The Last Voyage: To India and Australia, in the 'Sunbeam'

Lancers and Soudan Contingent

Monday, June 20th.– The day of the grand volunteer review (the beginning of the festivities in Jubilee week) dawned bitterly cold, as indeed one must expect in midwinter. I got leave from the Doctor, with great difficulty, for Tom to go to it in a closed carriage; for he was still suffering much from his eyes. Lady Loch drove with me to the ground in an open carriage, and of course we had an excellent place close to the saluting-flag, and were able to admire the march past of the troops. They seemed an excellent and well-drilled body of men. The Lancers and the Royal Naval Brigade especially attracted attention. All the party went to the military tournament in the evening except Tom and I, who stayed at home with Lady Loch. The wind was very high and keen to-day, and seemed to increase in violence towards evening.

Tuesday, June 21st.– During the night it blew half a gale, and the wind incessantly shook all the little lamps which are to be used at the Jubilee illuminations to outline the frames of the windows, producing discordant and sleep-dispelling noises.

At half-past ten the day's celebration began with the Governor's levée, which was tremendously crowded by all sorts and conditions of men. There were two black chiefs from Fernshaw. Lady Loch first presented her address to the Governor from the ladies of Victoria, and then hundreds of other loyal addresses followed from all parts of the colony. There was considerable confusion, and the scene, as we looked down from the gallery at the end of the ball-room, was very animated and amusing. Directly after the levée came a grand lunch given by the Mayor. I went for a long drive, first to St. Kilda, and then on to the Convent of the Good Shepherd, which enabled me to form a very fair idea of the suburbs of Melbourne. I was particularly struck with the enormous width of the roads. Such space appears to us unnecessary, but I am told it is needed for the occasional passage of mobs of cattle. We met one large mob of, I should think, more than five hundred head, driven by half a dozen men with long stock whips. The stock-men appeared to travel comfortably, for some buggies followed laden with their simple camp equipment.

Wednesday, June 22nd.– At twelve to-day the children and I paid a visit to the law courts, where we were met by Mr. Justice Kernford, who, being engaged in court himself, deputed Mr. Sheriff Read to show us round. The courts seem well arranged, and the rooms are much more handsomely furnished than similar places in England. The library attached to the courts was filled with books of reference. There are smaller rooms for consultations with clients. There were also one or two large reception-rooms, in which hung some portraits of former Governors and Judges.

We had an early dinner, and then all dressed for the ball; assembling first in the large private hall a little before nine, where we formed ourselves into a procession. The costumes were so rich and correct in their details that the sight must have been very pretty as we passed through the crowds of spectators (who had been arriving for hours, and had filled the public reception-rooms), and took up our positions on the daïs.

For the first few minutes the crowding was tremendous, as everybody wished to shake hands with the Governor and Lady Loch. In course of time, however, the throng began to clear away, and for the rest of the evening it was possible not only to walk about but to dance in perfect comfort. It was a magnificent spectacle, and the arrangements seemed admirably conceived and carried out, the Fountain Court, covered in by a temporary structure, being perhaps the prettiest of all. At one o'clock the doors of the supper-room were thrown open. Not long after supper Sir Henry and Lady Loch and I retired; but I believe that many of the people did not get away until five o'clock. The illuminations were beautiful, especially among the shipping, both at Williamstown and Port Melbourne, and the little 'Sunbeam' made herself as gay as she could with red and blue lights.

Thursday, June 23rd.– The event of to-day was the christening of the central hall of the Parliament Houses, to be henceforward known as the 'Queen's Hall.' An immense number of people had assembled. The daïs, to which the Governor, Lady Loch, and we ourselves were led, had been placed at the foot of Mr. Marshall Wood's fine statue of her Majesty, and everything was arranged to ensure a splendid coup d'œil; but all the details of the ceremony have been so fully described in the newspapers that I need not repeat them here. It was worth coming all the thousands of miles we have traversed by sea and land to have the opportunity of witnessing such loyal enthusiasm.

