Drung Drung

The "Days of Drung : a history of the Drung district" story was launched at the Dock Lake Reserve in front of a large crowd last weekend,

The weighty tome of 245 pages was written by Helen Curkpatrick and Wendy Donald,

It is filled with many historic and recent photographs and broken into several sections - the history of the district via its schools, churches, bridges, sporting clubs, fires & floods, and importantly it's soldier settlement.

It is evident that lots of research went into compiling the book, and it's great to see local history books with a variety of photographs as pictures tell another story and add another dimension to the depiction of Drung now and then.

The majority of the book is devoted to the families of Drung, telling their stories and history via reminiscences and pictures. It was clear listening to Drung residents and past-residents, that they were extremely proud of their district and fondly remember the events of earlier times.

Many copies of the book were snapped up by the audience, but more copies are available from the Horsham Historical Society. It comes in two varieties - one with colour photographs and one with black & white.

Overland 6

 William David Hamilton's continuing journey north

Between Tenne[a]nt and Attack Creeks we came upon the grave, marked by a rough cross, of Mr. John Milner who was fatally speared by the natives He with his brother and a man named Mr. Ashwin, were I believe droving a mob of sheep from South Australia. The sheep ate a poison plant and in one night 2000 of them succumbed.

We tended his grave by restoring the fork and rail fence round it, collected a horse nearby which later proved to be the murdered man’s. We restored it to his brother at Darwin who was in sore straits there and was glad to regain a horse worth then at least £50.

For some time our food supply had been gradually but surely giving out. At last only flour was left of the provisions and finally came the end of even the daily ration of a tablespoon of flour. We had been supplementing hitherto with whatever could be found. But from now on we were forced to live like the natives without their experience in acquiring food. Bush rats, mice, snakes, lizards, grubs dug out of trees, pig weed and yams all formed part of our varying diet. There were many lean patches however when precious little of these could be found.

Occasionally we were lucky enough to shoot wild duck over a water hole. That was luxury but as water was scarce so was bird life. I remember a water hole, to which my uncle had gone at  sundown to fill a billy, covered with wild ducks. It was a marvellous chance. My uncle, our crack shot, brought down three with his revolver. Untold joy! a whole duck to each hungry traveller. I roasted mine in the fire and devoured it immediately but the other two, older and wiser, made soup and stew which carried them over two meals. The next morning while they were still consuming duck my breakfast was again a la aborigine.

 In parts of the interior hundreds of hawks would hover our heads for hours at a time. These could be shot, but although reasonably palatable at first, we soon sickened of them. at starvation point however any food at all was acceptable.

Sometimes from the isolated telegraph stations we would be lucky enough to receive a few tins of bully beef and some flour but although generous the men there had little to spare. We all suffered badly from barcoo rot and scurvy but gradually we made our way towards the better country.

Don't miss this opportunity

   
The Royal Historical Society of Victoria's Support Group is holding a seminar titled "Opportunities in information technology for historical societies" in St Arnaud next Saturday.

Topics to be covered include:

'History online : a whole new world'

'Digitise your photographic collection and reap rewards'

'Making new friends : using Facebook to take your group in exciting directions'.

More information is available at the RHSV site - www.historyvictoria.org.au/http://www.historyvictoria.org.au/

Overland 5

The continuing journey of William David Hamilton beyond Alice Springs.

The natives on the whole avoided us but on one occasion near Ti Tree We we were attacked by them. At daylight, while encamped in li[o]ng kangaroo grass we were awakened by the smell of burning. In various places round us the grass was alight. No one was visible but smoke was issuing from fires in the distance. We could hear the natives signalling (a noise between a cough and a hoot) to one another to attack, the high grass and the smoke forming an excellent cover for an approach. Our man was left to collect the horses, who fortunately at any sign of danger always hovered close to the camp, and made ready for a quick departure. My uncle and I with revolvers ready rode forward to meet two indistinct groups of 6 or 8 yelling spear-brandishing natives who now could be seen advancing. There was so much smoke and so much din that I in my excitement could not tell whether I had shot or merely frightened my assailant. My horse received a nasty spear wound in the neck and I one in the leg, the mark of which I still bear. 

