The Chronicles of Early Melbourne/Volume 1/Chapter 16
CHAPTER XVI. MELBOURNE "UNDER FIRE," WATER AND SNOW.
SYNOPSIS:—The First Incendiarism—" Billy," the Newfoundlander, Collars a Prisoner. —The Effect of a Dust Storm.A Mysterious Fire.—First Extensive Conflagration.—Destruction of Dr. Clutterbuck's Residence.—Another Destructive Fire in Collins Street.—£ro,ooo worth of Property Destroyed.—Destruction of Condells Brewery.— Burning of Liddy and Passfieltfs Coach Factory.— The First Fire in Bourke Street. —First Fire in Fitzroy.— Fire at Messrs. Langlands' Foundry. — The Last Old Fire.—Six Great Floods.—Melbourne's Only Snowstorm. THE FIRST INCENDIARISM.
HE earliest fire, of which there is no printed account, was perhaps (though certainly not from its extent, or the losses sustained) the most peculiar that has occurred in the Colony. It is difficult to draw a straight line between arson and incendiarism, or to tell where the one begins and the other ends. Incendiarism has been defined as " the felony of arson," and to m y mind the first conflagration in Melbourne belongs to the higher rather than to the lower grade of the offence. In 1838, the wattle-and-daub guard-house-<r«/«-lockup, described in a previous chapter, was one night unusually well filled with inmates, black and white, military and civilians, if the Aboriginals can be included in the latter category. It was situated midway between Collins and Little Collins Streets West. O n e day a party of the mounted police brought into Melbourne half-a-dozen blackfellows, arrested on a charge of stealing sheep at Keilor, and they were deposited in the watch-house. Night came on, and the weather was sufficiently cold to m a k e a fire agreeable. Firewood was in abundance, and a heap of logs was lighted in the guard-house. T h e guard were chattering and smoking, and probably on too familiar terms with the abominable rum of which there was an abundance amongst the soldiers, convicts, and sailors in port. Perhaps, through the conjoint influence of the heat and the smoke, the fumes and the potations, added to the supposition that the prisoners would never even dream of an escape, the sentinels not only fell asleep at their post, but snored stertorously. Suspended from the ceiling swung a rude lamp, the guttering tallowy flame from which was sufficient to m a k e darkness visible, but for the logs which blazed merrily on the hearth. In the door separating the prison from the parlour part of the structure, was cut a'circular aperture, serving the double purpose of ventilating the interior den, and affording a peep-hole through which the guard could occasionally reconnoitre the prisoners inside. T h e structure was of the most combustible material, and the roof or covering was composed of a kind of long white reed then growing in the swampy hollows about the township. T h e darkies beheld through the spy-hole h o w it was faring with the whites outside, and the possibility of escape flashed on their benighted minds. H o w to do so was the question. T h e door was fastened on the outside, and it could not be forced without awaking the slumberers, in which case all hope would be over; and in this state of pondering uncertainty, an old blackfellow, more astute than his companions, proposed that the place should befired,and the flames and confusion would give an almost certain chance of getting away. This suggestion was not only approved but acted on. T h e roof reeds were several feet in length ; and quietly detaching some of these, the prisoners ran them through the port-hole in the door, lit the tops from the lamp, and then ignited the roof in several places with as m u c h sang froid as a lamp-lighter would light one of our street lamps. In five minutes the whole place was a fierce burning pile; the soldiers roused from their repose by the smoke and flames, put it down as an accident, and ran away to sound the alarm at the neighbouring barracks. T h e entire detachment turned out, but only to find the guard-house and its appurtenance a heap of ashes, and all the prisoners off, except one fellow, w h o was collared and detained by a Newfoundland dog, a hanger-on at the barracks, who used to take it into his head to remain with the guard as company. This night he was out with them, and, as the sequel showed, probably the only rational and sober individual ofthe lot. A shedful of salt junk required for convict rations was also destroyed. A second version I have heard of this extraordinary affair is that there was no circular hole in the door; but an opening at the bottom intervened between the door and the floor; and that the blacks got some of the reeds, and, fastening them by the end sufficiently long to reach across the guard-room to the fire, ran them under the door, and thus set fire to the place. I have received both accounts from two gentlemen still alive in Melbourne, and whose veracity is beyond question ; but with one or the other, m e m o r y in dealing with an event offiftyyears ago, m a y be unwittingly at fault. However, of the burning of the place by the Aboriginal sheep thieves, there can be no possible doubt, as well as that all the black incendiaries escaped, except the fellow so gallantly " d o g g e d " in his flight by the "unrum'd" and wakeful Newfoundlander, w h o responded to the unaristocratic cognomen of " Billy." Dust in Melbourne is no n e w nuisance, and, like the hot winds of old, the dust storms were such as are seldom equalled in modern times. Of course, there is more traffic n o w to kick up a dust, but as a counter-blast the streets are well macadamized, and the footways asphalted and flagged. T h o u g h there was not m u c h walking, or tramping, or carting through the streets forty orfiftyyears ago, the dust was in such thick layers from the drying up of the winter slush and m u d , that, w h e n a stiff wind c a m e on in the dry weather, it was a "blinder" with a vengeance. A singular instance, the effect of a dust-hurricane, occurred on the 29th January, 1839. T h e morning wasfiercelyhot, and the wind freshened about noon. At 2 p.m. an immense cloud of dust swept along from the north over the small town, and for more thanfiveminutes an almost total darkness prevailed. There was a cluster of three buildings—one a blacksmith's forgenearly opposite the present Post-office in Elizabeth Street; and after the storm had passed away, two of these were levelled with the ground, and the forge was reduced to ashes. Luckily the inmates of the two tenements were not at h o m e at the time ; but the disciple of Vulcan, in trying to save his bellows and belongings, had a narrow escape. All he rescued was his anvil, because it was fireproof. His name was Blair, and he was a tradesman of good repute and m u c h liked. A few of the townspeople started a subscription to enable him to re-open the forge, but from the limited population of the time it could not be a very remunerative movement. T h e captain of a schooner which arrived in port the following morning, declared that he had observed indications of the dust twenty miles out at sea. Towards the middle of the year a two-storied store, occupied by M r . J. M . Chisholm, was destroyed by afire,as to the origin of which there was a good deal of mysterious gossip. All, however, that was ever publicly k n o w n was that a fire broke out in the place, which was speedily burned down, and both building and stock were insured for an amount that amply covered any losses sustained. M r . Chisholm was a prominent townsman in Melbourne, and for some time thereafter, the Chisholm establishment continued in a re-built condition on the same frontage in Collins Street, where the recent fashionable and popular emporium of Messrs. Alston and Brown stood, but n o w bears the historic, and somewhat pretentious n a m e of " Rothschild Chambers." In 1840 there was a small shop at the north-eastern corner of Q u e e n and Collins Streets, kept by M r . Hart, a m e m b e r of the Jewish persuasion; and young Hart having suddenly dropped dead, the same night (in compliance with a Jewish custom) Messrs. M . Cashmore and J. Fonsaker sat up as watchers with the corpse. T h e building was single storied, and in the midst of their vigil, the watchers were astounded by the concern taking fire and blazing about their ears. Cremation was not a recognised m o d e of sepulture with them, and to rescue the body from such an unearthly fate, they had to carry it away on their joined arms to the opposite corner, then unbuilt u p o n ; they then hurried back to extinguish thefire,in which they partially succeeded. THE FIRST LARGE FIRE IN MELBOURNE. The first extensive conflagration occurred on Sunday, 2nd October, 1842, at the residence of Dr. Clutterbuck, one of thefirstmedicoes w h o settled in that n o w fashionable doctors' quarter, Collins Street
