William Irving - Memoir · PDF fileThe Survey Ship Llewellyn, ... ‘To William Irving...

William IrvingThe Journals of a Pioneering Mariner

This edition first published for the Mary O’Connor in 2011 byMemoirs Foundation Inc. (Australia)

2 Burwood Highway, Burwood East Victoria 315103 9888 9588

www.memoirsfoundation.org.au

Copyright © 2011 Mary O’Connor

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the copyright owner.

The author may be contacted through the Memoirs Foundation.

National Library of Australia Cataloguing in Publication Data

ISBN No 978-0-9870600-6-8

Typeset in 13pt Adobe Garamond Pro by Synergy Publishing

Publishing Editor: Arnold BonnetEditor: Ernie Rigby

Design and Layout: Mark BonettProduction: Cristina Alford

Printed in Australia

The opinions expressed by the author are not necessarily those of the publisher or editor.

Back cover photograph ‘SS Champion at Newcastle Harbour’, by Ralph Snowball, courtesy of the Norm Barney Photographic Collection, University of Newcastle, NSW

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Contents

Foreword v

Scotland 1843 - 1854 1

Journey to Australia 1854 9

Arriving and Settling in Melbourne October 1854 15

Apprenticeship as a 12 Year Old 1855 21

Father buys a Horse and Dray 1855 23

Continuing Apprenticeship and Employment 27

My First Trips to the Theatre and Opera 33

Working on Ships in Port 37

Melbourne Race Course 39

Mutiny Amongst the Convicts 41

My Father’s Second Bout of Gold Fever 45

My Career Takes Shape 47

The Presbyterian Church in Melbourne 51

The 1850s end, the 1860s Begin 53

Learning to Dance 57

Australian Shipping in 1850s –1860s 61

Theatre, Cricket and Entertainment in Melbourne 1860s 71

I Meet my Future Wife 75

Marine Engineer 77

Love and Marriage and Our First Son 81

Sailing Australia and New Zealand 87

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Back on Shore, Daughter Elizabeth, a Son William 95

Return to Sea, William Dies, George is Born 99

Sailing Eastern Australia aboard SS Blackbird 101

Move to Sydney, my Father Dies, my Stepmother Returns to Scotland 117

The Survey Ship Llewellyn, Charting Queensland Coast 125

Trouble with Shipowners 141

Return to Sea 1884 153

Ashore, my own Firm and A.I.M.E Dispute with Ship Owners 1893 165

The New Century 1900 175

My Retirement Lasts Just One Year 177

Retirement aged 70 in 1913 - Travelling for Pleasure 181

The Great War 1914-18 189

After the War: Life Goes On 199

Appendix 217

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The Journals of a Pioneering Mariner

Foreword

When I was given a handwritten manuscript by Mary O’Connor I was taken aback somewhat.

She explained that it was the journal of her great grandfather and it had mainly sat in a drawer since 1946. She had taken it out and read it. She told me it was a very good story.

That was an understatement and as I began to read this man’s story I was drawn back 160 years in time. I began to see his life unfold before my eyes; from his birth in Edinburgh, his young days growing up after the death of his mother and his travel to Australia aboard the fastest sailing ship of the time.

He describes Williamstown docks in great detail together with old Melbourne town.

As an apprentice learning his trade as a Marine Engineer he had some interesting stories to tell about his co-workers and the demon grog. His job would have him sailing all around Australia and New Zealand and his descriptions of the people he met are couched in the language of the time.

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Learning to dance, meeting his future wife and surveying the remote North Queensland coast are just a few of the things he did as a young man. As a mature man he was a foundation member of the Marine Engineers Federation and he worked to make the system more equitable for all.

Come with William as he shares his story.

Like me, you’ll get to like him, like me you will want to know more.

Ernest Rigby, editor

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Scotland 1843 - 1854

On the 8th day of January 1843, I was born at No. 5 South Melville Place, Edinburgh, in a public house situated in the basement of a block of buildings between Melville

and Aliva Streets. My Father was the publican, or rather, as his sign board denoted, David Irving, Wine and Spirit Merchant. We had shops on each side of us, also in the basements, about a dozen or so steps below the main street, and shops above us and above them again 3 or 4 storeys high dwellings or flats for residences reached by a common stair entering from the street.

Our neighbourhood and surroundings were clean and respectable mostly composed of well-to-do business people, while close by were the aristocracy of the West End, living in stately mansions, in beautifully formed streets, terraces and crescents of recent construction. These constituted the pride of the New Town of Edinburgh by their uniformity and regularity of architecture.

