Banking Under Difficulties/Chapter 20
CHAPTER XX.
Steam tug-boats had not been introduced on the West Coast in the early part of 1865. Sailing vessels had oftentimes to wait a day or two, until the Nelson or some other coasting steamer came up, before they could cross the bar. One morning a steamer, the Lady Darling, anchored in the roadstead; a passenger by one of the sailing vessels had a whale-boat, which he lowered and went to the steamer, and soon filled up with passengers. People were so anxious to get on shore that they were quite heedless of the risk they ran in crossing the bar in an open boat—at all times a risky thing, owing to the blind rollers rising up unexpectedly. The day was beautifully fine, the sea unusually calm; in fact scarcely a ripple on the water. It soon got rumoured about that an open boat was making for the shore with the evident intention of crossing the bar, and a crowd soon collected on the beach. One man put up a handkerchief on the end of a stick, at the same time running down the beach northward, away from the bar, and signalling the steersman to steer that way. He did so. Everything went well until within half-a-mile of the shore, when a blind roller rose, the boat shot forward with lightning speed, and when the wave passed we saw the boat had capsized, and the passengers swimming for their lives. Two or three of them got on to the boat, but only to be knocked off by the next wave; several struck out for the shore. I noticed one poor fellow who got within a few yards of the beach; the backwater was too strong for him in his weak state, and he was drowned. Another, Ogilvy (the owner of the boat and steersman), who had hold of an oar, by which he kept himself afloat, got ashore senseless. The usual methods for restoring those apparently drowned were used on this occasion, and he eventually recovered. Six out of thirteen were drowned. The bodies were thrown up on the beach within a few hours of the accident. I saw them lying side by side in the lock-up, a melancholy sight it was; all young men cut off in the prime of life. One of the number was married. A day or two after the funeral took place; five bodies were placed in one dray, and that of the married man on another, the wife seated on a chair beside it, wended their way slowly through the busy town to the cemetery, where the burial service was read by a layman. This was the first public funeral in Hokitika.
Sunday, 5th February.—At the Waimea all day; took up my quarters at ——— store; Walmsley at Cassidy’s. We were both very busy during the day. Towards evening I put my saddle-bags, containing gold and notes, in a flour sack. Walmsley came in soon after and put his valise in the same bag, on the top of my saddle-bags. I had no dinner, so asked a storekeeper named G. W——— (formerly in our bank at Otago) to keep an eye on the bag while I went out to get something to eat. W——— was a storekeeper on the Waimea, but being unwell that day, and to be a bit quiet, had come across to ———, and was lying on a kind of bed on the ground. Walmsley was in and out, so away I went to a digger’s tent to get something to eat. My friend had scones and tea, of which I partook, and had a hearty meal. That over, I went back to the store and found the place in a state of commotion. Walmsley’s valise was missing! I didn't ask any questions about my saddle-bags, but walked into the room at the back of the store, where I saw the bushel-bag on the floor, in passing which I gave it a kick, and finding it heavy felt considerably relieved. At the first opportunity I opened it and found the saddle-bags as I had left them, I watched them pretty closely for the remainder of the trip. Walmsley was as cool as if nothing had happened. His valise was gone, and that’s all he could say. Fortunately Broham was on the spot. The loss was reported to him. Both he and Walmsley remained up the whole night. I slept in a small tent with Revell and another. We were greatly annoyed with drunken fellows rolling up against the tent. I was up soon after daylight, and was disgusted to find some old sacks we had rolled up and used as a pillow were quite maggotty: maggots nearly an inch long. Went down to the creek and had a wash, then to ———. Was delighted to hear that Broham had succeeded in finding some of the lost treasure. At daylight Broham, who was on the watch, saw N——— come out of his tent and go to a small terrace, some little distance away. He was not there many minutes when he returned and went into his tent again. As soon as he was inside Broham went to the terrace, and on searching about discovered the valise, with £670 out of the £800 in notes, but no sign of the gold. N——— was taken up on suspicion, but nothing could be proved against him. The value of the gold lost was £920. The loss fell upon the Bank of New Zealand, and Walmsley lost his situation. He was not long idle, for being in want of good officers on the Coast, I recommended our Nelson manager to take him on, which he did at once, sending him down to me.