Directly after we left the hall I hurried on board the 'Sunbeam' to receive a couple of hundred guests, and had only just time to get back to Government House to dine and dress for the State Concert at the Exhibition building, which was densely crowded. The combined musical societies, under the skilful leadership of Mr. Herz, opened the proceedings by singing the 'Old Hundredth,' in which the audience joined with great heartiness. This was followed by a grand Jubilee Ode, composed by Dr. Mackenzie, and by several excellently rendered solos, among the performers being Mr. Beaumont, the tenor, whose 'Death of Nelson' brought the house down, and Miss Amy Sherwin, 'the Australian nightingale,' whose rendering of 'The Harp that once,' 'Within a Mile of Edinboro' Town,' and 'Home, Sweet Home' was simply perfect.

Friday, June 24th.– To-day a demonstration of schoolchildren, said to be the largest gathering of the kind ever held in the colony, took place in the Exhibition building. Twenty thousand children must have been there; and as they each wore a rosette and carried a little flag, the scene looked gay as a summer garden. Of course there were the usual loyal anthems; and besides the cheers in the programme the children did a good deal of happy shouting on their own account. The Bishop of Melbourne gave them an excellent address, and all the arrangements were admirably and carefully carried out.

Saturday, June 25th.– Awoke early after a fairly good night, and set to work at once on my correspondence, which accumulates terribly in spite of my efforts to answer every letter as it arrives. I made many futile attempts to write up my journal, but was interrupted by numerous interviewers, especially by secretaries of charitable societies, anxious to get some share of the proceeds derived from showing the 'Sunbeam.'

Precisely at twelve o'clock we started for the races at Caulfield. The road lay for several miles through prosperous-looking suburbs consisting of villas and a multitude of small wooden houses with corrugated iron verandahs and roofs. However convenient this material may be for such purposes, it does not add to the beauty of the landscape. Bungalows in India, and indeed all over the East, look picturesque and pretty, with their deep wooden verandahs, which must surely be much cooler than these corrugated iron houses, said to be hot in summer and cold in winter.

We arrived at the racecourse at about a quarter to one. The heavy rain of last night had swamped the place, and though luckily the course was not flooded, it was very heavy going, and a great deal of the ground close to the course seemed quite under water. I heard a story of a lady having to swim her horse over a field during this morning's run! It was bitterly cold, and we all felt glad of the excitement caused by the appearance of the jockeys, mounted on nice-looking horses. I fixed my mind on horse number twelve on the card, and thought he looked extremely well as he cantered past the stand. The poor animal kept up bravely till near the end, when he caught his foot in a hurdle, while going at a fearful pace, and fell, breaking his off-leg so badly that he had to be shot on the spot. His jockey escaped with only a severe shaking. I had no idea until I came here what steeplechase riding was like in Australia. To-day, just before the first race came off, an ambulance-carriage was driven into the centre of the ground and took up a central position so as to be able to quickly reach any part of the course. I was assured that it was not at all unusual for two or three jockeys to be injured in one race. Another significant and permanent adjunct of the Caulfield racecourse is the neat little hospital, provided with every possible medical and surgical appliance for remedying injuries to the human frame. There are eight beds in the hospital, and I was told that they had at times been all filled with serious cases. Such a state of things degrades the good old national sport of steeplechasing to the level of Spanish bullfights, where the toreadors hear Mass before going into the ring. It is not wonderful that these dreadful accidents happen, for some of the fences are truly fearful, consisting of a big tree cut into four or five pieces, nailed firmly one on top of the other to a height of four feet six inches. This arrangement precludes all possibility of the fence yielding if the horse touches it. The argument in favour of this fence is that it represents the real fence of the country, and that horses are accustomed to jump it. The accidents, which are nearly as frequent and as bad in the flat races, occur generally from the tremendous number of starters. To-day there were thirty-two in one race and forty-seven in another, and some of the worst casualties were caused by one horse falling and others tumbling over him.

At half-past two we left, for the Governor had to open the bazaar in aid of the Convalescent Home in the place of Lady Loch, who was unable to leave her room. We drove to the Exhibition building, which did not look half so pretty as yesterday when it was filled by the children. However, everything went off well according to the programme, and after one or two short speeches, and a few pieces on the organ, we made the tour of the bazaar, and tried to find amid the quantities of pretty things something to buy, which is always a difficult matter. From the Exhibition building Mr. des Graz and I proceeded to the yacht at Williamstown, whither she had been obliged to return on account of the rough weather off Sandridge. My telegram had not been received, and I had to wait at the station, until a civil greengrocer volunteered to drive me down to the pier alongside of which the yacht was berthed. After the spacious rooms of Government House the 'Sunbeam' cabins looked very small, but they are snug and bright. When one is so many thousands of miles away from England the various little treasures scattered about them remind me of home and its happy associations, and I feel not utterly cut off from the scenes I love so well.