East. It was a comfortable, English built, wooden villa, erected a little westward of the present Melbourne Club. The forenoon was fine, the doctor's family had gone to church, himself pottering somewhere about,the cook was getting the Sabbath dinner under weigh, and a housemaid engaged dusting up. A fire was in the drawing-room, where the doctor's dressing-gown was getting aired, when a sudden gust of wind blew the tail of the garment into the flame, and there was an instantaneous flare-up. T h e issue of smoke from the room was thefirstindication the inmates had of the accident, and the culinary helpflewoff to hunt up the master, and tell him what had happened. T h e doctor took it very coolly, and on re-entering the house, instead of giving an alarm, or making any attempt to extinguish the flames, though part of the room was in a blaze, turned himself to get together articles of special value in the way of plate, ornaments or nic-nacks, which he packed into a case, and with the aid of the servants removed them into the yard out of harm's way. T h e fire had n o w itsfling,and as the materials of which the place was constructed were thoroughly seasoned, half covered with tarpaulins, and paper-lined, they burned freely, and before any assistance could be rendered were a heap of charcoal. " Cumberland Cottage," a weather-board residence close by, shared the same fate. T h e two places were so rapidly consumed that there was not time for any possible help to be available. It was about eleven o'clock; the churches were deserted, and the ministers preached to empty benches. Anything like even an attempt to aid was useless, and the multitude had only to look on. Just eastward of Dr. Clutterbuck's was a newly erected building of two stories, into which it was the doctor's intention to remove, and with that view, only on the day before he had some pictures, books, piano, sofa, chairs, & c , transferred there. It was thought that they were out of harm's reach, but thefirecaught hold of some wood-work, and jumping to the shingled roof of the other house was soon like a bailiff going down a chimney, in possession. T h e place was fastened up and the police (with the military now present) burst open the front door in order to save the valuables therein. T h e piano, pictures and books were saved, but the latter were so crisped by the heat as to be unreadable. At noon the floor of this building fell in with such a crash, as in the language of an old newspaper " made the assembled crowd believe a cannon had been fired." In the doctor's timber mansion, there was a brick cellar tolerablyfire-proof,and which he always kept well-stocked. It escaped the clutches of thefire,but not the cupidity of the m o b by w h o m it was discovered and sacked of its contents. A scene of dissipation followed, for, plus the disorganized efforts to extinguish the flames, the behaviour of a horde of intoxicated ruffians, w h o acted like a troop of infuriated demons—begrimed with dust and s m o k e — w a s disgraceful in the extreme. T h e doctor's drinkables were all carried away, and distributed through the town, the result of which was manifested by the incessant drunken rows indulged in in the streets until late that night, in which not only men, but w o m e n and boys engaged, and were pulled promiscuously out of the channels by the police. T h e next day a "plant" of the stolen liquor was "sprung" from one of the several large gullies then abounding in the now fascinating Fitzroy gardens. T h e building where thefirecommenced was insured for .£500, and the doctor's furniture for ,£500 more, but as a good deal of the latter had been removed to the two-storied house, and consequently not covered by the policy, not a sixth of the amount could be claimed. The wearing apparel of Dr. Clutterbuck and bis family was destroyed, and the doctor was reduced to such straits that he had to borrow a coat and belltopper to complete his professional rig-out for the remainder of the Sabbath, His loss was estimated at £1000.
Destructive Fire in Collins Street West.
Exactly a fortnight after (16th October), and on a Sunday, too, but at night, and at the other end of Collins Street, occurred the most destructive fire witnessed in Old Melbourne. Mr. A. H . Hart occupied premises opposite the Bank of Australasia, and carried on business as a linen-draper in what was known as "Commercial House." About n p.m., a shopman on the premises perceiving that the place was on fire hastened to inform his employer, w h o had retired for the night, and when the front door was burst open, the flames broke out furiously, and the whole establishment was in a blaze. Shopkeepers, in those times usually resided under the same roof as their shops, and, consequently, in this case, several of the inmates had to fly half-naked into the street, and a second shopman and a lad—nephew of the proprietor, w h o slept in a room adjoining the shop—were with difficulty rescued. T h e alarm of fire n o w became general, church bells rang, and police and private watchmen ran about singing out " Fire!" A large crowd quickly congregated, but there were then few means and appliances to wrestle with a conflagration. Mr. T. C. Riddle, the occupant of the next shop, lost no time in moving his family to a place of safety. There was a large handsome building to the west known as the Melbourne Chambers used as the Savings Bank, as well as offices and business premises, and fearing thefirehad extended to this, the front door was forced open and steps taken to secure any valuable property therein. Three adjoining shops (Riddle's, Plart's and M'Gregor's) were completely in the grasp of the enemy, and amongst them in thefirstand second stories thefireplayed up without interruption. A strong westerly wind was blowing, wafting red flakes of burning material in the direction of Queen Street. T h e only supply of water was from the Yarra, by means of a p u m p and a water-cart. Luckily the river was not far off, and the watercarriers worked well, but unluckily there was no m o d e of applying thefluid,for the time was anterior to the era of eitherfire-brigadeor engine. T h e only substitute for the Y a n Yean hose was the primitive bucket, while the number of borrowed buckets available was very limited, and nothing even like a suitable ladder was on the ground. W e t blanketing and bucketing were resorted to as far as possible, but a new source of alarm stepped in, as between the Melbourne Chambers and Little Flinders Street rearward there was a congeries of weather-board, wattle-and-daub shanties—where people and merchandise were stowed away in so-called dwellings and stores—and the smallest brand from the burning would burst up this quarter as if it were a huge heap of well-dried fuel. If this happened, there was no foretelling the consequences, as that portion of the town was then studded with cribs of every imaginable shape, and used as receptacles for all sorts of commodities. T h e military (a detachment of the 8oth regiment) and police were on the spot to maintain order and save property. A considerable quantity of valuables of different kinds was saved, though salvage was to a great extent a misnomer; sofas, chairs and tables being dashed about the streets, with the most reckless levity or criminality. A good deal of the stocks-in-trade of the destroyed premises was rescued. All this time thefirewas pelting away furiously, and showed an inclination to mount the roof of the Melbourne Chambers, and the store of Messrs. Turnbull, Orr, and Co. adjoining. T h e bucket-holders, no matter h o w willing, could not possibly jump up to the tops of two-storied houses, and the few crippled ladders available were just as incapable of doing so. Everyone began to shout for a tall ladder, and in due time one was forthcoming. Turnbull and Orr, merchants, had now arrived, and some bales of blankets were obtained from their store, well saturated with water, hoisc^d up aloft and spread along the roofs most exposed to the fire. At the rear of Hart's was a brick skillion, the shingled roof of which was torn away in good time to save a wooden dwelling placed within a foot of it, and had a very narrow escape. At the rear of the Melbourne Chambers ran a range of wooden buildings, communicating by a door, and this thoroughfare was, on the suggestion of the Chief-Constable, plugged u p with bricks in place of wood, a precaution which, it was thought, had saved the whole area from Queen to Market Streets, including the Melbourne Club-house and the Union Bank. T h e fire went on, glutting itself on the premises of Messrs. Hart and Riddle, and the Melbourne Chambers. T h e twofirstwere utterly destroyed, and the third left a complete wreck. The Police Magistrate (Major St. John), arrived before midnight, and proceeded with his usual impulsiveness, to swear in special constables at sight, for the preservation of order and property. About 2 a.m. thefirehad pretty well become exhausted, and as all risk of its spreading was over, people began to think of returning to their beds, and the military and police were posted as guards in the street. Next day it was ascertained that Turnbull, Orr and Co.'s goods and furniture were insured for ^ 1 5 0 0 , and their loss by plunder and breakage was reckoned at about ,£500. Mr. W . H . Cropper, a wine and spirit merchant, who occupied part of the Chambers, saved the most of his stock. H e was not insured. Hart's house was insured for a £ 1 0 0 0 , and his stock for ,£300, but he lost considerably. All his personal effects were destroyed, and thefirepushed him so unmercifully that he was left with only the trousers and shirt in which he stood. Mr. M'Gregor who had only just commenced business as a jeweller and watchmaker, lost