23 February 1933

WHEN SOUTH AUSTRALIA WAS 'BROKE' TINLINE AND THE BULLION ACT

One of the greatest crises in the history of South Australia occurred in 1852, when the colony was barely sixteen years old. The discovery of gold in Victoria drained this province of its male population and its money. South Australia was literally 'broke,' and was saved from disaster by the Tinline Bullion Act, which Parliament passed in a single day.

One of the names which will always command the interest and respect of South Australians is that of George Tinline, one time manager of the Bank of South Australia, whose Bullion Act of 1852 saved the province from absolute bankruptcy. The circumstances are peculiar and well worth recalling. In the early fifties South Australia, in common with every other part of the continent, caught the gold fever, which broke out on the discovery of the Victorian diggings. In a few weeks the colony was denuded of its males. Shops were closed, newspapers ceased publication, the police force and public services were disorganised, and industry brought almost to a complete standstill — all because men got the gold bug in their veins, and set out pell mell, in every sort of vehicle for the land of promise.

One early writer, describing the exodus says: — "The discovery of gold has turned our little world upside down. Thousands have left the settlement for the diggings. In Adelaide windows are bricked up, and outside is written, 'Gone to the diggings.' Vessels are crowded with passengers to Melbourne, and the road to the port is like a fair— ministers, shopkeepers, policemen, masons, carpenters, clerks, councillors, laborers, fanners, doctors, lawyers, boys, and even some women, have gone, either by land or sea, to try their fortune! That would not have been so bad if these enthusiastic voyageurs had not taken every penny of coin they could lay their hands on with them. The colony was left short of men and short of cash. Ready money was going out in an alarming stream. None was coming in. In the circumstances trading became impossible.

Within a very short time the situation became critical. South Australia was faced with bankruptcy. Even when gold dust began to come back things failed to improve. Gold dust was scarcely a convenient means of circulation. It was at this juncture that George Tinline brought forward the Bullion Bill. It authorised the Government to mint their own coin. The amazing part of the business was that only the Imperial authorities had authority to mint. For this reason Governor Young was opposed to the measure, but the commercial community were for it. His Excellency did some rapid thinking. He decided to risk recall and disgrace by assenting to the measure. It was rushed through Parliament in a single day. The Governor was formally censured for his 'audacity' by the Imperial authorities, but beyond that no action was taken. It was generally recognised that he had done the right thing. Tinline's Bill saved South Australia, which illegally minted its own coin from the gold dust of South Australian diggers which Tolmer's famous escort brought back from the fields of Ballarat. — 'Historicus,' Adelaide.

Lesson For The 'Boss.'

— Years ago when my grandfather was a young shearer at one of the sheds in South Australia a thunderstorm was responsible for a remarkable incident. This particular afternoon the men were shearing quickly to 'cut out' a flock of sheep, when heavy clouds were seen rolling up from the horizon. Soon rolls of thunder were heard, and it seemed likely that a severe storm would result.' Some of the shearers suggested discontinuing operations, holding it was risky to shear during a thunderstorm. But the boss, anxious to have the job finished, arranged to stay outside, watch the approach of the storm, and warn the men if it came too near. Suddenly a flash of lightning hissed up the shearing board. Instantaneously every man dropped his blade on the floor, and let his sheep go, at the same time severely reprimanding the 'boss' because of his carelessness. This action roused the quick temper of the 'boss.' Grasping a pair of gleaming shears, he ran out into the yard crying, 'I'll show you —— there is no —— danger,' and he waved the blades above his head. At the same moment the shears were whipped from his hands by a titanic force and sent hurtling towards a post nearby, where they stuck quivering. A deathly pallor crept over the man's face, as without a word he staggered inside the shed. He had been taught a severe lesson, which might easily have cost him his life. — 'Rin Tin Tin,' Murray Bridge.

The Lawyer's Joke.

— A well-known lawyer, who died recently, was noted for his love of a joke. He was established in a country town at the time.

Some farmers were carting a load of hay through the town, and, owing to a fault in the loading, it began to slip. They stopped their team opposite the lawyer's office and held a consultation as to whether it was advisable to proceed. One thought it would stay on until they reached their destination, and the other was sure it would fall before they had gone far.

While they were in the midst of their discussion the lawyer came out of his door and crossed over to them. "Let's ask Mr. —— what he thinks about it," said one. So they asked the lawyer.

He walked round the load, examined it from various angles, and then said— "Well, gentlemen, in my opinion, it would be unsafe to proceed. Your best plan is to throw it off and reload."

They did so, and went on their way. By the next mail they received an account from the lawyer, 'Advice re slipping load of hay, 1 guinea.'

Needless to say, they accepted it in the spirit in which it was sent, and the money was never paid. — 'R.V.H.,' Yeelanna.

Cask as a Prison.