We were packed up ready to go to Sir W. Clarke's charming place at Sudbury, when we received a telegram saying that in consequence of a death in his household he could not receive us; so all our plans have to be changed. Tom joined me on board the yacht shortly before midnight, after a pleasant evening at the banquet given by the Melbourne branch of the Imperial Federation League.4

Tuesday, June 28th.– I was awakened early by the pattering of rain on the deck, and on looking through the portholes I could not see three yards ahead for the curtain of wet mist which seemed to hang before them. Tom was anxious that we should give up our projected journey, for he was much afraid of the risk I should run from the cold and damp. But, just as I always in England go to a meet on a fine day because it is fine, and on a wet day because I hope it will clear up, I determined to start now. I was already dressed by ten o'clock, when the Governor, and a few others whom Tom had invited to accompany him as far as the Heads, arrived. The fog was still so dense that the deputy harbour-master would not allow the yacht to be unmoored; and after waiting some time, the Governor returned to Melbourne, whither I also went by the 10.45 train. Tom – who had settled to take the yacht round to Sydney – had to postpone his departure, as it was impossible to move out; and we afterwards learned that many accidents happened during the fog. From Spencer Street Station we drove across to Princes Bridge Station, and thence proceeded at a snail's pace – still on account of the fog – out of the city, till we got to Mitcham, when it began to clear. A few minutes afterwards the sun came out brilliantly like an English summer's day, and when we reached Lilydale it really felt quite hot.

Messrs. Cobb & Co. had sent a Tom Thumb sort of coach and a buggy, into which our numerous party could by no means squeeze. However, we packed both vehicles as full as possible, and sent for another conveyance, familiarly known as a 'Tip-up,' its narrow wheels making it liable to upset except on good roads.

About three o'clock we reached St. Hubert's, a pretty house, the owner of which is now in England with his family. One of his sons remains to manage the estate. We were soon comfortably established in pleasant rooms looking on to a sunny verandah. The view from our windows was perfectly enchanting, stretching away over the distant mountains, now covered with snow. A tremendous swamp lies between the house and the foot of the range, which accounts for the heavy mist that rises at sunset. My room was delicious with a blazing fire, and after lunch we went round the cellars with our kind host, and saw all the interesting and various processes of wine-making. Mr. de Castella has introduced the best methods of preparation, as practised in Europe, and has succeeded in producing wines of a quality equal to the finest supplied from the French and German vineyards. By the time we had finished our tour of inspection it was cold and dark, and after dinner we all went early to bed.

Wednesday, June 29th.– We were called at half-past six, and soon after nine made a start, in two coaches, on a cold and wintry morning, for Black Spur. Our way first lay through the vineyards, which were not in their best looks, having only just been scarified, as the process is called. It means cutting off the branches and reducing the vines to small and ugly bushes, destitute of leaves at this season. On our way we passed a large 'selection' belonging to Mr. McNabb, who is a great judge of prize cattle and stock of all kind, and who, like many other Scotchmen in the colony, seems to have prospered in everything he puts his hand to. Further on we came to Koordal, a 'reserve' for the aboriginals. It has a nice house, and the land is good. The aboriginals are rapidly dying out as a pure race, and most of the younger ones are half-breeds. Even in this inclement weather it was sad to notice how little protection these wretched beings had against its severity. We passed a miserable shanty by the side of the road, scarcely to be called a hut, consisting merely of a few slabs of bark propped against a pole. In this roadside hovel two natives and their women and piccaninnies were encamped, preferring this frail shelter to the comfortable quarters provided for them at Koordal. The condition of the men of the party contrasted very unfavourably with their appearance when they presented themselves under the charge of Captain Traill, the Governor's A.D.C., at his Excellency's Jubilee levée last week. To-day they looked like the veriest tramps, and were most grateful for a bit of butterscotch for the baby and the shilling apiece which we gave them after an attempt at conversation.

