. On returning thanks to the toast of my health, I relatedmany of my experiences since I left them in 1885, but apparently I made a hit when I described my sailing up the Hudson River from New York. Seeing a mountain in the distance, with numerous houses here and there, the afternoon sun shining and throwing different shades over mountain and river, I inquired from a fellow passenger if he could tell me the name of that beautiful mountain? He replied the "Catskill Mountains." I said, "Are you sure?" "Sure enough," he said. "Why?" "Well, because I have seen a painting of it in Steele's Hall at Winton, and it's not a bit like that." The laughter that followed easily made me feel at home with the company during the remainder of a very pleasant evening. Dr. Hawthorne made a great hit in his speech in explaining the anomaly of a bashful Irishman.I found many changes had taken place during my seventeen months' absence. The Schollicks' had left Oondooroo, which had become the property of Messrs. Ramsay Brothers and Hodgson, with Mr. M. F. Ramsay as manager.Winton also had grown quickly. TheWinton Heraldnewspaper, with Mr. Maxwell as proprietor, was issued as a weekly.Roller skating was the rage. I remember one afternoon when passing the Court House, I went over to see what was causing a noise there. Looking through the window I saw all the benches stacked on one side, and the police magistrate practising on skates. He had a pillow strapped at the back of his neck, and another on a lower portion of his body for buffers. He stumbled, and I saw the use for the pillows.The growth of grass in 1886 occasioned extensive bush fires in the end of this and the beginning of the following year. A very large fire occurred at Vindex. I called for volunteers to join in putting it out. The call was readily responded to, and I headed a large party composed of all classes of men to assistthe station hands. By our combined efforts we succeeded in putting the fire out, but not until it had burnt many miles of country. In those days there was no ill-feeling between labour and capital, or employers and employee. All united to work for the common good. Subsequently the same generous help was extended to Elderslie and Ayrshire Downs Stations.In 1887, I can say the residents of Winton were as if all were of one family. They made their own pleasures, at which all classes were welcome, and invitations were unnecessary. This proved one of the happiest times of my life.The new owners of Oondooroo were developing their property regardless of cost. Amongst the many innovations introduced by them, but which now have become necessaries, was the system of private telephone lines over the run. In connection with this system was an ingenious idea, something like a compass card, by means of which bush fires were located, and which saved a great deal of unnecessary work and riding. With the exception of Norman, the youngest, who went "west" in France during the late war, I believe the Ramsays are still in the land of the living. It is a pity that Queensland is the loser by not having more men of the same high character as the Ramsay's, of Oondooroo.In November, 1887, John Bartholomew, who was travelling manager for Cobb and Co., asked me—as their Winton agent—to accompany him to Croydon, to which place he was bound in connection with some coach accident which had occurred in that district, and I accepted the invitation. We travelled by coach to Hughenden 150 miles, thence down the Flinders to Cloncurry, distant 265 miles, and on to Normanton, 240 miles.This latter portion was completed under great difficulties, the early wet season necessitating our working day and night to keep contract time. On our way we saw where a bullock-dray loaded with explosives had been blown up. How theexplosion happened was never known, but after it occurred nothing remained of the bullocks; some of the iron work of the dray was picked up a mile away.Before we reached Normanton we were reduced to three horses, and the rains having been heavier, we were continually digging the coach out of bogs. At dark oneeveningI walked on to lessen the load, and on crossing a plain I saw a log on the side of the road on which I decided to have a rest. I sat on it in the dark, and feeling something move, I put my hand down on the cold, clammy tail of a snake. His lordship evidently had his head in a hole, or might have bitten me. The shock gave me increased energy, and I reached the groom's change at 10.30 p.m. The coach arrived an hour later. We were all thoroughly done up, and had a supper of stewed galahs. The stage-keeper was without flour.When we arrived at Normanton we were in a sad plight from our rough experiences. The next day Bartholomew and myself were the only passengers on the coach for Croydon. Unusually heavy rain had fallen during the night, and the road was bad. We reached Creen Creek, half-way to Croydon, that evening. Here we met the coach from that place on its way to Normanton. The driver of this coach gave a bad account of the road ahead. It was decided that Bartholomew and the driver should ride, and pack the mail on horses to Croydon. Mr. Bartholomew arranged with the other driver to take me back to Normanton. The coach was full, and I had to sit on the splash board with my legs hanging over the two mules which were in the pole. We had not gone far before we got into a bog. The three horses in the lead were floundering so much that we had to take them out, but the mules stood quietly up to their bellies in the soft ground. The passengers were all males and turned to. By levering the wheels on to the cushions, we got the coach on hard ground again. This happened so often that I decided to walk on. I came upon a bullock team loaded withtimber, bogged. With it was Fred Shaw, who at one time was connected with Cobb and Co., and who was taking the timber to Croydon for building. I offered my help to get the waggon out of the bog by assisting the driver on the off-side with a whip. We succeeded after some time, but not without the use of some language.In soft ground bullocks will stand up to their middle chewing their cud whilst a clear passage is being cut through for the wheels, and if once got to pull together they will invariably get through. Mules are practically the same, hence Cobb and Co. using them. The moment a horse loses his footing he commences to plunge about, and so turns the ground into liquid in which he has no footing.The coach camped at a wayside place that night. I walked on in the morning; the coach overtook me eight miles from Normanton, into which I rode, and was glad to reach the hotel and comfort once more.During the week spent in Normanton waiting the return of Mr. Bartholomew, and also the arrival of a steamer, I made the acquaintance of Mr. Forsyth, who was the resident manager for Burns, Philp and Co., and later on sat in Parliament for many years.At Thursday Island there was no jetty, so our steamer anchored out in the channel. Here Mr. (now Sir Robert) Philp joined us from a tour of inspection of the company's branches. He had not long before been returned at a bye-election for Musgrave. When leaving, he and I boarded the steamer in a boat belonging to the company, with a black crew dressed in white shirts, which gave them quite a picturesque effect. On reaching Cairns, Mr. Philp included me in his party to go by rail to Redlynch, the then terminus of the line. The construction of the line up the range towards the Barron Falls was then going on, but we were unable to view the Falls.On our trip down, Mr. Philp mentioned that the McIlwraith party would require a representative for the Gregory in place of the late Mr. Thos. McWhannell. He hinted to me that probably my name as successor would be acceptable to Sir Thomas McIlwraith. I replied, "I know nothing of politics, and have no desire to take them on."I remained over Christmas in Townsville, and arrived in Winton to celebrate the new year of 1888. Election news was the absorbing topic.I asked Sir Thomas McIlwraith by telegram who was the party's accredited candidate, giving certain names which were spoken of. He replied, "Know nothing about the gentlemen mentioned; why don't you stand yourself?" Mr. J. B. Riley, of Vindex, happened to be in town. I showed him the wire, which he took, and went away.In the beginning of March, Mr. Riley, accompanied by others, presented me with a requisition to become the McIlwraith candidate. This was signed by nearly all the inhabitants of Winton and pastoralists of the district. When handing it to me, Riley said, "Now, I give you two hours to consult your partner, and give me your decision." After consultation with Mr. Campbell, my partner, I assented to the request, and called a meeting of the electors, which I addressed in the Court House in April, 1888. I then started in my buggy alone to hold meetings at the different stations. At Elderslie one was held at the woolshed, where I had a bale of wool as the platform. At Vindex, the meeting was held in the blacksmith's shop, I standing on the anvil block of wood, and so on.Finally, when the nomination day came round, I was the only candidate. So I was returned unopposed.During the Easter holidays in April, 1888, a cricket match, Countryv.Town, was held at Vindex Station. At any rate, this was the name under which invitations were given by the Rileys,Chirnsides, Ramsays and Bostocks to the townspeople of Winton, as an expression of the goodwill and friendship which then existed among all classes throughout the district.Vindex was noted for its hospitality at all times, but it now excelled itself.A lot of school-boys could not have enjoyed themselves more than did the many grey heads among the company. Woe betide any one, host or guest, who shirked, or did not join in the fun. A visitor from town tried to do so by fixing a nice quiet camp far away from the hurly burly. His actions were observed by the postmaster, who put his bull dog in the visitor's bed, instructing the animal not to allow any one into it. When the visitor who shirked, tried to retire for the night the bull dog tackled him, tore his pyjamas off, and left him as a subject for much raillery.One visitor who had arrived from Rockhampton the previous day, was found wandering in the vicinity of the big dam, where he said he was enjoying the salt ozone.The country won the match easily, but I think they took advantage of the town.This will be understood from the fact that a dozen bottles of whisky, and a two-gallon jar of the same medicine were brought on the ground for refreshments. The town went into bat first, and by the time their innings was finished, so were the refreshments.CHAPTER XIII.When returning from the Court House with my £20 deposit after the nomination, I was way-laid by Sergeant Murray, of the police, who in oily sentences of congratulation suggested that I should give half of the money towards the erection of a Roman Catholic church, then about to be built. I succumbed to his flattery, although my own clergyman was daily expected, and my name was coupled with Father Plormel, the resident priest, on a piece of paper, and inserted in a hole in one of the blocks underneath the building. The church has been enlarged since, and I heard that the paper with our names, and those of the members of the committee, was found in a good state of preservation. This Sergeant Murray was a man of great dry humour and