Forty Thousand Miles Over Land and Water

The Botanical Gardens which we went through in the afternoon are most beautifully kept, with acres of mown grass, bright borders of flowers, and shrubs and trees of all kinds. There is a very pretty fern-tree gully, and a large artificial sheet of water, forming a lake in the centre. The gardens lie on the slope of two hills, and the paths winding in and out give it a very extensive appearance. They adjoin the garden of Government House, and Baron von Mueller has been greatly instrumental in their attaining to their present excellence. Such brilliant masses of flowers we saw growing in wild luxuriance. There were rose-bushes trailing on the ground, orange and lemon groves, camellias, and magnolias, bougainvillea and boronia, mixing with all our familiar commoner kinds, as geranium, verbena, lobelia, heliotrope, convolvulus, oleander, larkspur, cape jessamine, and many others.

Monday, November 3rd.—We determined not to let another day pass without seeing something of Melbourne and its public buildings. We took a hansom and drove down Swanston, Collins, and Bourke Streets. Collins Street is the fashionable promenade, and crowded in the afternoon. One of the most noticeable things about the streets of a town like this is the absence of tramways, only omnibuses and hansoms ply, and that curious "growler" of Melbourne, the two-wheeled, covered waggonette. They are laying wood pavement in Collins Street, and are talking of having cable cars. There is a strict "rule of the road" here which obliges drivers to walk across all crossings. We passed the Mint and the new Law Courts; drove up to Sir Samuel Wilson's beautiful hall, which he has built and presented to the town at a cost of 30,000l.; round the Medical College and Museum; and beyond to Ormond College, built by Mr. Ormond. We saw Exhibition Buildings, where the International Melbourne Exhibition was held in 1800-81; the Roman Catholic Cathedral; and then we came to the Parliamentary Buildings.

Mr. Jenkins, Clerk of the House, showed us through these. They are at present unfinished; but from the model that we saw in the hall, they will be a splendid pile of buildings when finished, surmounted by a dome, and estimated to cost 1,200,000l. The contract will soon be decided on, but for the past three years the members from various parts of Victoria have been disagreeing over the material for the building, each member advocating the stone found in his particular district. The library is a fine room, with a gallery upstairs devoted to the local newspapers interesting to the individual members. The house of assembly is very commonplace; but the Legislative Council chamber is rather original, decorated in crimson and gold and lighted from the half-domes in the ceiling. It looks like the room of some old Italian palace. The Council is elected by the people for five years, differing in this from New Zealand and some of the other colonies of Australia, where the members of the Legislative Council are nominated by the Governor for life. The Legislative Assembly is elected by universal suffrage, and the members receive a salary of 300l. a year. The vestibule is very fine and painted dead white, with a marble statue of the Queen in the centre. There is of course a dining-room and bar attached; but there is also the unusual provision of two billiard-tables. They affirm that it operates as the best "whip," and that Government and Opposition members are thrown together by it, and lose somewhat of their mutual acerbity in the friendly conflict of the billiard-balls.

We next drove to the Public Library, a low stone building with a broad flight of steps; it includes the Picture Gallery and Museum. In the latter there are models of some splendid nuggets found in Victoria, including those of the famous "Blanche Barkly" and "Welcome" nuggets, that weigh over 2000 ounces each. The Picture Gallery is the nucleus of a good national collection which is forming. They have several pictures by our R.A.'s, and the latest addition to it has been Miss Thompson's "Roll Call," for which they have given the sum of 4000l.3

The Library is much frequented by all classes, especially in the newspaper-room, where we saw many working-men looking at the papers. It contains some very interesting and valuable books and prints, many of which have been collected and arranged by Sir George Verdon, who takes great personal interest in the Library.

Melbourne has no drainage of any kind; but yet its deathrate is only the same as in London. The Van Yean waterworks, sixteen miles away, supply water to the town. The reservoir contains over six billions of water.

