The Irish in Australia/Chapter 6
CHAPTEE VI.
A FEW IRISH CENTRES.
GEELONG—ITS EARLY PROSPERITY—MANUFACTURING ENTERPRISE—THREE: DISTINGUISHED IRISH PRIESTS—ADDRESS TO SMITH O'BRIEN - IRISHTOWN—HIBERNIAN TITLES FOR AUSTRALIAN ESTATES—ENORMOUS PRICE OF LAND—VISIT OF SIR RICHARD BOURKE—HIS DESIRE TO MAKE GEELONG THE CAPITAL—ITS CATHOLIC INSTITUTIONS—KILMORE—A TYPICAL IRISH CENTRE—LOVE OF KINDRED—LARGE REMITTANCES TO RELATIVES AT HOME—KYNETON—A FLOURISHING COMMUNITY—BELFAST—A CHILD OF THE ULSTER CAPITAL—AN ABSENTEE LANDLORD—AN IMPORTATION OF IRISH FARMERS—A CELEBRATED POTATO COUNTRY—SOBRIETY OF IRISH SETTLERS—GIPPS LAND-ITS WILD LUXURIANCE—A MEMORABLE TOUR OF EXPLORATION—SIR CHARLES GAVAN DUFFY'S LAND ACT—HOW IT PROMOTED THE SETTLEMENT OF GIPPS LAND—"THE GARDEN OF AUSTRALIA"—A MILLION OF MONEY IN DIVIDENDS—THE STRANGE CASE OF PATRICK COADY BUCKLEY.
Geelong, once the only rival of Melbourne in the race for metropolitan pride of place, may be described as a city of arrested development. Beautifully situated on the shores of Corio Bay, the western arm of Port Phillip, it was the natural port for the extensive pastoral and agricultural district that stretched away for hundreds of miles in the direction of the setting sun. Its progress as a commercial centre was exceedingly rapid, and for a time it really seemed as if Geelong was destined to wrest from Melbourne the honour of being the capital city of Victoria. This anticipation was materially strengthened by the opening up of the Ballarat gold-fields fifty miles to the north. It was in Geelong that the first glad tidings of gold were announced, and it was from Geelong that the largest contingent of the diggers' army started to try their luck. When they reached their destination and settled down to the work of gold-finding, they drew their supplies from Geelong, as being the nearest and most accessible sea-port. Thus the lovely harbour of Geelong became crowded with shipping, and at the western end of the town there sprang into existence the bustling suburb of Kildare, which was peopled almost exclusively by Irish carriers and their families. These carriers made hay while the sun shone. They were the only means of regular communication between the diggings and the coast, and the storekeepers often paid them £100 per trip for the carriage of a ton of goods. In this way many of the carriers made fortunes in a few years' time, and, whilst some of them exemplified in their own persons the truth of the old saying, "Easily got, easily gone," others judiciously invested their money and established their families in opulence. For years past nearly the whole of the lucrative carrying trade of the Geelong district has been in the hands of one self-made Irishman, who from small beginnings has risen to a position of wealth and influence. Councillor Joseph Kerley, the gentleman referred to, is an enterprising Celt, a popular president of the Geelong and Western District St. Patrick's Society, and a generous benefactor to the Irish and Catholic institutions of the community in which he lives.
To ensure the continuance of the prosperity enjoyed by Geelong during the years that immediately followed the discovery of gold, two steps were necessary—railway communication with Ballarat, the leading gold-fields' centre, and the removal of a shoal or bar that formed a dangerous impediment to navigation at the entrance to the harbour. But, with a want of foresight they have ever since regretted, the people of Geelong took no thought of the future. To all appearance they believed that the days of lucky diggers, and the consequent plentiful circulation of money in their midst, would last for many a year. They foolishly adopted no means of removing the only drawback to the permanent utilisation of their capacious harbour, and the result was the gradual centralisation of the shipping trade in the metropolis. When they did take action in the other direction, their procedure was equally disastrous to the interests of their town, for, instead of connecting themselves by railway with Ballarat and thus securing the gold-fields' traffic, they constructed a line to Melbourne, and only succeeded in killing the goose with the golden eggs, that is, in diverting a most lucrative trade from their own doors and into the coffers of the rival, Melbourne.