— In 1837 Mr. W. Giles became Special Magistrate for Kangaroo Island. At times he presided over several queer cases. One well-known identity had a flair for stealing hams and bacon, and in general was a nuisance to the community. At last he was caught committing a crime of a more serious nature, and was taken before the magistrate.

The day was warm, and Hodge, the policeman in charge of the accused, fell into a deep sleep during the proceedings, from which he was awakened by the prisoner, who said, "Wake up, old fellow. Don't you hear what they are saying? You are to take me to prison."

From there he escaped that night by the aid of a piece of hoop iron. When he was re-captured he was confined in a 300 gallon butt, seven feet high and three and a half feet in width, the chain attached to the prisoner being drawn through the bung hole and padlocked on the outside. However, the prisoner, an ex-convict from Tasmania, was equal to the occasion, and freeing himself that same night, he plundered a nearby store and escaped aboard one of the whaling boats.

Not long after this a foul murder was committed near the island. Two men were fishing in their whale boat, when they quarrelled, and the younger, a strong and active man, probably incited by drink (there was part of a bottle of rum in the boat), beat his mate to death with a boat hook. Later, overcome with remorse, he gave himself up to justice. He was tried in Adelaide at the next criminal sessions, but owing to a flaw in the indictment was acquitted.— Wynnis J. Hughes, Wisanger.

Jeff's Cave.

— Practically the whole of the South-East is honeycombed with, caves, and there is an intricate system of underground drainage. One of the largest caves can be seen due west of the Mount Schank Bellum Hotel, on the road leading to Kongorong.

From the roadway the water in the cave appears to be black in color, and is usually covered with a green scum. The water is 10 to 15 feet below the surface of the ground, and the walls of the cave are unbroken, except for an opening on the southern side.

This cave is popularly known as 'Little Blue,' because of its close resemblance in miniature to the famous Blue Lake at Mount Gambier. But the correct name for the cave is Jeff's Cave, and this is how it received the name:—

This cave, before closer settlement, was on the property of the Mount Schank sheep and cattle station, and the manager, so that the stock could obtain water, employed a workman named Jeff to make an opening on the southern side. Jeff used a horse and dray to remove the stone and rubbish from the opening. He backed his dray to a ledge of rock over the cave and tipped the debris into the water.

One day, when backing, the horse suddenly took fright, with the result that dray and horse both disappeared into the water beneath. Jeff thought that he had seen the last of his horse and dray, but the horse struck out gamely and continued swimming until the contractor arrived with assistance. The horse and dray were recovered, and the cave is still known by old people as 'Jeff's Cave.'

On a property south-east of Jeff's Cave there is another large cave which was used in the early days as a sheep wash by the Mount Schank station. Like Jeff's Cave, the opening leads downward to a ledge of rock over which the water appears bottomless. It was in a cave similar to these that a stockman had an experience when droving cattle. He had brought the cattle a number of miles from swampy country, where they had been accustomed to wading through the swamps. On reaching this cave they rushed eagerly towards the water but, to their surprise, they could not obtain a foothold. After much bellowing, they succeeded in swimming to safety. —'Interested,' Allandale East.

No Washing On Sunday.

— Years ago that popular and well-known man, Peter Waite, was managing a station known as No. 4, several miles out of Yunta. Working on the station at the time was a cook called Lizzie.

One Sunday afternoon Waite was surprised to see smoke issuing from the wash house chimney. He went to investigate and found Lizzie at work at the washtubs, soaping and soaking in the clothes for the morning's wash.

He caught her by the wrist, pulled her out of the washhouse, locked the door, and put the key in his pocket.

"You're a day ahead of yourself this week, aren't you?" he remarked.

"I've got no time on Monday if I don't start it today," Lizzie defended herself.

"Well, in future," answered Waite, with a Scotsman's veneration for the Sabbath, "soak in on Mondays and wash on Tuesdays."

The joke about Lizzie and the boss went the rounds of the station.

Not long after there were visitors at the station. Waite had a blackboy, and Christy Wade had one also. Both boys were on the station at the time of the Sunday washing joke. One Saturday afternoon Waite was putting the boys through their tricks with horses as an entertainment for his visitors. It was in the days when four o'clock was 'knock-off' time on the stations.

On No. 4 the men's kitchen was apart from Government House, and every Saturday afternoon, the knock-off bell was rung. As soon as the boys heard the bell this day they dropped tools and rang.

"Where are you going?" asked Waite. "Knock-off time, boss. Bell rung," was the reply.

"'I didn't tell you you could go. You come back," he said.

"No, boss, want to washem shirt, boss," continued the blacks.

"I'll give you the sack if you don't com'e back," threatened the boss.

"Can't sack me," one said. "I'm Christy Wade's black boy," while the other replied, "If you make me come back I'll washem shirt on Sunday." The blacks won the day. — 'Farmer's Girl,' Mount Bryan.

Real Life Stories Of South Australia (1933, February 23). Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 - 1954), p. 16. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article90894406