1884 - Cox, A. Recollections - CHAPTER IX. New South Wales...

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CHAPTER IX

AFTER my return to New South Wales, the colony of my birth, my first trip into the interior was to the western district, where I owned land and stock left to me under my father's will. The property willed by my father to his first and second family was in the form of both real and personal estate, consisting of land, live stock, houses, mortgages, and Bank of Australia shares. Legacies left to his first family were directed to be paid at once out of the sale of these bank shares. When that was done there still remained bank stock to the value of £1000 or more, which, during the minority of the second family, was of course held by our trustees. In other words, the second family, of which I was one, were in the position of shareholders in the bank. The Bank of Australia collapsed, and that happening, all shareholders were held to be legally liable for the whole amount of indebtedness of the bank, amounting at the time to the respectable sum of £250,000. The bankrupt bank had assets, but they were of nominal value, and were subsequently disposed of by what was euphemistically called a legal lottery, and for an inappreciable sum. My brother and I held tickets in this sham and novel lottery, under an impression that as shareholders in the bank we were certain in any case to have the financial life crushed out of us, and that nothing worse than that could happen to us in consequence of our taking tickets, even if we drew no prizes. In dealing with the so-called prizes, there was some show of an attempt at classification. They were divided into "good" so-called, and "bad" or questionable securities. The impression on the minds of deluded ticket-holders was that although the "bad" or "questionable" might turn out "very bad," that the "good" would prove properties worth winning and holding. My brother and I at least believed thus much. The great lottery took place, and the result, so far as it was interesting to me, was that I found myself nominal proprietor of a farm of 50 acres included in the catalogue of "good" titles, and town allotments, so called, to the number of twenty-eight in a village picturesquely situated and graphi

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cally described as on the "wooded banks of a lovely river" and all with water frontage.

I lost no time in visiting the locality of this great prize of a 50-acre farm, filled with pleasurable sensations at the prospect of entering into possession of my property. Riding up to the door of the shanty which served the purposes of a house, I encountered the occupier, regarding him as my future tenant, and inclined to congratulate myself upon having such already provided for me. This interesting individual stared hard at me, and upon my telling him who I was and what had brought me there, remarked: "Oh, you are Mr. Cox, are you; and you are the man that considers himself entitled to this farm that I have been in occupation of for the last twelve years or more? Well, let me tell you at once that you are not the only one who considers that he has a claim to the farm, and that I am the man who means to dispute your right." I confess I was not a little taken by surprise at this glib announcement, and not too well pleased at this illustration of tenant-right. I ought to add that the man in possession was backed up by an outrageously ill-looking bulldog, straining at his chain and keeping up a barking accompaniment to his master's talk. The conclusion that I quickly came to in the matter was to let the question of ownership stand over to a more convenient season.

The explanation afterwards furnished me by the bank authorities as to this man's position was that he had been a tenant on the property for some years, paying his rent regularly up to the time that it appeared to be no one's business to look him up, and that, feeling indignant at being utterly neglected, he had at last set up a claim of ownership on the ground of long and unquestioned occupation. I never saw my friend in possession after this interview--his society did not seem to me worth cultivating. In the end I made a present of my right, title, and interest in this property and in the documents relating thereto to a smart and enterprising lawyer's clerk, who seemed to believe that under clever manipulation something might be got out of it. The forty-eight tickets supposed to represent titles to town allotments I subsequently sold for as many half-crowns, and this is all I ever got out of the great Bank of Australia "lottery." In course of time the bank assets were realized, and the large deficiency in the form of a liability was made up by two calls of 60 per cent, upon the paid-up shares, which had to be met, and were

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finally satisfied by those able to pay. The final settlement of this bank claim was a relief to a large number of people, myself amongst the number, who until the account was closed by the payment in full of the debt due by the bank, had no security that they might not be sold up at any moment; it having been declared that each individual shareholder was legally liable for the whole amount of debt, £250,000.

Relieved of this pecuniary liability and of the anxiety that it had occasioned me, I felt a free man, and the first use that I made of my freedom was to make a slave of myself for life. I met my fate. I took it into my head and heart that I wanted a wife, and in due time I found myself an engaged man. I adopted the novel method of causing my friends and acquaintances to disbelieve the interesting announcement of my engagement by on all possible occasions proclaiming it as a fact. Some were taken in by this open confession, deeming it the most unlikely thing in the world that I should be so ready to publish my weakness. Some thought it incredible that, having gone round the world without, so far as they knew, my having ever seriously thought of matrimony, that I should have been so quickly and completely captivated on my return to my native land without seeming to have made the merest struggle to preserve my independence; adding, "Now, if this story of an engagement had been told of your brother, whom we all speak of as a susceptible man, it would not have seemed so very unlikely a thing, but we thought that you belonged to the wiser sort." Again, my married sister said, "Ah, dear, I never expected you to marry, and I always thought of you as a second father and guardian to my children."