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When I was very young my mother died and her funeral is about the furthest back event to which my memory will carry me. She was buried in the West Kirk Yard or burying ground attached to St. Cuthbert’s Church, Lothian Road, the coffin being carried by four men and placed on a wooden base covered with a black velvet pall, the funeral procession sombrely clad in black following solemnly on foot.

After my mother’s death, I was placed in charge of a housekeeper or servant for some time until my father took unto himself another wife whom I believe was a former sweetheart. It is from this time that my career became more marked and interesting as I was sent to Dumfries-shire to stay with a cousin of my father, Tom Irving, a small farmer with a large family, about a mile out of Lockerbie. It was then I first went to school, and I can remember well the amiable lady who was Head Mistress. I think her name was Miss Maxwell. I can also remember the Free Church minister, Mr. Alexander, who paid frequent visits to the school, which was connected with his church.

I went to school daily with the younger members of the family during my stay at Lockerbie, and as we had over a mile to walk, we were met at dinner-time halfway along the road by one of the elder girls of the Irving family with our dinner, which consisted mainly of mashed or chappit taties and milk and a piece of scone or oat cake which we devoured sitting on the roadside. I recollect living at the farm was very poor porridge and whey for breakfast and potatoes for supper with a little skimmed milk, potato scones and oatmeal bannocks, all home-made, no bakers’ bread, and no meat or eggs. After a few weeks’ stay there I was taken back to Edinburgh and put under the care of my new mother who exercised supreme authority and supervision over me thence forward. I must have been then about six years of age; however, I was in petticoats, when I was sent to Crowe’s School in Queensferry Street, just a couple of hundred yards from my home.

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I was an apt scholar from the start and being well assisted and looked after by my step-mother, who was a clever woman and severely strict, I got on well with my education stepping up gradually from class to class, when at eleven years of age, I was Dux of the School and gained the Gold Medal which I never got as I had left for Australia previous to the award in July 1854.

In the summer of 1849, during the school holidays I was taken to Forfarshire and introduced to my step-mother’s relations who were abundantly scattered about in that Country. I went to live with a maiden sister of my step-mother, Binnie Caird, in the town of Forfar. She was a dressmaker and lived upstairs in a flat in the High Street. She did not go out much as she was lame and also had her business to attend to. She was exceedingly kind to me and took a holiday on my account to show me around to all her relations in that part of the country. We visited most of the town and villages, such as Arbroath, Dundee, Carnoustie, Broughty, Ferry, Kirrie Muir, Friockheim and other places in all of which she had kind friends to welcome the Edinburgh Laddie and herself. It was a very enjoyable tour for me during the summer months as fruit, flowers, milk and cream were abundant and the Howe of Strathmore looked at its best at that time of the year. I proved rather useful to Aunt Binnie as I went all the messages, and latterly I assisted in the dressmaking as she taught me to sew and gave me the pockets of the various dresses to sew up.

After a six week’s holiday, before leaving for Edinburgh, Aunt Binnie presented me with a bible with a silver clasp which was inscribed, ‘To William Irving from His Affectionate Aunt Binnie Caird. Forfar 1849’. This present I prized very much and had it in my possession a great number of years. I also got a crockery dog which I still possess and have it as an ornament in my house.

My attendance at Dr Andrew Thomson’s usually called Crowe’s School, continued steadily and uninterruptedly for five years,

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the only breaks being the summer holidays, which were spent in Forfarshire. My progress at school was good thanks to the efficient teaching staff under R. Burns Crowe and also the assistance and strict supervision of my step-mother who kept me closely to the study of my lessons every night at home. To give an example of her strict discipline and methodical ways – when I came home from school at 3pm, I had first to go any messages that were needed; then I had the remainder of two hours to play till 5 o’clock at which time I had to be in the house to the minute. It was an anxious time for me in the midst of my play to watch Kirkhope the grocer’s clock, in case I should be late a few minutes in getting home.

My evenings were spent at my lessons till eight o’clock, and then I was sent to bed as soon as the clock struck eight. I was up again in the morning at 6 o’clock summer and winter to go over any lessons I hadn’t finished the previous evening and do also certain domestic duties, such as to light the kitchen fire and bring in water from the cellar for the day’s use. As I grew older and bigger I had to clean and polish certain articles in the bar - the gill stoups and whisky taps, etc. which kept me fully occupied till porridge time. Then after a good plate of porridge and milk I proceeded to school with a hot roll and butter in my hand. My school days, on the whole, passed very pleasantly. One of my schoolmates, in particular, Gavin Anderson, whom I corresponded with for many years developed as a Free Church Minister of the Gospel and died a true Christian at the age of fifty or thereabouts. Gavin and I were close chums from the time we wore pinafores till we were breeched and jacketed, and although there was a certain amount of rivalry between us in our scholastic duties, we were steadfast and true to each other and invariably close together in the class.

