13 August 1936

WHEN POLITICIANS LIVED DANGEROUSLY

Premier Horse-Whipped In King William Street

Politics proved a hectic business in the nineties of last century, and it was by no means an uncommon thing for legislators to abuse one another in Parliament. Mr. Charles Cameron Kingston, to whom a statue has been erected in Victoria square, was involved in no less than three affairs.

He challenged Sir Richard Baker to a duel, and two attacks were made on him in the streets. In one of the latter cases, however, he grabbed the whip his assailant was using, and proceeded to belabor him. Contemporary opinion was that Mr. Kingston had the better of that encounter.

Dissension arose between Mr. Kingston and Sir Richard (then Mr.) Baker, when the latter attempted to make a collection among members of the House to raise funds to build a trades hall. In the Legislative Council, Mr. Baker said he had been attacked by a gentleman who was as well known as a big coward as he was as a big bully, who was a member of and a disgrace to the legal profession. Was it to be wondered at that when he had been attacked as he had been that he should try to defend himself and state the facts? Not to be outdone in such abuse, Mr. Kingston, on the following night, said: 'I should not deem to descend to the level to which some have descended in their revilings in connection with political matters, but I will say that as regards the aspersions cast upon me in this matter (the special wheat rates), I know their author. I know him well. It is Mr. Baker. He has proved himself to be false as a friend, dangerous as a colleague, mendacious as a man, and truly untrustworthy in every relationship of public life; and now he has added to the accumulated disgrace of a lifetime the crowning ignominy of an unjust judge.'

Mr. Kingston followed up his invective by sending an English bulldog revolver to Mr. Baker, and challenging him to a duel in Victoria square. When excitement was at its height, it was reported that the revolver Mr. Baker had sent would not cock, but Mr. W. B. Rounsevell, M.P., averred that it would. He said it would not cock by pulling on the trigger, and he believed that the cartridges supplied were too large for the chambers. In any case, the revolver worked stiffly. It could, however, be cocked by raising the hammer in the same way that a gun hammer was used. Whether Mr. Kingston should have explained this to Mr. Baker when he sent the revolver to him gave residents of Adelaide plenty of scope for discussion.

Mr. Baker, however, preferred to leave the duelling to Mr. Kingston, and went to the police headquarters, a few yards from the appointed place for the duel, and reported the matter. He said that he would not sign an information against Mr. Kingston, however.

'If I did,' he said, 'Kingston would probably think I am afraid of him. I am not afraid of him, or of being shot by him. But I am afraid of breaking the law, and of either being hanged for murder or being sent to gaol for the rest of my life.' He added that in the circumstances he left the matter entirely in the hands of the Government, in the full belief that the Government would vindicate the law.

Mr. Kingston was summoned to the Police Court on a charge of having on December 23, in Adelaide, 'unlawfully, wickedly, wilfully and maliciously com posed, wrote, signed and caused to be delivered to Richard Chaffey Baker a certain letter' to incite him to fight a duel, 'against the peace of our Lady the Queen, her Crown and dignity.' Mr. J. H. Symon, Q.C., asked that Mr. Kingston should be bound over to keep the peace, and stated that the charge was admitted. The Magistrate— What do you wish for the prosecution, Mr. Crown Solicitor? The Crown Solicitor — On behalf of the Crown I will be satisfied to withdraw the information, upon sufficient security being entered into for the purpose indicated by my friend. Mr. Baker— I thought it would be a farce. Mr. Kingston was released on two bonds of £250 and his own recognisance of £500.

The 'Australasian,' in an article, refused to take Mr. Kingston's, duel seriously, and pointed out that it was to have been held almost under the nose of the Law. 'Politics are becoming too respectable in Adelaide,' it complained. 'In the good old times when one member called another a coward or a liar, it was customary to go outside or threaten to do so, thus giving the Speaker an opportunity to prohibit hostilities. Adelaide is picking up tedious French formalities.'

'They want to go out in the public square and miss each other with fire arms,' the article continued, 'so that their names may be cabled to the uttermost ends of the earth. Some day a telegraph messenger sleeping in the public parks or some other placid non combatant will get hit if this fad gains ground.

'Mr. Kingston with an eye to the safety of both parties does not ask Chaffey Baker to go to the lovely olives at Bankside or the fine sands at Largs Bay, where they might carry on the engagement to something like a definite decision, viz.:— The exhaustion of all available ammunition. No! Mr. Kingston, after considering the advantages of being near the office of the Superintendent of Police, takes the Town Hall square as a good quiet spot. A man who can endure the ridicule of having challenged his enemy to an impossible duel shows daring of a kind that is rarer than the courage which faces physical danger,' it concluded.

The next incident in which Mr. Kingston was involved aroused almost as much public interest as the first. This was an attempt by Mr. H. Y. Sparks, manager in Adelaide for the South Australian company, to horse-whip him. The spot was at the corner of King William and Grote streets, a few yards from where Mr. Kingston's statue now stands. It was three years after the frustrated duel with Mr. Baker, and Mr. Kingston was then premier. In addressing a meeting at Port Pirie he had attacked the larger landholders vehemently, and as the South Australian Company had large landed interests, its manager regarded the attack almost as a personal insult.

