THE MAJOR MITCHELL TRAIL – PART 4 (FINAL)

                                                                                 

For Parts 1 to 3 of the re-tracing of Major Mitchell’s 1836 expedition see my Pieces to Share blogs posted, respectively, January 2023, October 2023 and November 2023.

     

I have said something about Major Mitchell the man in my opening remarks in each of these offerings on The Major Mitchell Trail and, in doing so again (and by way of recap), I plagiarise his abbreviated life story from a publication of some 70 years ago – written long before the release of the Trail book.  

"Sir Thomas Mitchell: Explorer, soldier, inventor, writer and legislator born at Craigend in Stirlingshire, Scotland on June 16 1792.  Offered the position of assistant to Surveyor-General Oxley, Mitchell accepted and, less than a year after his arrival in Australia, became Surveyor-General when Oxley died in 1828. As such he accomplished the survey of Eastern Australia and the division of its settled areas into towns, public reserves and highways. In 1831 he headed an expedition into the interior and traced the course of the Bogon and Darling Rivers. Five years later he set out again and coming upon the junction of the Darling and Murray Rivers, pushed directly south into the unexplored country of Western Victoria and penetrated toward the coast. Mitchell was so enthralled with the new country that he named it Australia Felix (Happy Australia). He followed the Glenelg River for some distance and on August 17 1836 arrived at Portland Bay where the Henty brothers had established a large farm. Mitchell made other trips but eventually gave up exploration. He died at the age of 63.”

 

 

 

The Trail – Maps 18 to 25 [days 109 to 138]  

 

20 September to 19 October, 1836

 

The expedition is heading towards Sydney. The Trail book does not cover the New South Wales section of the home journey, after the Murray had been crossed.  Neither shall we.

 

Remember, Mitchell had split the expedition into two on 19 September 1836, and left the Stapylton group to follow once the cattle were sufficiently spelled.  The sojourn was expected to be two weeks, and indeed it did – the following group resumed their journey on 3 October – but not before Stapylton had scored a eucalypt with the words “Depot”, “Stapylton”, and “Party of Nine”, and marked the engraving with charcoal and grease.  The tree was “discovered” in 1877; and its stump is now in the Dunkeld and District Historical Museum.

 

Meanwhile Mitchell had encountered a small party of aborigines; and in his diary noted the contents of the women’s food bags: “three snakes, three rats, about 1kg of small fish resembling whitebait, crayfish, and a quantity of the small root of a plant Mitchell called ‘tao’ (yam-daisy).”

The Mitchell commemorative cairn beside the Willaura-Wickliffe Road, dating from 1986, with badly-weathered signboard

 

Our re-tracing as close as possible to Mitchel’s route took us through the township of Willaura – which rates a special mention because of its uniqueness, the uniqueness of a small settlement (population a little over 400) in having a thriving bakery.  We noted the full range of bread and cakes: the baker having finished his day’s duties in the bakehouse now happily ensconced in the shop communing with all comers; a steady stream of customers, many of them tradies appearing from nearby (and, I suspect, distant) assignments.  And fine produce.

 

                                        Willaura Bakery, then (1920s) and now

 

Over succeeding days Mitchell travelled steadily north-eastwards, crossing the Western Highway nearby to Buangor.  He climbed and named Mount Cole, and noted that the range ahead resembled the lower Spanish Pyrenees, although not so steep.  Over time, a range some 25 km to the north became known as the Pyrenees!

 

We were not able to find the cairn shown on the map as being alongside the Western Highway some ten kilometres from Beaufort.  We searched back and forth for an hour, and suspect that it may have been the victim of significant highway duplication works.  There was no evidence, however, of the cairn having been re-located to either of the new roadsides.  The transition from stone cairn to rubble is brief, and one way. 

 

We had more success at Lexton, where the 24 September 1836 cairn is beside a secondary road, a little out of town - although we located it only with the help of a long-time local who “thought” there may be a monument up past the church.  As you can see, the cairn is snuggled under an enormous eucalypt, and is anything but conspicuous.  Although the Trail book advises that Mitchell camped at Lexton on 24 September 1836 the tablet on the cairn says he “passed through” on 25 September 1836.  On reflection, I suppose both are correct!