It took some years before Geelong recovered from this double blow inflicted by its own unthinking inhabitants, but after a period of depression, the place gradually regained to some degree its old position of importance, and it is now the leading manufacturing centre of provincial Victoria. Woollen mills, tanneries, foundries, a paper mill and a rope factory give constant employment to a large section of its population. The last-named is a most extensive establishment, occupying three acres of ground, with a rope-walk of 1,650 feet length. It was originally founded in 1853 on a very humble scale by an honest, hard-working Irishman, Michael Donaghy, under whose industrious hands it grew year by year, and finally developed into the largest establishment of its kind in Victoria. It is now directed by the founder's son, Mr. John Donaghy, a good citizen, and one of the three Parliamentary representatives of the town. Geelong is also noted for the number and the excellence of its educational institutions, its healthy and salubrious situation inducing many inland colonists to send their children there for scholastic training. It possesses the oldest provincial newspaper in the colony—the Geelong Advertiser, and in it the first Victorian literary periodical was started in 1849, under the title of the Australia Felix Monthly Magazine, Most of the public buildings of Geelong were designed in the heyday of its brief period of golden splendour, when it aspired to be the metropolis of Victoria, and it is therefore not surprising to find that they were projected on a great scale of magnificence. But long ere they were completed, Geelong's dream of future prosperity and pre-eminence had vanished, and its suddenly-awakened people had the good sense to swallow their pride, accept the situation, and suspend the building of the gorgeous edifices they had in hand. The suspension has lasted ever since, and the result is that every visitor to the town is immediately struck with the quantity of ambitious architectural work left in an unfinished condition. The two most striking examples of these unaccomplished aspirations are to be found in the Town Hall and St. Mary's Roman Catholic Church. The former, a massive and highly ornate structure as originally designed, has only its southern front completed, and this presents a curious contrast to the baldness and incompleteness that are so conspicuous on the other faces of the building. But, more than anything else, a glance at the accepted design for St. Mary's Church will supply convincing evidence of the strong faith in the future of Geelong as the coming capital, that was entertained by its early inhabitants. It exhibits an edifice of colossal cathedral proportions, such as one might expect to find in the episcopal city of some ancient Catholic continental nation, but which excites astonishment when associated with an antipodean town of yesterday. Still, it speaks well for the faith and enthusiasm of the first Catholics of Geelong, that they planned and set about building so noble a fane, at a time when most of their fellow-citizens were thinking of little else but the making of rapid fortunes for themselves, when the place was in a state of continual feverish excitement through the presence and extravagance of thousands of returned lucky diggers, when, to quote a contemporary narrative, "men clad in blue shirts and fustian trousers were hourly bringing into Geelong gold dust and nuggets wrapped up in rags, old stockings, pieces of handkerchiefs, and such like, to the amount of thousands." In after years the original design of the church was considerably modified to suit the altered circumstances, and a portion of the nave was completed, sufficiently large to answer the requirements of the reduced population. Even in this incomplete condition, the building is the most conspicuous, commodious and elegant ecclesiastical edifice in the town. Its façade contains a beautiful circular stained glass window in memory of a popular pastor of the place for many years, the Very Rev. Dean Hayes, who was on a visit to his native Ireland when he died, after having just been designated as the first Bishop of Armidale in New South Wales. His successor in Geelong was the Venerable Archdeacon Downing, who has already been mentioned as one of the pioneer priests of the goldfields, and who endeared himself to all classes of the community by his abounding liberality and his practical philanthropy. With him was associated a highly-accomplished Irish priest—the Rev. B. H. Power—one of the most accomplished preachers the Victorian church has possessed, a musician and composer of acknowledged attainments, and in his younger days a skilful editor of the Sydney Freeman's Journal. A sterling patriot, he established the Geelong and Western District St. Patrick's Society, as a bond of union amongst the Irishmen of the district, and the organisation continues to flourish, and to maintain the principles of loyalty to faith and fatherland which he eloquently enunciated in his opening address.
From its earliest days Geelong has been largely peopled by the Irish. No better evidence of this could be furnished than the significant fact that the address of welcome to Victoria, presented to William Smith O'Brien on his liberation from captivity in Van Diemen's Land, was actually signed by every member of the Geelong Corporation. In the Corporation of Melbourne the address to the exiled patriot was far from meeting with so unanimous and so favourable a reception.[1] And further, when Smith O'Brien visited Geelong in person, he was received with a general cordiality, and with popular manifestations of respect and goodwill such as are ordinarily reserved for the representatives of royalty. For years there was direct emigration from the home country to Geelong, and on one occasion the local government agent thought it his duty to direct the attention of his superiors to the fact, that "during the year 1855 the number of Irish people brought to Geelong in the government immigrant ships exceeded that of the English and Scotch put together." It was on the outskirts of the town proper that the Irish immigrants mostly settled, because there they could purchase land on reasonable terms. The government, in the hope of raising a large revenue, had divided the town into two parts, calling the portion near the harbour North Geelong, and the part further back. South Geelong. The minimum price of land in the former they fixed at £300 per acre, and in the latter £150 per acre. These of course were practically prohibitory prices to the great majority of the immigrants. As suburban allotments were to be had at £5 per acre and even less, new and more populous towns sprang up outside the two^proclaimed government towns, and thus were created the extensive suburbs of Geelong known as Ashby, Newtown and Irishtown. The latter filled a spacious valley to the west of the government town of South Geelong, and was apparently occupied principally by the Irish immigrants. It was there that Mr. Michael Donaghy first started the extensive industry which has already been referred to. When municipal privileges were conferred on the district, in common with the adjacent but elevated suburb of Newtown, the government thought proper to change the name from Irishtown to Chilwell, the name it now bears. Kildare, the other Hibernian suburb, and Little Scotland, a Caledonian centre, became merged in the extensive borough of Ashby, or Geelong West, as it is now officially designated. Irish names figure very conspicuously in the first government land sales at Geelong, and the purchasers all seem to have been actuated by the patriotic desire to perpetuate in a new land the titles which had been familiar to their lips in childhood's days. On this account a large map of Geelong and its suburbs forms a very interesting study. There we see the "Avoca Estate" at the junction of the Moorabool and the Barwon, with Herne Hill rising up abruptly in the background—a pretty spot that suggested to its exiled owner a reminiscence of "the vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet." An Irish-Australian author, Samuel Hannaford, describing this portion of Geelong in his "Sea and River Side Rambles in Victoria," says: "Here the banks remind us of the dark glen-like scenery of some parts of Ireland; high hills whose declivities reach to the water's edge, and dark hollows intersecting, into which the daylight scarcely seems to glance." Other suburban estates, which have since been subdivided and built upon, originally bore such names as Kilkenny, Roscommon, Ballinasloe, Drumcondra, Cashel, Dunboyne, etc. As showing the exceedingly high value that was once set upon these lands, it may be mentioned that the late Frederick Griffin, a pioneer Victorian squatter, refused an offer of £50,000 for a small estate of five acres adjacent to the before-mentioned suburb of Irishtown. This was in the palmy days of Geelong, when its people revelled in glowing anticipations of a glorious future, and land speculation was the chief business of the hour. When the brief period of splendour had departed, and it became evident that Geelong was not destined to be the first of Victorian cities, the land became in consequence considerably depreciated in value, and the little estate, for which £50,000 had been refused, was afterwards sold for one-twentieth of that sum.
