31 August 1933

ROBE'S STORIED PAST

John Chinaman And The Victorian Gold Diggings

Most people think of Robe only as a quiet place where heat-waves are unknown. But it holds more romance than any other spot in South Australia. It is one of the oldest of our towns and has seen many changes.

When the Scots first settled about Robe it was a main port, where bullock waggons piled high with wool often extended for more than a mile in a line along the road, awaiting their turn to unload, and where the hotels did a roaring trade. Later it was one of the main coaching stops on the way to Victoria.

It saw the mad rush of men to the goldfields in the 'fifties' of last century. At its jetty was unloaded cargo after cargo of Chinese coolies. To check the influx of coolie immigrants the Victorian Government put a tax of £10 on every Chinese landed in the State. South Australia had no such tax, and so hundreds and hundreds of coolies were unloaded at Robe, to be taken in charge by drovers just as if they had been sheep or cattle, and shepherded overland to the gold-fields.

I talked with many men when I was a boy about this droving of human beings. I met some who had either seen these coolies on the march to the diggings or who had actually helped escort them over. The coolies were dumped on the beach with their bundles and left. Then men from the town would come down, haggle with them about the price to be paid for guidance across country to the fields, and when a bargain had been struck, they would set off at the head of a string of coolies. Some of these guides would only take them a short distance on the way, point out the general direction of the diggings, and then ride off again, leaving the unfortunate Chinese to make the rest of the way as best they could.

Others, with a better sense of fairplay and honor, took their almond-eyed flock as near to the diggings as they dared, and let them sneak in to the fields under cover of night, where their own countrymen would show them the ropes and initiate them into the business of hunting for gold.

The amount of gold these Chinese scratchers took out of Australia must have amounted to millions of pounds. If ever men deserved the little gold they won it was these coolies. They went through incredible hardships to reach Australia. When they did arrive at the fields they were chased and hunted by the white diggers. If they did secure any gold they had to guard it with their lives, for the diggers held that they had no right to be there, and it was considered no crime to knock one on the head and rob him of his hoard.

I once met a woman who had seen these strings of coolies making their way to the fields when she was a girl. Her father had a small sheep station dose to the overland track, and up to this station the long string of coolies would trot, each with all his worldly possessions hung on the ends of a long bamboo pole which he carried on his shoulder. They would drop their bundles, squat in a long line, and their boss coolie would come up to the house and bargain for a sheep. When a bargain was struck he would pay over the money and the sheep would be dragged away, killed, and the meat equally divided amongst the Chinese. Then they would shoulder their poles again and jog off out of sight, pigtails and bundles swinging, and big yellow hats bobbing as they trotted. They did not skin any sheep they killed, but patiently plucked it bare of wool, as if picking the feathers off a fowl.

Robe is connected with the story of one of the most brutal crimes In the history of this State. It was from there an unfortunate girl went to work at the Salt Creek Inn, where some months later she was murdered by the proprietor, a black-bearded human wolf named Malacky Martin, who robbed her of her savings, which she carried in her clothes. He hid her body in a wombat burrow. The crime shocked the State, for it served to explain why so many travellers had vanished along the Coorong track. Malacky Martin was duly hanged for it.

Alone the coast to the north of Robe the ill-fated brig Maria went ashore during a sou'-westerly gale in June, 1840, and the passengers and crew set off to walk back to Adelaide instead of making south. This cost them their lives. They walked into the tribal territory of the Milmenrura tribe, whose ferocity made them feared and hated by the neighboring natives and the early white settlers. Before the little band of castaways had gone very far the Milmenruras attacked them, spearing and clubbing twenty-six men, women, and children to death.

When news of this appalling tragedy reached Adelaide Governor Gawler sent a punitive party of twenty troopers, under Major O'Halloran, accompanied by Captain Tolmer, Messrs. Bonney and Pullen, and Captain Nixon, together with three natives of the Encounter Bay tribe, to discover the murderers and inflict summary justice. After many hardships the two ringleaders of the massacre were captured, tried on the spot, and hanged on a gallows in sight of the rest of the tribe. — 'Bogaduck,' Bordertown.