What became of the missing gold? I think I have a clue to the mysterious affair. Soon after the robbery N——— went to Nelson, paid periodical visits to the Coast, and on every visit sold a small parcel of gold, say from 4 ozs. to 6 ozs.; where he got the gold from no one could tell. He had no store, but he just came by steamer and went away again. Some time after the robbery, say two years (I don’t remember the exact time), there was great excitement one day at the Waimea, a large quantity of gold having been discovered in a stump. It was found in this way:—Some men had been felling a tree, which fell across a hollow stump, on looking into which, the man cutting it up saw what he took to be a speck of gold. He put in his hand, scraped away some chips, and came across a patch of gold—some 60 ozs. or 70 ozs., which I firmly believe was the balance of the gold stolen from Walmsley. The hollow stump was no doubt the place into which it had been put at first, and from whence N——— obtained the small parcels which he sold. Some cruel reports were spread abroad regarding the gold robbery. One was that a sham fight had been got up. Both of the bankers had left their treasure to see the fight, during which time the valise had been stolen. In these days a fight was no novelty, fighting being the order of the day. The great difficulty was to get anything to eat, which was what I was looking after at the time of the robbery.
On the 3rd of September in the same year (1865) Walmsley was stuck-up between Notown and the Twelve Mile by five armed men masked, and robbed of 824 ozs. of gold and £1000 in notes; total value, £4000. He left Notown early in the day, accompanied by William O’Brien, a packer; the gold being divided, O’Brien having 800 ozs. and Walmsley 824 ozs. The road they travelled was down the bed of a creek; thick bush on each side. When about half way he was suddenly surrounded by the robbers, and pulled off his horse before he could even make an attempt to draw his revolver. O’Brien, who was some yards ahead, and hidden from his view by the roundings of the creek, had a gun suddenly presented at his head by one of the gang, who, in presenting it, stumbled and fell. O’Brien put spurs into his horse and galloped away, and so saved 800 ozs. of gold. Walmsley saw nothing of this, and rode into the midst of them. They surrounded him, and had him off his horse in a twinkling. First of all they took away his revolver; then possessed themselves of his treasure. Walmsley turned round to have a look at them to see how they were dressed, so that he could recognise them again, but two of the number drew revolvers, which they placed at his head, and swore that if he moved one inch they would blow his brains out. O’Brien only saw one of the party, and was not sure that Walmsley had been stuck-up until he rode into the Twelve Mile and reported the affair at the camp. The police—old Nelson identities—were quite unprepared for any such emergency, and took fully an hour to get ready for the pursuit. Of course such a start in so thickly-bushed a country was everything in the robbers’ favour. Walmsley came on to Hokitika the same night, and reported the matter to me. I at once went over to the camp and informed Inspector Broham of the robbery, and within half-an-hour he, two detectives, Walmsley, and myself were on the road to the Grey, which we reached soon after daylight. We lost no time, but pushed on to the Twelve Mile, where I remained. Broham and the detectives first visited the scene of the robbery. They then started in pursuit of the robbers. They were out some days, and arrested four men on suspicion. One of the number, I afterwards heard, was one of the gang; but, unfortunately, the police could not bring the charge home to them. This affair determined the banks doing business at the rush (Notown) to withdraw and close their offices, and about three weeks after the robbery an escort arrived and all left, forming a strong party—some seventeen in all—well armed, with van and rear-guard. We proceeded to the Twelve Mile, and thence by canoes to the Grey. I don’t remember the names of all the escort, but the following did duty on that occasion:—D. Walmsley, G. F. Martin, and G. O. Preshaw, Bank of New South Wales; C. S. Allen and George Kirton, Bank of New Zealand; J. P. Martin, Union Bank; Inspector Broham and Sergeant O’Donnell, of police force.
There was some talk of a gang being formed to stick up the escort, and great doubts were entertained whether we should reach our destination in safety. We did, however, and glad I was when I saw our treasure safely deposited at the Grey. Walmsley’s bad luck still stuck to him. In the early part of 1869 he again met with a loss. The banks doing business at Brighton had closed their agencies there, and the agents were bringing on horseback to Charlestown, the bullion, cash, &c. Soon after their arrival at Charlestown it became known that some half-sovereigns had been picked up on the road. This excited suspicion, and the agents at once counted their cash. The New Zealand agent found his correct; not so with Walmsley, who discovered that he was £160 short in his gold coin. A nail in the pack-saddle had penetrated one of the bags containing the gold coin, and by the jolting of the horse the money had been shaken out. Walmsley rode back, and about four miles from Charlestown found quite a rush of persons on the road raking and sweeping up the dust. He was only fortunate enough to pick up some £3 10s. In this case he had been particularly careful. His half-sovereigns he put in a small bag; this he put in a larger bag; these with some notes he rolled up in a sack, which he placed into another sack, carefully sewing them up. A nail in the pack-saddle had worked a small hole through the four bags, and just large enough for a half-sovereign to fall through, which they must have done one by one.