And now, having seen Melbourne, the great metropolis of Australasia—its public buildings, its busy thoroughfares and general "go a-head" look—we must be continually thinking and remembering that it is little more than fifty years ago since the Hentys, sons of Mr. Thomas Henty, a banker in Sussex, were the first settlers in Victoria, and less than fifty years ago since John Fawkner "pitched his tent on the rising ground" of the future site of Melbourne. We met Mr. Henty whilst in Melbourne, the descendant of these first settlers, and owner now of many thousands of acres in Victoria.

My husband had already seen the Premier, Mr. Service, who was most cordial; and all the ministers expressed a wish to be of use to him, or to give him any information in their power. The Daily Telegraph, the Herald, and other papers had interviewed him. Melbourne possesses the best paper in the colonies in the Melbourne Argus, and has the advantage of having Mr. Julian Thomas, the well-known author of the "Vagabond Papers," among its contributors. The Age is also a most excellent paper. The Australasian and Federal Australian are the best weekly papers, and are ably edited.

Tuesday, November 4th.—To-day was the "Cup Day," the greatest event in the racing calendar of Australasia, the "blue ribbon" of their turf.

Melbourne was en fête, with its shops closed and work suspended everywhere—a general holiday. Those who were not at the races, were in the streets looking at those who were going, and there was a look of generally suppressed excitement as to how the event of the day would turn out.

It is very difficult for us at home, with our interest spread over such a much larger area, to realize the intense, the concentrated interest that is felt throughout Australia on the result of "The Cup." It has been the object of speculation, of discussion, and of incessant anxiety to millions for the past few weeks. The excitement is reaching the culminating point to-day, and there are not a few whose interest at stake is so large that they tremble and long for the day to be over—in short, it is the red-letter day of the Australasian Year Book.

We joined in the general feeling of expectation, as we drove along in the stream of carriages that from every sidestreet and road converged to the main one, flowing towards Flemington race-course. As we neared the scene, we saw that the hill behind the stand was black with the mass of human beings upon it, and the lawn and the terrace were crowded. In our royal progress up the course, the Governor received an ovation of loyalty in the cheers and enthusiasm of the densely packed crowd.

The first race was over hurdles, and after the second we went to luncheon. It was not quite such a pleasant day as the previous Saturday, on account of the great crowd. The pretty toilettes were not so well seen, being lost among the many ugly ones, for the "country cousin" contingent were in strong force to-day.

"The Cup" was run at 4 p.m. Never shall I forget the strain and tension on every face as the cry passed up, "They are off!" the few quick observations that escaped some as the horses passed the stand, and then the strange stillness that prevailed as we watched the coloured specks flying along the horizon, as the horses settled down to their work. The minutes were ages! Life seemed suspended in that mass of human beings. The strain and tension suddenly gave way as the horses were "round the corner," and a faint hum ran along far away down the black line, "They are coming!" and the murmur rose into cheers, and the cheers into shouts, and the shouts ended by the waving of hats and handkerchiefs, as, amidst the most intense and extraordinary excitement, "Malua," the winner of The Cup of 1884, flew past the judge's box. "Commotion" ran second.

We took up life again where we had left it, and breathed freely once more.

Rushing down, we pushed our way through the crowds in time to see the horses "weighed in" in the paddock, by special permission from one of the stewards. A royal progress "Malua" made back to the paddock. The crowd leaned over the barrier and cheered, and vociferated, "Well done, 'Malua;' well done!" and her jockey raised his cap many a time in acknowledging the cheers of the populace, for "Malua" had been the general favourite.

We saw all the horses weighed in. The jockeys looked such mere stable-boys out of the saddle, and came on to the scales with saddle, cloth, and bridle in their hands. Many of them had to ride with lead weights to bring them up to scale. We drove off the course before the last race—the crowds melting and streaming away over the open plain as soon as "The Cup," the excitement of the day, was over.

Wednesday, November 5th.—Preparations for the ball at Government House that evening were going on all day.

At 10 p.m. the Governor and Lady Loch, with the guests staying in the house and the staff—entered the ball-room and passed down to the dais at the end, whilst the band played "God save the Queen." Eleven hundred invitations had been sent out, but the magnificent ball-room was not too crowded, and Herr Ploch's band in the gallery sent forth dreamy strains. It was nearly 3 a.m. before one of the most successful balls ever given in Government House at Melbourne was finished. It was succeeded the next night by an excellent concert, given by the Metropolitan Liedertafel, under the directorship of Mr. Herz.