shrewdness.One day I was speaking to him, when one of two partners in a racehorse came up, and told us he and his partner had a dispute; the latter had the horse in his possession, in Lynett's stable, the door of which was secured with a padlock and trace chain. Murray asked him, "Why don't ye lock him up?""Hang it all, the horse is locked up already; what is the good of my locking him up?""Well, as your partner has the horse locked up you can't get him out, and if you lock the horse up, then your partner can't get him out.""Oh, I see," said the owner, and immediately bought the lock and chain.This advice was so novel to us that we all visited the stables and were amused to see two locks and trace chains to prevent the removal of the horse by either partner. It proved a commonsense way of settling the dispute in a few hours, and the partners became better friends afterwards.On reaching Brisbane to attend the House, I interviewed Sir Thomas McIlwraith, who, after congratulating me on my return, said:—"I intend to put down an artesian bore at Winton." I asked if I might make use of this. He replied, "Well, it rests on me and my party being returned to office."I felt certain that this would follow, so I wired to Winton that I had been promised an artesian bore. The town was painted red on the news.At the opening of Parliament, Sir Samuel Griffith, seeing 45 members to his 27, resigned the Premiership, and Sir Thomas McIlwraith was sent for by Sir Anthony Musgrave. On the House meeting again within a few days, Mr. Albert Norton was unanimously elected speaker, and Sir Thomas McIlwraith asked for two months to construct his ministry. This was granted.I returned to Winton, and on arrival was accorded a typical western reception for obtaining the promise of an artesian bore for the town. At this stage it was only a promise, but the residents had such faith in McIlwraith that they accepted it as a fact. Parliament assembled in July with Sir Thomas McIlwraith as Premier.In the early part of the year a bush fire broke out on the road to Ayrshire Downs, and parties were organised to extinguish it. The police preceded us, and noticing fires springing up further on, decided to push ahead to ascertain the cause. They saw a man near the lighted grass with a box of matches in his hand, and arrested him on suspicion. When brought before the Police Magistrate, the man was charged under the English Act against arson.Through correspondence with the Attorney-General, it was learnt that the English Act applied to artificial, and not tonatural, grasses. The offender was discharged with a caution, as the evidence was really only circumstantial.Shortly afterwards he was caught red-handed firing the grass on Warenda Station, on his way to Boulia. He was brought before the Boulia justices, who sentenced him to three months' imprisonment under the "Careless Use of Fire Act." This was the maximum penalty that could be inflicted. On completion of his term the grass-burner was liberated, and vowed he would burn the whole of the d——d squatters out.The pastoralists hearing of it, put men to watch him through their respective runs.I returned to Brisbane with the intention of defeating his designs. On interviewing McIlwraith, he advised me to see Mr. Thynne (who was then Solicitor-General), and explain matters to him, adding:—"Thynne will draft a clause for you in the 'Injuries to Property Act.' You can bring in the Bill for the Amendment yourself." I did so, and found I was saddled with an amendment of an Act of Parliament without any previous knowledge of procedure. However, through the kindness of Mr. Bernays (the clerk of Parliament), I was instructed in this, and successfully carried through the second reading of the amendment to the Act.Under this a man found burning natural grass may be prosecuted under the "English Act against Arson," which meant a maximum of 14 years' imprisonment.In committee, Sir Samuel Griffith suggested I should insert a clause whereby it could be tried at a District Court, and so prevent witnesses having to attend a Supreme Court, held on the coast. The Bill, with this addition, went through committee. I was informed by Mr. Archer, M.L.A. for Rockhampton, that this was the first occasion in Queensland for a member to navigate a Bill through the House in his first Parliamentary year.I thought I had completed my work with the Bill, but was surprised when Mr. Bernays asked me whom I had selected to take it through the Council. I asked the Hon. William Aplin to pilot it through, and the amendment to the "Injuries to Property Act" was assented to on the 23rd of October, 1888.On the second evening after my arrival I sauntered in the Botanic Gardens to kill the time to dinner at 7 p.m. Being a stranger, I was ignorant that the Gardens were closed at 6 p.m. I noticed that the few people I had seen on entering had entirely disappeared. As the dinner hour approached, I went to the gate and found it locked, as were the other gates I tried to pass through. Continuing my walk, I found an opening in the hawthorne hedge, which separated the Gardens from the Domain, in which Government House was then situated. I crawled through, and when I reached the lodge gates, I was asked by a policeman stationed there, if I had been to Government House?I said, "No.""Then where did you come from, my friend?""From the Gardens.""And how did you get here?"I then explained the circumstances."Where do you belong?""Winton.""What's your name?""Corfield.""Yes, is that so? What are you?""I am one of the new members of Parliament." Then the blarney came out."Pass on, Mr. Corfield, your face would carry you anywhere, sir."And so ended the incident.In 1888, £50,000 was put on the Estimates for sinking artesian wells, and a contract entered into with a Canadian company to sink 7,500 feet at certain specified places. Wellshot Station was selected as one, to encourage private enterprise, to try for water at great depths.When at Winton, early in 1889, I was handed a telegram from Mr. Henderson, the Hydraulic Engineer, advising me that the sinking of the well at Wellshot had to be abandoned, and as carriers were not procurable at Barcaldine to take the plant to Winton, it had been decided to send it to Kensington Downs.I immediately called a public meeting, and laid the matter before it. The meeting decided that I should go to Barcaldine the following morning. Owing to accidents to the coach, and want of sobriety at several of the coach stages, we were very much behind time in arrival. I found that I could obtain carriers to take the plant to Winton at a reasonable price, and wired the Engineer, but, although I remained a week in Barcaldine, I did not get even an unsatisfactory reply from that officer.I now received a hint that there were influences at work to prevent the plant going to Winton, and to send telegrams through another place. I arranged a long explanatory wire to Sir Thomas McIlwraith, to be sent from . . . . the operator at that place cutting off Barcaldine while the message was being sent, and the following day I was authorised by the engineer to arrange with carriers for the transport of the plant to Winton.It was very pleasant to witness the chagrin of the local people when they learnt how their engineering was defeated.I learnt now that some Brisbane ladies did not possess politeness, as one of them sat on my hat when it was on my head, and did not apologise. It happened in this way. In those days the Brisbane trams were drawn by horses. I wishedto go to Ascot. When near the Custom House I saw a two-decker car just leaving. A lady was mounting the steps to gain a seat on the top. I ran and caught the car, following the lady up the steps. At the turn of the road the driver gave the horses the whip, they jumped forward, the sudden jerk caused the lady to lose her balance and her grip of the hand-rail. She sat on the hat on my head. The article, a hard felt, was pressed down with her weight. The sides opened up, and the rim fell down and became fast over my nose. I saw stars, but not the lady's face. The conductor assisted to dislodge the hat from my nose, and I left the car to purchase a new hat. Probably, I saved the lady's life, but she continued her way to the top, apparently treating the accident as an every-day occurrence. I was unable to make a claim for damages to my hat or self respect.Mr. Tozer (the then Home Secretary), was a lover of deep-sea fishing, and I frequently accompanied him in his excursions. One Friday, when the House was not sitting, I accepted an invitation to join him in a trip to a new fishing ground. I joined the "Otter" at the Queen's Wharf at 2 p.m. Our party comprised Captains Pennefather and Grier, John Watson, M.L.A., and Messrs. W. H. Ryder, A. A. McDiarmid, Primrose and myself, besides the officers and crew. We cruised along Moreton Island and caught sufficient fish for our tea, after which we retired to our bunks, and the steamer made for the Tweed Heads. About 3 a.m., we were awakened by the cry of "Fish Oh!" On reaching the deck we found the officers and crew hauling in schnapper as fast as they could bait their hooks. We were all soon engaged in the same sport. Each line had four hooks on, and the fish were so plentiful that often when a line was pulled up with, as one thought, one big fish on it, there would be three or four, some hooked through the eye, others by the tail. We fished until 8 a.m., and found on counting we had 1,100 fish aboard. Tozer had caught the highest single catch of 155, whilst mine, the smallest number,was 79. The sailors cleaned as many as they could on our return. When opposite the South Passage we sent a boat to the Lighthouse to wire Brisbane for any person wanting fish to meet the boat at the wharf, and to bring bags with them. Many did so, but all could not be taken away, and a quantity was dumped into the river. This was the record catch of the season, and I have never heard of it being beaten.At this time, and for a few years afterwards, I had as partner in a small pastoral property, a Mr. Wm. Booth. He was said to have been mixed up with some troubles connected with Irish affairs, and that the name he went under was assumed. Whether this was so or not, I found him to be a fine, straight-forward man, and was greatly affected when in 1894 his charred remains were found on the run. The mystery of his death remains undiscovered. On his death I wound up the pastoral partnership, and placed the value of Booth's interest in the hands of the Curator of Intestate Estates. Every effort was made to discover his relatives, but so far, I believe, his estate remains unclaimed.To those interested in constitutional law, the Kitt's case, which occurred in 1888, may prove interesting. This incident happened in connection with a pair of boots, but from it was obtained the decision that the Governor should follow the advice of his ministers on matters not affecting the authority of the Crown. It was laid down that they were responsible for giving the advice, not he for accepting it. The incident was a small matter to define a very important point.I think it was about this time that the police were called upon to act in opposition to the Naval Forces of the State, under the following circumstances. The Naval Commandant of the time had a disagreement with the Minister administering the Navy, and ordered the two war vessels, the "Paluma" and "Gayundah" to put to