29 October 1936

EARLY ERA OF LIBEL SUITS

Hectic Days Of South Australian Newspapers

The early history of South Australia was marked by a series of quarrels between leading public men, one of the chief being the difference of opinion be tween the first Governor (Captain Hindmarsh) and the Surveyor-General (Colonel Light) regarding the site of Adelaide.

The views of leading men differed on many important questions, and these differences were particularly marked between the proprietors of the "Register" and two Resident Commissioners, Messrs. James Hurtle Fisher and George Milner Stephen. The outcome were remarkably interesting libel cases, marked by an innate bitterness on both sides.

The trouble started in 1838 when the "Register" stated that the Resident Commissioner, Mr. J. H. Fisher, was 'up to his tricks' again concerning the ballot for the allocation of land in South Australia. It maintained that a meeting of landholders was illegal, because no official advertisement had appeared in the "Register"— or "Gazette" as it was then more generally known— notifying colonists that the meeting would be held. Another complaint was that it was not proposed to allow land-orders to include any Murray land, and would cover only what were then swamps between the village of Adelaide and the sea.

'Will landowners suffer themselves to be choused in this way by this man?' asked the "Register". Tempers rose, and the outcome was a trial for libel of George Stevenson, editor of the "Register", which lasted four days. The "Register" must have reported the trial very fully, for six full pages are occupied by it. After deliberation, the jury brought in a verdict of guilty. Stevenson was wrath.

'Our readers will see from the trial which we publish at great length,' he wrote, 'that Mr. Hurtle Fisher has gone into court in defence, and that he has sneaked out of it without having dared to answer a single question put to him touching his activities as Resident Commissioner. We will say nothing at present of the strange proceedings of the trial and of other equally serious matters affecting the capabilities of the jury, composed of such persons, to understand what was said to them, or understand it to arrive at an impartial verdict. The simple fact that of the sapient 12, two of their number at least could neither read nor write, is sufficient to stamp their verdict as worthless. Had the jury been called upon to judge the flavor of a cask of gin or the worth of a team, matters might have been within their grasp.'

Hardly had interest in this case died down than Brown, the immigration officer, and Fisher objected again to statements in the "Register". The cause of the trouble was death of an immigrant George Trollope. Trollope left no estate and there appeared to be no one responsible for burying him. It appears that Brown was not prepared to provide money for a burial, and when he referred the matter to Fisher, the latter would take no action either. Eventually the storekeeper buried the pauper immigrant. [Buried Holy Trinity 10-Sep-1837, aged 48]

The "Register" described the incident as 'not merely a gross neglect of duty, but cold-hearted inhumanity' on the part of the Emigration Agent. 'What a story it is for home,' it continues, 'that the individual selected for the especial duty of watching over the welfare and interests of poor emigrants (the rich and independent emigrants have no need of his services), should, on an occasion where the last sad offices of humanity were all that were required to be rendered to one of the persons under his charge, not see that they were performed.'

Brown sued Robert Thomas, the proprietor of the "Register", and George Stevenson, the editor, for £1,000. He got the verdict, but with damages at only 40/. Fisher followed this action - with one on his own account. The jury took only a few minutes to decide in favor of Brown. With Fisher's case they took an hour and a half, but the plaintiff got only 40/, too. This was not all, however.

'Is it true that out of a cargo of draught bullocks sent by the Commissioners from the Cape of Good Hope, for the accommodation of the colonists generally, Mr. Fisher, Colonial Commissioner, allowed his two sons, who have established a carrying business between the Port and Adelaide, to take out of the lot the ten best bullocks?' asked a correspondent through the columns of the "Register". He also asked whether the Colonial Treasurer (Mr. Gilles) had taken the next four best, and mentioned George Stevenson as having had the choice of two of the remainder.

'The refuse,' the correspondent added, 'were sold by auction to the colonists at large prices.' The "Register" took the matter up. 'We have this week to record some very malignant specimens of folly and imbecility on the part of individuals who have been entrusted by the Commissioners in England with the management of their affairs in this province.' The court found that the "Register" had no intention to impute fraud to Mr. Fisher, but was guilty of printing and publishing improper language. Mr. Fisher received 1/ damages.

George Milner Stephen succeeded Fisher as Resident Commissioner, and he, too, struck trouble with the newspapers, this time with the "Register's" rival, the "South Australian." The matter dealt with was the so called Milner Estate, which belonged to Stephen at Port Gawler. It was reported that half of this estate had been sold for £10,000— an exorbitant sum in those days.

'Information has reached us that the pretended sale was a hoax and a puff, and, unwilling to suppose that an individual holding such an office in the colony could wilfully deceive the public; and that so barefacedly, we cook measures to ascertain the truth. We are exceedingly sorry to say, upon authority, that no such sale or pretended sale has been effected, and that the whole story was, therefore, a gross and abominable hoax upon the public.'

The paper added that, following the reported sale, other people had taken up land. There were groans and hisses when the jury brought in a verdict of guilty. A fine of £50 was imposed, and bonds up to £600 had to be entered into. The action took a sensational twist when Stephen was suspended from his office, and indicted for wilful and corrupt perjury. The judge instructed the jury to bring in a verdict of not guilty on the evidence submitted. It had, however, made up its own mind, and refused to obey the judge, and was dismissed.— H.