Sir Richard Bourke, the brave old Limerick soldier who was the Governor of New South Wales at the time, visited the infant settlement at Port Phillip in March, 1837, and was so delighted with the picturesque appearance and surroundings of Geelong, and so struck with its natural capacity for accommodating a large population, that he strongly favoured the proposal to make it the capital in preference to Melbourne. He advocated this view before a conference of government officials and leading colonists, which he had convened for the purpose of finally selecting the site of the capital. The balance of opinion, however, was against the Governor, and having gracefully acquiesced in the decision of the majority, he proclaimed Melbourne as the metropolis of the rising colony. Mr. Richard Howitt, who visited the place not long afterwards, remarks in his book of Australian impressions: "I reached Geelong in the evening, and was much pleased with the neighbourhood. With the locality of Geelong itself no one can be undelighted. The town is secondary only to Melbourne. It has progressed wonderfully, and, should this country become more prosperous, must at no distant date almost equal its more fortunate prototype, the metropolitan city of Australia Felix."
To the energy and public spirit of one of its mayors of Irish birth, Mr. J. H. Connor, now a member of the Legislative Council of Victoria, Geelong is indebted for the existence of the massive Exhibition building, which is one of the chief ornaments of the town. Another conspicuous building is the Convent of Our Lady of Mercy, a direct affiliation from the parent house in Baggot Street, Dublin. Within the convent enclosure are an extensive orphanage and industrial school for Catholic girls, both of which institutions are partially subsidised by the State. St. Augustine's Orphanage, in the same neighbourhood, is a commodious establishment for boys, and is under the skilful management of a community of Christian Brothers.
The typical Irish centre of the colony of Victoria is Kilmore. Its name, its history, its people, and its general characteristics combine to make it the most distinctively Catholic and Celtic town at the antipodes.[2] Occupying an exceptionally fertile valley about forty miles to the north of Melbourne and on the main road to Sydney, it was discovered by some early Irish immigrants, who settled down upon the land, prospered amazingly, and, with that generous warm-hearted love of kindred which is one of the finest traits of the Irish character, they lost no time in sending for and bringing out their poor and oppressed relations at home, to share in their prosperity and freedom under southern skies. Thus Kilmore soon became a little Irish colony in itself. To quote the words of a book] making traveller: "It gave me the idea that Tubbercurry had been rafted over holus-bolus from the Emerald Isle, so completely and intensely Irish was the entire population in appearance, in accent, and in the peculiarly Milesian style in which the shops were set out." And this is still true, not only of the town of Kilmore, but of the whole of the surrounding country, which is mostly in the hands of as fine a body of Irish and Irish- Australian yeomanry as one could wish to see. When the gold discoveries so suddenly and marvellously changed the face and fortunes of the colony, Kilmore was lucky enough to be just in the position to profit exceedingly by the unexpected revolution that was brought about. It became a recognised halting-place for troops of intending and returning diggers, and its farm produce was bought up at fabulous prices to supply the wants of the huge mining population that was congregated at Bendigo and other northern goldfields. In after years the people of Kilmore found to their surprise and delight that there was plenty of gold at their very doors. The mines at Reedy Creek in particular have produced a very large quantity of the precious metal, and have contributed greatly to the progress and prosperity of the Kilmore district. Rich in a double sense is the soil on which this pleasant Hibernian settlement stands—rich in agricultural wealth and in mineral treasure. From what has been said of the history and peculiarities of the place, no one will be surprised at the information that the most prominent building in Kilmore is its Catholic Church—a splendid Gothic pile dedicated to Ireland's patron saint, and built at a cost of £19,000, the voluntary contributions of the Irish exiles around, whose faith and fidelity to the religion of their fathers and the land of their birth, so far from being diminished by time and distance, became intensified by thought and by absence from well-remembered scenes. Neither will it be any surprise to learn that Kilmore gave to the church in Victoria its first native nun and its first native priest. St. Patrick's Church in Kilmore contains the remains of Father O'Rourke, the devoted Irish priest who lovingly superintended its erection, and who, during life, was almost idolised by his faithful Celtic flock. An antipodean Soggarth Aroon, when priests were few and far between, he brought himself to a premature grave by the unsparing activity with which he strove to overtake the spiritual requirements of the extensive district which had been committed to his charge. The present pastor of the Kilmore mission. Father Farrelly, is the beau ideal of the genial, good-natured Irish priest, and he has achieved a widespread popularity.
Kilmore was necessarily a place of considerable political importance during the long period when it was represented in Parliament by the late Sir John O'Shanassy, the head of three Victorian Ministries. It was the platform to which the eyes of the whole colony were turned at more than one momentous crisis, and from which more than one statesmanlike policy was propounded. When Sir John retired from its representation in order to enter the Upper House, he was succeeded by his Attorney-General and the most brilliant advocate at the Victorian bar, Mr. E. D. Ireland, Q.C. The district is now well and capably represented by Mr. Thomas Hunt, the proprietor of its Free Press, and an energetic, patriotic Irish-Australian.