sea, contending he was under thecontrol of the Admiral in charge of the station, and defied the Minister. Steam was up on the vessels, when a rather large body of police, fully armed, was marched down to the Botanic Gardens, and lined the river banks ready to fire on the ships if they were moved. Meanwhile, the wires were at work. The Admiral disclaimed control over the vessels, as it was a time of peace, and the Commandant retreated from the stand he had taken. The matter quietened down, but the Commandant shortly afterwards retired from the service of the State.Mr. W. Little, more popularly known on northern goldfields as Billy Little, represented the electorate of Woothakata in the Assembly. When speaking on the railway which it had been decided should start from Cairns to Herberton, he argued, "S'help me G——, Mr. Speaker, they are building a railway at Cairns over a mountain, down which a crow couldn't fly without putting breeching on." The simile convulsed the House, but did not affect its decision.During this session I could not but admire the patience and courtesy with which Sir Samuel Griffith treated all, even his opponents, after he once expressed himself on a measure. Time and again he would point out defects, which his legal mind detected in the wording of Bills, but which were not perceptible to the ordinary lay mind.In 1889, when the Estimates were being formed, Sir Thomas McIlwraith insisted that £40,000 should be put on for building a Central Railway Station in Ann Street, Brisbane. His colleagues dissented, holding the view that the then existing station would serve for a generation, or longer. McIlwraith resigned the premiership, but retained the office of Vice-President of the Executive Council.Mr. B. D. Morehead succeeded him as Premier, but there were no other changes in the personnel of the Cabinet.During the recess of 1890, I left Winton in March, after a good, wet season, to make a tour of my electorate, visiting the townships and stations throughout the district, and going close to Lake Nash, over the border of the Northern Territory.I held meetings at the places visited, covering a distance of 1,600 miles, yet I was unable to visit the whole district.At Glenormiston, one of the stations visited, the blacks had just returned from the Mulligan River, where they had procured their season's supply of "Pituri." This is obtained from a small bush, and when prepared for chewing, has an effect similar to opium. The "pituri" is much prized by the blacks. It is prepared for use by the seeds being pounded up and mixed with gidya ashes, which the gins chew until it obtains the proper consistency. It then resembles putty, and when not being used as chewing gum is carried by the blacks round their ears. If the native offers one a chew it is a sign of friendship and hospitality. This friendship was offered me, but declined with thanks. I obtained a small bagful of the seeds, intending to give them to Mr. Bailey, Curator of the Brisbane Gardens, but I made other use of it. I was compelled to make easy stages on account of the heavy pulling. The season was bitterly cold; camping on the open downs with no shelter was not pleasant.The distance from Boulia to Springvale is 80 miles, the only traffic along it being the pack horse of the mailman once a week. One of the places I camped at was known as Elizabeth Springs. This spring is a circular hole of about three feet in diameter, in which warm water is continually bubbling up. The overflow runs into Spring Creek, and runs for 15 miles, emptying into a large hole opposite the head station. A peculiarity of this spring is, if one jumps into it, the force of the water causes the body to rebound like a rubber ball, and small particles of sand coming up with the water causes a stinging sensation. The depth of the spring is unknown.About 40 yards from this spring there is another hole, the water of which is quite cold, and of an inky colour. This hole has attributes opposite to the other, that is—a body will sink quickly in its water. The blacks have a tradition that a gin jumped into it, and was never seen again. These springs are on Springvale run.On arriving at the station, I found Mr. Milson was out mustering, but Mrs. Milson, who remembered me at Monkira some six years before, made me very comfortable. I left the following morning to cover the 37 miles to Diamantina Lakes Station. When I reached the Gum Holes, on the boundary of the two runs, I decided to camp. Mr. Milson turned up here, and from him I learnt that the Diamantina River, which was about seven miles ahead of me, was uncrossable, and that it was running about four miles wide. He instructed me that when I reach the river, I was to go to a high ridge two miles back, and make a large bonfire at night. I arrived at the river the following day, when my man and I employed ourselves the whole afternoon in getting wood, which was scarce and some distance away. The closer timber had been used by the mailman to attract the attention of the station people in flood time, as we were to do.The station was about eight miles from the ridge, and we had great trouble during the night to keep the fire burning. The next afternoon Mr. Shaw, the manager, came across in a canvas boat, and camped the night with us. It was arranged I should return with him in the boat and leave the man with the horses, as it was impossible to cross them. We were out of meat, so Mr. Shaw promised to send some to the man the following day. We started on our four-mile pull, Shaw with the sculls, and I in the stern to steer the canoe. In the shallow water between the channels we had to be very careful, as patches of lignum were showing above the water, and our boat being only canvas, a slight prick of the lignum would perforateit. However, we made the crossing safely, and arrived at the station at sun-down. I was very glad to get comfortable quarters once more, and Mr. and Mrs. Shaw and their family treated me right royally.After a stay of five days we found the water had gone down and left several islands visible between the channels. When the flood allowed we started, taking a long, strong piece of rope,provisions, and about ten black fellows. Shaw and I paddled the boat containing the rope and provisions. The black boys swam the channels, and carried the boat across the islands, where we walked. We arrived at my camp in the afternoon, and prepared for an early start on the morrow. Whilst I was away a mob of travelling cattle had come to the camp. The men had killed a beast, and were making a boat of the hide to carry their saddles and provisions across. The mosquitoes that night were something to be remembered, and my man looked as if he had measles.We had a good breakfast at daylight, and then commenced crossing in the following manner:—Some of the boys would wade into the water until it was up to their waist. I would then drive the buggy and four horses up to them, unharness the latter, putting the harness in the boat to be rowed to dry land. The boat would then return for the provisions and every movable article in the buggy. The horses were then swam over, after which the rope was attached to the axle of the buggy and run along the pole, a half-hitch being tied at the point. When all were across, and the rope brought over by the boat, all hands would pull the buggy across. It would, of course, soon disappear beneath the water, and at each disappearance I wondered if I should see it again. Had the pole caught in a stump, the probability was that it or the rope would break. However, we got it safely across the channels, which varied in depth up to 25 feet of water. It was quite dark when we reached the station, all tired out. The black boys behavedsplendidly, so I gave them the "pituri" intended for Mr. Bailey. This gift they prized far more than money or tobacco. The next evening I held a meeting at the station, and resumed my journey up the river the day following. Travelling was now easy, the road being good, with plenty of grass and water for my horses. Meeting one's constituents in a western electorate is not a short, pleasant picnic.A rather serious crisis arose during the early part of this session (1890). McIlwraith introduced a measure to levy a tax on all wool exported over the border to New South Wales and South Australia.The intention of the bill was to divert the trade of southern and south-western Queensland to the Queensland Railways. The pastoralists of those districts obtained supplies, and sent their wool from and to the southern Colonies, where the rates were lower than those charged over the Queensland lines.McIlwraith's argument was that Queensland was heavily taxed for the construction and maintenance of these lines; that this Colony was also incurring excessive expenditure for administrative purposes, and if the pastoralists would not give Queensland the necessary revenue towards these services, it should be forced from them.The bill provoked heated arguments from McIlwraith's supporters. The Opposition looked on with some interest, anticipating a Government defeat. The bill passed its second reading by the casting vote of the Speaker. I voted with the Government. McIlwraith promptly tendered his resignation, but was induced by Sir Henry Norman, the then Governor, to reconsider this. McIlwraith said he would reintroduce the bill in committee, and make the recalcitrant members swallow it. He did reintroduce it, those previously against it voted for it, and it was carried by a majority. Thosemembers who were compelled to stultify themselves did not forgive the Premier, and showed their resentment when the opportunity arose.The money collected by the tax was utilised in improving the main roads to the railway, and when I was in that district some years afterwards I saw these cleared two chains wide through the affected districts.CHAPTER XIV.In 1889, the Morehead Government had put on the Estimates £1,000,000 for unspecified railways. This the Opposition, led by Sir Samuel Griffith, strongly opposed. The sitting developed into a stonewall of 96 hours' duration. The Government withdrew the item at 10 p.m. on a Saturday night. Previous to its introduction, I had paired for the session with an Opposition member, as I was anxious to return home to review my business operations, and did not suspect any party measures.At the opening of the 1890 session, I caught a very severe cold in Brisbane, which developed into "La Grippe," and I was confined to my room for seven weeks. During this time the Morehead Government introduced a "Property Tax," which met with strong opposition from McIlwraith—who was still in the Cabinet—and his supporters, of which I was one. Morehead carried his proposals by two. He felt that this majority did not justify his continuing in office, so he retired. The coalition between Griffith and McIlwraith followed. Both knights offered me a position in the Cabinet as Honorary Minister, but as I was to be considered as a Central member, I declined the honour. The House adjourned for two months. I decided to visit my electorate to inform my constituents of the position, and at a meeting in Winton they endorsed my action. I returned to Brisbane overland by coach,viaBarcaldine, thence rail to Jericho, and by coach to Blackall, Tambo, Augathella and Charleville, and on to Brisbane by rail. This route was in consequence of the maritime strike, through which all steamers were laid up.