                                        The Lexton cairn and its guardian eucalypt

 

The next day Mitchell climbed Mount Greenock, near the Ballarat-Maryborough Road, and “enjoyed such a charming view eastward from the summit, as can but seldom fall to the lot of the explorers of new countries.  The surface presented the forms of pristine beauty, clothed in the hues of spring; and the shining verdure of these smooth and symmetrical hills, was relieved by the darker hues of the wood with which they were interlaced.”  Notwithstanding, Gary and Dan Andrews were unable to find the Mount Greenock cairn.  Is it on the summit, or has it been nonchalantly tossed somewhere out of view?  My frustration at once again having our quest stymied can be gauged from my notebook entry: “…..the directions were shit, and the track was shittier.”

 

However, as in every boys’ book of adventure, things got better – adversity always leads to triumph.  By the Pyrenees Highway, Newstead, on the Castlemaine side of town, is the 27 September 1836 cairn – a little smaller than most of the others, with cut-in corners.

                                        
                                        Major Mitchell tucked away near Newstead

 

Mitchell continued, bearing in a virtual straight line, through present-day Castlemaine, halting before the terrain became mountainous.  And a little beyond Castlemaine, while camp was being set up on 28 September, Mitchell rode to nearby Mount Alexander; and later praised Tommy Came-last for their safe return to camp after dark.

 

At Golden Point, where the expedition passed the next day, there is a commemorative cairn – not erected in 1936 though, but earlier in 1914, funded by public subscription.

 

   

                                                 The cairn at Golden Point

During a three-day layover (near Faraday) for boat-carriage repairs Mitchell and some of his men took a round-trip journey to Mount Macedon, on the way passing Kyneton.  The Trail map indicates a Mitchell cairn at Kyneton, but is otherwise unhelpful, and we searched the town before heading for the tourist information place away from the town centre, on the road to Melbourne – only to find the commemorative cairn nearby.  At least we were spared the blank look of some tourist official having no comprehension of what we were enquiring about!         

 

 

That’s not so hard to find, is it?

 

From Mount Macedon Mitchell gained an uninterrupted view of Port Phillip.  “I ascended without being obliged to alight from my horse, and I found that the summit was very spacious, being covered towards the south with tree-ferns and musk-plant…….The summit was full of wombat holes, and, unlike the side I had climbed, was covered with the dead trunks of enormous trees in all stages of decay.”  Given the (? tenuous) association with distant Port Phillip, Mitchell gave the mountain the name Macedon [Philip of Macedonia, get it?  I don’t get it. The bay had been named after the first governor of New South Wales, Captain Arthur Phillip – different spelling!].  Mitchell later learnt that the aboriginal name was Gebour, which he thought was “a much better one”.

 

The Trail book indicates a Mitchell cairn at Mount Macedon, but we were unable to find it – nor was the leader of a group of touring students, who had no knowledge of its existence, or of Major Mitchell’s!  There is, however, a plaque dedicated in 1976.

Mitchell’s encounter with Mount Macedon is eloquently described by Professor Geoffrey Blainey:

“Climbing Mount Macedon at sunset on the last day of September 1836 he wondered if he could see the new village of Melbourne.  The bay was far away but the horizon became clearer in the fading light.  He looked in vain for rising smoke but at the northern end of the bay he ‘saw a mass of white objects which might have been either tents or vessels’.  The white objects were Melbourne, which was then one year old.”

 

The expedition re-grouped back near Faraday to the south of Mount Alexander; and then spent two nights (3 and 4 October 1836) in the shadow of Mount Lofty before moving on past the Coliban Falls and the spot for the village of Redesdale.

Beside the park in the centre of Redesdale, mounted on a boulder, there is a plaque unveiled by Geoffrey Blainey after a 1986 commemorative trek in Mitchell’s honour.

 

There were four campsites along the way from Redesdale to Nagambie, and two commemorative cairns – one at Mitchellstown, and one at Nagambie itself.  Mitchelltown exists where the Mitchell expedition crossed the Goulburn River, although that claim to fame has yielded a population today of 59 souls only.  Mitchell’s route is shadowed by today’s main road a few kilometres to its north.  Mitchell’s diary of 5 October 1836 records the curious fact that in an abandoned native encampment Piper found a razor which, on it blade, had the words “Old English”.  Another curiosity:  The following day the expedition passed through an area where the red Ironbark eucalypts were in flower.  Large quantities of the blossoms were collected under Piper’s supervision, and steeped overnight in water to make a sweet beverage that Piper called “bool”.

 

The Goulburn River at Mitchelltown was reached on 8 October. 