After a twelve months' engagement, the silken knot was tied, in the month of November, in the year 1849--nearly thirty-four years ago, and during those eventful years neither party who had a hand in tying the knot has made any attempt to undo or to cut it. I suppose it must have been rather well tied, as well as made of pretty strong material. There is a kind of knot, a complication of threads so arranged that by pulling at opposite ends and different ways becomes tighter and tighter. This must have been the kind of knot tied on that never-to-be-regretted 26th of November, 1849. I think it is called a love-knot. The dictionaries speak of it as "an intricate kind of knot, so called from being used as a token of love or as representing mutual affection." But I don't want the world to believe

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that my good wife and I have for nearly thirty-four years been "pulling at opposite ends or different ways." I had rather hear on record an admission of the fact that during those years we have each found our own proper sphere to work in, and that the path or orbit described by the one has never been crossed or allowed to interfere with the course of the other.

The first five or six years of our married life were passed in Australia. My interest in stock, sheep, cattle, and horses often took me into the interior; and I rather enjoyed these periodical rides, although the weather at times was hotter than agreeable.

An old Australian squatter, well seasoned to the climate of Queensland, but growing a little tired of semi-tropical weather, took it into his head to make New Zealand his home. His wife left Australia still loving or professing to love its climate, and never could be got to admit that New Zealand, in the matter of climate, was to be compared to North Australia. The husband at last deemed it wise to take his wife back to Australia for a trip, trusting that it would have the effect of opening her eyes to the superiority of New Zealand as a place to live in. The experiment succeeded. After a short experience of the hot weather in Queensland that she had known of old, and had professed to have loved, she exclaimed, "Oh, how I pity these poor creatures, condemned to live in such an atmosphere all the year round. Take me back to New Zealand."

I have never been in Queensland, and know nothing of its climate by experience, but I have lived through many a hot summer in the old colony of New South Wales, which is spoken of as cool by comparison, and I have found that quite hot enough for my taste. When I had long rides before me in Australia in the hottest season of the year, I used to knock off eighteen or twenty miles before breakfast. I then took a long spell, finishing up in the evening with another twenty miles. Swagsmen trudging along a dusty road in a hot dry season, suffer considerably at times. I remember on one occasion, coming up with a man dead-beat, literally unable to drag himself along a yard further. I shall never forget that sight. He was squatted in the dust, unable to stand up, and apparently perishing for the want of a cup of water. The account he gave of himself was that he had been without water for two days, walking the whole time. I had never looked upon a man in such a stage of suffering and exhaustion. His eyes were glazed, and his lips and tongue as black

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as though they had been smeared over with caustic. On my coming into sight, he threw up his arms, exclaiming, "Thank God, someone has at last come to rescue me from death!" Before quite giving in, he appeared to have made a last effort to drag himself along the dusty road; one could see traces of his attempts. He then sat up with his back against a tree. He had been afraid, he said, to close his eyes in sleep, dreading the attacks of native dogs that all night long howled around him. He looked like a man doomed either to madness or death, and could hardly have lingered longer than twenty-four hours. The spot where he was was at least seven miles from water. There were two ways of affording him relief; one, by at once putting him on my horse, holding him in the saddle, and walking by his side; the other, by gallopping to where water was to be had and bringing back a sufficient supply to freshen him up and enable him to sit upon the horse without assistance. Calculating that it would take somewhat less time to gallop seven miles out and seven miles back than to walk and lead the horse seven miles, I determined upon the ride. When I told him that I meant to leave him for a while, he clung to me, seeming to dread the possibility of his being left to die in the wilderness. Putting spurs to my horse, quite equal to the spurt required of him, I covered the distance there and back, quite fourteen miles, in somewhat less than an hour. On coming up to him, he cried out, "Oh, sir, give it to me at once; all of it." I replied, "Not so, I mean to dole it out little by little; now for a first sip," giving him a little, and after a short interval giving him another, and another, and so on, but never much at one draught. I then poured a little over his head, face, neck and hands, which he considered a reckless dealing with it. Reserving two or three draughts in the bottle to be given at intervals during his ride, I after some exertion pushed him up on to the horse. Occasionally, whilst leading the horse, I looked back at him; his eye never wandered from the bottle, and when at last we came in sight of the station hut, where water in abundance was to be had, I gave him the last drop. Lifting him off the horse, I got him into the hut, made him dip his head into a bucket of water, got him some strong tea, and put him on to a bed. The shepherd living at the hut promised to let him rest for a day or two, and undertook to do for him all that was necessary until he felt strong enough to move on. Many months afterwards I had the satisfaction of hearing that he quickly regained

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strength, and was full of gratitude to God for having, as he believed, sent some one to drag him from the very jaws of death.

The accommodation-houses along the main lines of road in the interior throughout Australia were, even in those days, fairly well kept. In the hottest season of the year, however, it used to be a little difficult to keep up a supply of fresh meat. A daily slaughtering of sheep was a necessity. On one occasion, pulling up at one of these roadside inns, I ordered breakfast, imploring the landlord to be quick in getting it. I waited patiently for what I considered a long while, but no breakfast was put before me. At last I heard a great noise, and a shouting of "Stop him; now then, hold him, good dog." Jumping up to see what it all meant, I was nearly knocked over by a sheep bounding through the passage, pursued by a dog, a man, and a small boy, who together succeeded at last in capturing him. The excitement over, I asked how much longer I was to wait for my breakfast. "Well, sir," said the landlord, "as soon as ever me and the boy can take off the sheep's skin you shall have your chops."

This brings to a close the story of my life and doings in Australia. The remainder of my life up to the present time, with the exception of two-and-a-half years spent in a second trip to England, have been spent in New Zealand, north and south.