Thursday, November 6th.—I went with Lady Loch in the afternoon to an organ recital at the Town Hall. It is a magnificent organ, very celebrated in the colonies, and finer than that of the Albert Hall. Driving through the town afterwards, the streets were so full, and the air so fresh and bright that it seemed like some spring afternoon in London, with the season beginning.

Mr. Service, the Premier, Lady Stawell, wife of the Chief Justice, and others, dined in the evening. Some of the party disappeared early to go to a dance in the neighbourhood. There are known to be thirty dances in Melbourne fixed for this month of November. Another favourite form of amusement are large theatre parties. The host invites some twenty or thirty friends to meet him at the theatre on such a night, by a little card printed expressly for this purpose, with R.S.V.P. in the corner. He takes the tickets, but it is the exception for there to be a supper afterwards; and the point of the entertainment appears to be "in whom sits next to who."

Melbourne society is dreadfully divided into cliques and sets, which may be partly attributed to the many suburbs into which the town is partitioned. There are the suburbs of St. Kilda, Brighton, South Yarra, Toorak, Hawthorn, &c.; and drawing an imaginary line from the Town Hall, they may be said to extend out round the town to a distance of six miles. I heard many complaints about the great distances, and the social inconvenience occasioned thereby. We saw Melbourne during its carnival of the race-week, and it would not be fair to judge of its gaieties, which were overwhelming just at that time; but I believe it is a fact that all who possibly can, do give dances, small and frequently. There are two houses in which dancing floors have been laid on carriage springs, and all the large houses have their separate ball-room. We were surprised to find how beautifully appointed were most of these houses, though outside they all look much the same, and merely handsome villa residences. Dress is much thought of, and people in Melbourne dress very handsomely, very expensively, but too brilliantly. Not a few of its residents have their gowns and bonnets out from the best London houses.

Buck-jumping was the order for Friday, November 7th. At three in the afternoon, besides ourselves, some fifty others were collected in the paddock to see the famous "buck-jumping" of Australian horses. Those that we saw were provided by Mr. Chomley, picked out from the police paddock at Dandenong; but though they may have been picked buck-jumpers, most Australian horses, for reasons unknown, are born with buck-jumping propensities, which are only knocked out of them by the "rough-riders." So successful are these trainers, that a fortnight after the exhibition we were seeing, they will be used on patrol duty. The first process of difficulty is the saddling and mounting, for which the horse has to be blindfolded on the near side. No sooner do they feel their rider vaulting into the saddle with his knees firmly inserted under the "croppers," or large pommels which you see in all colonial saddles, than they rise up into the air, and descend with their fore-legs stiffened straight out, and, tucking their head between them, kick viciously out behind. One horse always tried to kick the spur, which has to be pretty freely used, for if once they stood still, they would buck their rider out of the saddle in a trice; and it is found to be of great importance that they should be mastered at the first try. Another horse whinnied, quivering with suppressed rage, and after some convulsive wriggling, rushed headlong at the fence behind which we were standing. The rough-riders ride so splendidly that they seem part of the horse, rising and falling with the movement of the bucking. Sometimes, when the horse cannot rid himself of them in any other way, he has been known to wriggle himself out of the saddle, causing it to slip over his head.

A most excellent account of the buck-jumping appeared in the Argus of the next morning, from which I give the following extracts:—