In his "Life in Victoria," Mr. Kelly gives an interesting account of his meeting in the early days with a countryman in Kilmore, who had been a great gainer in every respect by emigration. "During my first stroll through the town," he says, "I observed a man following me in all my movements. At last, on hearing my voice, he exclaimed, as he confronted me with a beaming countenance, 'Arrah, sure you're Master William.' 'That's my name, certainly,' I replied; 'have we ever met before?' 'Ah, thin, blud-anouns, how's every inch of you? Meet afore is it?—at Bomore, in ould Sligo, where you carried the day on Irishman.' 'So, you recollect me, I see,' said I, though that race came off some years ago.' 'Remimber you, indeed; why thin I'd be far gone wid sore eyes if I wouldn't know your skin on a bush. But there's no use in talkin',' he continued, 'come down wid me, sir, an' see the place an' family.'
"I went with him accordingly, and, in explanation, was enabled to bring to mind some home reminiscences of his family and neighbourhood, which delighted him beyond measure. His name was Carty; he lived in the town, but had a fine block of land of sixty acres in the suburbs, all under crop, and every inch his own. At home, a few years before, he was one of that poor spalpeen class who rented an acre of land and a mud cabin, and went over to reap the harvest in England in order to make up the rent; but on the occasion of our meeting, he owned a plot in the town, and built the house he inhabited by means of his earnings from the farm, which he purchased at the upset price of £1 per acre before the diggings commenced—rather a radical change in his condition in a very brief period. He explained to me the reason of the aggregation of Irish in the neighbourhood in a very simple and natural way—one that will be very easily understood by any person familiar with the invariable habits of the Irish emigrants on the American continent, where the first use an exile of Erin makes of his savings is to remit every penny beyond that required for his own immediate and pressing wants to his friends at home, to enable them to join him in the land of promise. "In the early, or pastoral days of the colony, Scotchmen vastly predominated over all others in the aggregate, while the Irish counted a miserable minority; but now the tables are turned, and the Irish, as far as numbers go, are in the ascendant beyond any other distinct race, notwithstanding their original poverty and the expense of the voyage, and without seeking an explanation in any excess of partiality in the selections of free emigration. In fact and truth it was and is altogether owing to the national characteristic alluded to above; and in the instance of Kilmore, Carty informed me such was the case, in confirmation of which he ran over a list of late remittances within his own knowledge, the magnitude of which completely surprised me, and satisfactorily accounted for the great and growing increase of the Irish family in Victoria."
Kilmore occupies the south-eastern corner of the county of Dalhousie, but the south-western section of the same county, surrounding the substantial town of Kyneton, is also largely peopled by settlers of Irish birth or parentage. Kyneton is beautifully situated on the River Campaspie, is connected by railway with the metropolis, and is the centre of a far-famed flourishing community of cultivators. Its agricultural show-day is only exceeded in splendour and popularity by the bright moving spectacle seen at its annual race-meeting on each, St. Patrick's Day. On both these festive occasions Kyneton becomes crowded with visitors from far and near—friendly gatherings of the Irish clans, well-fed, well-dressed, and well-behaved. Kyneton's prosperity, it has been well said, "rests upon the firm foundation of a rich soil and a good climate," and no inland town of Victoria is characterissd by more of the elements of permanence and stability. Kyneton is a deanery under the jurisdiction of the Archbishop of Melbourne, and the mission possesses quite a host of churches, but not too many in view of the numbers and the extent of the Catholic population. Dean Greoghegan has been in ecclesiastical charge of Kyneton for more than a quarter of a century, and is held in the highest esteem throughout the district. Mr. Martin McKenna, a leading local Irishman, represented the Kyneton Boroughs in Parliament for a long series of years, and Mr. John Gavan Duffy—worthy successor to an honoured name in the records of colonial statesmanship—has been repeatedly returned for the county of Dalhousie.
The Victorian town of Belfast is a direct descendant of the Ulster capital; but, unlike the Irish parental city, it is a quiet, peaceable, and well-nigh unanimous community, undisturbed and undisgraced by riot or disorder of any description. Its history is unique in the annals of the Australian colonies. It presents the only example to be found in Australia of a large town belonging entirely to one man, and he an absentee landlord, living in Ireland and drawing a princely revenue from an estate where his corporeal presence was but a memory of a long-vanished past. The Irish people have suffered exceedingly from the curse of absenteeism, and the inhabitants of the antipodean Belfast were also, until quite recently, severely and unjustly handicapped by this incubus of a non-resident landlord. Within the last year or two, however, Belfast, to the great joy of its people, was rescued from its anomalous position amongst Victorian towns, its tenants being allowed the privilege of buying out their holdings or allotments—a privilege, it is needless to say, that was exercised with considerable pleasure and alacrity. Having obtained the freehold of the land which they were previously only permitted to occupy on annual leases, the people of Belfast are now carrying out extensive permanent improvements in every direction, and pushing their town into that prominence as a Victorian centre which it would have attained long ago but for the adverse circumstances of its birth.