STORY OF THE MEADOWS BIBLE

In the very interesting, article on Meadows in 'The Chronicle' of August 17 [No 58 Meadows], your special representative mentioned the Bible and Prayer Book in St. George's Church of England, which, he said, had a history connected with a shipwreck, but he was unable to ascertain the details. I wrote to Archdeacon Bussell on the subject, knowing he used to preach there. Here is the story:—

The Bible was presented to St. George's by Mrs. Davies Thomas, of Blackwood, at Christmas, 1906. This Book, and a large Prayer Book, were sent out from England in the S.S. Orizaba. The vessel foundered off the coast of Western Australia in February, 1905, and was eventually abandoned by the owners. For several weeks the books lay at the bottom of the sea. Then one, Charles Moore of Adelaide, secured the right to salvage what he could from the ship. He found the tin case containing the books, and brought it to the surface. He had the binding repaired, and sent the books to their original destination, the Meadows parish. These, facts are set out on the fly-leaf of the Bible, which is now a treasured relic.— 'E.A.J.,' Adelaide.

The Sad Tale Of Betsy

Some twenty years ago, while living in Denial Bay, a big buxom lubra, Betsy by name, did many a job for me. She had spent most of her girlhood on stations, and was a splendid worker, exceptionally clean in her person.

One fault she had was that every now and then she would go off her head a bit, and then for a time would be no good for work. As she seemed harmless no restraint was put upon her, although she had a bad habit of creeping around all sorts of places and would come on people unawares and give them a scare.

One day, after she had recovered from one of these attacks, she and a number of other natives left for a 'walkabout' to the Musgrave Ranges. Some months later one of the natives in camp at Denial Bay told me Betsy was back. I said, 'Tellum Betsy I want to see her.' 'Oh, Betsy no can walk; him bad; soon go dead fella.' 'All right, you tellum Betsy I come to see 'em tonight.'

After tea I took a basin of soup and went to the camp, but only noticed a young lubra and a skinny, wizened skeleton of a native near the fire. 'Where Betsy?' I asked. 'I Betsy,' squeaked the poor skeleton. In my astonishment I nearly dropped the basin. On looking closer I recognised Betsy. But what a change. The once buxom lubra was a mere skeleton of skin and bone. She had been suffering for months with a bad eye, and the other natives had at last carried her to Denial Bay to the doctor, but it was too late. She died next day. So passed Betsy, a well known figure on the coast. — 'Eldeebee.' West Coast.

Whaling Days Episode

In the early days, exciting events were almost daily occurrences at Encounter Bay. Whaling was proving a profitable industry, and a large number of men were engaged in the hazardous work.

Several parties were operating, among the most successful being Hagen's, Wheland's, and Haynes's. Whales were plentiful, and it was not unusual for four or five to be taken in one week.

One stormy afternoon in the winter of 1843 a huge whale was seen in Encounter Bay, and several boats were immediately put off to make an attempt to capture the monster. The boats approached close to the whale, but before it could be harpooned it dived. Owing to the roughness of the sea, it was impossible to locate the whale, therefore there was nothing to do but wait for it to rise.

However, it did not take long to reveal its whereabouts, for suddenly it rose directly beneath one of the boats. With a blow from its tail, the leviathan threw the boat clear out of the water and stove the side in. Some of the men were hurled straight into the sea, but several fell on the back of the whale and found themselves being carried along as it headed out to sea.

The whale spurted up a column of water, and altogether it must have presented a remarkable scene. After a short swim the whale dived again and left its passengers struggling in the sea. Fortunately, all of the men were rescued, and no one was seriously injured. Amidst the general confusion the whale made its escape.— 'A.H.B.,' Adelaide.

King Of The Northern Teamsters

When the Broken Hill mines were discovered, there were dozens of teams carting on the track from Terowie to the Hill. Teamster H- was coming from the Hill with a load of ore. When he got to Paratoo, there had been a thunderstorm, and a watercourse had been flooded. So he got hopelessly stuck down to the axle.

He knew that a contractor was sinking a dam five miles away. So he unharnessed his horses and proceeded to the contractor's camp to request his help in pulling the waggon out of the bog. While he was away Teamster C- came along, bound for the Hill. C- was the King of Northern Teamsters, and he had a magnificent team to pull. It was an inspiring sight to see his horses hauling. So he harnessed his team to the bogged waggon, and pulled it out of the bog, took it a few chains away, and left it on hard rising ground. He then continued his journey.

When H- returned with the contractor, there was his waggon on hard rising ground. The contractor said, 'You were never stuck.' 'You bet I was,' replied H-, and showed him the place where he had been bogged. H- never discovered who pulled his waggon out of the bog for over 20 years, when he found out by accident.

There are dozens of people in the Peterborough district who will recognise who C- was. He is not alive now. He was a wizard. No track was too rough, nor load too heavy for his team. He had the credit of taking 14 tons with ten horses from Terowie to the Hill.— 'Bushwacker,' Cunyarie.

Real Life Stories Of South Australia (1933, August 31). Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 - 1954), p. 14. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article90890197