From Healesville we rattled merrily over an excellent road, the scenery improving every mile, till we reached the picturesque little village of Fernshaw, a tiny township on the river Watt. Important as an absolutely pure water supply is to a city like Melbourne, where the present provision is anything but satisfactory, we could not help regretting that this hamlet and several others must be cleared away in the course of the next two years, in order to provide space for the gathering-ground of the city's drinking water. The increased facilities for travel afforded by the railway, now nearly completed to Healesville, will, however, enable people to make new settlements on the other line of hills further from Black Spur. The memory of Fernshaw will always linger pleasantly, and I rejoice that I have seen it before it is swept off the face of the earth by the requirements of the big city near it.

From Fernshaw up the Black Spur must be a perfectly ideal drive on a hot summer's day, and even in midwinter it was enchanting. The road is cut through a forest of high eucalyptus-trees, varying from 100 to 450 feet in height, and from twenty to fifty, and even seventy, feet in girth. At intervals roaring torrents rush down gullies overgrown with tree-ferns, and full of dicksonia-antarcticas and alsophilas. To-day they looked very curious; for, instead of growing as usual, with their fronds erect or nearly level, all were bent down by the weight of the late heavy fall of snow, so that they resembled graceful umbrellas and parasols. So fairy-like was the sylvan scene that I half expected to see the curved branches open softly and disclose naiads or wood-nymphs. I had always been told that these fern-gullies were charming, but I never thought anything could be half so lovely as this romantic ravine. If only the sunlight could have glanced through the trees and thrown some shimmering sunbeams on the bright green leaves, it would have been even more delightful. After climbing up the hill by a steep but good road we arrived at Myrtle Gully, called after the trees which grow there. They are quite different from our idea of myrtles, though their dark and glossy leaves contrast finely with the lighter green of the young tree-ferns and the blue-green of the eucalypti. My botanical ideas are getting quite confused and upset in Australia, and I must study the new forms with the assistance of some kind director of gardens. It is necessary to understand the classification of these plants, for the common names are entirely deceptive and utterly opposed to one's preconceived ideas of the species to which they belong.

We climbed up to the summit of the hill, and on our way saw some rail-splitters at work. These men are peculiar to Australia, and I cannot but think they do harm to the country. On payment of a fee of 1l. a year they are allowed to go into the forests and kill the finest trees by 'ringing' them. Often the trees thus dealt with are left to die as they stand and disfigure the forest. In this way an enormous quantity of valuable timber seems to be uselessly destroyed. The rail-splitters remind me of squirrels, who nibble off nuts before they are ripe, and then take a dozen away to their winter's nests; or of a vixen, who will bite the heads off twenty chickens and only carry one back to her cubs.

On our return to the comfortable inn at Fernshaw we found cheerful fires ready to welcome us. This inn is very prettily situated. At the back runs the river Watt, brawling over its stones like the veriest Scotch salmon-trout stream. It is full of excellent imported trout, which flourish well in these antipodean waters and attain a weight of six or seven pounds. Across the river is thrown a primitive bridge, consisting of the trunk of a big tree cut in halves. Very slippery and slimy it looked, and I did not feel inclined to attempt the perilous passage. Near the inn were some extremely nice gardens with the trunks of old tree-ferns filled with flowers, producing a pretty effect as rustic flower-pots.

Precisely at half-past two we started on our homeward journey, and with the exception of a few minutes' stay at Healesville to water the horses, and at the blacks' camp to have a little more chat with them, we did not stop anywhere on the way. Since morning the blacks had turned their huts right round, for the wind had shifted and they wanted shelter from its severity.

At 5.15 we reached St. Hubert's, just saving the daylight over the last seven miles of bad road. We all felt better for our pleasant expedition, though the violent joltings of the road and the bumpings of the coach were decidedly fatiguing.

Thursday, June 30th.– We were called at half-past six, and hastily got up to pack off the luggage before setting off at eight, on a fine though misty morning. We had a delightful drive to the station at Lilydale, after bidding a regretful adieu to picturesque St. Hubert's.