Shepherd's Narrow Escape

In the early days of the West Coast shepherds lived singly or in pairs in small huts. Theirs was a lonely and at times dangerous life, if the blacks were unfriendly. Many of the shepherds were on quite good terms with the natives, but even these occasionally struck trouble.

This happened one day to a shepherd who had been cooking damper. He placed the damper on the table and went on with several odd jobs about the hut. After a time he heard a slight sound. Turning quickly, he saw a native by the window. In his hand was a long spear which he had inserted in the damper, and he was just in the act of drawing back both spear and damper when the shepherd saw him.

The shepherd gave a fierce yell, and at the same time threw a mug at the native, who disappeared with a snarl. Fearing trouble, the shepherd jumped to the door, which was open, and quickly closed it. As he did so a spear struck the door, and the point just showed through the wood on a level with his chest. For a moment he stood rooted where he was. Then he flung open the door and rushed out after the native, who was in full retreat for the nearby scrub. But the shepherd was fleet of foot, and soon flung himself upon the native. Together they fell in a struggling heap. It was not the shepherd's custom to quarrel with natives, but- he felt that he could not let such an act pass with out punishment.

For some minutes he belabored the blackfellow with his fists, receiving some punishment him self. Then he got up. The native also scrambled to his feet, and after a brief, but very pointed rebuke from the shepherd made off. From that time on the latter had his dampers in peace, so far as that particular native was concerned. — C.Y.A.

Bogged On Their Wedding Night

Few brides and bridegrooms have spent their wedding night in such un enviable circumstances as those experienced by one newly married couple well-known in Adelaide social circles for many years. The bride lived in a northern township, and the bridegroom— a prominent city business man— had gone north for the ceremony, which was celebrated at the local Methodist Church.

After the service there was a reception which lasted until a late hour. The weather was not kind, and the rain fell in torrents, so that when the happy couple left on a twenty-five mile drive to Booleroo Centre in a hooded waggonette, with a local lad as coachman, the stage was set for discomfort, if nothing worse. The road was a sea of mud, through which the horses floundered. The night was inky black and when a particularly bad patch had to be negotiated a few miles south of Willowie, the dim buggy lights failed to reveal the true nature of the road. In endeavoring to avoid as much of the water as possible the driver chose the wrong side of the road, where crab holes abounded, and the wheels sank to the axles. The horses, already weary and not too stanch, were unable to move the vehicle.

This was about 2 o'clock in the morning. The driver was hopelessly lost and inextricably bogged. There was no alternative, and the miserable trio were compelled to spend the remaining hours of the long winter night in the ancient vehicle. Had they but known, there was a comfortable farm house less than half a mile away, where they would have been cared for with that hospitality so characteristic of northern folk. It was a most depressing first night of a honeymoon. Can anyone beat it?— 'Ekwah.'

Breaking Up An Election Meeting

Perhaps it Is just as well that most of the excitement and horse-play associated with the old-time election meetings are things of the past, but the fact remains that the way in which some of the opposing faction used to break up the opposition meetings was nothing short of a work of art. The outstanding case was where one man, single handed and without making any fuss or noise, turned an election meeting into a hopeless farce.

It happened during the days of gas lighting. The man had been promised the help of many sympathisers, who had planned to interrupt the speeches with cat-calls and interjections, but a special squad of police appeared and the plan was abandoned by all including the leader. He went into the cloak room to get his hat and coat prior to going home.

While there his eye fell on the gas jet in an adjoining room and he had a brain wave. After locking the door of the room he put a chair under the gas jet, turned it out, waited until the burner was cool, then turned the tap on again and began to blow into the pipe with all the power of his lungs, forcing the gas back into the mains.

The speaker in the hall was just getting into his stride when the lights began to go dim. The sergeant in charge of the police, and the caretaker of the hall ran to the gas meter, thinking that the main tap had been turned off , but found all in order. The lights faded rapidly and vanished. The man in the cloakroom blew until he was exhausted, then paused for breath: the gas came back into the pipes and the stench of escaping gas began to fill the hall. Some men started to strike matches; others shouted warnings about causing an explosion, and people started to leave the hall. Order was restored and the lights were re-lit, but a minute later the flames dimmed and died out again.

In vain did the police search for the cause; in vain did the speaker try to make his speech. Every time the lights were re-lit they went out again, and finally the meeting broke up in disorder. Then the cause of all the trouble un locked the door and went home, satisfied that he had accomplished a great work for his party single-handed.— H.A.L.

A Shower Of Frogs

Once in the Far North, I was caught in a very heavy storm, but managed to get some shelter under a rock. The storm was of short duration, but after it had passed, the ground was a mass of small frogs that must have come down with the rain. The curious feature about this deluge of frogs was that immediately the rain ceased every one of them started hopping in the same direction. Though it had rained heavily for a few minutes, there was enough surface water any where to get a decent drink, and I had not the slightest idea in which direction the nearest water lay; but I decided to follow those frogs, and in a very short while I came to a small creek with good water. It was good to watch those frogs hopping into the creek as though they had not seen water for years. If one wants to find water, it is a good plan to get hold of a frog, if one can be found, and put it on the ground. It will at once make for the nearest water if the area is at all dry. —J.R.

Real Life Stories Of South Australia (1936, October 29). Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 - 1954), p. 46. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article92346317