[Picture: IN THE TROPICS]
When driving to the hotel we were struck with the deserted appearance of
the streets, as very few persons were seen during our three miles' ride
from Sandridge. It did not occur to us that this arose from the
earliness of the hour, our day having commenced about three A.M., when we
began to make preparations for landing; but, as will be seen, the fact
became of startling significance to us. While waiting for breakfast I
took up the newspaper, and had not proceeded far before I came to an
article headed "The Black Death in Melbourne." This article gave a
detailed and circumstantial account of the progress of the disease, which
was stated to have been raging for the past four or five weeks. Among
other things, the article stated that the number of deaths had become so
great that it was impossible to dig separate graves; that the bodies were
placed in trenches, one being dug each day; that all who could leave the
city had fled; and that the mob had surrounded the Town Hall, demanding
to see the Mayor and Corporation, who, however, had already disappeared.
Getting alarmed, we rang for the waiter, and asked him how we could get
to Adelaide. He naturally enough seemed surprised, as we had only just
arrived. I told him it was too bad he had not warned us of the state of
the city, and of the existence of the plague. The man looked astonished.
I asked him if there had not been great illness and mortality in the
city. He answered that there had been a few cases of measles, and a
whooping-cough or two, and that six people had died during the last week
from these causes. I began to suspect we had been "sold," and was about
to pass the paper to him when I caught sight of an asterisk placed
against the heading, and on looking at the foot of the column saw that
the article was written as a prediction of what would happen in Melbourne
within 100 years unless sanitary matters were at once attended to.
Melbourne is a city of fine broad streets, handsome public buildings,
splendid shops, and vast warehouses. Indeed, a stranger cannot fail to
be struck with its metropolitan-like character. Only forty years ago the
site on which it stands was a mere swamp with a few log huts; now its
population is about the third of a million souls. For this population a
series of educational institutions of an unusually high character have
been founded, and are in active operation. The Free Library, which we
visited, is a handsome room, and seems in every way well adapted to the
requirements of a large number of students and readers. We were
impressed with the quietude which prevailed, notwithstanding that the
room was well filled with readers, most of them apparently of the artisan
class. The Art Gallery is a free institution, and contains a very fair
collection of good paintings.
The Natural History Museum, which by the way is really a museum of
general science, is a truly magnificent institution. Very fine
collections are here classified in a manner which, while perfectly lucid
to the student, is also in strict accordance with the views of modern
scientific authorities. We noticed particularly a good collection of
sedimentary fossils, well preserved and fairly comprehensive. A fine
meteorolite weighing 30 cwts., a portion of one weighing four tons which
fell in Victoria a few years ago, is a prominent object near the
entrance. This museum, in common with the Art Gallery and Free Library,
is the resort of vast numbers of students, and it is cheering to be
informed that the working classes largely avail themselves of the
advantages thus provided for them.
As in the other Australian colonies, education here has been taken up in
a vigorous and thorough manner, and the State schools are a credit to the
colony. Although the population of Victoria is under one million, we
observed in Melbourne a school bearing the inscription No. 1465. But
with all this liberality and foresight, a strange blot exists in the
educational course, for the study of history is, in deference to the
prejudices of a portion of the population, absolutely interdicted. It is
impossible, however, that this absurd concession to ignorance can long be
endured. In leaving Aden on one occasion I began to have doubts as to
whether geography was also excluded, for a young man, son of a well-to-do
squatter, hearing me speak of Suez, asked which end of the canal that
town stood at; and another youth, in passing the island of Candia, said
he always thought _Canada_ was somewhere in America.
Happily, no fears exist in Australia as to the policy of thoroughly
educating the people; on the contrary, it is commonly recognised that the
future prosperity of the State--indeed its very existence--depends upon
the universal diffusion of education.
At the time of our visit party feeling ran very high in connection with
the doings of the "Berry" Ministry, and as extraordinary personalities
were nightly being indulged in by both sides in the House, we went one
evening to hear a "debate." The regular business seemed to be conducted
as well as it is at Westminster, but it was curious to see the careless
way in which the members, in brown holland or yellow silk coats, lay
about on the sofas, or lazily lounged off to the table for frequent
draughts of what was said to be iced water. The shouts, cries, and
interruptions were very unseemly, much worse than anything we had then
experienced, giving us a very low opinion of the representatives of the
people. One honourable member, in the course of debate, hurled a heavy
tome across the house at the head of one of his opponents with crushing
effect, while another member characterised the smile of the Minister of
Lands as being such as to "sour all the milk in the colony, and to take
the varnish off all the mahogany in the house." This compliment the
Minister lightly parried by remarking that anything coming from the son
of a cabbage hawker could not affect him.
