"They that stand high have many blasts to shake them."
--Richard III.
"Hear ye not the hum of mighty workings."
--Keats.
"Stay, you imperfect speakers."
--Macbeth.
We commenced with an unpretending budget, although memorable 1853, with
all its gold and its progress, in what Wentworth happily called the
precipitation into a nation, had dawned upon us. The Speaker of our then
single Chamber system--one-third nominees--had but 400 pounds a year,
which is guide sufficient to indicate the scale and style of other
things. Our first choice for Speaker fell upon Dr. Palmer, an early
colonist of the medical profession, and of good culture and bearing, but
who had not previously taken any prominent social position. His ambition
was probably stimulated by the fact that amongst the busy colonists, who
perhaps foresaw more work than either honour or pay, there was no
candidate but himself. The rest of us speculated, not without expected
amusement, as to the official attire our new dignitary would appear in.
Probably any other of the elected members, as Speaker, would have
decided on simple evening dress, as most consistent with the modern
tendency to make a gentleman plain, and the waiter and footman dressily
conspicuous; and this would perhaps have decided as to "the Chair" in
that respect for all the future. But Palmer we all knew to be too much
of the old Tory for any surrender of that kind, and there was, besides,
just a trace of the oddly positive in him, although otherwise a genial
good fellow, which held out promise of sport. We were only half
gratified. He appeared in a plain quaker-like but much braided coat,
which was understood to have gone for dress in the good old times of
Charles II.--a time when kings were really kings.
Three prominent subjects came before us for legislation. First, that
fundamental topic of interminable difference, the Land Question. Second,
the Goldfields Question, which was even more important then, seeing that
the Government, under pretence of old English law, to the effect that
all "treasure trove" was the Crown's, claimed the whole goldfields as
Crown territory, whose population had thus no rights, political or
fiscal, except the Crown chose to give such. Third, the Transportation
Question, which, under the startling emergencies of the moment, was
perhaps second to no other before us.
It was rather amusing to see how business went at first, for nearly all
of us were quite inexperienced in public life. But Mr. Barker, our first
Clerk of the Council, took bravely to his duties, and soon became a
useful referee. There was much looking up for authority, and O'Shanassy
indulged in many a profane joke at "May" having taken definitive
possession of Speaker Palmer's brain. One most decided obstacle to our
legislative progress was the fact that the vast incessant tide of
business thrust upon the colony made it hardly possible to spare any
time for other than each one's own private concerns. In my own case, the
only "leisure" I ever had then in the six days was half-an-hour for a
walk and a thought in the early morn. The entire remainder of the day,
and great part of the night also, were one succession of private
business, public meetings, and deputations, Council Committees and
Council sittings.
The unprepared speeches were in due accordance. Dr. (now Sir Charles)
Nicholson, the Sydney Speaker, happened to pay us a visit during these
early legislative throes of baby Victoria; and as I sat by him in the
privileged place near the Speaker's chair, he remarked that, prepared as
he was to find a crude spectacle, he had never imagined an assemblage of
such helpless incompetency. But, in defence, I took Bulwer Lytton's
view, that genius being mainly labour, and labour mainly time, the want
of the last might be merely preventing the first. And so it has turned
out long ago; so that if Sir Charles, who, I am glad to say, is still to
the fore, were to pay another visit, and try conclusions with Mr.
Service, and possibly a hundred others besides, he might reach a
different verdict.
We were all, confessedly, terribly raw in all matters of Parliamentary
form. One day, while we were more than usually puzzled in that respect,
Town Clerk Kerr, who happened to be present, was continually sending to
myself and others written slips, suggesting the proper or common-sense
course. I could not help thinking that, if he had been but a trifle less
of a party man, there was no one in the colony who would have made a
better Speaker, with his sufficiently portly person and commanding
presence, his imperturbable gravity, and his well-filled head in
everything required from that quarter for the position. But this was an
utter non possimus with the nominees and squatting members, most of
whom, with Ebden at their head, would almost rather have endured a
presentable Vandemonian expiree in the chair than the ultra-democratic
Town Clerk and caustic ex-editor of the anti-squatter and
anti-government "Argus". Some of the officials, however, were fairly up
to their mark, notably our Attorney-General Stawell (now Sir William,
the ex-Chief Justice), who, both then and since, has ever held the first
position in ability. At an interval came Auditor-General Ebden, and one
or two others, official or unofficial. My worthy friend Cassell,
Collector of Customs (or Commissioner thereof, as I think he was then
called), was brimful of information for us all, but not much of a
speaker.