a valuable stock which was uninsured, and Riddle's destruction of property was estimated at ^ 1 0 0 0 , but luckily he was covered by insurance. During the night the establishment of Messrs. Annand, Smith and Company, grocers and general dealers, at the north-east corner of Queen and Collins Streets, was rushed by the m o b on pretence of saving it, though it was far removed from any possible danger Plunder was evidently the object of such assumed solicitude, and so the place was gutted to the extent of something like ,£500. Amongst the townsmen who distinguished themselves in endeavouring to check the disaster are specially mentioned, Messrs. William Wright, Oliver Gourlay, J. B. Quarry, James Purvis, D. S. Campbell, with Drs. C. J. Sanford and W. H. Campbell. The Melbourne Insurance Company would lose about ,£6000, as Hart, Riddle, Turnbull, Orr and Co. had insured with it. At the time of the calamity, Mr. E. Curr, the owner of Melbourne Chambers, had a proposal for its insurance for ^£1200, under consideration of an office in Sydney, and the result was not known. It was afterwards ascertained that the acceptance was not obtained in time. Shortly after the breaking out of thefireall the books and papers of the Savings Bank and the Insurance Company were removed from the Chambers and sent across the street for safe-keeping at the Bank of Australasia, which had also made preparations to take in the valuable securities of the Union Bank, corner of Queen and Little Flinders Streets. At one period of the night, when there was some apprehension that theflamesmight take a wide circuit, and make a raid upon the south central line of Collins and other streets, books, notes, coin, etc., were packed ready to be moved from harm's way ; but the emergency did not occur, and the managerial panic subsided. The origin of the fire was a mystery, though rumour accounted for it in that Hart, who was near-sighted, passed through the shop with a lighted candle, and had setfireto some pieces of gauze ; but this he positively denied, declaring that his shop had been closed as usual on the Saturday night, and not re-opened, and, consequently, not entered until thefirewas discovered. Property in all to the value of ,£10,000 was reported to have been destroyed, and much indignation was expressed at the culpably gross neglect of the Insurance Company, in omitting to have anyfirepreventive appliances in readiness, not even a proper ladder or bucket, much less anything in the guise of a fire-engine. The church bells invariably rung out the alarm offirewhenever such a casualty occurred, and again on a Sunday morning (9th March, 1845),tneY tolled for other than Divine service, for afireoccurred at an auction mart, kept by a Mr. Boyd, next door east of the Royal Hotel (now Union Bank) in Collins Street. The previous weather had been so hot that almost everything was in an ignitible condition, and it was supposed that there was a feast of rats in the auction room, and that the rodents were enjoying themselves on lucifer—hence the mishap. The police, military, and an immense crowd were soon on the spot, but not until considerable property was destroyed, not only by thefire,but by the ill-directed zeal of the mob. The auction-room was reduced to something like a charred shell, but the upper story and back buildings were uninjured.
THe First Fire at a Brewery.
Mr. Henry Condell, the first Mayor of Melbourne, was a brewer, and his establishment and residence were situated in Little Bourke Street, a short distance east of the north-eastern corner of Swanston and Little Bourke Streets, adjoining the now Condell Lane. About 8.30 p.m., of the 15th July, 184^ some street Arabs, in passing, observed smoke in large volumes issuing from the malt-house, and gave an alarm Flames immediately after burst through the roof, and in ten minutes the whole place was a huge burning mass. The wind was blowing from the north-east, and the glare illuminated the town, like an electric light Thefireraged with much fury, and occasionally a tongue offlame,yielding before the wind, would throw itself across the narrow street, almost touching the houses on the opposite side. Crowds hastened to the spot; the police were there; a detachment of the 99th regiment, commanded by Lieutenant Blamire was speedily turned out, and the Mayor (Dr. Palmer) drove up in hot haste. The Cornwall Insurance Company had an engine in Melbourne, and it soon arrived. Condell's residence was in great danger, and it was little short of a miracle that it escaped ; but it did, at the expense of torn-away doors, smashed windows broken furniture, and much dilapidation, a deal of unnecessary damage, as usual, resulting from the over zeal and mischievous tendencies of those present. Thefire-enginewas of some service in playing upon the malt-house; and it would be impossible to exceed the daring and activity of some of the townsmen in scaling walls, removing property and bucketing water, a good supply of which was kept up by the water carters, who then served the town from the Yarra pumps. Three clergymen were conspicuous in the' exertions to control and stimulate the efforts of the numerous army of volunteers. They were the Re • P B. Geoghegan and R. Walshe (Roman Catholic), and James Forbes (Presbyterian). The Mayor was also indefatigable, but too fussy. Lieutenant Blamire worked his red-coated contingent to much advantage, and the following residents (all publicans) deserved honourable mention for their praiseworthy activity, and disregard of personal danger, viz. :—Messrs. J. S. Johnson, of the Southern Cross; J. G. Taylor, Bakers' Arms; Kennetli Bethune, The Star Lnn; Michael Lynch, The Rising Sun; William Mortimer, The Crown Lnn; and E. C. Greene, The British Hotel. T h efire,which had confined itself to the brewery, burned out about io o'clock. T h e loss amounted to some £700, and there was no insurance. T h e fire was supposed to have been caused by the overheating of a kiln ; and it had the good effect of expediting the organization of a fire-brigade—an institution often talked of. In the afternoon of the 30th January, 1846, afirebroke out on the premises of Mr. T. B. Darling, a chemist, at the east side of Elizabeth Street, between Collins and Little Collins Streets. It originated in a weatherboard out-house, used as a laboratory, through the bursting of a pipe worked in the distillation of lavender water; and in ten minutes the structure was a heap of ashes, the proprietor losing about ,£150. This was the occasion of the debut of a newly-establishedfire-brigade,and it did its duty well by means ofthe Cornwall Insurance Company's engine. T h e wind, as has been often remarked, is prone to shiftiness in seasons of conflagration, and on this occasion it luckily changed its direction, for, had it not done so, the Melbourne Tavern close-by, and Darling's other property, would have shared the fate of the laboratory. FIRE IN A COACH FACTORY.
In the olden time the north-east corner of Collins and Queen Streets was occupied by an extensive grocery establishment kept by Annand, Smith and C o , a well-known firm. T h e place was for years known by no other n a m e than " Annand's Corner," and adjoining it in Queen Street was a coach factory, kept by two equally well-known Melbournians—Messrs. Liddy and Passfield. Next to Annand and Smith's, in Collins Street, was a saddler's shop, worked by a M r . T h o m a s Hamilton, and at its rear was a shed, adjoining Liddy and Passfield's workshop, and here on the 16th September, 1846, a fire was believed to have originated, the whole building being suddenly in flames. This happened about 3 o'clock p.m. just as M r . J. 'P. Smith was riding by. H e was the first to observe it, gave the alarm, and galloped away to s u m m o n the aid of the police and military. T h e inevitable crowd wasfirston the ground, though Chief-Constable Sugden (superintendent of thefire-brigade),with his brigadiers and the Cornwall engine, were not m u c h behind. T h e engine did but little service, for it was no sooner got to work than a pipe burst and it had to give up. T h e water-carriers, however, stood like m e n to their guns—or, rather, to their barrels—and, by the united help of a good supply of the Yarrafluid,and unwearied bucketing, the extension of the fire was prevented, and Annand and Smith's place saved. It was said they had 2000 lbs. of gunpowder stored away here (there was then no magazine), and if this had been touched there would have been a blow-up, the consequences of which it would be hard to calculate. It was fortunate that the occurrence did not happen at night. A s it was, Liddy and Passfield were the only sufferers to the extent of a few hundred pounds. W h a t was nearly eventuating in a fatal accident occurred to one T h o m a s Aldorough, whilst on the roof rendering assistance. H e fell through, and was m u c h injured, but was dragged out of thefirein time to save his life. Several townsmen rendered valuable service on the occasion, and their names, as given in some of the ancient annals, were :—Messrs. D. C. M'Arthur and C. L. Hussey (manager and teller of the Bank of Australasia), John O'Shanassy, James Purves, William R. Belcher (clerk of Police Court), W m . Finn, M . Croker, and William Pender. THE FIRST FIPE IN BOURKE STREET.