"The first mount was given to Evans, one of the rough-riders. He had to deal with a rakish-looking bay with a wicked eye, who arched his back like a hedgehog when the saddle was put on him. As soon as Evans vaulted into the saddle, the brute gracefully waltzed round three times to gird up his loins, and then, putting his head between his fore-legs, charged into the fence, bucking all the way. Evans slipped adroitly from the saddle as the horse came to the ground, and quickly remounting him, stuck to the saddle like a centaur till the animal was perfectly subdued. The next comer was a bay mare, who showed the most accomplished tactics, but Priestly, a Sale trooper, was an adept in all the artifices of 'pig jumping,' and spinning on all fours, with perplexing gymnastics to vary the programme. A grey half-bred Arab showed the fire in his blood as soon as he was led out, but Fawkner got safely into his seat while the girths were threatening to part, and enjoyed a jump of twenty-five feet and a teetotum-like twirl at the first bound, as a sample of what was to come. But the greatest treat was to come. Simpson, a professional horsebreaker, got on a brown, blue light mare, which submitted to be saddled as quietly as a lady's palfrey, but as soon as she felt Simpson's weight, she wildly rose upright, and went right across the paddock in a series of the wildest rearing freaks. Simpson rode stirrupless for fear the horse should fall back upon him, and by a combination of the rarest pluck, judgment, grip, and nerve, kept his balance apparently as easily as if he was sitting in a rocking-chair. Each time the maddened creature sprang up erect, he coolly clasped his hands under the mare's neck, and swayed as gracefully as a circus-track performer. When at last he rode back with the mare quite under control, he was loudly applauded. Priestly then rode a bay, which, getting under weigh at full gallop, darted for the fence, taking imaginary fences on the journey, while the trooper sat well back, the model of a close, firm seat. After colliding with the fence, the bay broke away across the paddock, but was safely brought up at the lower end. The last exhibitor was old Anchorite, a faithful performer in harness for sixteen years, but a twenty-year-old bucker. Since he was sold to the department, rough-riders innumerable have tried to subdue the old warrior's aversion to the saddle, but with how little success we saw yesterday. Anchorite is not so lissom as some of his younger competitors for evil distinction, but he has learned a few lessons which would be peculiarly disconcerting to a novice. He fell with Simpson, in making a supreme effort to stand upon his nose, but seeing this trooper's performance in the previous round, the spectators were satisfied that nothing quadrupedal which would keep upon its legs would unseat him. As a matter of fact none of the riders were thrown, although several of their horses came down; and it is gratifying to be able to say that the Australian sport of riding buck-jumpers was, with the exception of Evans, displayed by Australian-born riders."

Saturday, November 8th.—We went to the last day of the races, the "Steeple-chase Day," as it is called, because of the second race on the card. At the wooden fence of 4 ft. 7 in., which was immediately succeeded by a stone wall, and opposite the stand, we saw two horses come down. One jockey recovered, and went on over the stone wall in such a plucky manner that he was loudly applauded. A little farther on poor "Friendless," a favourite horse, broke his shoulder over the hurdles, and had to be shot.

The Canterbury Plate caused great interest, because "Malua" and "Commotion," the first and second winners of the "cup," were to meet again. Amid a scene of great excitement "Malua" was beaten, and "Commotion" came in first.

It was a bright, warm day, but the pretty toilettes were exhausted, and the novelty of the scene had passed away. The Victoria Racing Clubs set a good example to other race-meetings by extending their four days' racing over the space of a week.

Monday, November 10th.—The Prince of Wales's birthday, and observed as a public holiday throughout the colonies.

What an excellent thing it would be if His Royal Highness and the Princess of Wales were to visit Australasia. They would receive the unanimous welcome of a mighty people such as even they have not yet known.

The Governor and his staff started with C. and Mr. Wallop for Brighton, where there was a grand review of the Victorian naval and military forces, ending in a sham fight, the enemy landing from nine vessels of war, and being repulsed by the militia on shore. It was terribly sultry and close, and they all came home late, very dusty, tired and hot, to go to a state banquet, given by the Mayor elect at the Town Hall that evening.

Tuesday, November 11th.—We made an expedition for the day to Ballarat to see the gold-mine belonging to the Band and Albion Company. Captain Dale, of H.M.S. Diamond, came with us, and we left Spencer Street Terminus at 11 a.m. Two hours in the train brought us to Geelong, where we stopped fifteen minutes for luncheon.

Geelong is prettily situated on Corio Bay, a continuation of Port Phillip. It has 23,000 inhabitants now, but once it hoped to rival Melbourne. The country we passed through was flat and uninteresting, though all under cultivation; but here you would rather require six acres for one sheep, instead of the six sheep to one acre of some parts of New Zealand.