       

 

 

                        Commemorative cairn in Major’s Creek Reserve, Mitchellstown

 

There was already another Goulburn River, in the other-side-of-the-Hume part of New South Wales, and Mitchell wanted to re-name this present river after the Aboriginal name, Bayunga.  Nothing came of this – the “southern” Goulburn had been named by Hume and Hovell, and the name stuck.  The Trail book continues: “Mitchell decided that the river was not fordable, so he immediately launched the boat to seek a suitable place for swimming the cattle and horses across.  By evening all animals and equipment, other than the boat carriage, were safely across.”  There is an oil, by Henry Gritten, depicting the crossing of the Goulburn by boat.  The Trail notes that Gritten used artistic licence to include in the background a small cottage and a fence.

 

Mitchell’s progress thereafter might be described as steadfast, virtually in direct lines – near easterly to Wangaratta, then near northerly to the Murray.  The absence of mountains, however, did not relieve the expedition of occasional troublesome terrain; indeed, before arriving at Nagambie on 9 October there had been “careful negotiation of a labyrinth of lagoons and low-lying land”.  Lake Nagambie was described as a “deep lagoon”.

 

There is a Major Mitchell cairn in the main street plantation of Nagambie……  

 

                                        Major Mitchell, passed by, 9 October 1836

 

…..and another at Miepoll South, where the party passed on 11 October.

 

                                  The Miepoll South cairn

 

On 11 October Mitchell recorded the sighting, far to the south-east, of mountains “of considerable elevation”, and alpine snow.  From Mitchell’s field notes we can identify these peaks as Buffalo, Feathertop, Buller and Strathbogie.  Camp that night was near Violet Town.  The Violet Town commemoration dates not from 1936, but from 11 October 1986, the 150^th anniversary.  Better late than never!  It is a large stone sculpted by nature rather than cast in cement. 

 

 

                                        The Mitchell stone at Violet Town

 

The Trail book graciously reminds us that Mitchell wasn’t the only explorer of note – by pointing out that also at Violet Town there is acknowledgement of Hamilton Hume and William Hovell, who passed by some twelve years earlier than Mitchell, in December 1824.

 

                                        The Hume and Hovell cairn at Violet Town

 

Remember Stapylton?  Back on 19 September his group had stayed behind the main expedition to allow the cattle to recover strength.  He’d resumed his journey after two weeks; and the Trail book records that the Stapylton party arrived at the Goulburn River two weeks after Mitchell had moved on.  As ordered, Stapylton made camp to await the return of the boat from the Murray.

 

13 October was the day of the expedition’s tragedy, when James (“Tally-ho”) Taylor was drowned while attempting to cross the Broken River (then known as the Swampy River).  Taylor was Mitchell’s groom and trumpeter.  The drowning occurred a little south of the present railway bridge in Benalla. 

 

The Trail book states that near the entrance to the Benalla Art Gallery “is a granite boulder with a plaque, the wording of which most comprehensively recognises Mitchell’s stature”, and which states that Mitchell camped near there on 13 October 1836.  Fatigue must have been upon us, for we failed to see the boulder.  Searching my notes for some memory trigger I find one word only: “Demolished!”

 

The Trail book has fulsome praise for the country between Benalla and Wangaratta, that is the particular landscape traversed by Mitchell, taking in first Greta, then Glenrowan.  Both are by-passed by today’s highway; and both are suffused today with Kelly Country legend, legend forged by Ned some 40 years after Mitchell passed by.

 

The Trail book attests to the presence of a Mitchell memorial cairn at Wangaratta, but having overnighted and breakfasted there we decided to continue on, and to locate the Wangaratta memorial on our return later in the day.  That day was moving along quickly, and at Chiltern we were fortunate to find a branch of the Upper Murray Regional Library, and to find that library open.  Chiltern, with a population fewer than 1600, is fortunate to have a public library, albeit one opening for three days a week only.  We were twice lucky in that the librarian, although never having seen the cairn, had some knowledge of its location a few kilometres out of town.  And so it proved.

 

         
       About five kilometres from Chiltern, where Mitchell passed on 17 October 1836

 

There must have been some excitement in the air, for on the same day the party covered the more than ten kilometres from the Chiltern camp, and were able by nightfall to descend to the “low verdant alluvial flats of the Murray”.  Here is the full entry from the Trail book for the next day, 18 October 1836: “The day was spent searching for and making a safe crossing of the Murray, which the cattle eventually achieved by evening. Mitchell and some of his party camped near the far bank of the Murray on the north-western edge of present-day Howlong.  The rest of Mitchell’s men remained on the other bank for the night, with the horses and carts.”  The balance of the expedition – carts, horses, and men – crossed the Murray on the next morning, and that is the last we hear of them in The Major Mitchell Trail book.  Except that – late change of plan – rather than take back the boat for the Stapyleton party to cross the Goulburn, a four-man team returned with the objective of building a raft for that purpose.