Aboriginal scar tree

My uncle was more fortunate. Neither he or his horse received any injury but as he was a crack shot he probably opened fire and checked their rush, surprising them into disorder. When I asked him later if he had really shot any of them I was curtly told that he could not bear the episode to be discussed. I drew on my own conclusion but in my hearing the matter was never referred to again. Meanwhile the natives fled and we certainly lost no time in putting distance [between] them.

At Barrow Creek, some miles from where we were attacked, a kindly Telegraph Station master and his assistant sheltered us for three weeks until the wound in my leg healed. I think the chief officer’s name was Mr. Stapleton or Singleton and his assistant was Mr. Flint. Here a black-boy of my own age, who had been adopted by the whited[s], and I became great friends. When we left this hospitable roof he wept bitterly but could not accompany us into alien blackfellow country.

At the next telegraph station, we discovered that a few days after we left Barrow Creek this outpost was attacked by the natives with disastrous results. The station master and my friend the blackboy were killed and Mr. Flint the assistant was wounded.

Overland 4

William David Hamilton's journey from Alice Springs

Meanwhile possibilities of settlement in the Northern territory remained unsolved. So our diminished party of three pushed on in the hope that good grazing lands and permanent water would be found there. The virtue of artesian boring which would have made so many inland tracts practicable, were then unknown.

Summer in the desert was to prove almost unendurable, pitiless blue sky, blazing sun, barren country, water scarce often non-existent, food gradually giving out, illness and always heat, dust and flies. Slowly however we made our way further and further Northwards.

Until we reached the river country in the far North water was always scarce.  The isolated water holes on which we were forced to depend were often dried up. Sometimes we found water by digging in the sandy beds but very often we dug in vain. In consequence long thirsty patches would ensue.

The worst period of thirst which befel[l] us was some time after leaving Alice Springs. Our water bags were dry but we expected to replenish at a water hole to be reached at the end of the day’s ride. That proved to be dry. An early start was made the next morning and after riding all day the next water hole was dry. By this time both men and animals were in very great distress. Although worn out we could only wearily and doggedly plod on till we found water or perished for want of it. So after that long day’s ride we continued riding throughout the night. I suffered agonizing pains in the back of my head and neck and my tongue was so black and swollen I was unable to speak. But my uncle was in a far worse plight. He had been delirious most of the second night and only sat his horse through the help of his man, who suffered in the same way as I. We rode 112 miles tortured by thirst, heat, dust and flies before water was found. Even then only for the horses we would have missed it. Seven of the horses and two dogs perished during those awful two days.

We were almost exhausted when the horses smelt water some distance to the right and neighing, cantering and eventually stampeding rushed to it a quarter of a mile off.

Fortunately it was a chain of good water holes and ther[e] was plenty for all. Because of the heat we had ridden naked during the second night so I rushed into the water up to my waist and drank greedily. Twice I did that and twice I was sick. Then I took my quart pot, each person’s only cooking utensil, half filled it, brought it to the bank where I sat down and drinking it in sips was refreshed. Meanwhile my uncle’s man after quenching his thirst tried to me[a]ke the sick man drink but he was delirious and no longer interested in water. We tried pouring it all over his naked form and by degrees he regained consciousness and sanity.

For a fortnight we pitched camp nearby, recuperating as best we could from a pecular [peculiar] fever and ague with which we were stricken. Bill [the station hand] and I soon regained strength. My uncle though was very ill and although after two weeks was well enough to travel again he was still a very sick man and never quite recovered from his dreadful ordeal. Less than a year after returning to his home in the South a particularly severe attack of fever proved fatal and he died at the age of 29 years.

Thomas Gibson Hamilton in 1874,

from "A squatting saga" by Teresa Hamilton

Overland 3

The next installment of William David Hamilton's narrative, from Bringalbert to Alice Springs.