The Melbourne legislators evidently do not believe in having "all work
and no play," they have consequently provided themselves--of course out
of the public purse--with billiard tables, and, with a spirit of rare
generosity and thoughtfulness, have made the parliamentary reporters for
the Press free of the rooms.
With such provision for their comfort, and with handsome salaries paid
them for their services by a grateful country, what wonder that there
should be considerable competition for seats within the walls of the
Victorian House of Parliament? and with what feelings of commiseration
must they regard their brethren of New South Wales, who, when one of
their number recently proposed to imitate the example of Melbourne in the
matter of billiard tables, were reminded, in unmistakable terms by their
exacting constituents, that they were sent to Parliament to work and not
to play! And what makes the matter harder for the Sydney legislators is
the fact that, unlike their Melbourne friends, they are not paid for
their services.
The question of the payment of Members of Parliament has acquired
considerable interest in England of late, mainly in consequence of Mr.
Chamberlain's declaration in its favour; and it appears not unlikely that
at no distant date it may be carried into effect. There are two modes by
which the object in view may be attained;--either by a general charge
upon the Imperial Revenue, or by each constituency paying its own
representative; in either case the amount of salary would be determined
by Parliament; and, if the latter course be adopted, its payment would be
made obligatory. In Victoria the salaries are paid direct from the
Treasury, and those who have seen how the system works are the least
enthusiastic in its favour.
Time was, when to be a Member of Parliament was looked upon as a certain
way to repair a broken fortune, or to make a new one; but since the days
when George III., of pious memory, taught his Ministers how to corrupt
the Parliament, a seat in that assembly has not been considered to be
pecuniarily advantageous. But in some of the Australian colonies the
case is different, politics being looked upon, to a great extent, as a
trade or profession, and very largely because of the salary attached to
the position of Members of the Legislature.
One of my customers in Victoria, who had long owed me 50, told me he
would soon be able to discharge his debt as he had been nominated for
Parliament, and would pay me out of his first quarter's salary! It is
only fair to say that, although he failed to secure the seat, he
nevertheless paid his debt.
The Houses of Parliament stand on a slight elevation, and though still
unfinished, promise to be a magnificent pile of buildings, of which many
an old-established country, with far greater pretensions than Victoria,
might well be proud. The Great Hall, a sort of ante-chamber to the
Houses, impressed me as much as any building of the kind I had ever seen.
It is about 180ft. long, by 60ft. wide, and 60ft. high, without
galleries, seats, or anything to detract from its magnificent
proportions. The whole surface of the walls and roof is covered with a
beautiful enamel-like cement, brilliantly white and polished quite
smooth, the floor being of white marble, and a superb white marble statue
of the Queen in the centre. The whole effect is startlingly beautiful.
I subsequently went over the Town Hall and Council Chamber, but these are
much inferior to corresponding buildings in Birmingham. The councillors
wear cocked hats and gold-braided coats, and the aldermen black stuff
gowns or robes.
I have already spoken of the tension in party politics at the time of our
visit. This was seized upon by the theatrical people, who produced an
adaptation of the burlesque known in England as "Happy Land," the
principal characters being Mr. Berry--the Premier, the man with the
caustic smile, and another prominent member of the Administration. On
the morning of the day on which the first representation was to have been
given, a Cabinet Council was hastily summoned, and the question gravely
debated as to whether the safety of the State, or at any rate the
Cabinet, would not be compromised by tolerating the performance. It was
quickly and unanimously decided to prohibit it, and this decision was
announced. Such a universal storm of ridicule was thus aroused that the
infatuated Berryites were driven to reconsider their course, ultimately
licensing an emasculated version of the play, with all the political
references erased. The newspapers, ever alive to the chance of turning a
penny, and showing up an opponent, published the original _in extenso_,
and when the performance began large numbers of the audience had copies
before them. When an excised passage was reached, the actor or actress
would pause, and, holding up the hand, whisper audibly, "Hush!
prohibited," giving time for those with copies to read the obnoxious
reference. For days after people in the street would, on meeting, put up
the finger, and greet each other with "Hush! prohibited." The Government
were overwhelmed with ridicule, and were glad to compromise with the
persons they had so injudiciously provoked.
