OLD PORT FAIRY
Mr. Burchett was rather famous for combining pleasure with business when
travelling on the road with stock. At times his experiments were thought
_un peu risqués_. It was related of him and Mr. Alick Kemp (I think)
that finding themselves so near Melbourne as the Saltwater River, in
sole charge of a mob of fat cattle from "The Gums," they held council,
and decided that the cattle would be all right in a bend of the river
till the morning, being quiet and travel-worn. The friends then started
for Melbourne, where they went to the theatre and otherwise enjoyed
themselves. They came back the first thing in the morning, to find the
cattle peacefully reposing, and as safe as houses. It might well have
been otherwise. There was a dismal tale current in the district of the
first mob of fat cattle from Eumeralla--magnificent animals, elephants
in size, and rolling fat--stampeding at the sight of a pedestrian, on
the road to market, being lost, and, as to the greater part, never
recovered.
This time we decided to take "the Frenchman's" road, past Crécy, a
trifle monotonous, perhaps,--it was all plain till you got to Salt
Creek,--but possessing advantages for so large a drove. We reached an
out-station of the Hopkins Hill property, then owned by a Tasmanian
proprietary, and managed by "a fine old 'Scottish' gentleman, all of the
olden time." We put the cattle into a small mustering paddock, and
retired to rest with great confidence in their comfort and our own.
About midnight a chorus of speculative lowing and bellowing acquainted
us with the fact that they were all out. An unnoticed slip-rail had
betrayed us. We arose, but could do nothing, and returned to our
blankets. Our rest, however, had been effectually broken.
"How did you sleep, Fred?" was my query at daylight.
"Well," meditatively, "I've had a quantity of _very inferior sleep_,"
was his rejoinder.
At Nareeb Nareeb, the station then of Messrs. Scott, Gray, and Marr, we,
by permission, camped for the purpose of separating our cattle, either
by drafting through the yard, or by "cutting out" on horseback. After a
brief trial of the latter method, we decided for the stock-yard, there
being a large and well-planned one on the ground. But the mud!--it was
the merry month of May, or else June only, and rain had fallen in
sufficient quantities to make millionaires _now_ of all the squatters
from Ballarat to Bourke. We put on our oldest clothes, armed ourselves
with sticks, and resolutely faced it. What figures we were at nightfall!
We smothered a few head, but the work was done. Our entertainers had a
short time since mustered their whole herd, and sold them in Adelaide.
We heard some of their road stories. In crossing the great marshes which
lie to the north-west of Mount Gambier, they had to carry their collie
dogs on horseback before them for miles.
We had nothing quite so bad as this, but after we parted next day, Fred
for "The Gums," and in cheering proximity to the Mount Rouse stony
rises, the best fattening, and withal best sheltered, winter country in
the west, I envied him his luck. I had farther to go, and when I arrived
my homestead was situated upon an island, with leagues of water around
it in every direction.
To "tail" or herd cattle daily in such weather was impossible, so both
herds were turned out, and by dint of reasonable "going round" and
general supervision, they took kindly to their new quarters.
Fred, I remember, told me that his cattle went bodily into the "Mount
Rouse stones," which by no means belonged to his run, and there abode
all the winter. He did not trouble his head much about them till the
spring, when they came in, of course, as mustering commenced. There were
no fences then, and no man vexed himself about such a trifle as a few
hundred head of a neighbour's cattle being on his run.
On our way we returned to and camped opposite Hopkins Hill station
homestead. A neat cottage in those days, slightly different from the
present mansion. Thence I think to Mr. Joseph Ware's of Minjah, a cattle
station which had not been very long bought from Messrs. Plummer and
Dent, who had purchased from the Messrs. Bolden Brothers. Then past
Smylie and Austin's to Kangatong, where dwelt Mr. James Dawson.
We remained at Kangatong for a day, so as to give Joe Burge time to come
and meet us, which he did, considerably lightening my labours and
anxieties thereby. Thence to Dunmore, which was "as good as home." The
next day saw the whole lot safe in a big brush-yard, which Joe Burge had
thoughtfully prepared for their reception, thinking it would do to plant
with potatoes in the spring. And a capital crop there was!
I always think that the years intervening between 1846 and the
diggings--that is, the discovery of gold at the Turon, in New South
Wales, in 1850, and at Ballarat in 1851--were the happiest of the
pastoral period. There was a good and improving market for all kinds of
stock. Labour, though not over-plentiful, was sufficient for the work
necessary to be done. The pastures were to a great extent under-stocked,
so that there were reserves of grass which enabled the squatter to
contend successfully with the occasional dry seasons. There was
inducement to moderate enterprise, without allurement to speculation.
The settlement of the country was progressing steadily. Agricultural and
pastoral occupation moved onward in lines parallel to one another. There
was no jostling or antagonism. Each of the divisions of rural labour had
its facilities for legitimate development. There were none of the
disturbing forces which have assumed such dangerous proportions in these
latter days. No studied schemes of resistance or circumvention were
thought of by the squatter. No spiteful agrarian invasion, no
blackmailing, no sham improvements were possible on the part of the
farmer.