I can well remember the Rector of our School, the Rev. Robert Burns Crowe, who was a grand nephew of our immortal poet

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Robert Burns. He was a bit of a martinet with his staff, who were without a doubt most efficient, and who ably assisted him in the management of the school, especially Messrs’ Gordon and Dennison. Our day’s work commenced with prayer and a chapter of the scriptures was read before our other lessons were entered upon. The afternoon was devoted to writing and arithmetic. We also had exercises to do at home to get ready for examination at school by the pupil teachers during the week.

We had two music lessons each week conducted by Walter Strang, preceptor of Free St. George’s, Dr. Candlish’s Church. He was more of an inspector or examiner as the rudiments of music and the scales were taught by the ordinary teachers along with our other lessons. The school hours were from 9 a.m. to 12 and from 1 p.m. to 3 - Saturdays 9 a.m. to 12. On Sundays, we had school from 9 to 10 in the mornings and from 6.30 to 7.30 in the evening conducted by the teachers and Rector. We were expected to attend Church service during the day, but it was optional as to which church we attended, and as my parents attended Dr. Guthrie’s Church in the Lawn Market I naturally went with them to forenoon and afternoon service. Taking our lunch with us - a few biscuits and cheese - we very often visited the Grey Friar’s Church Yard and partook of same among the old graves and headstones of that burying ground. The afternoon church service lasted from 2.15 to 4 o’clock, and we arrived home about 4.30 with a good appetite to attack our dinner, which was invariably cold as no cooking was done on Sunday in our home - warming up the broth excepted.

My time was fully occupied between school, Church and domestic duties so that I had little time for play or amusements of any kind. Our holidays during the year were 2 or 3 days at New Year, Queen’s Birthday and generally a Fast day. Christmas or Easter holidays were out of the question and

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not recognised by the Rector of our school. My amusements consisted of one visit to the circus - Batty’s, Cook’s Francois’ or Pablo Fanques during their season, and on New Year’s Day we visited the Zoological Gardens. In the year of the Great Exhibition 1851 my Father wished to take me with him to London, but I preferred to go my usual tour to Forfarshire, so I missed seeing London and the Exhibition, which I didn’t worry over as my Father brought home a number of Curios and presents for Mother and myself.

I remember well the death of the Duke of Wellington and how the church bells in Edinburgh tolled all day. I got a new Glengarry bonnet on that occasion. I was also at the unveiling of the Duke’s equestrian statue in front of the Registrar’s Office in Princes Street some time before his death. The beautiful statue was executed by Robert Steel at his statuary or sculpture works close to my home which I frequently visited. I was a privileged visitor there as the sculptors in Robert Steel’s employ were my Father’s customers. I remember on one occasion being lifted up by one of the men and placed on the Duke’s head.

About the end of 1853, two friends of my Father, Tom Byres and Frank Rogerson, returned from Australia. They had been to the great gold rush - I think at Ballarat - and were very lucky. They came home to Scotland to see their friends and exploit their wealth, with the intention of returning to Australia, which they did. We met them both there afterwards, Frank Rogerson having married Tom Byre’s sister while in Scotland and on his return to Australia had settled down on a farm at Moonee Ponds, now a suburb of Melbourne. I think the visit of these two lucky diggers and the glowing account they gave of the new Eldorado must have unsettled my Father.

Early in 1854, he spoke of going to Australia. His intentions were cordially supported by my step-mother as she hated the

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public house business. Of course his hotel had to be disposed of and a purchaser found. In May the Russian or Crimean War broke out and shortly afterwards negotiations were entered into with a W. Tweedie, who purchased my Father’s business and stock for cash and was duly installed as the successor to my Father. We stayed for a short time at Hislops Hotel of Queensferry Street when our passages were then booked for Australia by the far-famed clipper, Marco Polo, of the Black Ball line, which was to sail from Liverpool about the middle of July.

I will never forget my last Sunday morning in Edinburgh on my way to Dr. Guthrie’s Church going from the Lothian Road around the back of the Castle. I saw a lot of boys on the Castle rocks picking up the old clothes thrown out by the soldiers from the Castle windows. The regiment was the 4th Kings Own. There was also a Highland regiment at the Castle - the 79th or 93rd - and a cavalry regiment at Docks Lodge Barracks, the 7th Hussars. All bound for the Crimea.