During the summer Melbourne is occasionally visited by what are called
"hot winds." They blow from the north, and derive much of their arid
character from coming over the great wastes of the interior. We were
unlucky enough to experience one of these hot winds, and we subsequently
learned that the shade temperature had reached 117--as high a point, I
believe, as any that had previously been recorded in the city. It is no
exaggeration to say that while exposed to the wind it felt like the hot
blast from the cupola of a foundry when iron is being melted. The
clothes were little or no protection against its scorching influence.
The air was filled with choking clouds of dust, which penetrated
everything and everywhere. In the evening, however, the wind fell off,
leaving the temperature very high.
The sanitary arrangements in Melbourne are extremely defective, and to my
mind fully justify the writer of the article on the "Black Death," which
so much startled us on our arrival there. There is literally no system
of sewerage, the whole drainage of the town running by the side of the
pathways in wide ill-paved channels, crossed by wooden foot bridges. The
whole runs into the river Yarra. In heavy rains these channels become
surcharged, and the lower-lying streets are flooded with diluted sewage.
On such an occasion I was crossing one of these gutters, when a
street-sweeper approached, holding his cap in one hand and his broom in
the other, and asked me to remember "an old shipmate, your honour." I
soon recognised him as our old friend "Tall and Fat". I could not help
looking surprised, whereat he assured me he had found a most excellent
berth as a street-sweeper--that none but gentlemen were engaged in the
"profession," all being Oxford or Cambridge men--the wages being 7s. per
day. I asked after his friend "Short and Stout." He said he held a
similar appointment at an adjoining corner, and he promised to share my
gratuity with him.
The country between Melbourne and Ballarat is flat and somewhat
uninteresting, but near the latter city it becomes more hilly and
diversified. Ballarat is a well-built city, containing about 40,000
inhabitants. A few years ago there were 10,000 more, but in consequence
of the alluvial gold becoming exhausted a considerable exodus took place.
The streets are wide, and have trees on each side; in some there are
trees in the middle as well. The houses are substantially built of stone
or brick, and altogether it has the air of being a busy and prosperous
place.
We visited one of the gold mines, and as we approached the office saw
three persons coming towards it, one of them carrying a parcel, which
appeared to be heavy. It proved to be a brick of gold weighing 33 lbs.,
and worth about 1,200, being the result of one week's working. We were
shown the various processes of obtaining the gold from the quartz, and
were rather surprised at the somewhat primitive character of the
machinery employed.
[Picture: Gold Mine, Ballarat]
Several of the companies with big-sounding names occupy spaces of only
60ft. by 50ft., and yet yield substantial returns. One such little patch
is part of the Church land, and is called "Hallelujah Claim," in honour
of the Church. The total value of gold raised in Australia up to end of
1879 was 275 millions sterling.
One of the prettiest features of this handsome city is a fine sheet of
water called Lake Wendouree. This lake is about a mile across, and lies
in the crater of an extinct volcano. The Botanical Gardens are on the
farther side of Wendouree, which has a fine boulevard round each side
leading thereto. On the lake are several pretty little steamers, which
make frequent excursions. In the evening they are provided with coloured
lamps, and music and dances may be enjoyed by the passengers. Ballarat
is less than thirty years old, yet has quite an old-world appearance. It
is a charming city and well worth a visit, and we were well pleased to
have seen it.
A favourite excursion from Melbourne is to the Black Spur Mountains,
about two days' drive from the city. Leaving Melbourne the route passes
through some miles of suburban villa residences with beautiful gardens.