In 1848 there stood midway between Queen and Elizabeth Streets, on the north side of Bourke Street, a tavern of more than questionable reputation, known as the Golden Fleece, and from near its Eastern side there ran a range of wooden, ginger-bread looking tenements, not continuous, for at every third or fourth one there was a hiatus in the form of an unbuilt-on allotment, fenced or unfenced does not m u c h matter. T w o of the houses adjoining were severally occupied by Nathan, a clothier, and Clay, a dealer of the "Johnny all sorts" species, whilst Michael M'Culla, a blacksmith, resided in a two-storied edifice at the rear. Clay's wife was being nursed by her husband, w h o sat up with her at night H e did so on the 23rd June, but fell asleep without extinguishing a candle, which, left burning by the bedside, communicated with a curtain and ignited it. About 1 o'clock on the morning of the 24th, the napping husband was hastily awoke from his slumber, the poor wife was after m u c h difficulty and .risk, rescued from imminent death, and conveyed to a friendly house in the neighbourhood. T h e flames spreading rapidly to some of the adjacent places, the group was a huge pillar of fire. T h e police, military, the Mayor (Mr. A. Russell), and several leading citizens were promptly on the spot, but the firebrigade arrived just in time to be too late. W h e n about to start the engine, no horse could be obtained to draw it, whereupon the foreman (Dalton) triced on some of the men, w h o pulled it merrily along up Elizabeth Street, until getting into a quagmire near the Post Office, there the whole lot (animate and inanimate) stuck, and were not extricated until the worst of the fire was over. T h efireburned out in an hour and a-half, when it was ascertained that three of the houses fronting the street, and the workshop of Denis Leary (a cooper), were destroyed. M'Culla's house at the back had also gone to ashes, and the butcher's shop of one O'Brien had a wonderful escape. Nathan was completely burned out, but M'Culla saved his furniture, and his loss was lessened through having had a clearing-out sale at his place a couple of days before. Clay had ,£13 in notes destroyed, and Leary had withdrawn a s u m of money from the bank only the day before. This also disappeared, but whether burned or stolen could not be ascertained. T h e day after, a cash-box was picked up amongst the debris, containing some money which was uninjured. A Mr. Douglas, one of the theatrical company then playing in town, was a lodger at one of the places, and the fire bereft him of everything. Property to the extent of ,£500 was destroyed, exclusive of the buildings, four in number. Such as they were, there was no insurance effected. Amongst the individuals w h o distinguished themselves in assisting, were Messrs. E. Grimes, and H . W . Smythe (Crown Lands Commissioners), J. O'Shanassy, Frank and James Stephen, H . Condell, H . Moor, T. Robinson, and C. Campbell. Michael Jordan, a bricklayer, was very active, and obtained m u c h praise for his exertions. Chief-Constable Sugden and his town police worked well, but general dissatisfaction was expressed with the inefficiency of the fire-brigade.
THE FIRST FIRE IN FITZROY.
About 3 o'clock on the morning of the 23rd January, 1850, a fire broke out in the rear of the house of a quarryman named Wells, in William (now Moor) Street, Fitzroy, by which two dwellings, a stable and portion of three other premises were destroyed. It originated by a m a n smoking in the stable and so firing some straw. There was also a horse there, and although the m a n was drunk the brute was not, and it was by the neighing and prancing of the scared animal that the occurrence was discovered. T h e man-beast escaped unhurt, but his companion was well singed, though not otherwise seriously damaged. T h e fire speedily reached the dwellings, and burst forth in such a luminous body as to light up the tower of St Peter's Church, the then next prominent building, and it was seen from all parts of Melbourne, spreading general alarm and inducing crowds to gather from every point of the compass. T h e Superintendent of Police (Mr. Sturt), Chief-Constable Bloomfield, and all their available force were speedily on the ground T h efire-brigadewas there too, but without either engine or water. There were plenty of water-carriers driving about, swearing and vociferating with willing horses and empty barrels, everywhere in quest of water but not a drop, though in the hot wind season, was to be found, for on that night, above all others there was not a single p u m p in working order at the Yarra, and the not-long-established Water Company's tank at the north-east corner of Elizabeth and Flinders Streets was quite dry. In Wells' house was a cask containing 25lbs. of quarrying powder; thefirewas hemming it in, and great were the fears of a terrible explosion. Numbers hesitated to go near it, until one man, named Allcock, fearlessly rushed into the blazing circle and brought away the cask in his arms. This act of undoubted heroism was rapturously applauded, but beyond the empty praise of the moment, this gallant fellow's intrepidity was never further recognised. If the wind had chanced to blow westerly, nothing could have saved the twenty or thirty buildings crammed together in the immediate neighbourhood. A s it was, Wells was the only sufferer
and he was ruined, for all the burned down tenements were his, and uninsured. The First Fire at a Foundry.
The earliest foundry in Melbourne was that of the Messrs. Langlands, in Flinders Street, the members of which firm were much esteemed for their respectability and enterprise. If public opinion could have anything to say on the question, this foundry would most certainly have been spared the casualty about to be described, but elemental or other accidents care little for the consequences they so often entail on the culpable or blameless alike. This property was therefore to be no exception to the inevitable, and accordingly afirebroke out there early on the morning of the 21st November, 1850; and the first notification of the event was the booming of the bell of the Cathedral Church of St. James. The military and police, thefire-brigadeand its engine, and the sailors from the shipping 'along the wharf, brought valuable assistance. There was great difficulty in keeping order, and no less in protecting the property from pillage. There were then twofire-enginesin town, both of which were plied with good effect, and were specially serviceable in saving several valuable stores. In a house some dozen yards from the foundry, it was known that a large quantity of gunpowder (some said twelve tons) was stored. This was, therefore, the object of special attention from the aquarians ; it was kept in a continuous state of drench, and so passed through the ordeal unexploded. Luckily there was within the grounds, a well copiously supplied with water, and this was a very welcome and needed auxiliary to the Yarra pumps. During the proceedings a 2olb. cask of gunpowder blew up, without injuring anyone. Several thousand persons congregated on the open area about Batman's Hill, including more half-dressed women than ever appeared together in the open air in Melbourne before or since. The foundry was a good deal injured, as also a couple of the premises in proximity. The Messrs. Langlands were insured for .£400 in the local company, and lost about as much more ; Captain Cole was injured to the extent of some ,£500, and Mr. Graves, a sailmaker, ^250, neither being insured. The origin of thefirecould not be ascertained.
The Last Old Fire.
