GUILDFORD
Henley Park—Hunting—Mundaring Weir—Sir John Forrest—Darling
Nurseries—Kelmscott—Armadale—Jarrahdale—Whitby
Falls—Mandurah—Yarloop Mills—Harvey—Collie Coalfields.
One morning I drove to Guildford, 9 miles from Perth. Such a pretty
drive! The Swan river winds its way so far, and is there joined by the
Helena. The many farmhouses and crops of this fine agricultural district
impress one very favourably. About half-way there is a fine hotel and
good pleasure-grounds, called the Hotel Ascot, overlooking the river,
where much boating and fishing are enjoyed by the visitors patronising
the hotel.
Guildford is a pretty place, and, being so near Perth, is likely to
become quite an important town. There are some good residences near.
On Mr. Hammersly’s estate, called Pyrton, after the family estate in
England, is a fine house, standing amongst unrivalled scenery. The
scented foliage of the big gum-trees casts a grateful shade for the sleek
cattle, and in the sweet springtime almost every bit of ground is covered
with wild flowers of exquisite beauty. The Hon. H. J. Saunders’ estate at
Henley Park is a few miles farther on, with a very quaint-looking house
70 years old, and built of sun-dried bricks. The walls are nearly covered
with ivy, and woodbine runs over the fences. All kinds of flowers spread
their rich perfume around. The orchard is close by, the scented blossoms
of the various trees mingling their fragrance with that of the flowers.
Mr. Saunders has a large racing-stable, and takes great interest in
racing matters. The private training-track, made at great expense, is
a mile round, and looked like a smooth lawn; the stud flock of Romney
Marsh bred sheep had been feeding there for the previous few weeks. Mr.
Saunders’ racing-stables are recognised as the best in Western Australia,
and he has a small and select breeding-stud, including Leda by Trenton
and Lady Sylvia by Newminster. His racehorses are likely-looking animals,
especially Henley and Black Rock, which have some very good records. As
we drove back to Guildford the sun was just setting, and the country road
with its red soil contrasted well with the different greens of the trees
and fields, and with occasional waving crops, vineyards, and blossoming
orchards. Everything was perfectly peaceful, until, all at once, the
stillness was broken by a party of huntsmen returning from a good day’s
sport. One of them turned out to be an old friend, who told me that the
country around Guildford is excellent for hunting, and that there is a
very good hunt club. Our Australian poet, A. L. Gordon, writes:
“Here’s a health to every sportsman,
Be he stableman or lord;
If his heart be true I care not
What his pockets may afford.
And may he ever pleasantly
Each gallant sport pursue,
If he takes his liquor fairly,
And his fences fairly too.”
[Illustration: Hon. H. J. Saunders]
I put up at the Guildford Hotel for the night, and in the morning
thoroughly enjoyed the fresh fish caught for my breakfast in the river
close by. Some excitement was one day caused in quiet Guildford when,
some new works being in progress, some of the quartz boulders forming
the old foundation were dug up and carted elsewhere; a boulder fell from
the dray, and was crushed by one of the wheels; a glittering object
was noticed in the _débris_, and turned out to be gold; the quartz had
originally been taken from the Darling Ranges.
I went on to Midland Junction, 2 miles away, _en route_ to the Mundaring
Weir, from which source the much-needed river of water is to be taken
to the Coolgardie Goldfields. This gigantic scheme will cost two and
a half millions of money, but what a boon it will be to the waterless
goldfields, of which far-famed Coolgardie is perhaps the most waterless!
In spite of the croakings of those who are adverse to the scheme, Sir
John Forrest will, I am sure, be found right, and when plenty of fresh
water is obtainable at Coolgardie, so that the millions of tons of ore
waiting for treatment can be properly crushed, people will see that the
first Queen of the Goldfields is not yet dethroned.