After about ten miles "the bush" is reached, and continues for the
remainder of the journey, relieved here and there by a clearing or by a
little village. The term "bush" must not be understood as scrub, furze,
etc., but all kinds of uncultivated land, thick forests, and open
country. A curious feature of colonial life is to see in full operation
the old stage coaches, so long ago discarded in England. They are
painted a brilliant red, and indeed appear to be the veritable machines
used in the "good old days when George the Third was king." They are
frequently drawn by six or more horses, and, true to their ancient
traditions, now and then have a spill, for roadmakers in the Colonies
have the same habit as their English brethren of making short "right
about turns" at the bottom of steep hills. We drew up at a small wayside
inn, intending to bait the horses, but found it was closed, owing to the
death of the landlord. This man was a large wine grower, and his
vineyards extended for a considerable distance round his house. After
passing through many miles of country under vine cultivation we pulled up
for the night at a little village called Healesville, where a very
miscellaneous company sat down to a substantial repast, ending with what
the waiter called a "soafler." The light being dim it was difficult to
see what the dish really was, and curiosity being awakened, inquiry
elicited the fact that it was intended for a souffle. The hotel being
quite full of visitors, two of our party had to sleep in the parlour on
sofas of the horse-hair order. The landlord, coming in to see if we were
all right, informed us we could not have our boots cleaned in the
morning, as his man was just then out on a boose. A colonial friend
travelling with us remarked that it was "awkward when master or man took
to boosing." Our friend had previously told us that the landlord was
generally "on that line." "You never saw me boosy!" said he. "_Never_!"
retorted our friend, with peculiar emphasis, which summarily stopped the
discussion. We were awakened early in the morning by the screams of
laughing jackasses and the crowing of cocks. Our toilette was performed
somewhat under difficulties, one of us having to use the piano as a
washstand, and another being constrained to go through the same operation
in the open street under the hotel verandah. Our route now lay over a
steep hill, through a forest of gum trees, the fragrance arising from the
latter in the early morning air being delightfully refreshing. The main
roads are kept very fairly, a certain number of men being told off for
each section at 9s. per day wages. The old corduroy roads, formed by
laying trees across the track and filling the interstices with earth, are
being gradually superseded by Macadam. The men seemed to work in very
leisurely fashion. We were to have breakfasted at a cottage on the road,
but when we arrived there found that the old lady who kept it had gone to
a ball at some village public-house, several miles away, as also had the
owners of all the other cottages along the route. A little girl left in
charge told us that after the ball all these good people were going to
the funeral of the wine grower and innkeeper previously mentioned, and
our friend told us they would doubtless stay there to comfort the widow
as long as there was any wine left in the house. We soon after entered
the region of the big gum trees and of the tree ferns, and a wonderfully
beautiful sight it was.
[Picture: A Big Tree]
The whole valley is filled with tree ferns, and the fronds, in many cases
being new, with the sunlight falling upon them, formed a picture not soon
to be forgotten. Some of the gum trees were enormously large--we saw
several 15ft. in diameter and over 200ft. in height--but these were small
when compared with some found in the less frequented parts. In the midst
of such surroundings lies the pretty little village of Fernshaw. When we
were first invited to spend a week at the country house of our friend we
rather unreasonably pictured in our minds an English country or seaside
residence, and anticipated much pleasure in the change from dusty
Melbourne. Our surprise was great, therefore, when after jolting over
some half-formed roads we came upon a clearing among the gum trees, and
were told that the wooden shanty before us was the Melbourne citizen's
country house. We were not disposed, however, to be very critical, for
the sixty miles drive in the mountain air had made us hungry, and we were
quite ready to respond to the invitation to the evening meal. But our
disillusion was complete upon entering the sitting room and finding that
no provision had been made for the satisfying of our keen appetites. By
some accident the supplies from Melbourne had not arrived; the rough
table was covered with a couple of towels, and on it was spread a repast
consisting of some bad bread and sour raspberry jam, while the "cup which
cheers but not inebriates" was innocent of milk and sugar. It was
Saturday evening and we were "out of humanity's reach," being many miles
from any source of supply, so had to content ourselves as best we might
with this Spartan fare until the Monday, when our host proposed an
excursion to a distant part, involving the staying a night at an hotel.