Sir Thomas McIlwraith
Sir Thomas McIlwraith
The manager of one of the banks, who was deservedly popular owing to his genial character, the kind way in which he could refuse one an overdraft, and then suggest quite friendly and cheerfully to the applicant: "What do you think; shall we put the gloves on?" This gentleman had a very peculiar hobby, to attend the sick and dying, and to bury the dead.Some incidents connected with his hobby, are as follows:—A tank sinker from Ayrshire Downs died in the hospital. That day a new warder and his wife, who came from beyond Boulia, were put on. The doctor's instructions were that any person dying of typhoid fever, as did the man in question, was to be taken out of the ward and buried as quickly as possible. Immediately the man died, the wardsman was taking the body straight into the morgue, after sending word to the blacksmith, who was also the undertaker, to come up, and remove the body straight away for burial. Some of the patients, seeing the body being carried out, verbally assisted the new wardsman with their suggestions. Thus, the dead man was to be washed, shaved, and have a clean shirt put on. It was late in the afternoon; the wardsman did not like handling the corpse, so the story goes, that he got a bucket of water and a mop, and mopped the body down. This he left on the table in the morgue, and forgot all about the clean shirt or the shaving. There was an understanding between the police sergeant and the bank manager that as there were no clergymen of any denomination in the town, the sergeant would read the services for the Roman Catholics, and the manager for all others. The undertaker-blacksmith would notify the reader required, and funerals were carried out at any hour, day or night. The tank sinker's funeral was timed to leave the hospital about 12.30 a.m. For some reason the bank manager attended this funeral. The body was then in the coffin, and a start made for the cemetery. There were some of the dead man's mates present, and the bank manager heard them complaining that it was a d——d shame to bury a man naked. When the funeral reached the graveside, the idea struck the manager that, as he was wearing a clean, white shirt, it would be the proper thing to open the coffin, put his shirt on the corpse, and this was done. The action gave great pleasure and satisfaction to the men present, who, as a mark of gratitude, on return to town, wished to knock up the public-house people and shout drinks for all hands.
One night there was a funeral at which the manager was to read prayers. The undertaker in this case had a small cart, used as a hearse, drawn by a mule recently broken in, and not too quiet. As the funeral party was walking to the cemetery in the dark, some one struck a match. This was too much for the mule, which bolted across the plain at the back of the cemetery. He reached the edge of a small gully and propped. The weight behind, however, forced him over the bank. The coffin fell out, and the top coming off, the body rolled out on the ground. After extricating the mule, the body was put into the coffin again, and the top put on, the nails driven home with stones. As the mourners objected to the further use of the mule, the party carried the body to the cemetery much to the disgust of the undertaker.
Going home from Winton one night after a spree, a boundary-rider from Ayrshire Downs got off his horse a few miles out, and fell asleep. He woke up some time in the night, fairly sober, and found his horse gone, so he started to walk, but having got off the road, perished midway between the 20-mile and the Cockatoo dam, well-known places on this road. The bank manager was assisting in the search for the lost man, and happened to be with the police when the body was found, which was buried on the spot. The dead man's wife lived in Toowoomba, and as the manager had been remitting money from her husband to her, he informed her of the latter's death. She acknowledged the letter, and expressed a wish that the body might be dug up and brought into Winton for decent burial. She asked how long the body would have to be buried before the flesh would be off the bones and the remains could be brought in. The doctor advised it would be fully six months. At the end of this time the widow arrived in Winton to carry out her desires. Early one Sunday morning the widow, accompanied by the bank manager and the undertaker, left town to exhume the remains. The party had a white table-cloth in a red gin case with the cover on to carry the bones. It was anextremely hot day as the party reached the grave, and hobbled the horses out. The manager related "that he and the undertaker soon had the bones upon the cloth in a nice little heap. The widow examined each bone as it was laid down, and she missed one of the knee-caps, so nothing would pacify her until it was found. This we did eventually by rubbing the soil between our hands and breaking the lumps. It was now near dark. We had arranged for the priest to be at the cemetery by sun-down, and that the grave would be ready. When we arrived about 10 o'clock at night the priest and the grave-digger had gone. I then suggested that we should take the bones in the box to Lynett's hotel, but the landlady wouldn't hear of the remains being left at the hotel. Eventually we left the box and the bones in the grave. The priest came out the next morning, and having read the service, the remains were buried decently, and the widow was happy."
The manager of one of the stations had died at the North Gregory hotel. The body was immediately carried into the manager's private quarters, at the rear of the business part of the bank. The accountant was seen shortly afterwards protesting against the room, which happened to be his, being used as a morgue. He is to this day certain that from the spot where the hand of the corpse struck the wall as it was being put down, knocking may still be heard on the anniversary of the incident. This bank manager was possessed of great energy and perseverance, and a business capacity seldom met with. He was highly respected and extremely popular with everybody high and low throughout the western country, but he is now the head of one of our principal industries. I often wonder if he still has the inclination to bury people.
Our firm had been supplying goods and spirits to a storekeeper at Boulia, whose P.N.'s for a considerable sum of money were not met. Early in 1884. I decided to go out to look into matters. I was accompanied by a Mr. Howard, who was onthe look out for a hotel. On my arrival at Boulia I found that the storekeeper had erected a building as an hotel on a piece of land which he had made several promises to purchase. I found the owner, bought the land, and claimed the building erected upon it. This I considered as equal to the money owing to us. Thos. Lynett, of Winton, had started a branch store in Boulia, and had been supplying the same customer with goods on credit, having the building as security. When he heard that I had purchased the land and claimed the building, he wired to Brisbane to stop the sale. However, nothing came of it. I sold the property to Mr. Howard, and it was not long before he was able to wipe out his indebtedness.
Mr. Eglinton, late P.M. in Brisbane, then held a similar appointment at Boulia. A race meeting, which included a hurdle race, was being held. In this race all the horses baulked at the jumps and delayed the running. It was then decided to let the races wait while the visitors had lunch, etc. The judge joined our party. It was a hot day, even for Boulia; refreshments were generous, and in demand. The judge, in common with the visitors, was a thirsty soul. When we next turned our attention to the course, a race was being run, so the judge decided to get into the box. A grey and brown horse had negotiated the hurdles and were coming up the straight neck and neck. When they passed the post the Judge decided that the piebald horse had won. During my stay at Boulia I camped, by the invitation of Mr. Coghlan, the manager at Goodwood Station, just across the Burke River from the township. Mr. Eglinton, P.M., and Mr. Shaw, manager of Diamantina Lakes Station, were also guests, and we were glad to retire to this retreat after the uproarious happenings incidental to western towns during race time.
Before leaving, the P.M. asked Mr. Shaw and myself, who were both magistrates, if we would take a "didemus potastatum" to Monkira, about 100 miles down the river from DiamantinaLakes, and swear in Mr. Debney, the manager, as a Justice of the Peace. We consented; it was an excuse for seeing more of the country, and for a longer outing.
After a few days spent at the Lakes, we started with my team and buggy, accompanied by Mr. Shaw's little daughter. We reached Davonport Downs, then managed by Mr. McGuigan. He told us there were several very heavy sand hills to negotiate, and offered the loan of a pair of staunch heavy buggy horses. He suggested leaving my horses to spell. I accepted the offer. Shaw and myself took it in turns to drive. At one of these sand hills the horses stuck Shaw up, and refused, in spite of his persuasions, to budge. After giving them a spell, Shaw suggested I should take the reins. I had prepared my whip with a new cracker, but failed to start the horses. I then addressed the horses in the language of bullock-drivers, and stood up in the buggy to more effectually use the whip. The horses started, and I kept them going. Just then a small voice was heard from the back seat of the trap, "Mr. Corfield, will you please remember there's a lady in the buggy." Shaw and I immediately retired into our boots, but the horses gave no further trouble.
At that time I think Monkira was the farthest station down the river. Mr. Debney had come from Adelaide. He and Mrs. Debney gave us a splendid reception. The governess to the family afterwards became Mrs. R. K. Milson, of Springvale, and her eldest son lately was married to Miss Morgan-Reade, of Winton. On our return to Davonport Downs, we found Mr. McGuigan laid up with fever, so I took him into Winton.
In November, 1884, Sir Thos. McIlwraith, who had been inspecting his stations, passed through Winton, but while at Ayrshire Downs he received news of his father's death, and refused all demonstrations. I drove him to Vindex. On the road out I told him I contemplated leaving for England the following year. He gave me many hints for my guidance;also a letter of introduction to his brother, William McIlwraith, in London.
The western country was now suffering from a very severe and prolonged drought which brought ruin to many men, and heavy loss to those who pulled through. Taking advantage of the dry spell, I had a small tank excavated in my paddock. A heavy thunderstorm, averaging a little over two inches, fell over the town, and being anxious to learn if it had any water, I asked two friends to walk with me to the tank. We plodded about a mile in the heavy soil. I was satisfied with the result of my inspection; not so my companions, who lost their shoes in the boggy ground, and heaped anathemas on me and my dam.
Altogether their language on the return journey was of a very lurid nature.
This was the first rain for eleven months, and to celebrate it, Winton held carnival for three weeks, during which time no business of any sort was attempted. The time was devoted to sports and jollifications. About two miles east and west of the town ran wire fences, the road passing through gates. The peculiarity of this storm was that no rain fell beyond the fences. It was a strange sight to see green grass on one side of the wires and outside perfectly bare.