The reservoir, where the waters of the Helena river will be stored by
hundreds of millions of gallons and then carried across the country to
the goldfields, is now in course of construction, and in two years a
river (so to say) of fresh water, yielding 5,000,000 gallons daily by
means of enormous steel pipes, 330 miles long and 30 inches in diameter,
will be flowing, and the Coolgardie housewives will be able to turn on
their taps for fresh water. A new era will then dawn for that beautiful
city, and its true prosperity begin. The sum paid yearly by the Railway
Department for water on its goldfields’ service would more than pay
interest on the cost of the scheme. The morning that I arrived at
Mundaring Weir the workmen were in a great state of excitement; their
residence blocks were being allotted. There were 130 applications, 6
of which were refused, the applicants not being considered desirable
residents. The Department will not allow an hotel to be established.
Work at the weir was progressing well. At the huge quarries masons were
working up granite into blocks. There is an almost inexhaustible deposit
of granite, and the chief engineer, Mr. C. Y. O’Connor, intends to form
the outer face of the wall with granite instead of using concrete, as is
generally done. One enormous dam, nearly finished, is to hold 10,000,000
gallons of water. The watercourse has been divested of timber, and the
appearance of the landscape thereby greatly changed. The weir, when
finished, will be 560 feet long, and will hold 4,600,000,000 gallons of
water.
[Illustration: GOVERNMENT BORE, NEAR MUNDARING]
The train that carried us back passed through miles and miles of
everlasting flowers. The ground on each side was covered with a carpet
of them. Acres first of white, then of pink, blue, yellow and purple,
charm the eye, and the kangaroo paw, standing up in its vivid hues of
crimson and green, added a still further charm to the scene. On we went
through the country robed in its spring garb of beauty, until we came to
Smith’s Mill, named after Frederick Smith, a young gentleman explorer in
1836, who died of exhaustion at this place after having shown courage and
endurance of hardship worthy of his cousin, Florence Nightingale. Here I
left the train in order to visit the Darling Nurseries, which, although
it is only seven years since they were first planted, are remarkable for
luxuriance. The trees, with their loads of fruit, were weighed down with
their own excellence. Thousands of citron-trees, 50,000 apple-trees,
peaches and nectarines in enormous quantities, plums, pears and prunes
in profusion, persimmons and other Japanese fruits were to be seen; and
as for the flowers, the scent of them was almost overpowering. The roses
were especially fine; all possible sorts seemed to be growing here.
The foliage of the English and Canadian elm-trees and poplars formed
a pleasing contrast to the forest vegetation around. It is only a few
minutes’ walk from the station to this charming place, which is but 16
miles from Perth; and any one wanting a change from the city should take
an afternoon and visit it.
Five miles from Mr. Hawter’s nursery garden is the Haughton Vineyard, now
owned by the Mundaring Wine Company. The vines grow at an altitude of
1000 feet above the sea-level. The wine is delicious. There is a notable
grape growing there called “Tarbinet Sauvignon,” from which is produced
the celebrated Lafitte claret. Mundaring seems to be a congenial home to
the vine, and its productive powers are of a high order.
Another charming place to see, 28 miles from Perth, is Kelmscott,
nestling in its bed of flowers. Everything looked delightful on the
morning that I went there. Nature never appeared more beautiful; it
seemed cruel to pluck the flowers from their beds and crush the sweet
grass with the horse’s hoofs. I felt almost like Mr. Ruskin, who was such
a passionate defender of nature that he would never pluck a flower. Two
miles from Kelmscott is another sweet little village called Armadale. I
put up at the picturesque inn and enjoyed a few days’ quiet rest among
the beautiful surroundings. The orchards, gardens, and vineyards here
are so many that it would take a whole book to describe them. Sir Arthur
Stepney and Mr. Jull own the largest properties, and have recently
equipped a vinery. Only a few years ago immense jarrah and cool white and
red gum trees stood in undisputed possession. Now fruits of all kinds
are growing in luxuriance. Oranges, lemons, and sub-tropical fruits
seem to flourish especially well. So do flowers; blue lechenaultias,
coral creeper, heaths of all colours, heliotrope, primroses, pink, and
yellow blossoms nestle in the grass. Lovely bouquets can be made from
the delicate grey smoke-flower and the pink immortelles, and will last
a long time without water. Six miles farther on we came to Jarrahdale.