 

Meanwhile, the present-day pilgrims were in the home stretch!....... but not without a final bit of confusion.  The Trail book, more than once, directed us “towards” Howlong, Howlong across the Murray, Howlong in New South Wales.  We took this as meaning “to” Howlong, and should have realised that the 1936 Victorian commemorative cairns  project would not likely have resulted in a cairn across the river.  So, back in Victoria, we found the final cairn in the grounds of the Gooramadda public hall.

 

                                        The final cairn along the Trail – 17 October 1836

 

The gate was open, and we parked in the grounds of the hall.  While inspecting the cairn we were approached by a woman, a local who was preparing the hall for a family occasion at the weekend.  She was curious that we were curious, had always been aware of the cairn, but knew little of it.  This is typical of the disinterest we have encountered along the Trail.  Major Mitchell and his achievement seems no longer to be embedded in the popular consciousness.

 

Later, back at Wangaratta, we searched in vain for the cairn referenced in the Trail book.  The Information Kiosk at the Performing Arts and Convention Centre [the Visitor Information Centre “has closed”] was devoid of information and we chased the wild goose for an hour before abandoning the chase…...but settled for the two plaques on the bridge over the Ovens River.  

 

It’s unlikely that either of these is the “cairn” referenced in the Trail book but, as Ned from Glenrowan said, such is life!

One final look at Mitchell's achievement, from an old school wall map.  Follow the red line, from Bathurst:

 

Postscript:

 

Mitchell returned to Sydney on 3 November 1836, 15 days after crossing the Murray.  Under direction of the Governor, Mitchell’s report to the Governor was published in the Government Gazette a few days later “for general information”.  That report includes the following passage – remember:  nearly 190 years ago.    It is a no nonsense and gracious conclusion to the remarkable expedition, and the mark of Mitchell the man:

 

“It has been in my power, under the protection of Providence, to explore the vast natural resources of a region more excessive than Great Britain, equally rich in point of soil, and which now lies ready for the plough in many parts, as if specifically prepared by the Creator for the industrious hands of Englishmen.

 

“I have much pleasure in stating that I have reason to be well satisfied with the zeal and perseverance of Mr. Stapylton on all occasions.  It will be seen by this report, and, more fully, by my journal, how well I could rely upon both.

 

“All the men of the party have behaved well, and are returning in safety, with one exception, James Taylor, who was unfortunately drowned in endeavouring to swim a horse across a swampy river on the 13^th instant.

 

“I beg leave to bring also under His Excellency the Governor’s notice, ‘Piper’, an aboriginal native of Bathurst, who has accompanied me throughout this eventful journey, and has proved a valuable auxiliary, as will appear in almost every page of my journal.”

 

I invite you, having read Mitchell’s foregoing words, to read them again to yourself aloud.  Mitchell the soldier, the surveyor, the recalcitrant public official, the forceful leader through Victoria for 138 momentous days, was as eloquent as a poet………and his words may bring moisture to your eyes.

 

-------------------------------- 

 

I hesitate to add a cavilling endnote, but after having spent a number of days in the re-tracing of Major Mitchell’s epic journey with the Trail booklet as my guide, I must express my extreme disappointment that that booklet has not been updated since its publication in 1990.  The booklet, admirable as it is, does not provide precise locations of the many Major Mitchell memorial cairns, and a number of them we were simply unable to locate from the descriptions provided.  I can’t say that generally the cairns are in disrepair although some are, but after 88 years some curatorial attention would be welcome.  But, more reprehensible, is the fact that the whole concept of the Trail has disappeared off the Victorian Government’s radar.  

 

After some enquiry I was recently able to direct my concerns to the Department of Environment, Land, Water and Planning.  I suggested that Mitchell’s achievement was significant – the instigators of the memorial cairns in 1936 certainly thought so – and surely there was some niche in Government that might be persuaded to revive the Mitchell cairns (and the Trail book) as a project.  I offered to make direct contact with the responsible Minister.  The senior public servant who responded to my entreaty first indicated that he had a copy of the Trail book “in a cupboard somewhere”, then indicated that he is in charge of “our Statewide State Forest recreation programme and all our visitor sites and trails are available through our More to Explore App”, and added: “We have no plans to add the Major Mitchell Trail to that.”  