Mr. Kingston was walking from Grote street, carrying an umbrella, when Mr. Sparks, wearing a peaked cap and carrying a short riding whip, approached him. After a short conversation, Sparks struck the Premier with the whip he was carrying. Mr. Kingston defended himself with the umbrella, and went for his assailant, wrested away the whip and beat him with it. Eye-witnesses were practically unanimous that Kingston eventually had the better of the encounter. The atmosphere became 'sulphurous,' but Mr. Kingston walked off to his office, carrying the riding whip, which he had retained after the sheriff and onlookers had parted the combatants. Mr. Kingston's ear had been cut and his left thumb was sprained, but he described the attack as one of the most interesting episodes in his life. 'Who now can say that I have not shed my blood for South Australia?' he asked an interviewer. 'What a pity, my capitalist friends will say, that there was not more of it.'

'When he lashed Mr. Kingston with the whip-thong,' said the 'Register' in a keenly partisan leading article, 'Mr. Sparks only retaliated. Mr. Kingston had previously lashed him, and that in the absence of real provocation, with his tongue, and on the whole, the latter weapon is the more damaging. The mistake that Mr. Sparks made was in taking Mr. Kingston seriously. He forgot that the Premier's tongue is wont to run away with him, and that he appears to be unable to talk unless he is denouncing or traducing some body, or indulging in wrath or simulated passion, just as an engine is in capable of moving until its boiler has got up steam.' The article added that Mr. Sparks was a private citizen, and was not accustomed to being grossly insulted in Pickwickian phrases.

Two years after that, in 1897, another attempt was made to beat the Premier with a stick. This time the assailant was a man, William Jewell, who had two wooden legs. While Mr. Kingston was talking to a friend, before going to his offices in Eagle Chambers, Pirie street, this man approached and hit him on the head. Mr. Kingston turned round and wrenched away the stick The man, very excited, was held by passers-by. Blood was spurting from one of Mr. Kingston's ears.

It was stated in the Police Court proceedings which followed that Jewell conducted a saddler's shop in Leigh street, and that there had been dissension between him and Messrs. Kingston and McLachlan, solicitors, concerning a six-year-old account. Sparks maintained that it had been agreed that payment should not be made, but the solicitors claimed that payment was only deferred.

When reference was made to Jewell's loss of both his legs as an infirmity, he became most indignant, and the magistrate threatened to imprison him for seven days for contempt of court unless he kept quiet. The magistrate said he would fine Jewell £5, including costs, in default six weeks in gaol. 'Well, I will do the six weeks,' said Jewell. 'After that remark you will not have the alternative. You will go to gaol for six weeks,' replied the magistrate. 'All right; I can work hard, and if I don't earn my tucker I won't eat it,' were Jewell's last words.— C.V.H.

A Rabbiting Expedition

A year or so before the war I was fishing on the River Murray, and a few miles down the river was another fisherman, George Brown. One day I was rowing down the river, when I came to George's hut. I pulled up, and was shown the usual bushman's hospitality, being invited to have some billy tea and damper.

In the course of conversation, George told me that he had been to the city, and had bought a horse and buggy. We agreed that we would sell our camps and fishing grounds, and make for Broken Hill in the horse and trap, rabbiting on the way.

In the course of our travels, we came across several dams, and, as we had a gun each, and were after rabbit skins, we thought that a few kangaroo skins would not be amiss in our collection. We would lie down behind the bank of the dam, about sundown, and wait for the kangaroos to come along for a drink. We arranged to both fire together, and then lie quiet again for the next lot to come. The following morning we would search all around to find the kangaroos we had shot.

Finally, we reached Mutooroo station, where we saw the manager, Mr. Smith. We told him what we were after. He was very sympathetic towards us. In fact, he was looking for someone to clean up the rabbits on the property. He fitted us out with gear, and sent us out about 20 miles to a dam, where the rabbits were thick. We had to get stakes and net the dam in. We had iron troughs, about three feet long, four inches wide, and three inches deep. We put them outside the netting, and filled them with water containing cyanide. The rabbits, being unable to get at the water in the dam, drank the water in the troughs, and were poisoned. When we had accounted for most of the rabbits around that dam, we visited others on the property, and treated them similarly. All told, we accounted for about 40,000 rabbits.

One afternoon, while we were on the outback station, George and I went out to get some quondongs, and George fell out of the quondong tree and broke both his legs. I took him about seven miles in the trap to a shepherd's hut, and rang the home station on the telephone. A truck was sent out, and George was taken to Broken Hill, where he was about six months in hospital. I did not feel like staying on by myself, and soon afterwards I came down to Adelaide and enlisted for the war. — M.W. A

Costly Intervention

Whilst on the way to inspect a mob of cattle I stayed a few days with a drover friend, who was travelling In from the Territory with a mob of 'stores,' but at the time of my visit was in quarantine owing to red water having broken out in his cattle. Only a few of the cattle were effected and the constable in charge of the small township, who was acting stock inspector, had told the drover that permission would be granted him to travel in a few days, provided a fresh outbreak did not take place.

The drover, in the meantime, had wired the owner advising him of the position, and asking for instructions. To the drover's surprise, the owner appeared in person the day before I decided to move on. There was not the slightest doubt about some of the cattle being affected with redwater, but the owner, after taking a ride through the mob, evidently decided otherwise. He could not get in to interview the police constable quickly enough.

'What stock experience have you had,' demanded the owner of the constable, 'to hold my cattle up?' 'Just enough,' answered the constable calmly, 'to hold your cattle here until I am satisfied that they are free of redwater.' Irritated by the remarks of the owner, the constable carried out his word, and mildly affected cattle that might have been allowed to travel were kept in quarantine another month before the drover was given a clear bill and allowed to travel. The owner's intervention was a costly one, for had he not interfered a couple of hundred pounds in wages might have been saved him.— 'Drover.'

Real Life Stories of South Australia (1936, August 13). Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 - 1954), p. 16. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article92462961