As its name imports, this is the home of the jarrah-tree, and there are
large timber mills called the Jarrahdale Jarrah Mills, owned by a London
company with a capital of £300,000. This company have the advantage of
the fine harbour of Rockingham, where large ships call to convey the
timber to all parts of the world. There are five mills on this property.
I stayed at the town one night, and attended a concert got up by the
employées, which was quite enjoyable, many of them being really good
singers and dancers. There is a nice hall, built, of course, with the
handsome jarrah-wood, which polishes so beautifully that it looks like
mahogany. It never shrinks or warps, so that for a dancing-floor it
cannot be excelled. There has been a great demand from South Africa for
this wood, which is almost impervious to the ravages of time. Piles
that have been driven into the River Swan at the Causeway, and others
into the sea at Fremantle, have been taken up after 57 years and found
to be uninjured, having resisted the attacks of the sea worm. This wood
is one of the best for building purposes, for it resists the white ant
and is the least inflammable kind known; yet when burning it throws out
immense heat and makes splendid charcoal. There are many charcoal-burners
about who are making a good living. Iron bolts and nails driven into the
jarrah do not loosen from rust, and there is no doubt the jarrah is the
principal tree of the colony. It has come triumphantly through several
severe tests, and is now in great demand all over the world. The Golden
West does not depend on her mines alone, but, as Mr. Zeb Lane said last
year, “Make no mistake about it, the jarrah of Western Australia will
yet pave the streets of many of the leading cities of the world.” The
late Mr. Ednie Brown, Conservator of Forests, told me that there were
20,000,000 acres of timbered land in Western Australia valued by an
expert at £124,000,000. At present there are 50 sawmills in the colony,
employing over 4000 men, and still the demand is much greater than the
supply, so that there is a great opening for more capitalists.
Whitby Falls Lunatic Asylum is near Jarrahdale, and the poor souls who
inhabit it must, I am sure, find there a real haven of rest. The asylum
nestles in a sweet valley at the foot of the Darling Range, and the hills
make a grand background. Gardens, large fields and paddocks, with cattle
feeding, stretch all round, and close by is a magnificent orchard. Five
miles farther on are the famous Serpentine Falls, whose glittering
cascades falling among the big rocks and boulders, nearly covered with
scented foliage, then bubbling and rippling down the valley in joyous
frolic among the sweet flowers and ferns, form an idyllic picture. By
many this spot is called the “garden of the colony,” and certainly the
luxuriant ferns and flowers seemed to grow more beautiful at every step.
The blackboy and red gum trees grew more thickly than in any place I have
seen, and where those trees flourish everything seems to grow with extra
luxuriance. The blackboy is a most peculiar-looking grass tree, with a
rough thick stem and a crown of thick heavy dark green grass, looking
at a distance, especially in the twilight, like a real blackboy. The
gum from the tree is eagerly eaten by the natives and cattle. It also
exudes a resin from the stem, which is used for pitch in thatching the
native houses, or Mia-Mias, as well as for other purposes; these trees
burn brilliantly. The falls come rapidly down from the Darling Range
in picturesque cascades, falling over the crystalline rocks into pools
below, thence into the river. Twenty-six miles farther on is Pinjarrah.
To see this quiet little place now, one would not imagine that years
ago it was the scene of an immense native rising; that the soldiers and
mounted police had followed the aborigines for miles, and that here the
climax came, and hundreds of natives fell. Things are changed since those
days of bloodshed, and the few aborigines left do not seem to bear any
ill-will to the white fellow. An old native said to me: “I like white
fellow; he take all my land, but he make my house, and my big railway,
grow big corn, big potatoes; black fellow do nothing, white fellow know
everything, so white fellow do what he like—you give me sixpence?” The
black fellow always finishes up any conversation with that request.
Pinjarrah is on the Murray river, and the centre of a large agricultural
district, where plenty of splendid land is available for the selector.
Some economists say that population is pressing on the earth’s productive
powers, and that by-and-by there will be a dearth of animal food; yet
before mankind is starved out he can become vegetarian, as meat diet is
expensive compared with a vegetable one. It is said that twenty acres of
land are necessary to feed one man on meat, while the same land under
vegetable crops would support a great number. One acre of wheat will
support 42 people; one of oats, 84; of potatoes and rice, 176; so let
us not despair while the rich land is still wailing for cultivation.