 

After my further persistence he confirmed that there are “no plans to resurrect the Major Mitchell Trail” and, moreover, that contacting the Minister would be a waste of time.............communication would be channelled through him, the public servant, “to prepare a response and I suspect you know what that is likely to be”.

Gary Andrews

 

 

THE BOX TREE

 

It has been a feature in my life for over 70 years.  It is a tree, once mighty, now much diminished - a sort of parable for us all.  It stands solitary in a farm paddock near Chinkapook in the Mallee region of Victoria.  This is the area where I hail from, and the particular paddock was once owned by an aunt and uncle and, way before them, by other family.  I make it sound a long time, but white settlement of that part of the State, and thus the arrival of those ancestors with their determination to clear their land and to plant their wheat, was as recently as 1910.  So, not that long ago; but from that year dates the tree’s emergence from the thick mallee eucalypt landscape that the pioneer settlers cleared.  The newcomers left an area of a few acres of scrub, where they scraped a dam for run-off, and built a meagre home with outbuildings, and established a garden; but, essentially, the square-mile block was cleared of trees.  Such was the mindset of the time.

 

Except that they left the big tree standing in the middle of the paddock.

 

Some years ago, I was told that botanists “from the city” had inspected the tree, and they thought that it might be 750 years old – you can now add another 50.  So, more’s the miracle that the land-clearers back in 1910 recognised the tree’s uniqueness, and resisted putting it to the sword.  

 

The tree is a grey box, a Eucalyptus microcarpa, described in the literature as long-lived single-trunked, with grey fibrous flaky bark.  It is typically a tree of woodland plains, and there is no way of knowing whether the tree was originally accompanied by others of its kind, or whether it stood unique among the mallees.  And no way of knowing why this tree chose a habitat not of woodland plains, but of undulating sandhills.  Was the local environment that different 800 years ago?

 

Over the years and the generations, the tree’s generous canopy has provided shade and shelter for sheep, and the same for farmers at lunchtime; and the tangle of fallen limbs and disturbed roots has been a haven for rabbits and foxes – subject always to attack from the latest eradication campaign.  I don’t recall any time of an eagle’s nest – perhaps the tree is not quite tall enough for comfort!  My friend, PK, told me that as a lad in the early 1940s he made piece-rate money “sewing wheat bags” under the tree; and he assured me (some years ago) that there were others in the district who knew of the tree, and had some appreciation of it.  I venture that today that number has been reduced to no more than the present owners……and to my family. 

 

Think also of the years before the white usurpers.  The tree was surely full grown by age 100, so imagine it witnessing at least 500 years of aboriginal homage and myth-making.  The stories that the most recent 100 years can tell are comparatively few indeed – sparse of people, scarce of incident.

 

The activity of the years under the tree and around its roots has meant that no seedling ever survived.  It is the last of its tribe. 

 

Members of my family have known the tree familiarly as The Box Tree, and we’ve proudly shown it to generations of visitors, these days with a sense of regret at the deterioration age has wrought.  That deterioration can be seen from these two images.

This first I took in 1965, near 60 years ago.  A branch has broken off and died, although still attached, and a great limb has sagged to the ground, but the tree is sturdy and alive in every respect.

The second image I took a couple of days ago.   Clearly, recent years have not been kind to The Box Tree.  The fallen limbs in the undergrowth are clear evidence of its many collapses and loss of structure.  Yet, what remains seems robust enough.  My intention in posting this blog had been to pay tribute to the tree “before it’s too late”, but that now seems presumptuous.  Sure, its best years don’t lie ahead, but am I foolish to think that there could be another hundred of them?

 

Gary Andrews

 THE SUN SHONE IN 1934

 

Hanging on the fence was a large plastic bag with a scrawled notice: “Free.  Help yourself.”  I resisted at first and passed by; then returned to see what it was that had so little value that it was being given away, but so much value that the householder couldn’t bear to throw it in the bin.  It was a bag of old newspapers, by then only three remaining.  Now, somewhere I have a sizeable box of historical newspapers, some quite intact (apart from the inevitable yellowing); some disassembled, having emerged in sheets from underneath about-to-be-turfed linoleum.  And, to be honest, since having been rescued by me they have been perused very rarely.  However, the combination of curiosity and gratis was not to be ignored!  I selected one paper only:  The Sun News-Pictorial of Saturday, September 15, 1934 - 36 pages.  Sadly, the four-page weekend supplement was missing.                                                                                                                                                                      

 

The price, near 90 years ago, was one and a half pennies (as spoken: pen-e hay-pen-e), equivalent of 1.25 cents today.  