Briefly these circumstances are the following: About the year 1840 the Colonial Office in London, with a full belief in its own infallibility and a self-satisfied ignorance of what it was really doing, initiated a system of "special surveys," by which capitalists were allowed to select blocks of 5,000 acres each, payment to be made at the rate of £1 per acre and no competition to be permitted. The mere statement of the scheme is sufficient of itself to show its utter stupidity and recklessness. To part for ever with splendid blocks of land in rising colonies, and on such ridiculously easy terms, was playing into the hands of the capitalists with a vengeance. The Australian people, who were on the spot and could see the injurious effects of this ill-conceived project, naturally protested with all their strength against its continuance. The governing authorities in London soon recognised the blunder they had made, but not before some mischief was done. One of the few capitalists who were in a position to seize the golden opportunity was a shrewd Irish attorney, named Atkinson, who was living in Sydney and who had previously made some unsuccessful attempts to acquire a large tract of land. He now lost no time in putting in his application for a special survey of 5,000 acres on the conditions laid down by the Colonial Office. The locality he chose was the land abutting on the beautiful harbour of Port Fairy, in what is now the western district of Victoria, and which had been described with perfect truth as "surprisingly fertile" by the rescued crew of a vessel that had been wrecked in the vicinity. But it so happened that the local government in Melbourne had also an eye to the probable future value of this spot, not only on account of the richness of the soil, but also by reason of the possibilities of the place as a leading seaport in the days to come; and before Mr. Atkinson's application received official approval, the land to the extent of five miles around Port Fairy was proclaimed a reservation by the State for the purposes of a future town and seaport. Most men would have withdrawn from the field after the issue of such a proclamation as this, but Mr. Atkinson was not to be daunted by obstacles of any shape, and he resolved to persevere in his determination. He summoned all the influence at his command into operation, with the result that on January 6th, 1843, Mr. Latrobe, the head of the government in Melbourne, was astonished to receive a communication from the Colonial Secretary, instructing him to "allow Mr. Atkinson to select his special survey." So indignant was Mr. Latrobe at this barefaced over-riding of the government proclamation, that he returned a reply absolutely refusing to order the survey until he received distinct and definite instructions. He further deemed it his duty to emphasise the injustice and the unwisdom of giving to one man a monopoly of one of the finest harbours in Australia, but all his remonstrances were without avail. After the lapse of a year he got the more precise instructions without which he had previously refused to act, and then of course he had no alternative but to order the survey and place Mr. Atkinson in possession of his coveted and most valuable estate.
As soon as he entered into possession, the first thing Mr. Atkinson did was to lay out a township around the harbour and give it the name of his native Belfast in Ireland. He then sub-divided 4,000 acres into farms of convenient size; and with the very laudable object of making the place Irish in reality as well as in name, he went to Sydney, and, when he returned, he brought back with him a shipload of his countrymen, their wives and their families. It is to be recorded to his credit that he did not insist on his future tenants being of Belfast or Northern origin. On the contrary, the great majority of them were Catholics from Munster and Connaught, and to this day the Belfast district continues to be one of the distinctively Catholic centres of Victoria. Having placed each family in possession of its future farm, Mr. Atkinson provided them all with seed, and with the means of maintaining themselves until the ripening of their crops. The first harvest fully realised all the anticipations that had been formed of the fertility of the soil, and at once lifted Belfast into the front rank of agricultural areas—a pride of place that it has continued to occupy ever since. "The farm lands on the Belfast estate," writes an authority on the subject, "are capable of growing excellent crops of potatoes or wheat, and other cereals. As an instance of its productiveness, it is related that one of the blocks has been under wheat continually during the past fifteen years without manuring, and the crops at the end of the period are as good as those obtained at the beginning. Yields of 16 tons to 21 tons per acre of marketable potatoes are stated to have been obtained from some paddocks in the district: and with regard to the grazing capabilities of the land, it is said that in a paddock of 86 acres, about seven miles from the town, 110 bullocks are being fattened, and 10 to 15 sheep to the acre are usually put to fatten in the neighbourhood."
As an agricultural settlement, Belfast thus became rapidly prosperous, but as a seaport town, in which respect it was also fully qualified to excel, its progress was far from being so satisfactory. The local government being naturally indignant at the manner in which their reservation of the place for public purposes had been ignored by the higher authorities, revenged themselves on the successful interloper by spending as little State money as possible on the development of the natural resources of Belfast and its harbour. But Mr. Atkinson had a firm faith in the future, and could afford to wait. Having founded his thriving farming colony, and appointed an agent to collect and remit his annual revenue of thousands of pounds from the estate, he retired to spend the rest of his days in his native Ireland, strong in the belief that the town he had marked out on the shores of Port Fairy would grow of itself, and be to him an additional abundant source of wealth. And the event proved that he was quite right in this anticipation. An infant town in such a commanding situation, and surrounded by the richest of agricultural areas, could not be kept back either by government neglect or by the ungrateful indifference of its absentee owner; and slowly but surely building sites in Belfast were sought after and became increasingly valuable. Thus the town grew apace through the operation of its own unaided resources, but, except to the very oldest of its inhabitants, the landlord of the place was only known through the reflected medium of his regularly-calling rent-collecting agent. It was apparently Mr. Atkinson's intention to make the town of Belfast, and the neighbouring agricultural settlement, a splendid hereditary estate, for, when he died, he bequeathed the whole of the lucrative property to his son. But this attempt to plant the evil seed of absentee landlordism on Australian soil was happily frustrated, and the second Mr. Atkinson was induced to part with the property for a good round sum to three gentlemen who possessed large interests in Belfast. These gentlemen, by selling the land in small allotments, which brought remarkably high prices, gave the leaseholders under Mr. Atkinson's sway the opportunity of converting themselves into independent freeholders, and this long-wished-for opportunity was embraced with general joy and eagerness. In this manner Belfast has been placed on an equal footing with other Victorian towns, and is no longer drained of several thousands of pounds annually to support an absentee owner in idleness. The money is retained where it has been raised, and circulates for the benefit of its producers. The good results of the abolition of the old insecure tenure, one of the greatest disabilities with which Belfast had to contend in its days of private ownership, are now seen in a vastly increased stability and self-confidence, and in the variety of improvements that would never have been undertaken but for the fortunate change from foreign to local proprietorship. The Victorian Government, too, is now making amends for past neglect by providing all necessary harbour facilities, and improving the navigation of the River Moyne, so that vessels may come up, discharge, and reload in the town itself.