The other side of the House, that of the two-thirds elected, was, in my
memory, raw throughout. O'Shanassy's strong brogue, and ungainly
delivery and manner, had not yet been overbalanced by the solidity of
his arguments. Johnson, our third metropolitan, had early descended, or
else condescended, to pungent snapping at the heels of the nominees, as
though these sacred persons had been ordinary mortals like the ruck of
membership on his own side of the table. By far our most vivacious
member was William Rutledge, of Port Fairy, who, with an earnestness of
manner, contrasting with a merry twinkle of the eye, and with a ready
but utterly negligent tongue, gave us many a laugh. He was highly
indignant on one occasion, as I remember, on hearing that a bet had been
taken that, on a particular Committee day, he would rise and speak more
than thirty different times; and he was still more angry when his
informant went on to tell him that the bet had been won. One of the
country members, whose name I am now not quite sure of, set us all in a
roar, on one occasion, by taking as a personal affront, and very tartly
too, as though quite intended, the interruption to his speech by the
arrival of a "royal" message from the Governor.
Another curiosity was the way in which the House adjusted itself for
legislative action. Almost as matter of course, under the instincts of
the position, the elected members were, in fact and in principle alike,
opposed to the nominated; and that, by consequent instincts, ever meant
simply the Government. The press, with similar unanimity, was on the
elected side, for both were in the fight for the full "constitutional"
concession, which came a few years later. In anything that touched
squatting, however, the squatting representatives, led by another old
friend, W.F. Splatt, of the Wimmera, went over bodily, thus giving the
Government a small majority, which, as I have shown in my sketch of Mr.
La Trobe, blocked us seriously in dealing with the waste or Crown lands
for the benefit of the inpouring tens of thousands of people. Sometimes,
by the force of our case, we stole a vote from the Ministerial side, as
when Mr. (afterwards Judge) Pohlman defected upon my anti-transportation
motion for transmission to the Home Government. There was one sole
exception on our elective side (another old personal friend), William
Campbell, of the Loddon, who, uncongenial towards the disturbing
democratic prospect, voted steadily for the Government. On this account,
Edward Wilson, then editing "The Argus", found for him the designation
of "the lost sheep of the Loddon," which, as from the enemy's side, was
no bad piece of humour; and it took its place in the colony's category
accordingly; alongside of Ebden's "disgustingly rich," and possibly
other like humour which I have forgotten.
One of the nominee members, Mr. Dunlop, took me roundly to task for
asserting that, through a mere "accident of law" about "treasure trove"
being, as of old, the property of the Crown, the Government claimed to
confiscate the constitutional rights of one-half of the colonists. I
"explained." But the situation really explained itself. The
common-sense, as well as the political attainment of the day, could not
possibly tolerate such an application of "Old Black Letter" to the
entirely novel and unanticipated circumstances of these great and
populous goldfields. The elected members were compelled to threaten the
only course which appeared legally open to them--namely, that of not
voting the supplies, if the goldfields regulations, and receipts and
expenditure, all of which the Government had claimed as entirely their
own independent matter, were not of reasonable and suitable character,
and in accordance with the colonial representatives' views. At the last,
however, there was happily mutual agreement.
The "Protection Question" was early brought on, of course from Geelong,
by my worthy old friend J.F. Strachan, its member, and both its income
and, for that time, its exit, were amusing. "Why lose so much revenue in
order to set up colonial brandy-making?" he was asked; "was the domestic
article we were to make such sacrifice for to be superior to the
imported?" "On the contrary," he replied; "it was because it would be
inferior, and must therefore be thus bonused against the superiority of
the rival import." So then we were to lose revenue, and pay a higher
price, in order to substitute bad liquor for good. Let us still keep to
the better quality at the lower price. So the proposal was laughed out,
Strachan himself, with his usual good humour, joining in the laugh.
It would be "supererogation" to go into our early legislation, which is
familiar to the colony in a hundred publications, besides the fact that
I have touched already on some of the prominent subjects or questions in
which I myself took a part, such as the movement against transportation,
the new and rather startling course in "The Convicts Prevention Act,"
and the first Gold Commission. I have therefore exhausted my subject, so
far as it is properly my own, and must hasten to take my leave. When I
first thought of this work for the delightfully complete leisure and
repose of a long voyage, I feared that I might find but little to say of
matters of a retrospect approaching two generations. But seated at last
with pen in hand, and with memory stirred up, I had ere long to exercise
mercy towards my expected readers, in sifting the surging crowd of
recollections, so as to keep to such as might have general interest. I
hope I have reasonably succeeded; and if I have also contributed, in
however small a degree, to the information, interest, or amusement of my
old friends and fellow-colonists, I shall be abundantly repaid.