Though last, not the least, in this fire summary, was one that occurred at 2 a.m. on the 21st April, 1851, at the south side of Bourke Street, and not many yards from its junction with Elizabeth Street. There was a smart-looking one-storied hotel named The Saracen's Head, doing a good business there, and next to it was the grocery shop of a Mr. Ferris. This place was infested with rats, and some of these marauding vagabonds in a nocturnal foray were supposed to have capsized a case of matches, and the friction causing ignition, the shop was soon in flames, communicating rapidly with a wine store adjoining kept by a Mr. Matthews. Thefire-brigade,police and military were quickly in attendance. There were twofire-engines,one belonging to the Victoria Insurance Company, and the other to the Cornwall, but the latter was too tardy in arriving to be of any use. Thefirstengine worked with much effect, but as in other similar mishaps, so in this, all efforts were mainly directed to prevent the spread of the devastation, for if it caught hold of the corner of Elizabeth Street, it was feared that the valuable range of buildings thence to Little Collins Street would go down before it. As usual, several of the citizens were conspicuous for services rendered, and foremost among them were the Mayor (Mr. W m . Nicholson), Messrs. E. Wilson (of the Argus), George Hull, J. O'Shanassy, Rody Heffernan, and James Barry. The two foremen of thefire-brigade(Dalton and O'Reilly) were most indefatigable, and the lastnamed was seriously injured in an arm. T w o houses were destroyed, and two more gutted in order to check the burning, whilst seven families were sent adrift on the streets—viz, Ferris, Mathews, Russell, Davenport, Fidler, Gorman, and Duffin, the last-named being partially insured. There was a great scarcity of water m the Yarra, the consequence of a protracted drought; the Water Company's tanks were empty, and the water-carters and Yarra pumps did not pull well together. Fortunately the night was almost windless, and in the midst of the struggling against the conflagration, an unexpected fall of rain came on, which was
better than a legion offire-brigades,at least such as were equipped like thefirstcorps of that name Great Floods. No. 1, in 1839.
The first of those extensive floods, which through the capriciousness of the rainfall, and the snow melting on the mountain ranges, are very uncertain in their visitations, occurred in Melbourne at the close of 1839. T h e white inhabitants of the settlement had seen nothing of the kind before, and to them it occasioned m u c h astonishment. Since 1835, the Aborigines had often foretold the coming of such events, but they were heard with incredulity; their vaticinations shared the proverbial fate awaiting prophets in their o w n country, and were set down as a black ruse, concocted for the alarm of a race of intruders, regarded with no friendly eye by the natives. T h e whites were, however, n o w taught by ocular demonstration to pay more respect to the warnings of their sable contemporaries. During thefirstthree weeks of December the weather was scorching, and hot-windy, when a sudden change set in, and for three days and nights there was a continuous downpour of rain. T h e waters then took more time to travel to Melbourne than now, in consequence of the thickly-timbered state of the low lands, the profusely matted scrubs abounding along the sides of the Upper Yarra, and the manner in which the river, and watercourses discharging into it, were choked by such deposits as the snags, dead timber, and debris of ages. For these reasons, no doubt, the Yarra did not attain any alarming height till the 23rd, and it was not until the 24th (Christmas Eve) that the flood was at its full, when it overflowed the river banks, and inundated all the low-lying locality of the then small-scattered township to a depth of several feet. A punt that plied across the river, a little eastward of the present Princes Bridge, was soon disabled, and all transit from North to South was suspended unless by boat, a precarious m o d e of conveyance. This was of less consequence, as the southern side of the river was then only inhabited by a small colony of brickmakers, all of w h o m were beggared by the ruin which so unexpectedly overwhelmed them. Between the wharf and Emerald Hill stretched out the brickfield, where was stacked a considerable quantity of bricks, the labour of months, and from this place pile after pile was swept away, accompanied by the miserable shanties in which the people lived, leaving them homeless and penniless at the same time. T w o or three of the most substantially-built residences remained, and were six feet under water, almost up to the roofs. T h e residents had all fled for their lives. At the Melbourne side, the wharf was impassable on foot, and the only locomotion was by means of a couple of cock-boats placed on the streets for the occasion. T h e water tumbled along Elizabeth Street in an immense volume; Collingwood, Richmond, and round away down to the Beach resembled an immense circular lake. Emerald Hill, then known as the Green Hill, with its sheep browsing on the summit, seemed to look on with resignation at the innovation m a d e by the liquid element; whilst in the far West, Batman's Hill with its picturesque tree-crowned cone, was as an oasis in the swirling watery desert by which it was completely encircled. At this time the streets abutting round the Western Market with Collins and Little Flinders Streets constituted the principal places of business, and being high ground little merchandise was injured ; settlement along the Yarra banks had hardly commenced, and no perishable property being exposed to the inundation, losses similar to those sustained by subsequent floods were unknown. T h eflatfrom Elizabeth Street to Swanston Street was almost completely under water, and some of the dashing young squatters, in town for a Christmas spree, amused themselves rowing about in boats. Several fatal accidents occurred. A stockman named Jordan was riding into town and attempting to ford the Merri Creek, at a crossing-place near Northcote Bridge, had his horse swept off by the current. His body was found in a battered condition on Collingwood Flat after the waters went down. T h e horse was observed on Boxing D a y grazing in the n o w Yarra Bend Reserve, minus the bridle, and with the saddle under its belly. T h e same day William Brennan a brickmaker, was drowned whilst trying to swim the Yarra. H e had come into town, "nobblerized" too much, and would insist on returning home. H e rushed into the river, and after a few strokes and struggles went down, but not to that h o m e where a wife and four young children were anxiously expecting him. His body was recovered three days after, embedded in some brushwood on the Southern side. There were two almost miraculous escapes, corresponding in some particulars, and they both occurred on Christmas morning. Another brickmaker, named Crawford, who had also indulged in too m u c h stimulant, took it into his head to cool himself with a plunge into the Yarra, and stripping off at the end of Swanston Street, in he went. H e soon lost all self-control, and shouted lustily for help, but none could succour, and he was propelled with m u c h rapidity towards the "Falls," over which, if he went, nothing could hardly save him. A s he approached where he would have to m a k e his final somersault, he got entangled in some of the ti-tree then growing from the bank streamwards, and here he held on until a couple of Aboriginals w h o were standing by, were prevailed upon by some European, and a douceur of two or three figs of tobacco, to rescue him, which was done without risk or difficulty. T h e second escape was very singular. A bushman named Glenworth used to m a k e a living in a generally useful way on the Yarra, near Toorak. O n Christmas morning the gunyah in which he hutted was carried away, and he was in it. It was broken up before it reached the river current, into which he was shot head foremost. H e was a good swimmer, sober, and resolved tofighthard for life, but the impetuosity of the waters showed the inability of his attempting to m a k e either bank. H e therefore applied all his strength and skill to keep on the surface in mid-stream, hopeful that something in the way of a chance of escape might turn up, and the chapter of accidents did not disappoint him, for, in a minute or so, he sawfloatingd o w n the river what subsequently turned out to be a " cock," i.e., a small stack of kangaroo grass, cut and saved for provender. It was securely roped and sailed along trimly in the middle ofthe stream. A s it glided alongside, GlenwOrth grasped one of the fastenings, and, after being towed for a quarter of a mile, with the superhuman strength that comes to a drowning m a n , he managed to drag himself aboard, and, mounted on his hay raft, voyaged without any further mishap to Melbourne until he was nearing the " Falls," where he had little hope of going over them with unbroken bones. His craft was still taut and kept well together; and as he dashed along there were persons on the northern bank, willing enough to help, but able to do nothing more than shout a few words of encouragement, though they believed he was hastening to his doom. H e knew well where the "Falls" were, and as he approached them Glenworth firmed himself in his seat, shut his eyes, and clung to a rope like the grim Death he in all probability fancied was about to clutch him. T h e little hay-rick took to the " Falls" kindly, and got over without m u c h disarrangement, but in the hitch forward it was compelled to make, its temporary skipper was shot off his perch, falling, luckily, beyond the stones, and in deep water. After sinking, he rose to the surface, and, stunned by the shock he had received, would inevitably have perished but for two brothers (Henry and William Kellett), w h o jumped into the dingy of the lighter " L u c y " then warped close by, struck out for the drowning m a n and saved him. It was several days before the flood subsided. Before this occurrence it was the intention of the Government to extend the township over the river, but this deterred them from doing so, for the whole of the proposed extension lay for more than a week buried feet deep in water. N o land at South Yarra proper was sold by auction for several years after. Strange is it to record that just one week before, Melbourne bore witness to the power of another destroying element—a gunpowder explosion blowing up a house with its inmates in Market Street—a contrast one would be disposed to regard as an illustration of the marvellous physical forces against which, at times, in this world the power of m a n is unavailing.