Now we were able fully to realize the exceeding monotony of the blue gum, which we had previously heard so much about. Nature has fixed upon the gum or eucalyptus-tree as the tree appropriate to Australian soil, and wherever you look you see its straggling branches, and dull, ineffective, blue foliage, with light grey stems. They grow too luxuriantly, as in many places we saw fields that were being cleared of them by "barking" or cutting a ring on the trunk, some four feet above the ground, causing death through the non-communication of the sap. But it is a noticeable fact that much that is imported or grows in Australia, seems to flourish too freely. Take the cacti, the thistles, the sweetbriar, all of which are a plague to the farmer. Look at the "rabbit pest," which has ruined many owners of land, and which still remains the great problem of Australian agriculture. Each separate Government has spent thousands annually in trying to reduce the pest, but to no avail, as it appears the more they are destroyed the more they generate. They are now talking of building at an enormous cost a rabbit-proof wall all along the border of South Australia and New South Wales. Several station owners combined together, and spent in one year the sum of 20,000l. on the extirpation of rabbits, and on one run 1,000,000 were destroyed in a year, or over 27,000 per day.

Some of the houses in the villages we passed through were roofed with "shingles" or narrow strips of wood. They are cheap and easily obtained, but calculated only to last some five or six years.

We arrived at Ballarat at 3 p.m., and found Mr. Tyrell, the Superintendent of the Police, waiting at the station for us with his buggy. He drove us quickly out to the Band and Albion Mine.

We had to wait whilst the night "shift" at four o'clock went down the shaft, and we watched the windlass, which winds the cage up and down by machinery, and which in this case is made of wire rope of one single piece, in place of the manilla rope usually used in mines. I had to dress up in an old petticoat and loose jacket, with waterproof boots; and looked like an old bathing woman when ready to go down the shaft. The mine manager was there, and he and I and C. got into the cage. Three planks of wood, with an iron bar in the centre, to which was attached a hook for the rope, suspended us over the shaft. There was room for two on either side, and we had to stand quite still and straight. Down we shot into pitch darkness, through the narrow hole just large enough for the platform which grated against the sides, so exact was the fit, and often jerked with the uneven winding of the pulley. Down we went into the bowels of the earth, 1005 feet below the surface.

The most curious sensation of descending the shaft is that in the darkness, though you cannot see, you feel that the walls are being passed upwards and not downwards. We flew by the doors of many galleries, going down to the tenth and the last finished shaft. They are sinking yet another now, and were getting rid of the water by sending a tank of fifty gallons to the surface, suspended beneath the cage in each of its upward journeys.

We found ourselves in a cavern at the bottom, lighted by one candle, where the trucks with the quartz were standing ready to be hauled to the surface. At this moment the tank by accident overturned and emptied its contents with an alarming rush at our feet. By the light of our candles we groped along the narrow galleries, three feet wide by five feet seven inches broad laid with a track for the waggons. The slush and mud were ankle deep, and, at a particularly bad place, the old manager, without saying anything, quietly lifted me into a trolly, and ran me along to the end of the gallery. Here there were two miners at work, pickaxing the quartz, and one had just cut a hole for the powder to blast away a large piece of quartz rock, and was about to insert the fuze, which burns two or three minutes before the explosion to allow of the men having time to escape. We marked the dark line in the quartz, within which lies hidden the precious metal, and the roof overhead shone and glistened with bright sparks of gold. In an upper gallery there was an archway formed by a valuable vein, still unworked. Some time ago a "fault" was found in some earth extending for twenty feet. The Company can go on working their claim for some distance further on one side and almost interminably on the other, always supposing that the ore still continues. The miners work in shifts of eight hours each, receiving two pounds a week without rations, and they warm their "billy," or tin can of tea, which they bring down with them, over a candle.

The relief of coming up to the open air again from the damp, muggy atmosphere was great. The cheerful light of day seemed a return to life from a living death. One feels curiously nervous of accidents in a mine, though there can be no more danger there than in a railway tunnel. We heartily pitied all those poor men who spend their lives in the underground pit.