 

The weather forecast for that day was: “Chiefly fine.  Cloudy later.”  This should have been welcome news for the end of season football fans, but those fans were mightily neglected by the paper in 1934: working backwards from page 36 (as you do!), there was no mention of football, indeed of any sport, until page 29.  Horse racing and the day’s Moonee Valley fixture features for most of page 20, with page 21 hosting some coverage of today’s Rose Hill meeting, plus some other sporting news: E. Naismith won the golf yesterday at Metropolitan, and Kingston Heath have appointed a new Manager.  There are a number of items on coursing, including results from several “straight track” and “circular track” races at Maribyrnong and at White City (whippets raced at Flemington Bridge); and for the third successive year, Prahran and North Melbourne will meet in the final of the Catholic Basketball Association competition.  And, provided weather conditions are favourable, fast times are expected in today’s two Victorian Homing Association’s “old birds” races from Mooroopna (100 miles) and Dunolly (93 miles).  Notwithstanding this burst of sporting activity, on these two pages there was still room for a display advertisement for Richmond Pilsner, The Better Pilsner, 100% Pure, indeed The King of All Beers,

positioned a column away from Whatever party you vote for, don’t forget to vote for Ballarat Stout. No party complete without it! 

 

And there’s more sport on pages 15 and 16:  there will be 39 riders in today’s Gippsland 100-miles cycling road race; and arrangements are almost finalised for the upcoming (October) 1089-miles Centenary Road Race.  And Hakoah will be premiers after finishing top of the soccer ladder, with remaining placings being determined in the final two rounds.

 

Returning to the football on page 29, the surprising if not horrifying news is that AFL football (then VFL) occupies a mere one column (out of five).  Eight teams are vying for the final four.  The semi-finals begin next Saturday.  That’s all.  The balance of the page holds small news items about boxing, croquet, VFA football, and Amateur football.  The most exciting six-round bout of the year - Harry Summers’ points victory over Lan Fay - had last night attracted a shower of coins into the ring; and club officials at Richmond City are so pleased with the footy team’s form that they are treating the team to a week-end trip to Rye.   

 

So, taken altogether, there was very little sporting news.   When did Melbourne’s obsession with sport become so dominant as to occupy today so much of the public’s imagination and so much daily newspaper space?    

The 1934 format had a photographic spread on both the front and rear pages, with no clue whatever to the breaking news stories of the day.  Instead, the front cover page features three photographs of a St. John’s Toorak wedding, with four garland-wearing bridesmaids attending bride Miss Jocelyn Outhwaite and bridegroom Mr. Gibson Shaw, the bride’s veil “a victim of the north wind’s pranks”. 

The rear cover page is a mixed bunch of photos referencing (without page numbers) news items appearing somewhere inside – go seek. 

 

 

And there is the Stop Press in the bottom corner.  No longer today a feature of the daily papers, the Stop Press was once the first go-to for all readers – a small bulletin in red ink, added after the paper had begun printing, of sufficient moment or interest for the presses to be stopped for the last-minute insertion.  In this case, the Stop Press advised that the touring Australians were 7 for 104 in response to North Scotland’s first innings score of 48 [this coming off the recent Bill Woodfull-led Australia/England five-test series in England, with Australia 2, England 1, and 2 tests drawn]. 

 

The “pictorial” flavour of the paper re-emerges in the centre pages, pages 18 and 19, featuring:  scenes from the picnic golf gymkhana at Peninsula Club in aid of the Children’s Hospital at Frankston; bathers at St. Kilda encouraged by yesterday’s warm temperature; a model wearing a “new season’s blouse of rucked blue-grey crepe silk with jabot neck finish”; a Royal Air Force plane flying over tanks in manoeuvres mimicking warfare on Salisbury Plain, plus gas-masked artillerymen man-handling guns into position at Aldershot; and three photos showing preparations for today’s general election.

 

Speaking of which, that election was sufficiently transfixing as to occupy all of page 10 on election day……..apart, that is, from the Melbourne Tyre Co. advertisement for “brand new throughout” batteries and “brand new” re-tread tyres, and the four-panel strip of the cartoon Pop.  There is a listing of the eight Victorian Senate candidates (for the three vacant seats), and the 70 candidates for the 20 Victorian House of Representatives electorates.  We read that “eleven schools of political thought are represented” by those 78 candidates.  Notwithstanding The Sun’s apparent laid-back attitude on election day it nevertheless made its editorial sentiments clear in its page 6 cartoon:

Incidentally, this cartoon of the day shares the page with the Sun’s Editorials (including a recommendation for Lyons' re-election), and with the Fifty-Fifty letters to the editor.