Flood No. 2 — in 1842.
There was a great fall of rain on the 25th and 26th July, and on the 27th the Yarra swelled into a large flood. T h e river rose to a height previously u n k n o w n ; the South side was completely under water, and a new road in course of formation from Melbourne to Sandridge was non est. T h e brickmaker clearance of 1839 was repealed, but this time with more inconvenience and loss of property for there were more people settled there. Several gardens planted along the Yarra bank were totally ruined, and the flood breaking over the break-water, or "Falls," is described by a gushing newspaper scribe of the period to be " an humble imitation of the Falls of Niagara." It was modesty of him to put in the adjective T h e wharf and low streets were, in places, several feet deep in the inundation, and the scattered township resembled a group of small islands^ T h e pound, which was near the bank of the river, about half-way between Swanston and Russell Streets, was so suddenly overwhelmed that there was m u c h difficulty in saving about forty head of cattle there; and after procuring the enlargement of his prisoners, the keeper found dry quarters for them at the yards of the Caledonian Hotel, a bush-frequented hostelry on the south side of Lonsdale Street, and some twenty yards from Swanston Street. T h e first overland journey m a d e in a boat from the Saltwater River to Melbourne was on this occasion, when Mr. Michael Cashmore, one of Melbourne's earliest drapers, with some companions, was weather-bound at a small hotel then near Footscray. They were cut off from town by water, and could not attempt the homeward journey by swimming or wading. Horseback, even if they could procure horses, was equally out of the question. So they took an open boat, and ventured over what was then " a lone dismal swamp," and taking their bearings round about Batman's Hill, after several escapes from snagging and capsizing, reached the Queen's Wharf unshipwrecked, pulled straight for the Royal Highlander, a well-known hotel, and did not deem themselves safe ashore until their craft was securely roped to one of the legs of the tavern bar. Then, no doubt, the inward m a n speedily m a d e up for the outward discomforts of the long and dangerous voyage, and the mariners drank to the good luck which permitted them to escape with no other unpleasant consequences than a rubber of stiff muscular exercise and a sound drenching.
Flood No. 3 — in 1842.
The 26th October witnessed another extensive flood, and the Yarra rose 50 feet at Heidelberg, doing m u c h injury to the gardens and land otherwise under cultivation along the line of river to Melbourne. T h e Melbourne Custom-house and wharf were cut off from dry land, and there was an almost total cessation of business there, and in the low-lying streets. T h e trans-river brickmakers had to run for their lives from their beds, losing all their household valuables, and several large kilns of bricks, which were carried away by the flood. A dozen families located on the borders of the Western S w a m p were also rendered houseless; there was quite an encampment of " miserables" on Batman's Hill, and their condition excited m u c h commiseration. T h e crops for miles around Melbourne suffered severely, and were in some places utterly destroyed, especially at the Moonee Ponds, the Merri and Darebin Creeks; and, more disheartening still, where cereals had been ruined by the Julyflood,and the ground re-sown, the farmers' hopes were again blighted. With reference to this flood, M r . Frank Liardet wrote from Rosedale (Gippsland), in February, 1881, to a Melbourne newspaper:—"There was a still greater flood if m y m e m o r y serves me, in November, 1842, when the Sandridge lagoon overflowed, and a deep channel was formed from it to Hobson's Bay, a few chains east of the Victoria Sugar Company's works, since built there. I was contractor for the ship mails at the time. A heavy southerly gale blowing at the time backed the flood. T h e sea ran so heavy in the Bay that I could not venture to go alongside a ship that arrived, but had to get the mails slung over the poop. T h e above vessel was the "Royal George," T h o m a s Greaves, commander. In consequence of the gale being directly opposed to the current from the lagoon, the surf was too heavy to risk running. I beached m y fine old whaleboat, safely landed the mails, carried the boat about 300 yards, and landed the mails in safety in William Street, between the present Yarra Yarra Hotel and the Sydney Hotel. M y crew having been some hours exposed to wet and cold, I gave them some stimulants. This was supplied from the balcony, as w e stood up in the boat alongside. M y recollection is that there must have been four feet of water on the top of the Queen's Wharf." T h e writer, drawing, as he admits upon his memory, evidently mistakes the month, for there is no record of a flood in November of that year.
Flood No. 4 — in 1844.
The greatest flood ever known in Melbourne occurred on the 1st October. For two or three days it had rained heavily, though intermittently, but during the entire night of the 30th September it fell literally in torrents, the wind blowing stiffly from the north-east. Business was practically at a stand-still, and the general dullness was only relieved by the amusement created by witnessing the efforts of wayfarers to m a k e their way through the rain, water and m u d abounding everywhere. It rained continuously during the day, and towards evening the Yarra was very high. A general clearance of the brick-fields was effected, and on the northern side much havoc was m a d e amongst the boiling-down establishments and slaughter-houses westward of the city. In some of the houses over the river, the inhabitants during the early part of the day, were in a state of terrible uncertainty, the Yarra rising gradually, and the w o m e n and children dreading to m o v e out of doors. They were ultimately removed safely. There was a considerable destruction of property, and m u c h damage was done to goods piled on the wharf, and in several of the stores in Flinders and Little Flinders Streets. Allison and Knight's mills and Langland's foundry were forced to stop work, and several of the small houses were actually " u p to their necks in water." Boats worked for hire along the river's bank, and through portions of William, Queen, Elizabeth and Swanston Streets. T h e Western S w a m p was then a large swine-fattening ground, and some hundreds of porkers were sent swimming about, the greater number of which were carried out to sea, where the sharks, no doubt immensely enjoyed themselves on fresh pig. In several parts of the interior the settlers were severe sufferers, and the gardens and farms along the creeks and rivers near Melbourne, were denuded of cultivation. At the junction of the Yarra and Merri Creek, near Dight's mills (Studley Park) the river was up to thirty-six feet. In the mill there was a considerable quantity of grain stored, which was saved after m u c h toil and difficulty. Mr. Liardet, the mail contractor, brought an important ship-mail from Sandridge to Melbourne, by the joint means of a cart and a boat, for which important service both public and newspapers loudly sounded his praise. Narrow escapes and half drownings in the streets were of c o m m o n occurrence during the flood, and the following incident is mentioned because of its extraordinary sequel. Elizabeth Street was always the most dangerous locality, for there the water was at its highest, especially at the Post-office corner. A Mr. Wentworth was on some pressing business, and seeming to think rather slightingly of the roaring torrent, boldly stepped in ; but he had not waded m a n y yards when, his feet sliding from under him, he was swept away, and with m u c h difficulty rescued from drowning, near the intersection of Little Collins Street. O n being pulled ashore he was coatless, his struggling for existence, and the violence of the water having stripped him of his upper garment, which was whisked away, and never recovered. In its pockets were a large sum of money, an unsigned bond, and some memoranda, which shared its utimely fate.
Flood No. 5 — in 1848.