I have somewhere in this narrative alluded to lignum, and it may not be out of place at this juncture to describe what it is. Lignum is a small shrub which grows in the dry-water courses. It is much used as walls of houses—timber and iron being very expensive—roofing sheds, and such like. It does not keep out the rain, but is sun proof. With the thermometer running well past the 100 deg. in the shade, a roasting hot wind such as obtains in the western country, there are many worse pleasures to be enjoyed in the west than a lignum shed and a canvas bag. of cool rain water. Had old Omar known of the canvas water bag, he would prefer to sing its praises rather than those of a jug of wine. Blessings on the man who first thought of it
In April, 1885, I left Winton by coach on my way to England. Mr. J. D. Wienholt, of Warenda Station, and Mr. J. B. Henderson, late Hydraulic Engineer, were fellow passengers. About 10 miles from Muttaburra we were met by a cavalcade of people on horse back and in buggies to meet Mr. Henderson. The coach having stopped, some bottles of champagne were opened, and Wienholt and I were invited to join in. Mr. Henderson accompanied the procession to town. Later in the day we were invited to the dinner to him, to celebrate the completion of the town dam and tank, which were still quite dry. Muttaburra had not had rain for nearly a year. Mr. Henderson left us here to be conveyed by private buggy to Aramac, where we again met. I travelled down the coast from Rockhampton by the old "Keilawarra," afterwards sunk in a collision.
The Russian war scare was on, and passing Lytton we had to undergo a strict examination to prove that we were not spies. It can be imagined with what prayers a number of sunburnt, outback Queenslanders paraded to satisfy the defence authorities that they were peaceful and law-abiding citizens. I remained three days in Brisbane, the evenings of which I spent at the Exhibition, which was frequented by ladies and gentlemen indulging in the pleasure of roller-skating. I resumed my journey to Sydney, and left this city by train a few days later for Melbourne. This was my first visit to the latter city, and I enjoyed perambulating through its streets. I joined the s.s. "Sir John Elder" here, and sailed for England.
Passing through the Red Sea, we met the New South Wales contingent returning from Suakim, where they had joined theImperial troops, just too late to take any active part in the Soudan campaign.
When we reached Lake Timsah, half-way through the Suez Canal, we were detained because of a dredge having sunk in the Canal and blocked the channel. A party from the ship, having its headquarters at Shepheard's Hotel, was formed to visit Cairo and the Pyramids.
The dinner at 9 p.m. was held in a quadrangle of the hotel.
The after-dinner scene was very charming. Chinese lanterns were hung in the trees, the ladies in evening dress, the officers of the Imperial Army in mess dress of different colours.
Among those present were Lord Wolseley and General Macpherson.
Coming down the Pyramid of Cheops, I had an Arab holding each hand, and a boy with a gourd of water behind. The boy had unwound his cummerbund to place under my arms by which to steady me in jumping down from one ledge to the other. Half-way down I suggested a halt, when one of the Arabs accosted me—"Which fella country you come from?" "America?"
"No!"
"England?"
"No!"
"Australia?"
"Yes!"
"Ah!" he said, "very good kangaroo, you!"
We visited all the places of interest, including the battlefield of Tel-eh-kebir.
We reached our ship, which was still blocked in the Lake. The French people in Ismailia sent their launches out to the ships, so we continued putting time in going ashore every day and riding on donkeys. These animals were generally called afterbeautiful women celebrities. Mine was called "Lillie Langtry." When we got clear, 40 steamers were blocked. Our ship led the procession through the Canal. There was only just room for us to pass where the accident had happened, and when we leached Suez 200 ships, including several men-of-war, were awaiting our arrival to pass south.
We spent a day at Naples, and in time I arrived in Plymouth Sound in mid-summer, having left it 23 years before in mid-winter. As I had accepted an invitation to visit my cousin, Mr. S. P. Newbery, who resided at Plympton St. Mary, six miles out from Plymouth, so I left the ship. This relative was land steward to Lord Morley. He had been selected to judge the cattle at the Royal Agricultural Show at Preston, Lancashire, and I accompanied him. The warm, genial weather added to my enjoyment. We took up our quarters at Blackpool, as there was no accommodation to be had in Preston. The Prince of Wales (late King Edward the VII.) attended the show, and Mr. Newbery was appointed to show him round. I followed as if in the Prince's retinue, and enjoyed the novelty of the situation. Returning to Devonshire I spent a glorious time keeping my cousin's horse in condition, and occasionally following the hounds. Whilst there I made a trip to the Isle of Wight, and was present in Fotheringham Church when Princess Beatrice was married to Prince Henry of Battenburg. I need hardly say I was not present by invitation.
During my stay at Plympton St. Mary, the 1886 elections were held, and my relative being in politics a conservative, took an active part in the return of Sir John Kennaway (who died a few years ago, father of the House of Commons). Mr. Newbery was chairman of many of his meetings at which I attended. A polling booth was at the school house at Plympton, and on the day of the poll, I was much amused to see gentlemen's carriages being driven to the poll with the coachmen and footmen in livery, and men in their working dressstepping out to vote. Presently a Devonshire farmer drove up in his donkey cart. I noticed the donkey was dressed in the Liberal colours. The farmer recorded his vote, and came out on the porch, when he was accosted by another farmer, thus:—
"Wull! Farmer Symes, you been an' voted?"
"Yus," he replied.
"Wull, but how's this, I allus thocht ye was a Conservative?"
"So I be."
"But look at yer dunkey ther' all dress'd up in the Liberal colours?"
"Ah!" he said, "I'm a man, but that's an ass."
On returning to London I delivered my letter of introduction to Mr. William McIlwraith, by whose kindness I met many leading business people, as well as Lord Randolph Churchill, who appeared to be built up of fine live wires.
I left England in May, 1886, taking my passage through Cook and Son,viaAmerica. From New York I made trips to Baltimore, Philadelphia, and Washington. After a week or so I joined the overland train for Albany, visiting Niagara Falls, and other interesting places in that locality. Going on to Chicago, I spent a few days visiting the meat works. Wonderful energy had been shown in re-building the city after the destructive fire which happened a short time previously. From Denver I travelled by the narrow gauge "Denver and Rio Grande" line to Utah. Here I spent a week amongst the Mormans, who are a remarkably industrious and energetic, as well as peculiar people. One of the elders introduced me to a daughter by his tenth wife. I had frequent dips in the Salt Lake, in company with the Mormans, their wives and families. The water of the lake is so buoyant that one might throw up one's hands and remain upright. The body would sink only to the chest.
The trains were crowded with men belonging to the grand army of the Republic who were going to San Francisco, where the 20th anniversary of peace, after the Civil War was to be held. The Americans were all very friendly to me. I was invited to join them, and as I was much sunburnt easily passed as one of the veterans.
I took up my quarters at the Palace Hotel, which occupied about four acres of ground. I believe it was at that time the largest hotel in the world. I managed to get a room at four and a-half dollars a day. When I entered it I could see nothing but "Corfield." There were mirrors all round excepting where the furniture stood. In the quadrangle, just below my balcony, a band played continuously.
'Friscowasen-fete. Arches were erected in Market Street, and bunting was flying everywhere. I spent a week in the city, having for a companion a young doctor, for whom I had brought a parcel from his parents in England. He obtained alocum tenens, and gave up the time to pilot me round. We visited every point of interest, including the Chinese gambling dens, in and around 'Frisco, which has a very interesting history dating from the time of the Spanish missions.
On the trip across the Pacific we had a nice complement of passengers. A day at Honolulu was spent enjoying the beauty spots. We tried to call on the "King," but as he was enjoying a carousal, he could not receive us. We called at Apia, in the Samoan Islands, and when crossing to New Zealand, we noticed that the sea was covered by what appeared to be pumice stone. On our arrival at Auckland we heard of the eruption of Mount Tarawera. Mr. Rutherford, a gentleman well-known throughout N.S.W. and West Queensland, the principal of Cobb and Co. in Australia, was a passenger with his daughter from 'Frisco. I accompanied them during the three days the boat remained in Auckland. Shortly after our arrival at the Star Hotel, Mr. Rutherford, who had picked up a "Queenslander," said to me,"Who is driving the coach from Muttaburra to Winton?" I said, "Macpherson." "Well," he said, "he won't drive it long when I get back." "Why?" I asked. "Well, here is a paragraph in this paper, which says he capsized the coach in Elderslie Street, opposite your office."
We duly reached Sydney in August, 1886, and after spending a week there, I sailed for Rockhampton, and proceeded to Peak Downs Station, which my brother-in-law, Edmund Casey, was then managing for the Messrs. Fairbairn. I found he had broken in to harness for me two Arab ponies which would trot their 12 miles an hour. I trucked these and a buggy I had purchased in Sydney to Alpha, the then terminus of the Central railway line, where my other horses—brought from Winton—met me. Good rains had fallen in July, thus breaking up the long drought which had commenced three years before. I had plenty of grass and water all the way to Winton. I camped a night at Mount Cornish, and met Mr. and Mrs. Edkins for the first time for 20 years, having last met them on the Flinders River when they were on their honeymoon trip, as I have already related. They now had quite a large family, and made me very welcome. I arrived at Winton driving four grey horses, the two Arabs Mr. Casey broke in for me being splendid leaders.