 

Prime Minister Joseph Lyons had been a member of the James Scullin Australian Labor Party government, but during a tumultuous 1931 he defected, and emerged as leader of the newly-formed United Australia Party; and under Lyons that party won government in December that year.  [Lyons remained Prime Minister until his death in April 1939.]  Lyons’ Australian Labor Party rival on September 15, 1934 was again the indefatigable James Scullin, who’d lost the Prime Ministership nearly four years earlier; and page 3 of The Sun tells us that “Mr, Scullin Shows Confidence”, notwithstanding the accompanying headline “Non-Labor Victory Expected at Election Today”!  Why say “Non-Labor” instead of “Government”? 

 

Moreover, as if to show that politics is relatively unimportant, page 3’s political prophesying is sufficiently brief to leave enough space on the page also to advise that the price of a gallon of petrol was expected next week to rise to one shilling and sixpence (15 cents) and one shilling and sevenpence (16 cents) respectively for the two grades available.  Also, a seventeen-year-old youth was accidentally killed near Mornington yesterday evening by a pea rifle fired by his brother; a South Australian farmer was yesterday gored to death by a bull; and a man died at South-West Rocks N.S.W. after being stung on the foot by a bee while walking on the beach.  These snippets of news are characteristic of the entire publication - there are literally dozens of reports.    

 

Page 17 and part of page 16 comprise advertisements for the theatre and the talking pictures.  On stage at His Majesty’s was the “stupendous spectacular musical production” White Horse Inn, with a company of 140 artists - but no mention of the composer and lyricist.   Across the road at the Comedy Theatre was “London’s Longest Run and Most Thrilling Play”, Ten-Minute Alibi (prices ranging from two shillings to six shillings – that is, twenty cents to sixty cents).  Alice Delysia was starring in “The Hilarious Comedy”, Her Past, at the Princess; and at the Apollo The Merry Malones were into their 12^th Record Week of “Musical Comedy Supreme”, a.k.a. “George M. Cohan’s bewitching pageant of glamorous gaiety”.  More music was to be had at King’s Theatre: first time in Australia, Tantivy Towers, presented by the Melba Conservatorium of Music Opera Society; while the Town Hall anticipated the return next Saturday night of the miracle boy of the piano, Philip Hargrave (who 20 months later, at age 14 ½ aborted a proposed study trip to London, and announced that he was giving up a musical career to study medicine).  The world of opera will be inhabiting Central Hall next Monday night when Manzoni’s Orchestra with artists and chorus, all conducted by Contessa Fulippini, present Grand Opera.  

 

The big opera news, however – half a page of it - is that later this year, from 29 September, the Royal Grand Opera Company will be presenting Grand Opera in English, at the Apollo [presuming that The Merry Malones have terminated their bewitching pageant]: a season of Aida, Madame Butterfly, Il Trovatore and La Tosca.  The first appearance in Australia of conductor, Robert Ainsworth, sometime conductor of the British National Opera, and Royal Opera Covent Garden, and a most impressive cast of singers, including Florence Austral, Walter Widdop, Muriel Brunskill (as it happens, Mrs Ainsworth), Norman Allin and Browning Mummery.  In the opera world each of these names would be well remembered today, so a stellar company indeed.  First among equals, and featured in Aida and Tosca, I expect that Florence Austral was the linchpin of the season.  Born in Richmond (Melbourne) in 1892, Austral was one of the prominent sopranos of her era, principally starring in Wagnerian roles.  The multiple sclerosis which she endured from as early as 1930 forced her retirement in 1940.  The last word to Wikipedia: “By general critical consent, she remains the finest dramatic soprano ever produced by Australia.”

 

The city centre movie roll-call:  Morning Glory at the Regent, Catherine the Great at the Plaza, The Bowery at the Hoyts de Luxe, King of Jazz at the Mayfair, Tarzan and His Mate at the Metro, Melody in Spring at the Capitol, Once to Every Woman at the Lyceum, That’s a Good Girl at the Athenaeum, Mandalay at the State, Footlight Parade at the Melba, and The Battle at the Majestic.  Clearly a number of these films have sunk without trace over the intervening 90 years, as have most of the theatres.