Leaving early in October 1872 we passed through the Tatiara country into the 90 mile desert, along the Coorong and thence to Adelaide. Here it was necessary to equip ourselves as adequately as possible for the inland journey since we were not likely to encounter settlements where food or other commodities might be obtained. An American covered wagon and 6 pack saddles were acquired and a six month’s food supply was loaded up. We then started northwards gradually leaving civilization behind us. 

Wherever possible we followed the route of the overland telegraph which was then in the course of construction. From this route we struck off East or West as terraces of good grazing country appeared.

Overland Telegraph route

These hardy pioneers of the telegraph route were, with the exception of three explorers – Major Warburton, Mr. Gosse and Mr. Giles – the only white contacts we had after leaving Alice Springs.

The season was a dry one and soon the heat, dust and flies became separate torments. Men, horses and dogs were equally afflicted. The dust and flies affected my eyes to such an extent that after one particularly severe dust storm I developed sandy blight and for ten days was completely blind. Daily I had to be led to and from my horse.

At the Fink[e] River (river in name only) we had the misfortune to lose our wagon. For a time it had been gradually been falling to pieces but still miraculously held together. Crossing one sandy bed of the river it collapsed entirely and had to be abandoned. From then on pack-horses carried our stores and belongings.

At Alice Springs, which we reached after many months, Mr. Hassell and his two men dropped out of the party to investigate more fully the McDonnell Ranges. My uncle, however, was satisfied from the little he saw of the ranges that they contained reasonably good pastoral lands. Later on he proposed to return and establish A cattle station there. But he was destined never to again penetrate the centre.

Overland 2

Here is the beginning of William David Hamilton's narrative, I've left the spelling and grammar as is, and inserted corrections and explanations in square brackets [ ]. This post relates to the background and preparation of the journey.

“Overland from Portland to Darwin in 1872" by Ethel M. Tiegs

With our present day methods of transport a trip into Central Australia is fast becoming an everyday event.

In this article I have written an account of an early and little known attempt, apparently the first ever taken, to use the transcontinental route foe(r) economic purposes.

The journey was made in 1872. My father, William David Hamilton, a lad of fifteen at the time, accompanied it, and is I believe the only living member of that expedition.

The following is the story of the journey as far as his memory can recall it after 60 years. [written in 1932]

In 1872, on the eve of my departure to boarding school, I received a reluctant consent from my father [Francis ‘Frank’ Hamilton, 1838-1883] to join his brother, Thomas Gibson Hamilton, on a droving trip through Central Australia. The object of the journey was to search for suitable pastoral lands on which to establish further Cattle Stations.

Lake Bringalbert

Unknown to my mother I quickly linked up with the party which was ready to start from the family homestead Bringalbert station near Edenhope. This was 100 miles from my parents’ station at Sinclair, 21 miles north of Portland.

We had with us a station hand [William ‘Bill’ Kealy a long-term employee at Bringalbert], 120 horses and three dogs. As far as Alice Springs with us travelled another station owner, Mr Hassell [William Hassall of ‘Wootong Vale’] of Coleraine, who took with him two men. He also was seeking new grazing areas.

Last leaves at Linden

The east side of the house

One of Edenhope's historic homes fell prey to the demolishers this week. The grand old house "Linden" has stood on a large double block in Elizabeth Street, opposite the hospital for more than 100 years.
The house was built by Edward Cranage (1856-1948) in the late 1800s to early 1900s, he lived there with his wife Johannah Fitzpatrick. When Johannah died in 1936, he was looked after by his daughter Kathleen "Kit" (1895-1986) until he died at home in Linden in 1948. Kit and her husband Aubrey Osborne (1895-1977) then lived there till they too passed away.

View of the front of the building

The house became the doctor's residence, and Dr Phil Dover and his family lived there for many years, till they moved to Ballarat, and the house convenient to the hospital continued in its role. Recently the hospital sold the building for removal to St Helen's Plains and it is now in the first stages of demolition.