A few evenings after my arrival I was the guest at a smoke concert given by the Dramatic Club in Steele's hall in my honour. Mr. Dodd, postmaster, the president of the club, was in the chair. There was some fine speeches, and a splendid display of wit and repartee. On entering the room, my attention was attracted by the drop-scene on the stage representing the Catskill Mountains in America. The members had given a rendering of "Rip Van Winkle," previous to my leaving for England. The scene was a daub of colours with a hole cut in the sky, to which a piece of calico had been affixed at the back to represent either the sun or the moon, I forget which. On returning thanks to the toast of my health, I relatedmany of my experiences since I left them in 1885, but apparently I made a hit when I described my sailing up the Hudson River from New York. Seeing a mountain in the distance, with numerous houses here and there, the afternoon sun shining and throwing different shades over mountain and river, I inquired from a fellow passenger if he could tell me the name of that beautiful mountain? He replied the "Catskill Mountains." I said, "Are you sure?" "Sure enough," he said. "Why?" "Well, because I have seen a painting of it in Steele's Hall at Winton, and it's not a bit like that." The laughter that followed easily made me feel at home with the company during the remainder of a very pleasant evening. Dr. Hawthorne made a great hit in his speech in explaining the anomaly of a bashful Irishman.
I found many changes had taken place during my seventeen months' absence. The Schollicks' had left Oondooroo, which had become the property of Messrs. Ramsay Brothers and Hodgson, with Mr. M. F. Ramsay as manager.
Winton also had grown quickly. TheWinton Heraldnewspaper, with Mr. Maxwell as proprietor, was issued as a weekly.
Roller skating was the rage. I remember one afternoon when passing the Court House, I went over to see what was causing a noise there. Looking through the window I saw all the benches stacked on one side, and the police magistrate practising on skates. He had a pillow strapped at the back of his neck, and another on a lower portion of his body for buffers. He stumbled, and I saw the use for the pillows.
The growth of grass in 1886 occasioned extensive bush fires in the end of this and the beginning of the following year. A very large fire occurred at Vindex. I called for volunteers to join in putting it out. The call was readily responded to, and I headed a large party composed of all classes of men to assistthe station hands. By our combined efforts we succeeded in putting the fire out, but not until it had burnt many miles of country. In those days there was no ill-feeling between labour and capital, or employers and employee. All united to work for the common good. Subsequently the same generous help was extended to Elderslie and Ayrshire Downs Stations.
In 1887, I can say the residents of Winton were as if all were of one family. They made their own pleasures, at which all classes were welcome, and invitations were unnecessary. This proved one of the happiest times of my life.
The new owners of Oondooroo were developing their property regardless of cost. Amongst the many innovations introduced by them, but which now have become necessaries, was the system of private telephone lines over the run. In connection with this system was an ingenious idea, something like a compass card, by means of which bush fires were located, and which saved a great deal of unnecessary work and riding. With the exception of Norman, the youngest, who went "west" in France during the late war, I believe the Ramsays are still in the land of the living. It is a pity that Queensland is the loser by not having more men of the same high character as the Ramsay's, of Oondooroo.
In November, 1887, John Bartholomew, who was travelling manager for Cobb and Co., asked me—as their Winton agent—to accompany him to Croydon, to which place he was bound in connection with some coach accident which had occurred in that district, and I accepted the invitation. We travelled by coach to Hughenden 150 miles, thence down the Flinders to Cloncurry, distant 265 miles, and on to Normanton, 240 miles.
This latter portion was completed under great difficulties, the early wet season necessitating our working day and night to keep contract time. On our way we saw where a bullock-dray loaded with explosives had been blown up. How theexplosion happened was never known, but after it occurred nothing remained of the bullocks; some of the iron work of the dray was picked up a mile away.
Before we reached Normanton we were reduced to three horses, and the rains having been heavier, we were continually digging the coach out of bogs. At dark oneeveningI walked on to lessen the load, and on crossing a plain I saw a log on the side of the road on which I decided to have a rest. I sat on it in the dark, and feeling something move, I put my hand down on the cold, clammy tail of a snake. His lordship evidently had his head in a hole, or might have bitten me. The shock gave me increased energy, and I reached the groom's change at 10.30 p.m. The coach arrived an hour later. We were all thoroughly done up, and had a supper of stewed galahs. The stage-keeper was without flour.
When we arrived at Normanton we were in a sad plight from our rough experiences. The next day Bartholomew and myself were the only passengers on the coach for Croydon. Unusually heavy rain had fallen during the night, and the road was bad. We reached Creen Creek, half-way to Croydon, that evening. Here we met the coach from that place on its way to Normanton. The driver of this coach gave a bad account of the road ahead. It was decided that Bartholomew and the driver should ride, and pack the mail on horses to Croydon. Mr. Bartholomew arranged with the other driver to take me back to Normanton. The coach was full, and I had to sit on the splash board with my legs hanging over the two mules which were in the pole. We had not gone far before we got into a bog. The three horses in the lead were floundering so much that we had to take them out, but the mules stood quietly up to their bellies in the soft ground. The passengers were all males and turned to. By levering the wheels on to the cushions, we got the coach on hard ground again. This happened so often that I decided to walk on. I came upon a bullock team loaded withtimber, bogged. With it was Fred Shaw, who at one time was connected with Cobb and Co., and who was taking the timber to Croydon for building. I offered my help to get the waggon out of the bog by assisting the driver on the off-side with a whip. We succeeded after some time, but not without the use of some language.
In soft ground bullocks will stand up to their middle chewing their cud whilst a clear passage is being cut through for the wheels, and if once got to pull together they will invariably get through. Mules are practically the same, hence Cobb and Co. using them. The moment a horse loses his footing he commences to plunge about, and so turns the ground into liquid in which he has no footing.
The coach camped at a wayside place that night. I walked on in the morning; the coach overtook me eight miles from Normanton, into which I rode, and was glad to reach the hotel and comfort once more.
During the week spent in Normanton waiting the return of Mr. Bartholomew, and also the arrival of a steamer, I made the acquaintance of Mr. Forsyth, who was the resident manager for Burns, Philp and Co., and later on sat in Parliament for many years.
At Thursday Island there was no jetty, so our steamer anchored out in the channel. Here Mr. (now Sir Robert) Philp joined us from a tour of inspection of the company's branches. He had not long before been returned at a bye-election for Musgrave. When leaving, he and I boarded the steamer in a boat belonging to the company, with a black crew dressed in white shirts, which gave them quite a picturesque effect. On reaching Cairns, Mr. Philp included me in his party to go by rail to Redlynch, the then terminus of the line. The construction of the line up the range towards the Barron Falls was then going on, but we were unable to view the Falls.
On our trip down, Mr. Philp mentioned that the McIlwraith party would require a representative for the Gregory in place of the late Mr. Thos. McWhannell. He hinted to me that probably my name as successor would be acceptable to Sir Thomas McIlwraith. I replied, "I know nothing of politics, and have no desire to take them on."
I remained over Christmas in Townsville, and arrived in Winton to celebrate the new year of 1888. Election news was the absorbing topic.
I asked Sir Thomas McIlwraith by telegram who was the party's accredited candidate, giving certain names which were spoken of. He replied, "Know nothing about the gentlemen mentioned; why don't you stand yourself?" Mr. J. B. Riley, of Vindex, happened to be in town. I showed him the wire, which he took, and went away.
In the beginning of March, Mr. Riley, accompanied by others, presented me with a requisition to become the McIlwraith candidate. This was signed by nearly all the inhabitants of Winton and pastoralists of the district. When handing it to me, Riley said, "Now, I give you two hours to consult your partner, and give me your decision." After consultation with Mr. Campbell, my partner, I assented to the request, and called a meeting of the electors, which I addressed in the Court House in April, 1888. I then started in my buggy alone to hold meetings at the different stations. At Elderslie one was held at the woolshed, where I had a bale of wool as the platform. At Vindex, the meeting was held in the blacksmith's shop, I standing on the anvil block of wood, and so on.
Finally, when the nomination day came round, I was the only candidate. So I was returned unopposed.
During the Easter holidays in April, 1888, a cricket match, Countryv.Town, was held at Vindex Station. At any rate, this was the name under which invitations were given by the Rileys,Chirnsides, Ramsays and Bostocks to the townspeople of Winton, as an expression of the goodwill and friendship which then existed among all classes throughout the district.
Vindex was noted for its hospitality at all times, but it now excelled itself.
A lot of school-boys could not have enjoyed themselves more than did the many grey heads among the company. Woe betide any one, host or guest, who shirked, or did not join in the fun. A visitor from town tried to do so by fixing a nice quiet camp far away from the hurly burly. His actions were observed by the postmaster, who put his bull dog in the visitor's bed, instructing the animal not to allow any one into it. When the visitor who shirked, tried to retire for the night the bull dog tackled him, tore his pyjamas off, and left him as a subject for much raillery.
One visitor who had arrived from Rockhampton the previous day, was found wandering in the vicinity of the big dam, where he said he was enjoying the salt ozone.
The country won the match easily, but I think they took advantage of the town.
This will be understood from the fact that a dozen bottles of whisky, and a two-gallon jar of the same medicine were brought on the ground for refreshments. The town went into bat first, and by the time their innings was finished, so were the refreshments.
When returning from the Court House with my £20 deposit after the nomination, I was way-laid by Sergeant Murray, of the police, who in oily sentences of congratulation suggested that I should give half of the money towards the erection of a Roman Catholic church, then about to be built. I succumbed to his flattery, although my own clergyman was daily expected, and my name was coupled with Father Plormel, the resident priest, on a piece of paper, and inserted in a hole in one of the blocks underneath the building. The church has been enlarged since, and I heard that the paper with our names, and those of the members of the committee, was found in a good state of preservation. This Sergeant Murray was a man of great dry humour and shrewdness.