 

The custom of the times in 1934 apparently decreed that a number of pages should be quite advertisement-free:  pages 2, 3 and 4, page 12, pages 18 and 19 (the centre pages, as already mentioned), pages 22 to 25, pages 29 to 32, and page 34.  Oh, except that page 32 has an advertisement about which I make no editorial comment: “Reduce Bust – Quickly!  New Discovery Slenderises Oversize Bust – Takes off One to Three Inches”, followed by the photograph of a comely maiden set against her rather more ample former self, plus accompanying testimonial, plus a coupon encouraging a plain-wrapper envelope communication with a Sydney address to request an “amazing something”.  

 

Page 35 – the final inside page - has a couple of columns of advertisements, but these are births, deaths, etc., and they hardly interrupt the page's general news – actually, 16 bits of news crammed into three columns.  Judge the diversity:  13-year old cyclist struck by tram in Lygon Street; in Sydney, Australian billiard player Walter Lindrum has a break of 759 (unfinished) in response to Englishman Joe Davis’ 747; two youths were yesterday admitted to hospital after suffering poisoning from carbon monoxide fumes at a banana ripening room at Victoria Market; the Premier thinks the Yarra River is dangerous for oil tankers, and that “if the cost of laying a pipe line to the city, and other essentials, were not too high, it would probably be much better to have Westernport the oil port for Victoria”; and more than 200 lantern slides which it is alleged were Communist propaganda…. were seized…..at Victoria Dock this week……Although the slides are not considered to be of a seditious character some of them are said to be unfit for public exhibition……A charge of smuggling has been laid.”

 

There are three full-page advertisements.  On page 9, Hartleys Sports Stores (Melbourne or Your Country Dealer) illustrates a range of 12 tennis rackets price-pointed in order from the Balmoral 15/6 ($1.55) to the Silver King 75/- ($7.50). The smashing illustrated player wears long trousers.  

 

 

On page 11, the Richmond Furnishing Company are celebrating their fiftieth year in business, with the suggestion that you “exchange your home worn goods for new designs”, such as a settee and two armchairs for £6/17/6 ($13.75). 

 

And on page 33: “……for those occasions when you must look your best”…..Berlei Figure Foundations, offers three images, two in their full-body foundation garments complete with suspender straps.

 

There are a couple of display advertisements (not full page): one comprising a testimonial to Malvern Star bicycles, by Hubert Opperman; one for the “Argosy” four valve battery radio in veneered walnut cabinet, complete with batteries, accumulator, aerial and earth £15/10/- ($31.00).   There are a couple of columns of Shipping news, and three pages of Classified Advertisements (pages 26 through 28) - providing, as much as any other part of the paper, a window into the 1934 past, rich pickings indeed for the curious and for the sentimental.  A couple of for instances: Brash’s of Elizabeth Street have player pianos (pianolas) priced from £75  ($150.00) to £98 ($196.00), with rolls and stool free…….nota bene: this is not a display advertisement, it is a one inch classified ad.   And, available freight-free from Hughesdale, at 5/- (50 cents) each, are Black Orpington and Rhode Island Red chickens.  Furthermore, there’s a 1931 Pontiac coupe as brand new with genuine 23000 mileage, a bargain at £65 ($130.00).  

The classifieds include a couple of columns of Medical ads. (at 8 pence a line, 9 pence on Saturdays): touts from “practitioners” claiming to have the good oil on the incurables (deafness, constipation, nerves, rheumatism), and the unmentionables (acquired genito-urinary diseases of both male and female) - with invitations to access “plain-wrapped medical goods for married men”.   No, I don’t know either!

 

And, so it goes.  Thousands of words – informative for the daily reader in 1934, fascinating today for its comprehensive portrait of past times.  A full page of “social” news; a full page of “Varied Items to Interest the Home Woman” (from what I can see, informative and not patronising); and two pages of “Magazine Section”, including short stories and poetry.  And not to forget three pages of Country Town and Farm; and a page of Money & Mining, including yesterday’s stock-market quotes.  It’s all there.

 

How to conclude this wallow?  Perhaps with an item to bring us back to just how long ago 80 years was.  “The customary 100 yards handicap to end Australia’s Test tour has been arranged at Forres tomorrow, but the prospects of catching an early train to London may cause either its abandonment or postponement.  Handicaps are:  Wall scratch, O’Reilly 2 yards, Bradman 3 yds, Brown 5 yds, Ponsford 6 yds, Barnett 7 yds, Darling 8 yds, Ebeling, Chipperfield, and Grimmett 9 yds, Woodfull, Oldfield, and Kippax 10 yds.”

 

Gary Andrews