Whether regarded as a maritime, a manufacturing, or an agricultural centre, Belfast has now a most promising future before it, but it may be hoped that in the era of its coming prosperity, it will not lose that Celtic atmosphere and those Hibernian attributes with which the eminent scientist, Dr. J. E. Taylor, was so particularly struck. In the record of his tour through "Our Island Continent," he says that the suburbs of Belfast reminded him wonderfully of a well-to-do Irish town—"The same kind of houses and potato-patches, the same paddocks with the same kind of cows, the same kind of stone-walls." The town of Belfast, it only remains to add, has been represented for some years in the Victorian parliament by its present member, Mr. J. J. Madden, a stalwart young Irish-Australian Catholic. The county triumphantly returned Sir Charles Gavan Duffy soon after his arrival in the colony, and was subsequently represented for a lengthy period by a typical true-hearted Celt in the person of the late Hon. Michael O'Grady. Mr. James Toohey, its present member, has been continuously returned at all the recent elections.
Another estate known as Farnham adjoined Mr. Atkinson's in the early days, and like his, it was subsequently subdivided into small farms and largely occupied by industrious Irish immigrants. It extends to the eastward from Belfast towards the town of Warrnambool, and from its rich volcanic soil are produced the very best potatoes in Australia. As many as 40,000 tons of potatoes have been exported from Warrnambool in one year, and the quantity annually sent away from Belfast has, at times, been even greater than this. "As a potato-grower the Irishman has no equal, and as a pig-raiser he is hard to beat," was the conclusion arrived at by a candid critic after travelling through this district. "Leasing land for potato-growing," writes a gentleman intimately acquainted with the locality "is the great event of the year with the small proprietors in the district, and the prices paid per acre are a source of the greatest astonishment to the residents in less favoured districts of Australia. The leaseholders get possession of the land on the 1st July, and give it over on the 1st May ensuing, and for this they pay the high rent of from £4: up to £8 per acre. The persons carrying on this industry are, as might be guessed, of Irish birth or descent, and their judgment and skill in the conduct of the business is remarkable. Before offering for a lease of any land, they have an intimate knowledge of the quality and depth of every yard of soil in the field, and what crop they may expect on an average season." An eye-witness has given an interesting description of one of these sales of annual leases for potato land. "The whole assemblage," he says, "with the exception of the auctioneers and one or two others who, like myself, are simply present from a feeling of curiosity, are dressed in their work-a-day clothes, but under these well-worn coats there are some deep pockets, as the subsequent proceedings testify. Meeting an acquaintance in the crowd, an old resident in the locality, I remarked that there was a poor prospect of a satisfactory sale, as the appearance of the crowd certainly indicated no plethora of cash. He shook his head, and in a whisper remarked, 'There will be high prices given to-day, they are all so quiet—that means business,' and, pointing to one individual in the crowd, who apparently was more likely to be an applicant for admission to the benevolent asylum than a purchaser of land at extreme rates, he remarked, 'that man, poor as he looks, is worth thousands, and, take them all round, I believe they are worth more man for man than the same number selected indiscriminately at one of your town sales:' and the result, as far as the prices realised were concerned, justified his prediction. A few minutes afterwards a well-appointed buggy and pair drove up, containing the burly and genial form of the senior partner in a leading Warrnambool firm, who, after exchanging cheery greetings with the assemblage, to whom he was evidently well known, at once commenced business. As soon as the conditions of sale were read a storm of dissent greeted them, and all sorts of suggestions were made for their amendment, but, finding it impossible to meet their various ideas, the auctioneer exclaimed, 'Well now, gentlemen, the conditions of sale just read hold good without any alteration, so take the land or leave it, or regulate your biddings by them.' This gave the opposition its quietus, and the bidding began at £7 an acre the first jump, which was rapidly increased to £8 7s. 6d., when the lot was knocked down. The purchaser stepped forward and marked his allotment on the map, after carefully comparing it with the one held in his hand. The next block was then offered, and so on continuously, till the whole area of 125 acres found purchasers at an average rental of £6 10s. per acre." After describing the conditions of payment—one-third of the purchase-money on the fall of the hammer, another third on the 1st of August, and the balance on the 1st of February—our observant friend concludes with a sort of left-handed compliment: "At the settling the purchasers put down the cash for their several instalments, amounting in some cases to upwards of £50, and eight o'clock saw the last of them. I was certainly surprised to find the whole assemblage disperse without a drunken man to be seen or a row. Surely Pat is degenerating from the traditions of his ancestors!"
If by "the traditions of his ancestors" are meant the many doubtful stories of the bacchanalian revels and the quarrelling propensities of Irishmen in a bygone age, then the sons of Hibernia to-day, all the world over, must be entitled to every commendation for refusing to recognise, as their national model, the reckless, rollicking, contentious, six-bottles-a-day Irishman of exaggerated tradition. The Celts of the great potato-producing district of Victoria are far from being singular in their good behaviour as an assembled body; for, in every part of Australia, Irishmen meet together both for business and for pleasure, and afterwards return to their homes in the most sober and peaceable fashion that any honest well-wisher of the race could desire.