One day I was speaking to him, when one of two partners in a racehorse came up, and told us he and his partner had a dispute; the latter had the horse in his possession, in Lynett's stable, the door of which was secured with a padlock and trace chain. Murray asked him, "Why don't ye lock him up?"
"Hang it all, the horse is locked up already; what is the good of my locking him up?"
"Well, as your partner has the horse locked up you can't get him out, and if you lock the horse up, then your partner can't get him out."
"Oh, I see," said the owner, and immediately bought the lock and chain.
This advice was so novel to us that we all visited the stables and were amused to see two locks and trace chains to prevent the removal of the horse by either partner. It proved a commonsense way of settling the dispute in a few hours, and the partners became better friends afterwards.
On reaching Brisbane to attend the House, I interviewed Sir Thomas McIlwraith, who, after congratulating me on my return, said:—"I intend to put down an artesian bore at Winton." I asked if I might make use of this. He replied, "Well, it rests on me and my party being returned to office."
I felt certain that this would follow, so I wired to Winton that I had been promised an artesian bore. The town was painted red on the news.
At the opening of Parliament, Sir Samuel Griffith, seeing 45 members to his 27, resigned the Premiership, and Sir Thomas McIlwraith was sent for by Sir Anthony Musgrave. On the House meeting again within a few days, Mr. Albert Norton was unanimously elected speaker, and Sir Thomas McIlwraith asked for two months to construct his ministry. This was granted.
I returned to Winton, and on arrival was accorded a typical western reception for obtaining the promise of an artesian bore for the town. At this stage it was only a promise, but the residents had such faith in McIlwraith that they accepted it as a fact. Parliament assembled in July with Sir Thomas McIlwraith as Premier.
In the early part of the year a bush fire broke out on the road to Ayrshire Downs, and parties were organised to extinguish it. The police preceded us, and noticing fires springing up further on, decided to push ahead to ascertain the cause. They saw a man near the lighted grass with a box of matches in his hand, and arrested him on suspicion. When brought before the Police Magistrate, the man was charged under the English Act against arson.
Through correspondence with the Attorney-General, it was learnt that the English Act applied to artificial, and not tonatural, grasses. The offender was discharged with a caution, as the evidence was really only circumstantial.
Shortly afterwards he was caught red-handed firing the grass on Warenda Station, on his way to Boulia. He was brought before the Boulia justices, who sentenced him to three months' imprisonment under the "Careless Use of Fire Act." This was the maximum penalty that could be inflicted. On completion of his term the grass-burner was liberated, and vowed he would burn the whole of the d——d squatters out.
The pastoralists hearing of it, put men to watch him through their respective runs.
I returned to Brisbane with the intention of defeating his designs. On interviewing McIlwraith, he advised me to see Mr. Thynne (who was then Solicitor-General), and explain matters to him, adding:—"Thynne will draft a clause for you in the 'Injuries to Property Act.' You can bring in the Bill for the Amendment yourself." I did so, and found I was saddled with an amendment of an Act of Parliament without any previous knowledge of procedure. However, through the kindness of Mr. Bernays (the clerk of Parliament), I was instructed in this, and successfully carried through the second reading of the amendment to the Act.
Under this a man found burning natural grass may be prosecuted under the "English Act against Arson," which meant a maximum of 14 years' imprisonment.
In committee, Sir Samuel Griffith suggested I should insert a clause whereby it could be tried at a District Court, and so prevent witnesses having to attend a Supreme Court, held on the coast. The Bill, with this addition, went through committee. I was informed by Mr. Archer, M.L.A. for Rockhampton, that this was the first occasion in Queensland for a member to navigate a Bill through the House in his first Parliamentary year.
I thought I had completed my work with the Bill, but was surprised when Mr. Bernays asked me whom I had selected to take it through the Council. I asked the Hon. William Aplin to pilot it through, and the amendment to the "Injuries to Property Act" was assented to on the 23rd of October, 1888.
On the second evening after my arrival I sauntered in the Botanic Gardens to kill the time to dinner at 7 p.m. Being a stranger, I was ignorant that the Gardens were closed at 6 p.m. I noticed that the few people I had seen on entering had entirely disappeared. As the dinner hour approached, I went to the gate and found it locked, as were the other gates I tried to pass through. Continuing my walk, I found an opening in the hawthorne hedge, which separated the Gardens from the Domain, in which Government House was then situated. I crawled through, and when I reached the lodge gates, I was asked by a policeman stationed there, if I had been to Government House?
I said, "No."
"Then where did you come from, my friend?"
"From the Gardens."
"And how did you get here?"
I then explained the circumstances.
"Where do you belong?"
"Winton."
"What's your name?"
"Corfield."
"Yes, is that so? What are you?"
"I am one of the new members of Parliament." Then the blarney came out.
"Pass on, Mr. Corfield, your face would carry you anywhere, sir."
And so ended the incident.
In 1888, £50,000 was put on the Estimates for sinking artesian wells, and a contract entered into with a Canadian company to sink 7,500 feet at certain specified places. Wellshot Station was selected as one, to encourage private enterprise, to try for water at great depths.
When at Winton, early in 1889, I was handed a telegram from Mr. Henderson, the Hydraulic Engineer, advising me that the sinking of the well at Wellshot had to be abandoned, and as carriers were not procurable at Barcaldine to take the plant to Winton, it had been decided to send it to Kensington Downs.
I immediately called a public meeting, and laid the matter before it. The meeting decided that I should go to Barcaldine the following morning. Owing to accidents to the coach, and want of sobriety at several of the coach stages, we were very much behind time in arrival. I found that I could obtain carriers to take the plant to Winton at a reasonable price, and wired the Engineer, but, although I remained a week in Barcaldine, I did not get even an unsatisfactory reply from that officer.
I now received a hint that there were influences at work to prevent the plant going to Winton, and to send telegrams through another place. I arranged a long explanatory wire to Sir Thomas McIlwraith, to be sent from . . . . the operator at that place cutting off Barcaldine while the message was being sent, and the following day I was authorised by the engineer to arrange with carriers for the transport of the plant to Winton.
It was very pleasant to witness the chagrin of the local people when they learnt how their engineering was defeated.
I learnt now that some Brisbane ladies did not possess politeness, as one of them sat on my hat when it was on my head, and did not apologise. It happened in this way. In those days the Brisbane trams were drawn by horses. I wishedto go to Ascot. When near the Custom House I saw a two-decker car just leaving. A lady was mounting the steps to gain a seat on the top. I ran and caught the car, following the lady up the steps. At the turn of the road the driver gave the horses the whip, they jumped forward, the sudden jerk caused the lady to lose her balance and her grip of the hand-rail. She sat on the hat on my head. The article, a hard felt, was pressed down with her weight. The sides opened up, and the rim fell down and became fast over my nose. I saw stars, but not the lady's face. The conductor assisted to dislodge the hat from my nose, and I left the car to purchase a new hat. Probably, I saved the lady's life, but she continued her way to the top, apparently treating the accident as an every-day occurrence. I was unable to make a claim for damages to my hat or self respect.
Mr. Tozer (the then Home Secretary), was a lover of deep-sea fishing, and I frequently accompanied him in his excursions. One Friday, when the House was not sitting, I accepted an invitation to join him in a trip to a new fishing ground. I joined the "Otter" at the Queen's Wharf at 2 p.m. Our party comprised Captains Pennefather and Grier, John Watson, M.L.A., and Messrs. W. H. Ryder, A. A. McDiarmid, Primrose and myself, besides the officers and crew. We cruised along Moreton Island and caught sufficient fish for our tea, after which we retired to our bunks, and the steamer made for the Tweed Heads. About 3 a.m., we were awakened by the cry of "Fish Oh!" On reaching the deck we found the officers and crew hauling in schnapper as fast as they could bait their hooks. We were all soon engaged in the same sport. Each line had four hooks on, and the fish were so plentiful that often when a line was pulled up with, as one thought, one big fish on it, there would be three or four, some hooked through the eye, others by the tail. We fished until 8 a.m., and found on counting we had 1,100 fish aboard. Tozer had caught the highest single catch of 155, whilst mine, the smallest number,was 79. The sailors cleaned as many as they could on our return. When opposite the South Passage we sent a boat to the Lighthouse to wire Brisbane for any person wanting fish to meet the boat at the wharf, and to bring bags with them. Many did so, but all could not be taken away, and a quantity was dumped into the river. This was the record catch of the season, and I have never heard of it being beaten.
At this time, and for a few years afterwards, I had as partner in a small pastoral property, a Mr. Wm. Booth. He was said to have been mixed up with some troubles connected with Irish affairs, and that the name he went under was assumed. Whether this was so or not, I found him to be a fine, straight-forward man, and was greatly affected when in 1894 his charred remains were found on the run. The mystery of his death remains undiscovered. On his death I wound up the pastoral partnership, and placed the value of Booth's interest in the hands of the Curator of Intestate Estates. Every effort was made to discover his relatives, but so far, I believe, his estate remains unclaimed.
To those interested in constitutional law, the Kitt's case, which occurred in 1888, may prove interesting. This incident happened in connection with a pair of boots, but from it was obtained the decision that the Governor should follow the advice of his ministers on matters not affecting the authority of the Crown. It was laid down that they were responsible for giving the advice, not he for accepting it. The incident was a small matter to define a very important point.