We gladly embraced the proposal, and finding that the hotel was a
comfortable one I determined to excuse myself from joining in the
excursion on the following day in order that I might have the opportunity
of recruiting nature's exhausted powers by an extra meal, a resolution I
had much satisfaction in carrying into effect. Our friend and his sons
own about one thousand acres, at present covered with trees, with the
exception of a small clearing round the house. When a piece of land is
taken, the first care is to fence it, which is done with logs, at a cost
of 25 per mile, including the cutting of the logs. The next step is to
"ring" the trees--that is, to cut a deep groove round them, and so by
killing them prevent any further exhaustion of the soil. The trees being
dead, vegetation rapidly springs up, and there is soon abundance of food
for cattle. Clearing the ground of trees and stumps is a very costly
operation, and takes many years to finally accomplish. The Government
with a view of preventing the accumulation of lands in a few hands,
refuse to sell more than 320 acres to one person, but of course this is
easily evaded. At the time of our visit the price was 1 per acre,
payable in ten years by equal instalments, a condition being that some
one should reside upon the allotment. At the end of three years the
owner can obtain from Government a lease of the land, and can then pay up
the full value, which leaves him at liberty to sell if he wishes to do
so. Of course the building up of large estates is thus encouraged, but
this could, perhaps, be prevented by imposing a tax on every acre. The
20,000 acre men would soon be compelled to dispose of some of the land
which they hold in the expectation that it will increase in value. Such
a plan has been proposed, but it naturally met with great opposition from
the landed interest.
[Picture: On the Black Spur]
Leaving our friend's house a drive of a few miles through the bush
brought us to the picturesquely-situated village of Marysville. This
little village lies in a deep hollow surrounded by fine ranges of
tree-clad hills of extreme beauty. A pleasant hour's walk from the
village, under the shade of the tree ferns, took us to the Stephenson
Falls. The principal fall is 80ft., and the volume of water is unusually
large for an Australian waterfall. Close to the fall are some
magnificently large tree ferns, and while sitting here enjoying the
lovely view some little birds came flitting about, one of them hopping on
to the shoulder of one of our party, attracted, doubtless, by the aroma
of a fragrant "weed" which at the time he was enjoying. English visitors
to Australia, especially those in search of health, would find the
conditions existing at Marysville most conducive to their restoration.
The air is bracing, and as before stated, the scenery most delightful. A
tolerably good accommodation is to be had at the inn, which will
doubtless be improved as the place becomes more widely known.
Returning to Melbourne, we stayed another night at Healesville, arriving
at 7.30, and as we had fared badly during the day we were quite ready for
a substantial dinner, and from our previous experience of the house made
no doubt of obtaining it. But unfortunately for us, there had been a
chapel tea-party during the afternoon, at which a large force of parsons
had been present. We had therefore to be content with a tough, woody
steak, a wild duck of ancient and fish-like smell, varied by salted
mutton. The butter was rancid and full of dead flies, and the bread
appeared to have been cast upon the waters. We had to go to bed feeling
quite faint, but hoping for a better breakfast. The beds were good, and
we should have had a good night's rest, which we sorely needed after the
twig beds of the previous night at the Marysville Hotel, but the
partitions between the rooms being only of half-inch plank everything
passing around us could be heard all too plainly. A little after
midnight some fellows came in from night-fishing, and going into the room
next ours woke us up by a great noise. One old donkey was telling the
two younger ones he had had a deal of experience among snakes, killing as
many as eight a day for many years, and that as the result of a series of
experiments during that time he had found an infallible cure for snake
bites. He had offered his discovery to the Government for 1,000, and his
partner offered to be poisoned by the most deadly snakes to test its
efficacy, but all to no purpose. So he had determined to let the secret
die with him. The others asked if the sovereign remedy was to be
swallowed. "Oh, no," said the old fellow, "for it is composed of five
deadly poisons. You must first cut out the wounded part, and rub the
antidote in. But," added he, "the secret shall now die with me." "But
how about your partner?" asked the others. "Won't he tell the secret?"
"Oh no," was the reply; "he's safe enough, for he's dead." Then we heard
the voice of the landlord's pretty daughter telling them it was time to
go to sleep, upon which the old boy growled, "I wonder people can't go to
sleep without bothering me." The rest of the night was made miserable
for us by the two "night fishers," who, rising long before dawn, went
prowling about the different rooms, ours included, collecting their
tackle for a shooting expedition, but leaving behind them, as we found
afterwards, their percussion caps.
[Picture: The Lyre Bird]
We returned to Melbourne by another route, affording us some fine views
of the plains called Yarra Flats, and the Marysville Hills in the far
distance.