I was so interested at the sight and having some time to spare before Church, I walked up to the Castle Hill and had a splendid view of the Firth of Forth on that summer morning and the steam transport the, Golden Fleece, at anchor in Leith Roads waiting for the soldiers to embark for the Crimea.

This was the last look I had of the Firth of Forth and the bonnie hills of Fife across on the northern shore.

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William Irving

� e Marco Polo at Liverpool

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Journey to Australia 1854

We left Edinburgh by train for Liverpool about the 15th July and were met there by my Uncle James, an elder brother of my father, who was attached to

the Customs House. We dined at a hotel and then were taken to lodgings by my uncle, which he had prepared. I didn’t see much of Liverpool. I remember St. George’s Hall was being built and nearly finished. My uncle’s youngest son, Dick Irving, not much older than myself, used to take me out occasionally, but being both young we didn’t travel far. In about a week’s time, after several postponements, the Marco Polo finally left the Mersey for Melbourne on the 22nd July, towed by 2 tug boats. When we got clear of the river out into the Irish Sea, my first experience of sea-sickness commenced owing to the swell and also the abominable smell of some live pigs which we had on board. I had been looking all round the ship, investigating with wonder all the appliances about the decks. Finally I got

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on to the forecastle head and the motion of the vessel was too much for me and I had to lie down. Then I got very sick, but after a good vomit I came round and was afterwards a good sailor for the remainder of the voyage. I blamed the pigs for it and even to this day the smell of pigs reminds me of my first voyage to sea in the Marco Polo.

After the tugs cast off we proceeded on our voyage with a light fair wind and fine weather, which was most enjoyable to all on board. We had 651 passengers and 90 crew - all told 741 souls on board, which was slightly increased by the arrival or finding of two stowaways who were promptly set to work. We had a German band of 12 performers, whom I believe were working their passage, two Highland pipers, several violinists and accordion players, so we had no lack of musical talent which added much to our enjoyment. It was a sight worth seeing - from four to five hundred people marching behind the pipers around the decks on a fine summer evening.

We sighted the Canary Islands with the Peak of Tenerife a few miles off which was the only land we saw until we sighted the Australian Coast. Shortly after passing the Canaries, we sighted a vessel ahead of us one morning which we were gradually overtaking and in the afternoon we were abreast of a full-rigged ship which turned out to be the far-famed ship, Kent. Evidently, she had been in trouble as she had lost her fore-top gallant mast, and we passed her within hailing distance, our German band playing up “The Girl I Left Behind Me”.

Preparations were going on-board to hold a fancy dress ball and the weather being fine the hatches were opened to allow the passengers to get to their luggage and collect material for the making of their various dresses. A whole forenoon was occupied ransacking the luggage and re-stowing it again. After dinner the hatches were all closed when suddenly it became very dark. I had no sooner got there when the ship gave a tremendous lurch over to port, which sent me flying from one side of the

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ship to the other accompanied by a multifarious combination of luggage and utensils too numerous to mention. The ship was nearly on her beam ends, and I couldn’t get back to our cabin on the star side to my parents for some time. I got a great scare seriously thinking the ship was going down. However, she righted in a few minutes, and I ventured on deck with my father, when we found the ship had been struck by a sudden squall, and having all sails set, it heeled her over suddenly and carried away 50 ft. of her main mast the Top Gallant and Royal Masts. This was my first experience of a squall at sea and even afterwards during the voyage if I noticed heavy clouds gathering or darkness coming on, I would enquire of some of the officers or men if we weren’t going to have a squall so as to put them on the alert, by my way of thinking, and get their sails chewed up before it came on.

The fancy dress ball was a great success, a full account of which was published in the Marco Polo chronicle, a paper printed weekly on board during the voyage. We got the mast repaired in a few days thanks to the efficiency of our ship’s carpenter and his mate and also to the willing help of some of the passengers. This was the only accident we had on the voyage. The next grand fete was, ‘Crossing the Line’, which was elaborately prepared and brought off with the usual accompaniment of Neptune and wife being wheeled round the decks on a gun carriage to the saloon where they partook of the Captain’s hospitality, and then the fun commenced – shouting and ducking galore. Such a number of passengers had to be operated on until midnight was reached before the fete was finished. We had very fine weather, in fact, too fine to make much progress till we got further south towards the Cape of Good Hope when we had some weather to try the sailing powers of the Marco Polo.