I think it was about this time that the police were called upon to act in opposition to the Naval Forces of the State, under the following circumstances. The Naval Commandant of the time had a disagreement with the Minister administering the Navy, and ordered the two war vessels, the "Paluma" and "Gayundah" to put to sea, contending he was under thecontrol of the Admiral in charge of the station, and defied the Minister. Steam was up on the vessels, when a rather large body of police, fully armed, was marched down to the Botanic Gardens, and lined the river banks ready to fire on the ships if they were moved. Meanwhile, the wires were at work. The Admiral disclaimed control over the vessels, as it was a time of peace, and the Commandant retreated from the stand he had taken. The matter quietened down, but the Commandant shortly afterwards retired from the service of the State.
Mr. W. Little, more popularly known on northern goldfields as Billy Little, represented the electorate of Woothakata in the Assembly. When speaking on the railway which it had been decided should start from Cairns to Herberton, he argued, "S'help me G——, Mr. Speaker, they are building a railway at Cairns over a mountain, down which a crow couldn't fly without putting breeching on." The simile convulsed the House, but did not affect its decision.
During this session I could not but admire the patience and courtesy with which Sir Samuel Griffith treated all, even his opponents, after he once expressed himself on a measure. Time and again he would point out defects, which his legal mind detected in the wording of Bills, but which were not perceptible to the ordinary lay mind.
In 1889, when the Estimates were being formed, Sir Thomas McIlwraith insisted that £40,000 should be put on for building a Central Railway Station in Ann Street, Brisbane. His colleagues dissented, holding the view that the then existing station would serve for a generation, or longer. McIlwraith resigned the premiership, but retained the office of Vice-President of the Executive Council.
Mr. B. D. Morehead succeeded him as Premier, but there were no other changes in the personnel of the Cabinet.
During the recess of 1890, I left Winton in March, after a good, wet season, to make a tour of my electorate, visiting the townships and stations throughout the district, and going close to Lake Nash, over the border of the Northern Territory.
I held meetings at the places visited, covering a distance of 1,600 miles, yet I was unable to visit the whole district.
At Glenormiston, one of the stations visited, the blacks had just returned from the Mulligan River, where they had procured their season's supply of "Pituri." This is obtained from a small bush, and when prepared for chewing, has an effect similar to opium. The "pituri" is much prized by the blacks. It is prepared for use by the seeds being pounded up and mixed with gidya ashes, which the gins chew until it obtains the proper consistency. It then resembles putty, and when not being used as chewing gum is carried by the blacks round their ears. If the native offers one a chew it is a sign of friendship and hospitality. This friendship was offered me, but declined with thanks. I obtained a small bagful of the seeds, intending to give them to Mr. Bailey, Curator of the Brisbane Gardens, but I made other use of it. I was compelled to make easy stages on account of the heavy pulling. The season was bitterly cold; camping on the open downs with no shelter was not pleasant.
The distance from Boulia to Springvale is 80 miles, the only traffic along it being the pack horse of the mailman once a week. One of the places I camped at was known as Elizabeth Springs. This spring is a circular hole of about three feet in diameter, in which warm water is continually bubbling up. The overflow runs into Spring Creek, and runs for 15 miles, emptying into a large hole opposite the head station. A peculiarity of this spring is, if one jumps into it, the force of the water causes the body to rebound like a rubber ball, and small particles of sand coming up with the water causes a stinging sensation. The depth of the spring is unknown.
About 40 yards from this spring there is another hole, the water of which is quite cold, and of an inky colour. This hole has attributes opposite to the other, that is—a body will sink quickly in its water. The blacks have a tradition that a gin jumped into it, and was never seen again. These springs are on Springvale run.
On arriving at the station, I found Mr. Milson was out mustering, but Mrs. Milson, who remembered me at Monkira some six years before, made me very comfortable. I left the following morning to cover the 37 miles to Diamantina Lakes Station. When I reached the Gum Holes, on the boundary of the two runs, I decided to camp. Mr. Milson turned up here, and from him I learnt that the Diamantina River, which was about seven miles ahead of me, was uncrossable, and that it was running about four miles wide. He instructed me that when I reach the river, I was to go to a high ridge two miles back, and make a large bonfire at night. I arrived at the river the following day, when my man and I employed ourselves the whole afternoon in getting wood, which was scarce and some distance away. The closer timber had been used by the mailman to attract the attention of the station people in flood time, as we were to do.
The station was about eight miles from the ridge, and we had great trouble during the night to keep the fire burning. The next afternoon Mr. Shaw, the manager, came across in a canvas boat, and camped the night with us. It was arranged I should return with him in the boat and leave the man with the horses, as it was impossible to cross them. We were out of meat, so Mr. Shaw promised to send some to the man the following day. We started on our four-mile pull, Shaw with the sculls, and I in the stern to steer the canoe. In the shallow water between the channels we had to be very careful, as patches of lignum were showing above the water, and our boat being only canvas, a slight prick of the lignum would perforateit. However, we made the crossing safely, and arrived at the station at sun-down. I was very glad to get comfortable quarters once more, and Mr. and Mrs. Shaw and their family treated me right royally.
After a stay of five days we found the water had gone down and left several islands visible between the channels. When the flood allowed we started, taking a long, strong piece of rope,provisions, and about ten black fellows. Shaw and I paddled the boat containing the rope and provisions. The black boys swam the channels, and carried the boat across the islands, where we walked. We arrived at my camp in the afternoon, and prepared for an early start on the morrow. Whilst I was away a mob of travelling cattle had come to the camp. The men had killed a beast, and were making a boat of the hide to carry their saddles and provisions across. The mosquitoes that night were something to be remembered, and my man looked as if he had measles.
We had a good breakfast at daylight, and then commenced crossing in the following manner:—Some of the boys would wade into the water until it was up to their waist. I would then drive the buggy and four horses up to them, unharness the latter, putting the harness in the boat to be rowed to dry land. The boat would then return for the provisions and every movable article in the buggy. The horses were then swam over, after which the rope was attached to the axle of the buggy and run along the pole, a half-hitch being tied at the point. When all were across, and the rope brought over by the boat, all hands would pull the buggy across. It would, of course, soon disappear beneath the water, and at each disappearance I wondered if I should see it again. Had the pole caught in a stump, the probability was that it or the rope would break. However, we got it safely across the channels, which varied in depth up to 25 feet of water. It was quite dark when we reached the station, all tired out. The black boys behavedsplendidly, so I gave them the "pituri" intended for Mr. Bailey. This gift they prized far more than money or tobacco. The next evening I held a meeting at the station, and resumed my journey up the river the day following. Travelling was now easy, the road being good, with plenty of grass and water for my horses. Meeting one's constituents in a western electorate is not a short, pleasant picnic.
A rather serious crisis arose during the early part of this session (1890). McIlwraith introduced a measure to levy a tax on all wool exported over the border to New South Wales and South Australia.
The intention of the bill was to divert the trade of southern and south-western Queensland to the Queensland Railways. The pastoralists of those districts obtained supplies, and sent their wool from and to the southern Colonies, where the rates were lower than those charged over the Queensland lines.
McIlwraith's argument was that Queensland was heavily taxed for the construction and maintenance of these lines; that this Colony was also incurring excessive expenditure for administrative purposes, and if the pastoralists would not give Queensland the necessary revenue towards these services, it should be forced from them.
The bill provoked heated arguments from McIlwraith's supporters. The Opposition looked on with some interest, anticipating a Government defeat. The bill passed its second reading by the casting vote of the Speaker. I voted with the Government. McIlwraith promptly tendered his resignation, but was induced by Sir Henry Norman, the then Governor, to reconsider this. McIlwraith said he would reintroduce the bill in committee, and make the recalcitrant members swallow it. He did reintroduce it, those previously against it voted for it, and it was carried by a majority. Thosemembers who were compelled to stultify themselves did not forgive the Premier, and showed their resentment when the opportunity arose.
The money collected by the tax was utilised in improving the main roads to the railway, and when I was in that district some years afterwards I saw these cleared two chains wide through the affected districts.
In 1889, the Morehead Government had put on the Estimates £1,000,000 for unspecified railways. This the Opposition, led by Sir Samuel Griffith, strongly opposed. The sitting developed into a stonewall of 96 hours' duration. The Government withdrew the item at 10 p.m. on a Saturday night. Previous to its introduction, I had paired for the session with an Opposition member, as I was anxious to return home to review my business operations, and did not suspect any party measures.
At the opening of the 1890 session, I caught a very severe cold in Brisbane, which developed into "La Grippe," and I was confined to my room for seven weeks. During this time the Morehead Government introduced a "Property Tax," which met with strong opposition from McIlwraith—who was still in the Cabinet—and his supporters, of which I was one. Morehead carried his proposals by two. He felt that this majority did not justify his continuing in office, so he retired. The coalition between Griffith and McIlwraith followed. Both knights offered me a position in the Cabinet as Honorary Minister, but as I was to be considered as a Central member, I declined the honour. The House adjourned for two months. I decided to visit my electorate to inform my constituents of the position, and at a meeting in Winton they endorsed my action. I returned to Brisbane overland by coach,viaBarcaldine, thence rail to Jericho, and by coach to Blackall, Tambo, Augathella and Charleville, and on to Brisbane by rail. This route was in consequence of the maritime strike, through which all steamers were laid up.