October 13th and 14th were inclement wet days, the "pelting of the pitiless storm" having been almost incessant during forty-eight hours. T h e low lands about the city disappeared under water, the Yarra rose as rapidly, and thefloodon the afternoon of the 14th was nearly as high as in 1844. T h e swamps and lagoons united, and Melbourne exhibited the appearance of a sea-girt settlement. South of the river the low brushwood towards Sandridge and away by Fisherman's Bend was covered, and the water was up amongst the branches of the trees. T h e Melbourne wharf was impassable, except a narrow strip of causeway, portion of a street improvement, running from the southern part of Queen Street in the direction of Coles' dock. T h e Royal Highlander, an hotel in Flinders Street, kept by a M r . Shanks, was completely islanded, and he put on two or three ferry-boats for the convenience of his customers, w h o were conveyed to and fro free of charge. T h e brickmakers as a matter of course, were again heavy sufferers. Early on the morning of the 14th one of them was awakened by the motion of his bed, and to his consternation discovered that it wasfloatingabout like a raft, in several feet of water. H e aroused his wife and two children, and it was little short of a miracle that they escaped with their lives. There were some tanners and curriers settled on the river bank near the present gasworks, and they had some hairbreadth escapes, little caring, so long as they saved their own skins, what became of a large quantity of other hides they were forced to abandon in their hasty flight. Batman's Hill was again an island, and as the rearing of pigs and poultry had grown into a local industry around the Western S w a m p , heavy losses were sustained by a class of people least able to bear them. At Heidelberg the water was within two feet four inches of the height of 1844, and damage was done there, at the Merri Creek and at Richmond. At Studley Park the force of the current tore up the piles supporting a punt established there by Mr. Tohn Hodgson, rendering it for the time unserviceable. During the 15th a considerable quantity of sawn timber (belonging to woodcutters) and limbs of trees were borne down the river to the great risk of the Yarra wooden bridge, which luckily escaped, and some 300 or 400 tons of the drift-wood were forced over the breakwater into the basin of the river. Here it was rushed by a number of wood-fishers w h o resorted to various expedients to get the flotsam ashore. Amongst the other waifs wafted along the Yarra, was a cradle, but it was soon found to be untenanted. T h e Mount Macedon road was then the most important highway in the district but a portion of a bridge over the Deep Creek at Keilor was carried away, and no bullock drays or heavy carts could pass until the damage was partially repaired. T h e residents of Richmond were in a state of complete isolation for two days, as they had no means of crossing over the formidable body of water sweeping the Collingwood and Richmond Flats, as well as the Fitzroy Gardens and the Richmond Paddock to the Yarra. In thirty-six hours the Yarra at Melbourne attained the height offifteenfeet. T h e flood of 1844 was higher than the present one, for then the water was sixteen inches higher in the second floor of Dight's mills at Studley Park. T h efloodof 1848 went down m u c h sooner than that of 1844.
Flood No. 6 — in 1849.
On the night of the 26th November, a tremendous hurricane swept over the City of Melbourne, smashing and eradicating trees at Batman's Hill, Flemington, Collingwood, Richmond, South Yarra, and other places, demolishing and dismantling houses, and shaking every place and everything to their foundation. A two-storied brick house, belonging to John Bennell, a bricklayer, was blown down in Spring Street, two houses in Lonsdale Street, and one near the Flagstaff. T h e wooden tenement of Doolin, a shoemaker in Little Collins Street, was carried off no one knew whither, and chimney stacks were levelled by the score. It rained with great fury, and on the 27th there was an immense flood in the Yarra, and again the bnckmakers were summarily ejected from their holdings, and they and their hardly-acquired property, unceremoniously dissolved partnership, one m a n losing 100,000 bricks. Towards evening the river was almost as high as it was ever known to have been, and between the wind of the night before, and the inundation of the day, great loss was inflicted on the shopkeepers in parts of Elizabeth, Swanston, and Flinders Streets, as well as to the mercantile establishments formed along Flinders Street West. Murphy's Brewery was completely swamped, and a large quantity of sugar rendered useless. At the slaughter-houses on the bank of the river so m u c h meat was rendered food forfishes,that there was serious apprehension of a meat famine, and, as it was, rump steaks and loin chops were at a premium. The Western S w a m p was quite a new " Curiosity Shop," in consequence of the variety of dead and living lumber of which it became the receptacle—furniture, wood, bacon, pork, and poultry, etc. 2500 sheep at Philpot's boiling-down establishment perished. It was a grand field-day for the glaziers, for never before nor since was there such a shattering of glass, and the bad wind blew a good harvest to the putty fraternity, there being then no such thing as plate-glass in general use. Fencing was knocked down everywhere and the suburbs were strewn with posts, rails and palings. O n the 27th the river rose thirty-seven feet above its ordinary level at Dight's Mills, having ascended to the third storey, and Burchett's Tannery near the n o w Richmond Railway Bridge, a two-storied brick building, eighty feet long, was hurried down the stream and with it a considerable quantity of leather and other property. At Melbourne the river was two and a-half and at Richmond four feet higher than in previous floods, and there were several very narrow escapes. At the south side a m a n had to be released from a house, and another individual, whilst endeavouring to preserve his chattels, was obliged to scramble upon the roof, until a boat put off and rescued him. A boat with half-a-dozen m e n capsized in the Yarra basin, but they were saved. O n the 28th a horse saddled and bridledfloatedover the breakwater, which led to the supposition that a m a n had been drowned somewhere up the river. T h e same evening, the body of a w o m a n with a child clasped to her breast, was carried down the Yarra, past the end of Spencer Street, and neither was ever recovered. They were supposed to be a Mrs. Tegg and her infant (lately come from Adelaide), w h o had that morning left the Victoria Hotel in Little Bourke Street. O n the Melbourne wharf and the swamp a gang of wreckers turned out, considering it a good opportunity for turning a dishonest penny, but "a party of police was told off for "coast-guard" duty, and disappointed the would-be-plunderers. T w o policemen were detected in the act of appropriating some firewood to which they had no claim, and were " d r u m m e d out " of the service. T h e losses sustained by the Melbourne merchants were put down at several thousand pounds. Even on the 29th the flood was so high that Mr. Furze, of the firm of Stook and Furze, butchers, was drowned in attempting to ford the Merri Creek. H e had been only five months married, was a general favourite, and m u c h regretted. His body was found next day, and his funeral was a very large one. T h e communication was kept up between Melbourne and Sandridge by means of boats put on through the enterprise of Mr. Liardet, an hotelkeeper, and mail contractor there. In the Bay the weather was terrible. O n the 29th the inundation had to a great extent subsided, and people were able to turn their attention to business. Lynch's punt at the Salt Water River had sunk, and the Racecourse was four feet under water. A dead body recovered from the Yarra was interred without an inquest. T h e coroner resided at Brighton, and could not get to town, but was m u c h censured. T w o m e n named Bruce and Chips perished in the Deep Creek near Keilor. A large boiling-down vat was swept away from Watson and Wright's melting establishment, below Batman's Hill, and a wooden house, freighted with three pigs, sailed away from South Yarra, and disappeared. There was great loss of sheep, over 50,000 on the rivers E x e and Werribee, Deep Creek, and other places, and amongst the settlers w h o suffered heavily were Messrs. Aitken, Vuille Staughton, Riddell, Hamilton, and Learmonth. Several gardens laid out at m u c h expense on the Yarra and the Merri Creek, were completely wiped out ofthe landscape by their submergence, and the accumulation of all sorts of recrement deposited on them. This flood was believed to have been the result of snow melting in the ranges, more than rainfall. It was in its'consequences the most destructive that had occurred, and the Rev. A. M . Ramsay improved the opportunity by preaching two very eloquent and pathetic sermons in the Protestant Hall, entitled " T h e Force of the Storm; or a Memorial of the Late Flood." They were published in pamphlet shape, and had a good circulation.