Gipps Land, the eastern province of Victoria, is now almost as Irish in the composition and the character of its inhabitants as that older western district which has just been described. This extensive and marvellously-productive province was named after the governor of the day—Sir George Gipps—by Count Strzelecki, an expatriated Polish exile and an enthusiastic scientist, who, in the beginning of 1840, explored what was then a wild and trackless region, with a young Irishman named James Riley for his companion, and a few personal attendants. They approached the district from the settled portions of New South Wales, and had no sooner crossed the dividing range than they entered on what they described as a new and splendid country, clothed with the richest pasture, and intersected with numerous rivers, forming an immense inland lake and its ramified lagoons. They saw opening up in every direction fresh fields for the operations of the settler, such as no other part of the colony with which they were acquainted presented to the gaze of the pioneer. As the party advanced the vegetation became so dense that it was with the utmost difficulty they could make any appreciable progress southwards. Finding that the horses retarded rather than accelerated the advance of the party, it was resolved to abandon them, and the adventurous explorers proceeded on foot through the terra incognita.
At a subsequent stage it was deemed advisable to bury all unnecessary baggage, so as to leave the party as free as possible to force their way onwards through the heavily-timbered country that surrounded them on every side. The count, not without a pang, had even to leave his mineralogical and botanical collections behind him. Day by day the party pushed their way through the tropical undergrowth, but with the exception of their wiry leader, they all gradually became so exhausted as to be physically unable to cope with the difficulties that beset their progress. According to a contemporary narrative,[3] the count, being more inured to the fatigues and privations attendant upon Australian exploration, alone retained possession of his strength; and, although burdened with a load of instruments and papers of forty-five pounds weight, continued to pioneer his exhausted companions day after day through an almost impervious forest, closely interwoven with climbing grasses, vines, willows, ferns and reeds. Here, the count was to be seen breaking a passage with his hands and knees through the centre of the forest; there, throwing himself at full length among the dense underwood, and thus opening, by the weight of his body, a pathway for his struggling companions. Thus the party inch by inch forced their way, and to add to their discomfort, the incessant rains prevented their getting rest either by night or day. During the last eighteen days of their journey their provisions consisted only of a very scanty supply of the flesh of the native bear. On the twenty-second day after they had abandoned their horses, the travellers, to their intense delight, came in sight of Western Port, and descried a vessel riding at anchor. At this infant settlement they received every hospitality, and were soon restored to their former health and vigour. The intrepid count immediately published a report of this perilous journey, and of the discoveries he had made. He described the new country he had found as "ready to reward the toil and the perseverance of the unwearied and thriving settlers of Australia. Scarcely any spot I know, either within or without the boundaries of New South Wales, can boast such advantages as Gipps Land." He then speaks in terms of rapture of its "3,600 square miles of forest, and its valleys, which in richness of soil, pasturage, and situation could not be surpassed."
The publication of this report was speedily followed by the settlement of Gipps Land, but only to a comparatively limited extent, for the difficulty of conquering the country deterred all save the hardiest and most resolute of pioneers. Its fierce, wild, black men, its dense forests, its huge mountain ranges, and its swiftly-rushing, almost uncrossable rivers, frightened away many who would have dearly loved a slice of its splendid soil, if they could achieve it without undergoing such a fearful preliminary penance. But the liberal provisions of Sir Charles Gavan Duffy's Land Act induced hundreds to stifle their fears and to settle in Gipps Land, and though at first they had a very hard fight with the forces of nature, most of them have now completely subdued the forest and are well-to-do farmers and graziers. It was of one of these successful settlers that Sir Charles once related this pleasing little incident: "I was in the house of a yeoman proprietor at Briagolong, who brought me to see a cheese factory established by a joint-stock company of farmers in his neighbourhood, where the milk of twenty farms is taken daily at a fixed price and manufactured into excellent cheese. 'I do not employ one additional hand,' he said, 'on this account. That girl who is playing Moore's Melodies milked a dozen cows this morning, and nearly every one in the house did as much. The result is a profit of £10 a week, the greater part of which would otherwise be lost.'"
Now that the Victorian Government is systematically opening up the wide and fertile expanse of Gipps Land with railways and roads, it has become the favourite field for land selection and scientific agriculture. Everywhere the axe of the woodman is heard resounding through the forest; cleared and cultivated spaces are beginning to be numerous; rivers are being bridged and brought under subjection, and the whole face of the country is losing its primeval wildness and gradually assuming an aspect of civilisation and advancement. Gipps Land is becoming, in short, what Henry Kingsley, the novelist, looking down from an Alpine height upon its untamed luxuriance more than thirty years ago, predicted it would one day be—"the garden of Australia." It is also one of the most popular resorts for excursionists during the summer season, its lake and mountain scenery being unsurpassed on the southern continent. Another great attraction to strangers are those gigantic gumtrees still to be seen in different parts of the province, some of them towering aloft to a height of 450 feet, and more than 80 feet round at their base. There is no unmixed good, it is said, on this mundane sphere, and the evil that has accompanied the extensive settlement of Gipps Land during recent years is to be found in the widespread destruction of the forests, resulting in a disturbance of the atmospheric conditions and the banishment of an ever-active agent in the preservation of health, for these eucalypts, or gum-trees, as they are generally called, possess the peculiar property of arresting fever germs and poisonous exhalations. They have been transplanted for this especial purpose to some of the malaria-infected districts of Europe and America, and with pronounced success. Australia, to which they are indigenous, has mercilessly hewn them down in the past, but is now repenting of its folly in that respect, and is replanting them on every seasonable opportunity.