I remember one Sunday afternoon I was down in the ‘tween decks and looking up at the skylight, I could see the green sea above my head, the vessel heeling over under the press of

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canvas. I believe the Captain was endeavouring to see if the ‘Marco Polo’ could do 18 knots as it was currently said she could. That same evening we lost one of our 1st class passengers overboard - Mr. Tipper - a fine young fellow who was going to join an uncle on a sheep station in Australia.

We had religious services every Sunday. Mr. Hanna, a Baptist minister, officiated for the Protestant sects and Mr. Murphy, a Dublin gentleman, for the Roman Catholics. This service was held in the early morning in the 2nd class cabin. We had several funerals at sea, which were impressive and solemn. We had also a number of births on the voyage, about a half a dozen, which amounted to about the same number as the deaths.

As we approached the Australian coast, I remember the boatswain going around with a bell one morning calling the passengers out of their beds to come and see Kangaroo Island and all the kangaroos hopping about. Of course this was only a ruse to get them up. We first sighted land in the vicinity of Cape Otway. I recollect the wind was blowing from the land, and it was quite warm. We arrived off Port Philip Heads the following morning, hove to and took a pilot on board. The passengers rushed to one side of the ship as the pilot came alongside and gave the ship a heavy list. The captain, I remember, ordered them back. He said they would capsize the ship and drown all hands. I think we had to beat up Hobson’s Bay as it was blowing a northerly wind and quite warm.

However, we arrived safely at the anchorage between Williamstown and Sandridge in the afternoon of the 22nd October, being exactly three months on the voyage. This was the longest voyage the Marco Polo had made, and Captain Wild was much chagrined at finding the Kent which we passed on the voyage snugly at anchor on our arrival.

The SS Great Britain was also anchored a short distance from us. This was the trip on which she fired off some guns

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going up Hobson’s Bay on being released from quarantine, which frightened the Melbourne people they being under the impression that the Russians had arrived and were going to blow Melbourne to pieces.

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Arriving and Settling in Melbourne – October 1854

Shortly after we anchored a number of passengers went ashore with the tug boat, my father included, who went to look for a house for our accommodation. Mother

and I were left to spend the night on board along with many more of the passengers who were in no particular hurry to disembark. However, next morning lighters and tug boats came alongside for the passengers and their luggage and my father, having returned from Melbourne, we all shipped on board lighters and tugs and bade farewell to our good ship, which had brought us safely over such an expanse of ocean. I felt a pang of regret at leaving the vessel which had been our home for three months, but the excitement of seeing Melbourne and the New Eldorado soon banished regretful thoughts out of my mind. On the last night we were on board a large fire could be plainly seen burning in the city which turned out to be the Sir Charles Hotham Hotel at the comer of Flinders and Spencer Streets, the remains of which we saw next day on our arrival in Melbourne.

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On our way to the mouth of the Yarra we passed several convict hulks painted a sombre yellow colour which was not a pleasant sight. Our passage up the Yarra to Melbourne was rather tedious owing to the number of bends and shallows in the river. But we all arrived safely at Coles Wharf without accident. My father had been fortunate in securing two back rooms of a roomed cottage at 30/- per week, situated in a lane off Flinders St. between Swanston and Russell Streets. The rooms were not 10 ft. sq. The front rooms were rented at 40/-. There was also a single weather-board room erected in the yard, which was let at 20/- per week. All were occupied by different families as houses at this time were particularly good investments.

My father and I walked from Coles Wharf along Flinders Street to see our new home, and as it was a very hot day and blowing a hot wind we called in at the Harvest Home Hotel at the corner of Queen Street to get a drink. This was the first house I entered in Melbourne. After inspecting our place and arranging for the cartage of our luggage and furniture, we went back to the wharf for Mother, and finally we arrived and settled down in our new abode. The first purchase Mother made was a loaf of bread from the baker who called and, which cost 1/8. “This is the staff of life; it is my first purchase in Australia.”