The Great Old Flood (1844).
A respected old colonist has favoured me with the following communication, which is well worthy of perusal :— M R . G A R R Y O W E N , — D e a r Sir,—I have just read the 91st number of the World,* and can well remember the great flood, when the rain came pelting down on the last day of September, and thefirstday of October, 1844, and I will draw your attention to a circumstance that took place during the occurrence. Seven of the leading mechanics at Langland's and Fulton's foundry had built a paddle-boat for their o w n amusement, called the " Democrat." It was both built and owned by James Dow, John Dutch, William Fulton, James Patterson, George Stewart, T h o m a s Elder, and E d m u n d Ashley (all gone to their long home but the two last-named). T h e builders also made and put in machinery to bring the speed up, by multiplying cog-wheels, and it was so arranged that the crew of seven could all use the vessel for their o w n pleasure, which was often indulged in, up the Yarra to Dight's Mills, and down the Yarra up the Saltwater River to Solomon's Ford, and round the Bay by Williamstown. At that time the steamers " Yesta," " Aphrasia " and others were running, and considered fast boats. T h e " Democrat," with its crew, used to race these larger boats, and could and did always catch them, and then get towed up the river to anchorage at the Melbourne Wharf. During thisfloodthese amateur tars launched their " Democrat" at the foundry yard, and proceeded up Flinders Street, crossed the river over the Falls to go to Sandridge overland, round by Williamstown, and up the Yarra to Melbourne again; but when skirting Emerald Hill the boat struck a stump and sprung a leak, though of small dimensions. They then turned back to town, staunched the boat, and then proceeded round Batman's Hill, up the s w a m p to the racecourse, d o w n the Saltwater River, and up the Yarra to Melbourne again. W h e n thefloodwent down, the vicinity of the river banks was strewn with drowned pigs, dogs, fowls, cows calves, etc, and many residents on the low-lying ground were almost ruined. The writer was an eye-witness to the above, and you can make use of this m e m o , as you please. Yours truly, E. A. P.S.—This is thefloodthat made the deep gulley from Sandridge Lagoon to the Bay.
Melbourne's Only Snow-storm.
Snow in our city may be regarded as a phenomenon, for during the memory of the white m a n it has only put in an appearance on two occasions. Forty years ago, when there was little or no opportunity for general travelling in the interior, a person might grow old and grey in Melbourne without seeing a snowflake, but since the settlement of the colony and the facilities offered by modern locomotion, the snow-capped pinnacles of Mount Macedon, and the Gippsland and other mountain ranges have become, if not tamihar, at least not unknown, objects to the people of to-day. T h efirstsnow known to have fallen in Melbourne was on the 14th July, 1840, when the quantity was small and its effects harmless and evanescent. T h e winter of 1845 was intensely cold, with heavy frosts and thick ice, and on the morning of the 27th June there was a br.sk, though brief, snow-fall at Heidelberg. T h e winter of 1849 was also raw, cold, and frosty, with hail, ice, and sleet; and on the morning of the 31st August the good people ofthe • T h efirstchapters of the "Chronicles" were published in the IK,,,// „ J , , . Evening/lerald.-Ku. puDUsneu in the H o, Id newspaper, and, on the demise of that journal, were continued in the town were astounded when they looked upon the immense white drapery which shrouded everything out of doors. I well remember peeping through the curtains of m y bedroom window in Spring Street, shortly after day-break. I rubbed m y eyes, rushed out of doors, and then, to m y surprise, renewed acquaintance with an old friend with w h o m I had parted company on the other side of the globe years before. T h e snow was general, and in places more than a foot thick. About 9 a.m. a thaw set in, and the melting snow overwhelmed the half-made streets and unkerbed channel-ways. T h e low-lying streets were, in places, feet under water. Elizabeth Street was like a canal that overflowed its banks, and traffic was suspended. Punts there were not; small boats could not live in the gurgling roaring water-course ; and here and there rickety corporation bridges, at the street intersections, were washed by thefirstflood-burstinto the Yarra. B y degrees the waters subsided, and as there were no omnibusses and but few cabs to be found, bakers' and butchers' carts were called into requisition, and draymen turned their vehicles into horse-worked ferries and m a d e a good thing of it. Several accidents, some of them fatal, occurred. A w o m a n tumbled into a pool of water at the (now Colonial Bank) corner of Little Collins Street, and two men, at some risk to themselves, pulled her out half-drowned. A child slipped into a gully in Lonsdale Street, and its mother nearly perished in saving it. A horse and rider were carried away in Flinders Street, the m a n escaping, but the animal being so injured that it had to be shot. Near the Post-office corner there were half-a-dozen hairbreadth escapes, and in Swanston Street the following incident happened :—There was an old tube-crossing or wooden conduit, the remains of some civic experiment, at the corner of Bourke Street, half-filled with water. Into this a little boy was propelled head-foremost and stuck. H e would have been given up for lost but for the subterranean howling that issued from the pipe, and, as he was alive, the question arose as to h o w he was to be extricated. H e had travelled so far under the road that a man's arm could not reach him, and there were no practical grappling-irons convenient. In this emergency M r . Robert Cadden, then a well-known clerk of the District Police Court, rose to the occasion. Another boy of the same size as he w h o had disappeared, encouraged by promises of ample remuneration, consented to be shoved in after the other, which was done, with due instructions that when he should come to the boy's legs he was to clutch and hold them to the death if necessary. This not very pleasant operation was successfully effected, and on a signal from the search party, Cadden, aided by a bystander, drew him out by the heels, and by this contrivance thefirstunfortunate was literally towed ex articulo mortis, and on re-entering the world shook himself like a half-drowned rat, amidst the acclamations of the crowd which witnessed the plucky deliverance. A subscription was improvised, and the two boys departed with a freightage of small silver and copper coins, little expected by them as a result of the snow-storm. Cadden, w h o was a thorough good fellow, was amply compensated by a slice of the mens conscia recti, in such a case inevitable. M u c h suburban damage was done; a large number of pigs on Richmond and Collingwood flats were drowned, and planks of timber, shingle, and paling in considerable quantity carried from the wharf and adjacent wood yards into the river. A great flood was expected in the Yarra, and towards evening the rain came, and continued its downpour until next morning. At midnight it was tremendous, and there was never a colder, sloppier, or more miserable night in Melbourne. T h e molten snow ran gurgling along from the ranges, and, reinforced by the rain, the rivers and creeks boiled over and submerged the low-lying land for miles. T h e floods kept rising until the afternoon of the following day, when Melbourne looked like a town built on a small island, for it was almost environed by water. At Heidelberg, Darebin, Merri Creek and along the Yarra banks from Studley Park to the Saltwater River, and for miles up the Deep Creek there was a large destruction of property, and though not equal to the flood of the preceding year, this one was more disastrous in its results. O n the evening ofthe 1st September, the Merri Creek was as high as ever before seen. During the 2nd and 3rd the water fell some six feet, and to avert sacrifice of h u m a n life, beacons were lighted at night as danger signals at several points of its course. T h e accounts from the country reported the snow and floods as almost general, especially heavy in the Geelong district where the Barwon assumed a form that frightened the settlers located near it. Country bridges were demolished country mails stopped, and a postman was drowned whilst rashly endeavouring to cross a creek at M o u n t E m u . Another person almost lost his life in the Deep Creek, about twenty miles from town ; and the escape of half-a-dozen drunken people at the Merri Creek was little short of miraculous. Such is the history of the only snow-storm visitation witnessed in Melbourne since the White foundation of Port Phillip.