Cabbages flourish exceedingly at Pinjarrah, and the climate and soil are
well adapted for English fruits. There is quite a thriving village, with
good buildings and private houses. From this place I took a drive of 14
miles through rich fruit-growing country to the charming seaside town
of Mandurah. Pears, peaches and nectarines loaded the trees, and there
is a fine fruit-preserving factory, as well as several factories for
preserving fish. The Brighton Hotel is very comfortable, and you can get
a vast amount of pleasure at this charming resort. Boating, fishing and
shooting can be indulged in to your heart’s content. I had a right merry
time; several people I knew were staying there, and I became quite an
expert at fishing. Across the ferry from the hotel is the Murray estuary,
which is really teeming with fish. The goldfields people patronise
Mandurah largely, and many huge catches of fish have been chronicled
by them on their return to the fields from their holiday. Very large
kingfish are frequently caught with hand-lines. Almost any kind of line
will do; it is amusing to see the greedy things snapping at anything you
put on the hook. I saw one caught that measured 5 feet in length and
weighed 38 lb. Black bream weighing 4 lb. are a common catch. Hosts of
crabs are about, making the fishing more exciting than ever. At one time
I thought fishing the slowest amusement in the world, but after this
experience at Mandurah I am convinced that there is some fascination in
it after all. In two days a visitor caught 17 dozen whiting, bream and
mullet. The mullet is a delicious fish, more like salmon than anything.
Some English people staying at the hotel said it was quite equal to the
English salmon. As you may imagine, plenty of well-cooked fish is always
supplied at table, and any one requiring a quiet and enjoyable rest from
city troubles cannot do better than visit Mandurah, where, in addition to
the splendid fishing, other sports can be indulged in, since plenty of
good duck, teal and snipe shooting is to be got at the lakes 5 miles out.
[Illustration: LUNATIC ASYLUM, W.A.]
Returning to Pinjarrah, I drove out to a fine orange grove. Some idea of
its character can be gained from the fact that some well-known fruiterers
of Perth bought four trees from the owner at £100 per tree, and,
after ripening and picking, made £50 profit per tree. The Drakesbrook
Experimental Government Farm is about 12 miles off, and I there saw
enormous cucumbers, pumpkins, and other vegetables.
Seven miles farther on are Millar’s Yarloop Mills. The export from these
mills is very large; 21 sailing ships and 15 steamers were employed to
take away the timber to various places last year. The settlement presents
a busy appearance. When the train stopped over 100 men came from the
mills to get their newspapers and see if there was any one they knew in
the train. I left the train and looked for an hotel to put up at, but
there is none; however, I obtained comfortable quarters at a private
house. There are several mills connected with Yarloop, among them Iron
Pot, so called from a conical hill near to it. Hoffman & Waterhouse’s
Mills are 13 miles away, and are connected by telephone with the head
mill. The office is very handsomely built of jarrah lined with polished
wood, tongued and grooved. Much of the wood of Western Australia is
suitable for small manufacturing purposes, such as making picture-frames,
walking-sticks and knife-handles, while the jam-wood, with its aromatic
perfume, is the very thing for pipe-making. I am sure a large trade could
be worked up in that business.
Some beautiful artistic work in jarrah carving has lately been done by
Mr. Howitt, of Perth, and was shown at the Paris Exhibition. One piece
especially, a font, is most exquisitely carved. Besides these jarrah
carvings, Mr. Howitt has made some panels from the following Australian
woods—karri, tuart, redgum, sandal-wood, raspberry jam, banksia, she
oak, prickly pear, York gum, blackbutt, wandoo and morrell; each of the
panels is decorated with a carving of the tree’s foliage. I also saw
at Robertson & Moffat’s furnishing warehouse, before leaving Perth, a
handsome dinner-waggon made from seventeen kinds of Western Australian
woods, with which, besides the before-mentioned woods, salmon gum,
gimblet, castor-oil, swamp gum, and curly jarrah were most artistically
introduced in the mosaic part, and with the handsomely carved typical
swan on the top made a very effective piece of furniture.