The following extract is from the Westport Times:—
“1st February, 1869.—The Banks of New Zealand and New South Wales have lately closed their agencies in Brighton, and the agents were bringing to Charlestown, on pack-horses, the books and papers of the two offices, and their gold and cash. After their arrival in Charlestown it became known that between that place and Brighton some travellers had been picking up brand new sovereigns or half-sovereigns in situations where current coin of the realm is not usually to be found. It is nothing unusual in that particular district to find gold amongst shingle and sand, but it was a phenomenon even to old diggers, to find it bearing Her Majesty’s image, and the mark of the mint. Suspicions were excited, and the bank agents wisely counted their cash. The Bank of New Zealand agent found his correct. The agent of the Bank of New South Wales did not, and it is said that a deficiency of about £150 was discovered, and it was further discovered that what had happened at Hokitika had happened here. A nail in the pack-saddle had penetrated one of the saddle-bags containing gold coin, and, by the jolting of the horse, the money had been shaken out along the road by which the party had come. An immediate and diligent search was of course made on behalf of the bank, but we believe it resulted in the recovery of only some £3 10s. The officials and the police had been anticipated by some persons who had got upon the trail some time sooner, and it is probable that some of the money remains yet to be found, concealed as it has probably been by traffic along the sands. Future travellers by the beach road may yet benefit themselves, or, if they are honest, the bank, by making it a part of the object of their journey to search for some of the undiscovered coin. It is not recorded that as yet anyone has discovered more than a few half-sovereigns, or has thought of delivering the same to the bank. It is insinuated, however, that there was for one night a considerable amount of spare cash among some people at Charlestown, and that there was more liberality in the matter of ‘shouting’ than is usual at the present dry season and dull times. Some are said to have recognised the occurrence as a ‘special Providence,’ happening as it has done when money is rather scarce, and when, for want of water, the metal in its pure state is not procurable. Mr. Walmsley is said to have been the agent in whose charge the money nominally was at the time of the loss, and, if that is the case, Mr. Walmsley has certainly very bad luck, for it is not the first or the second occasion on which he has been associated with similarly purely accidental but unfortunate circumstances.”
This being the third loss made by Walmsley, the bank authorities, naturally enough, came to the conclusion that he must be a very careless man, and so wrote to me. Knowing him to be anything but that—in fact a most careful, steady man—I replied to this effect:—That at first sight it did seem strange that Mr. Walmsley was so unfortunate, but not so when one took into consideration that he was the officer in our service on the Coast who was called upon to do the risky work, and so long as he was in that position any losses made by sticking-up, or such as that above stated, would fall to his lot. Other men might be in the service for a lifetime and never lose a penny, and for the simple reason that they were never called upon to run any risk. We were not the only bank that made losses in this way. Some time in 1865 a bag of gold which contained 230 ozs. belonging to the Union Bank was dropped while under escort from Waimea to Hokitika. and although the track was closely searched from end to end not a trace of the missing treasure could be discovered. It was, however, found in the month of January, 1866.
The West Coast Times reports 5th January, 1866:—
“It will be remembered that some three months ago a bag of gold which contained 230 ozs., belonging to the Union Bank, was dropped while under escort from Waimea to Hokitika, and although the track was closely searched by the police from end to end, not a trace of the missing treasure could be discovered. It has, however, undoubtedly turned up at last. On Saturday week extraordinary rumours were current in town to the effect that heavy gold had been discovered at the back of the hospital, women and children picking up gold in handfuls, and that a richer patch had not been struck on any Westland beach. It appears that some packers were leaving town for some of the northern beaches, when one of the horses, in kicking up the sand, unearthed a number of glittering specks, which upon examination proved to be gold-dust. A closer inspection revealed a quantity of the metal, which, of course, was carefully collected. Early next morning this lucky find became known, and resulted in quite a scene in front of the Prince of Wales Hotel. On proceeding to the back of the houses, where at some waterholes many were seen washing out the sand, we saw such results as convinced us there was no exaggeration, but that gold was being obtained in considerable quantities. Many were the prospects washed, varying from a few grains to 2 and 3 dwts.; but the richest sand had been collected into little heaps, and there lay to be washed at leisure, after the rush had subsided. How this gold was originally deposited may to some appear unaccountable, but we feel assured that the mystery of the lost bag of Waimea gold is at last cleared up. Some aver that in a very few minutes 108 ozs. was their reward; but whether it was so much is uncertain, although it is accepted as an indisputable fact that at least 40 ozs. were obtained by the seekers. Many of the after-comers did remarkably well; indeed, we heard of one party whose dirt would average 1 oz. to the dish, and many others managed to secure for their day’s work from 1 oz. to 20 ozs. Our assumption that the bag was not damaged before it fell from the pack-saddle is borne out by the fact that no gold had been found further along the track. The gold lay in a patch, not very wide, but about forty yards long, evidently so formed by horses passing to and fro, who kicked the main deposit as it lay on the ground, and scattered the gold along the road.”