Once in the suburbs of Melbourne, it was necessary to crawl along at a snail's pace on account of the numerous express trains running into the city at this early hour. We did not reach the terminus until nearly eleven o'clock, and were glad to drive quickly to Menzie's Hotel for breakfast. A large mail arrived for us from Wellington, as well as heaps of letters and telegrams. At half-past twelve Mabelle and I went to the Botanical Gardens, where Mr. Guilfoyle, the superintendent, met us, and was good enough to allow me to drive all round the gardens. He kindly explained the arrangement of the plants, clearing away many botanical difficulties which have puzzled me ever since I landed in Western Australia. I do not think I ever saw so well-arranged and beautiful a garden as this, and never have I had so intelligent and kind a cicerone as Mr. Guilfoyle. There is a beautiful lake in the gardens, well stocked with different species of wild-fowl. We drove all over the exquisitely kept lawn, yet the carriage-wheels appeared to make no impression. The grass grows from a mixture of buffalo and other kinds of grass-seeds – a combination which produces a velvet-like sward about three inches in depth, and apparently incapable of injury. At one part of the gardens where the carriage could not possibly penetrate, Mr. Guilfoyle had thoughtfully provided a chair and two men to carry me through the fern-gully. This rivals what we saw at Fernshaw yesterday, and I was able to observe what I could not well see there – the undergrowth of smaller ferns and the parasitic ferns growing on the trunks of others. I was quite sorry to leave. Mr. Guilfoyle sent us away laden with interesting botanical specimens, and gave Mabelle and me each a sweet-smelling bouquet of daphnes and white camellias.

We lunched at Government House. After bidding good-bye to H.E. and Lady Loch, from whom we have received so much kindness, we went to Menzie's Hotel, calling on our way at Cole's Book Arcade, which is one of the sights of Melbourne. A most curious place it is; consisting of a large arcade three stories high, about the length of the Burlington Arcade in London, though perhaps rather wider. The whole place from top to bottom is one mass of books, arranged in different styles, some according to price and some according to subject. It was crowded with intending purchasers, as well as with readers who apparently had not the slightest intention of purchasing, and who had only gone there to while away a leisure hour, and to listen to the band, which discoursed sweet music to them whilst they read.

After strolling through this wonderful arcade, we collected the luggage from the hotel and sent it off to the station, following ourselves in time to catch the 4.55 train to Seymour.

Friday, July 1st.– We left by the 9.30 train for Shepparton, in pouring rain, passing through a flat rich grazing country, which seemed well stocked with sheep. The grass looked luxuriant, and must be excellent for dairy produce. The fences were different from any we had seen before, made of felled trees laid lengthwise all round the paddocks. As may easily be imagined, they form a formidable obstacle for young horses, many of which were running in the paddocks. All this was interesting, but the beauties of the distant landscape were quite blotted out by the rain and mist. However, when we crossed the Goulbourn, the sun began to try and peep through the clouds, which had hitherto hidden everything from our view. Shepparton is a rapidly growing township, with 2,000 inhabitants. A few years ago there was not a single house in the place.

The township of Shepparton, like all Australian settlements, is arranged in square blocks, the houses consisting chiefly of four- or six-roomed cottages of one story, built of wood or corrugated iron. At present the whole place appears to be under water, but its inhabitants say that in summer it is beautiful, and the pasturage certainly looks excellent. In the course of our drives we went to Mr. and Mrs. Robinson's house. There I met some ladies and gentlemen interested in ambulance work, to whom I said a few words and gave some papers. I hope they will communicate with the head-centre at Melbourne, and obtain permission to establish a branch-centre here. Everybody seems to agree that it would be most useful, as the doctors are few and far between, and there are only five medical men to an area of 1,000 square miles! We left by the 4.30 train for Seymour, Mr. Rose driving me to the station in his carriage with his pretty pair of ponies. They are said to be perfectly quiet, and I suppose they are, according to Australian ideas; but they did not come up to my notion of docility. Besides sundry kicks and buck-jumps, they had both legs over the splinter-bar once, one leg over the pole twice, and another leg over the traces, which fortunately came unfastened, or in the regular kicking match which ensued some mischief would have been done. I expected every minute that the little carriage would have been broken to pieces, and that we should have been landed at the bottom of the quagmire over which the road appeared to run.