The Chamber of Commerce, Prague, Bohemia, have recently written to
Mr. Ulrich, of Fremantle, asking for specimens and samples of Western
Australian woods to be sent to that place with a view to future business;
and when the beauty and excellence of the woods become more generally
known I think they will be put to more artistic uses than wood-paving.
Outdoor enjoyments are yearly coming into more favour, and the demand for
outdoor chairs, seats, and tables must increase. The jarrah-wood never
shrinks, and being of a beautiful dark red colour does not require paint.
The timber resources of the colony are marvellous, and it is estimated
that it would take fully a century to exhaust the now matured trees,
while fresh ones would be growing all the time.
The Harvey agricultural area, 9 miles from Yarloop, comprises 43,000
acres; of this 19,803 acres have been surveyed into 155 plots. The
land is splendid for fruit and vegetables, and there are a good many
selections, 10,000 acres having already been taken up. The soil is
rather heavy, and expensive to clear and drain. The Korijekup Estate is
managed by Mr. Asche, and is well under cultivation, the oranges grown
there being especially fine. There are good paddocks for horses to run
in, and the next time our family steed is sent out to grass it will be
to Korijekup. There are about 12 homesteads on the estate, occupied
by different families. The pasture lands are very good, and the soil
well adapted for strawberry and gooseberry growing. There are about 10
acres of these delicious fruits under cultivation. The manager’s house
and men’s quarters are near the river, the latter a substantially built
structure of slabs, made 60 years ago by convict labour for Sir James
Stirling, to whom the land was originally granted (in lieu of payment
of salary). In the winter time there are a great many trappers about,
who gain a good living by trapping the native bear and opossum, for
the skins of which they get 9s. per dozen in Perth. The grey skins,
when edged with black, make beautiful rugs for a cold climate, but the
winters in Western Australia are so mild that things of that kind are
not required. In the early days the old coach-road to Perth from Bunbury
passed near Korijekup, and where there were formerly only halting-places
many flourishing farms now stand. The land about there is very suitable
for dairying, the grass being green all the year round; the soil is brown
loam, interspersed with rich black swamps, and suitable for intense
culture.
Another 15 miles brought me to Collie Station, where I took the branch
train to the Collie coalfields. Until recently these fields have been
somewhat neglected, but are now coming into great favour, the coal got
there having been proved to be of excellent quality, and now being
extensively used. The Government have decided to use it on the railways,
and many of the shipping merchants trading to different places have also
signified their intention of using it. The Smelting Works at Fremantle
are following suit; householders are consuming it largely, and I can
state from my own experience that it is excellent coal, which never goes
out, but burns to the last bit, just leaving clean brown dust behind.
It will in time be a mine of wealth to Western Australia and constitute
a great industry, making work for thousands of coal-miners, for the
deposits of coal are almost limitless. Bores have been used in different
parts of the field, and have proved the existence of enormous bodies
of coal. The Collie coal-mine has recently been bought from the Collie
Company by Mr. Zeb Lane, for the British Westralia Syndicate, and is now
called the Collie Proprietary Coalfields of Western Australia.
Collie is a very pleasant little town, with some hotels, several stores,
and many snug and pretty dwellings. One usually thinks of a coal-mining
town as an uninteresting, grimy place, but Collie is nothing of the kind.
In the midst of a magnificent jarrah forest, at an elevation of 600 feet
above sea-level, this place has, I imagine, a brilliant future before it.
The air is delightfully bracing; the sea breeze blows in from the coast,
and in the near future, when the gardens now being planted by the men on
their residential plots have come to maturity, the miners will be able,
after their work underground, to sit under their own vine or fig-tree
and enjoy the pipe of peace. This is not a mere form of words, but will
be solid fact, for the ground is so good that, beside containing coal
underneath, it will grow all kinds of products on its fertile flats and
valleys.
Many of the men are making very comfortable homes for themselves; they
can see that the field is permanent, and that they may hope to remain
here. Collie will, I predict, be in the future one of the principal towns
of the colony.