Our next difficulty was to procure water. As we had no water cask we had to depend on our neighbours for a day or two till we got one. We used to go down to the river in the cool of the evening and bring home a few buckets full, the Yarra being the only water supply at that time in Melbourne, and the price was 8/- a cask delivered from a water cart. The weather was very hot and the mosquitos were troublesome to us new chums. I had no bed to sleep in, and I camped on top of a large chest in the kitchen which I invariably fell off during the night in my sleep, owing no doubt to the ravenous mosquitos. Our neighbours in the front were a young couple, Scottish like ourselves, and fortunately, we had been introduced to them in Edinburgh

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previous to their sailing from Leith some 12 months before us in the ship Wanderer, which took six months to reach Melbourne. Charles Gardiner, the husband, was a blacksmith and was employed in a small shop off Flinders Street at 25/- per day. He was a first class tradesman and in due time started business on his own account at Ballarat and made a lot of money. My father was unsettled as to what he would do. He had brought out from home a spring van and a set of silver-mounted harnesses, but they were useless without the horse, and horses were scarce and very high in price. He found also that his van and harness were not exactly suitable for the rough work and roads of the city and suburbs of Melbourne. He also brought out a quantity of crockery ware, among which was a most elaborate dinner service, articles, which were totally unsuited for the times. He placed them under offer to some of the hotels in Melbourne, but he had great difficulty in disposing of them.

Eventually, he got rid of the dinner service by selling it at a loss. The van and harness were stored in the meantime with an agent. When he decided to try his luck at the diggings, he found a partner in a fellow shipmate who was affected with the gold fever, and they decided to try Frost Creek as a new rush had broken out in that district. I remember I escorted them when they started as far as Flemington when we met with an immense number of Chinamen who were going along in single file with their bamboos and baskets carried on their shoulders on their way to the gold fields. I don’t think I had ever seen a Chinaman before and their costume and style of walking riveted my attention. The Chinese were arriving at that time in thousands as there was no restriction to their immigration. Eventually, a pole tax was introduced, which put a check on their wholesale admission into Victoria.

The diggings, as far as my father was concerned, didn’t prove a success. He was not many weeks away when he returned. His mate had no money to carry on and no returns in the shape

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of gold coming from the mine they gave it best and my father returned home. About this time, a great agitation was going on amongst the miners on the various gold fields with reference to the licensing fees imposed on them by the Government, which ended in civil war and bloodshed. I well remember the open air meetings held in the vacant ground in front of St. Paul’s Church, corner of Flinders and Swanston Streets and the powerful speeches made against the Government and in favour of the diggers, the Governor, Sir Charles Hotham, getting his share of abuse from these demagogues.

The mounted troopers or police were very prominent in the streets of Melbourne at that time and a portion of the l2th and 40th Regiments who were stationed in Melbourne were sent to Ballarat to resist the rising of the mines which was contemplated. The powder magazine on Batman’s Hill was closely guarded by the crew of the war sloop Electra and for a time great excitement prevailed all over the colony which ended in the collapse of the miners at the Ballarat riot, when a number of the leaders were captured and brought to Melbourne for trial as rebels against the Queen’s Government. The sympathy of the general public for the miners was so great that numerous petitions for a general amnesty were presented by the residents of Melbourne, Ballarat and other Gold Fields and a majority of the legislature were in favour of the prisoners. But Sir Charles Hotham was angry and obdurate and dismissed all appeals, curtly saying that “rebels who had taken up arms against the Queen’s authority must be tried and dealt with as the law directs”. So the trials had to go on and eventually, through the able defence of Messrs’ Aspinall and Michie, the famous barristers who appeared for the diggers, the proceedings were turned in the prisoners’ favour and all were acquitted. When the last prisoner went free the rewards for the capture of the principle leaders, Peter Lalor, Vern and Black, who were in hiding, were withdrawn, and under a new Chief Secretary, reforms were initiated for the settlement of the Miners’ grievances.

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The Governor, Sir Charles Hotham, never got over this trouble and after 18 months tenure of office died on the last day of the year 1855. I remember seeing the British flag hoisted to half-mast on the signal staff on Flag-Staff Hill and the minute guns fired from the same position. The Flag-Staff Hill was at that time the only signal station to denote the arrival of shipping in Hobson’s Bay, there were no telegraph lines from the Flag-Staff Hill when the vessel was anchored. It was a fine sight to see a full-rigged ship coming up the Bay with all sail set and rounding up to her anchorage off Williamstown.

At the time of the Governor’s death we were living in Queensberry Street North Melbourne, in a small cottage near Leicester Street and as the Governor’s funeral had to pass that way to the New Melbourne Cemetery I had a splendid view of the procession. I shall never forget Major A.K. Smith of the local Volunteer Artillery who was mounted on horseback, and he being a very fat man and the weather exceedingly warm, how uncomfortable he looked, exposed to the hot sun and dust.

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William Irving

William Irving - Memoir · PDF fileThe Survey Ship Llewellyn, ... ‘To William Irving...

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