Many stories have been told of the extravagance of diggers on the early goldlields of Victoria. We have heard of “Champagne Charleys” by the score, and have seen some of them. But we question if there were many better opportunities in goldfields’ history of making a small “pile” quickly, than was afforded in the “shilling nobbler” days of Hokitika. General pool, at a pound each, with five shillings “a life,” was a nightly occurrence amongst dozens of the lovers of the green cloth. Prepayment of three shillings for the use of a blanket on the floor or dining table, with half-a-dozen fellows gambling at your feet or head the whole night through, and disturbing your slumbers by going “five pounds better” every five minutes, was by no means an uncommon incident. A large theatre, now known as the Duke of Edinburgh, was built, and it was opened every night to crammed houses at high prices. There was a large police force stationed in Hokitika, and, truth to say, the force was wanted. The scum of the colonies, attracted by the news of wonderful and rapid “piles” made on the hitherto unknown West Coast of New Zealand, poured into Hokitika side by side with the honest and adventurous digger-pioneer, the speculative dealer, and the wandering billet-seeker. Thus it came about that in the early days, Hokitika was sadly put to it, to cope with her criminal population. In the Police Camp, situated where now stands the Town Hall, was gathered a mass of humanity. Mr Sale—King Sale, the Canterbury Commissioner—the Warden, the Police Inspector, with his force of thirty men, some forty prisoners waiting trial, were all congregated in the hive known as the Camp. There was no gaol then, only a lock-up. Prisoners committed had to be escorted over the range to Canterbury for trial. The place indeed out-grew itself. The authorities could not grapple with the wonderful flow of population. Gradually, however, matters grew more settled. An Improvement Committee, which did good work in the very early days, gave place to the Borough of Hokitika, of which Mr Bonar (now the Hon. J. A. Bonar, M.L.C.) was the first Mayor elected by the Council. He was succeeded by Mr Shaw, then proprietor of the West Coast Times, who was elected by the ratepayers. Streets, which up to this were simply quagmires, were formed. The township extended rapidly into the bush, the more rapidly as many of the original residents, who had neglected the biblical advice not to build upon the sand, had to lament the destruction of their tenements by the waves of the Pacific Ocean. Let me here recall to view one of the pictures to be met with on the beach in those days. A stranger visiting Hokitika for the first time, and not previously apprised of the unenviable notoriety which the port had gained for itself since the West Coast was rushed, would be struck with astonishment at the multitude of wrecks and remains of wrecks with which the beach was covered. From the entrance to the river to where the “Montezuma” had been cast high and dry on the sands, the picture was one that could not be equalled in the Colony, and perhaps not in the world. In one spot the last remnants of the “Oak” might be observed; further on, a confused mass of ruin, a heap of splintered planks and ribs, marked the place where the “Sir Francis Drake” and the “Rosella” finally succumbed to the force of the waves. Yonder could be seen the