From time to time portions of land specially suited for agricultural
settlement were surveyed and subdivided by the Government. On these, as
a matter of course, when sold by auction at some advance upon upset
price, according to quality, was a purely agricultural population
settled. It had not then occurred to the squatter, hard set to find
money for his necessary expenditure upon labour and buildings, stock and
implements, to pay down £1 per acre or more for ordinary grazing ground.
The farmer, as a rule, sold him flour and forage, supplied some of the
needful labour, and hardly more came into competition with his pastoral
neighbour than if he had lived in Essex or Kent.
I can answer in my own person for the friendly feeling which then
existed between the two great primitive divisions of land-occupation.
The Port Fairy farmers were located upon two large blocks, the Farnham
and Belfast surveys, about ten miles from the nearest and not more than
fifty from the more distant squattages. "The Grange," afterwards known
by its present name of "Hamilton," was then part of a station, and was
not surveyed and subdivided till some years after.
The majority of the squatters found it cheaper to buy flour and potatoes
from the farmers than to grow them. Most of us grew our own hay and
oats; but in after years our requirements were largely supplemented from
Port Fairy, even in these easily produced crops. In return the farmers
purchased milch cows, as well as steers for breaking to plough and
team; and if these, with the increase of the female cattle, strayed on
to the runs, they were always recoverable at muster time, and no threat
of impounding was ever made. The agricultural area was enlarged when
needed. To this no squatter objected, nor, to my knowledge, was such
land purchased by other than _bona-fide_ farmers. I cannot call to mind
any feud or litigation between squatter and farmer having its inception
in the land question.
Both classes met alike at race meetings and agricultural Shows; and, as
far as could be noticed, there was none of the smouldering feeling of
jealousy regarding the prevalence of _latifundia_, or other _casus
belli_, which has of late years blazed up and raged so furiously.
Wages were not high in those days, and yet the men were contented. They
certainly saved more money than they do now. They managed to acquire
stock, and after taking up a bit of unoccupied country, became
squatters, and wealthy ones too. Joe Burge and his wife received £30 a
year. Old Tom had 10s. a week; lodging and rations, in which matters, at
that time, we shared much alike, were included.
I recall, moreover, instances of genuine attachment as exhibited by old
family servants to the children of their masters, though it is generally
asserted that this particular kind of faithful retainership is confined
to those who are happy enough to be born in Europe.
Mr. John Cox, of Werrongourt, supplied one instance, at least, which
illustrates the feeling so honourable to both master and servant. A
shepherd named Buckley had saved sufficient money in his service
wherewith to purchase a small flock of sheep. He found a run for them on
a corner of the Mount Rouse country, where they increased to the
respectable number of 14,000. He told me and others that, as Mr. Cox had
in the first instance given him facilities for investing his savings
profitably, and in every way taken an interest in his welfare, he was
resolved to leave his whole property to "Master Johnny," the second son,
then a fine ingenuous lad of twelve or thirteen. Buckley was a bachelor,
I may state, and had presumably no other claims upon his fortune.
But, about a year before his death, he received intelligence that a
sister, of whom he had not heard since his arrival in Tasmania, had
emigrated to America, and was still living. He consulted a mutual
friend, and was told that Mr. Cox was the last man who would wish, or
indeed allow him to neglect his own kin. "I must leave Master Johnny
something," he said; and when the old man passed away, and his property
was chiefly devised to his sister, a sum of £1000 was duly bequeathed to
Mr. John Cox, jun.
Mr. Cox was unfortunately in failing health at that time. The station,
Werrongourt, was sold to Mr. Mooney, the great cattle-dealer, for the
magnificent (?) price of £5 per head! It was the first rise in cattle
after the gold of 1851, and anything over £3 per head was thought a high
figure. Mr. Cox, however, was anxious to visit the old country, chiefly
on account of his health. The change was unavailing. He died on the
voyage, to the great grief of the district, where all revered him as a
high-minded, honourable country gentleman. He was, indeed, a worthy son
of the good south land, a staunch friend, a true patriot, and as a
magistrate famed for the unswerving justice which equally regarded rich
and poor. Among his humbler countrymen, "Mr. Cox said it" was sufficient
to close any argument, whatever might be the interest involved.
"Master Johnny," some years after, elected to enter the German army. He
and a younger brother fought in the Franco-Prussian war; they were both
wounded at Sedan, where their mother, an Australian by birth (_née_ Miss
Frances Cox, of Hobartville), attended them till their recovery,
continuing her unselfish labours by acting as hospital nurse until the
end of the war.
The brothers were, no doubt, promoted. They were in the cavalry, as
became Australians, and most probably now, as Baron and Count von Coxe,
are adding fresh branches to a wide-spreading and generally flourishing
family tree.
When "Master Johnny," one fresh spring morning, rode down to Squattlesea
Mere from Werrongourt, bringing two couples of draft foxhounds from his
father's pack, to be sent to an intending M.F.H. in another colony, we
little dreamed of the ranks in which he was to ride, the sport in which
he was to share, ere the second decade should have passed over our
heads.