Apart from its rich grazing grounds and its teeming farms, Gipps Land has immense stores of mineral wealth only partially developed—coal, tin, iron, copper, and gold. One of its principal towns—Walhalla—contains a gold mine known as the Long Tunnel, which has recently achieved the unique distinction amongst the gold mines of the world, of paying one million pounds in dividends to its fortunate shareholders.
Gipps Land has been the scene of many romantic incidents, from that early period when several expeditions started from Melbourne in search of a white woman supposed to be held in captivity by its ferocious blacks, down to the recent time when the "Buckley will case" took its place amongst the most remarkable legal puzzles of the century. One of the few fearless pioneers, who followed in the footsteps of Count Strzelecki in the memorable tour of exploration already referred to, was a young penniless Irish-Australian named Patrick Coady Buckley. He chose the wildest part of Gipps Land for his home, leased a pastoral area from the government, and, by his bull-dog bravery and determination, soon struck such terror into the marauding blacks of the neighbourhood, that they wisely gave his homestead a wide berth in the future, though in other parts of the country they continued their favourite pastime of spearing shepherds, sheep, and cattle. Buckley prospered year by year, added station to station, accumulated wealth, never married, never mentioned whether or not he had any relatives, and never referred to his early life. In religion he was a Roman Catholic, and during his lifetime he was a generous contributor to charitable institutions in general. As a rule, he was reserved and unassuming in manner, and was little known beyond the contracted circle of his immediate neighbours. It was only after his death on June 16th, 1872, that his name became familiar to the outer world. He died worth £63,000, but he left no will, and not a solitary relative came forward to claim the property. Under these circumstances the Crown, as usual, through its officer, the curator of intestate estates, stepped in, and the litigation that ensued lasted for nearly ten years and swallowed up the greater part of Buckley's accumulated wealth. An elderly man from New South Wales, named Thomas Maher, appeared on the scene and produced a dilapidated will, purporting to have been signed by Buckley in his favour more than thirty years before. He accounted for the dampness of the document by stating that during his absence from home a flood inundated the house and moistened the will. There was only one surviving witness to this alleged will, and he corroborated the story of Maher. But the Equity Court of Victoria refused to recognise the will as a genuine document, and Maher was thereupon arrested for perjury, but he died before the day fixed for his trial. Everybody who rejoiced in the name of "Coady" or "Buckley," or who was married to a lady maidenly known by either of these titles, now claimed relationship with the deceased squatter, and sent in an application to share in his estate. These applications came from every quarter of the globe. One English gentleman is reported to have written to the Secretary of State for the Colonies to the effect that he had a servant named Buckley who was next-of-kin to the deceased, and airily requesting that the value of the estate should be transmitted to him by return of post. A similar appeal was made by Lord Henniker, of Eye, on behalf of a servant of his, who was also a Buckley. After a long delay, during which the responsible legal officers were busily engaged in examining the proofs and sifting the claims of hundreds of aspirants to the honour of relationship with the late lonely Gipps Land squatter, the Master-in-Equity finally reported to the Court that the following were first cousins and next-of-kin to the deceased Patrick Coady Buckley:—Mary Coady, wife of John Coady, of Kilkenny, Ireland; James Maher and Thomas Maher, of New York, America; Ellen Tobin, wife of John Tobin, of Newfoundland; Mary Grace and Edward Grace, of East Newark, United States; Patrick Coady, of Burrin, Newfoundland; Catherine Browne, wife of Hugh Browne, of Nova Scotia; and Bridget Murphy, of Benalla, Victoria. But, when the unlucky estate emerged from the ten years' conflict in the courts, only £20,500 out of the original £63,000, was left for distribution amongst the nine duly-certified first-cousins. That is to say, two-thirds of Buckley's wealth went into the capacious pockets of the lawyers, and one-third was divided amongst his poor relations. One cannot but feel a regret that the major part of the savings of a lifetime of courage and toil, energy and perseverance, should have been thus scattered to the four winds of heaven.
- ↑ The address was in these terms and was presented by the late Sir John O'Shanassy on behalf of the Irishmen of the Colony:
"To William Smith O'Brien, Esq.
"Dear Sir,—We the undersigned citizens of Melbourne and Geelong avail ourselves of the opportunity afforded us by your visit to this country, to congratulate you and your companions in exile, Messrs. Martin and O'Doherty, upon your liberation from a painful and protracted bondage.
"We beg to express to you our most sincere gratification for having afforded us, by your visit to Victoria, the pleasure of offering to you, personally, an assurance of our sympathy and esteem; and, transient as we know your stay necessarily is, we rejoice at the occasion which enables us to greet you with a hearty welcome.
"We deeply regret to learn that the fond hope so long and so ardently cherished by men of every shade of political sentiment, indeed by every generous mind acquainted with your character and history, has not been fully realised by the graceful concession, on the part of Her Majesty's Ministers, of the full measure of your freedom.
"We desire to acknowledge the immensity of the sacrifice which you made from the noblest feeling that can actuate the heart—a pure and disinterested love of country. We appreciate and honour the manly bearing and dignified fortitude which have characterised you under a terrible adversity, and anxiously trust that the impolitic restriction which debars you from a return to all you hold dear—to home and family—may be speedily removed, and that you, consoled I for the reverses and trials of the past by a nation's gratitude, may enjoy many, years to witness in your native land the prosperity and happiness of her sons. We remain, &c."
- ↑ "In certain well-known districts, such as Kilmore in Victoria, where they (the Irish) form the majority of the farming community, they retain to a great extent the national characteristics of their parents."—Edinburgh Review, April, 1868.
- ↑ Port Phillip Herald, June 2, 1840.