Thanks for the feedback, BEV ...
> I was reminded of a track on a wonderful LP vinyl (remember them?) in
my possession, entitled ‘Packing my Things’, singer William Clauson.
Included was a song called ‘A Wet Night in Greymouth’ which related the
tale of how the good old ‘Rose & Thistle’ pub floated downstream one
stormy night, complete with publican and a crew of thirsty miners on
board. I think it can be found on the internet.
I did check it out and Apple have it available through iTunes, but
unfortunately, the link on Youtube is no longer working ... I had to try
<g>.
Here's the next installment for anyone with some time to read a bit more
about the local bush rangers and how the store-keepers did the banks'
work of collecting gold from the various diggings ... there's some more
river traffic sagas, but maybe not as entertaining as the delivery of
WILD livestock by boat ...
Cheers, ROB!!
rnelson@xxxxxxxxxxxx
----< Grey River Argus, 8 December 1913, page 7 >---->
GREYMOUTH IN THE SIXTIES: (Continued)
As shooting has brought Cobden to mind, the following incident is worth
relating. Few old coasters who do not remember the notorious Burgess,
Sullivan, Levy and Kelly gang. I remember Sullivan quite well and a most
villainous scoundrel he was both in appearance and everything else. He
was the worst of the gang. Whilst they were on the Coast, there was
residing and carrying on business at Cobden, a storekeeper, "Wm. or H.
Dickie" the father of the present M.P. for Waimate. Like most
storekeepers in those days, he did a large amount of business in gold
buying, the modus operandi being an arrangement with the bank, by which
they obtained credit for cash lent. They paid the diggers for the gold
with the cash and re-paid the bank with the gold, receiving a profit of
course. The storekeepers visited the difficult diggings or mining camps
where they supplied tucker and bought gold, and as there were no roads,
only tracks, they had to do all, or most of the journeys on "Shank's
pony." At this time there were many diggings on the beach and terraces
north of the river (there was no Barrytown then). The present road from
Cobden to the beach was but a track, there was a wooden culvert across
the swamp near the cemetery. Dickie as usual one day went up the beach
to the different diggings taking with him a large sum to buy gold. The
gang, who always had spies out, found this out. It was midsummer and the
swamp was pretty dry. The gang got under the culvert and waited Dickie's
return. When he got to the end of the road at the beach he suddenly
thought of some business he had to transact at the North Spit, further
along the beach, instead of going home by the road, went along to the
Spit, transacted his business and went straight on home by way of a
track from the spit along the river through Cobden Island, and the gang
missed him. Their intention was to do away with him and throw his body
into the swamp. Had they succeeded the body might never have been found
and another mystery would have been added to those of the time.
I remember old Gus Hildebrand telling us another yarn connected with the
gang. The butchers used to go to Hokitika to buy cattle brought overland
from Christchurch, and took considerable sums of money to pay for them.
Gus had been down to purchase, and was on his return. It was a bright
moonlight night with a very low tide and he got about 400 yards from the
crown of the beach at the head of the hospital lagoon. The road came
along the beach and around the head of the lagoon at the bathing sheds.
He saw a fire in the flax on the crown of the beach, but paid little
attention until he saw a man come running from the fire down towards the
surf as if to intercept him. Besides most on the Coast had heard of the
gang, and were suspicious of them but as nothing had been proved against
them, they had not come within the clutches of the law. It instantly
flashed into Gus's mind that the man was one of the gang who were
evidently camped in the flax. Gus ran the spurs into his horse and got
away. He reported the matter to the police and some were sent out, but
when they got there the birds had flown. Gus was always sure it was the
gang right enough, and had they managed to stop him he would never have
reached Greymouth.
I remember a skeleton being found at Revell's Camp, years after. Nothing
was known of the individual nor was there the slightest clue as to
identity, and it was always suspected he was one of the gang's numerous
victims.
In 1855 a great gold robbery was committed on the London-Folkestone
railway, and a man named Burgess who was implicated, got 14 years
transportation. I often wondered if he was the New Zealand scoundrel.
One morning the coach going across the head of the lagoon from Preston
Road to the beach was pulled up and a body completely nude was found.
Nothing was ever known of it.
On Sunday's the chief places of recreation were first the gardens at the
corner of Coal Creek and the river. They were very large and good, had
tea kiosks, etc., they were owned by Peter Nelson and were well
patronised. The "old man flood" in '68 took half the land away and
rendered the gardens useless.
The next place was Old Coe's, about three quarters of a mile along the
Omotumotu Road. This was first-rate and convenient, besides being well
kept. There were fine swings on the hill, and the place was well tended
by Mrs Coe and her three daughters. Old Greyites will remember the old
lady. Old Mr Coe predeceased her many years. He had a large birck kiln
near the gardens, and supplied all and sundry with that commodity. The
late Jamie Brimble Trussuth when a lad worked at the kiln for some years.
Old Coe was one of the characters of Greymouth and afforded great
amusement at every public meeting. No matter what the object of the
meeting, he would start a long yarn about bricks. When the trainking
wall for protection against floods was first mooted, he advocated it
being built of bricks. If an astronomical telescope, marine engine,
steam hammer or any other important work of a similar kind were
required, it must be of brick. No public meeting was ever a success
without "Old Coe." The old lady and he were two of the best in
Greymouth. The Grey-Brunner railway cut their property in two and pretty
well killed them financially. They got compensation of course, but I
don't think they got anything like value for their property.
The next recreation ground was laid out by Leathurds Bros. About 1870
they took up the block from Elmer's Lane to Chapel Street, cleared most
of it and started "Town Gardens." These were for many years the place
"par excellence." The Leathurds erected a theatre, gymnasium, swings and
also constructed a lake. On holidays and nights they had great displays
of fireworks, maritime naval battles on the lake, etc. The place was
afterwards purchased by the late Dr. Morice and cut up into building
sections.
The chief industry in the sixties and seventies was of course,
goldmining. The beaches on account of the vast number of water races
which crossed and recrossed one another, was like a great spider web.
These races and the dams connected with them afforded the 6s 8d brigade
large incomes on account of the numberless law suits in connection with
them.
Coal was the next industry in importance. It was brought down from
Brunnerton in large coal boats, manned by three or four men taken along
side the differet vessels and the coal shovelled into the holds. The
boats were taken to Brunnerton by means of horses with an outrider. All
cargo was taken up the river by similar means save that the boats were
smaller.
Many fine young fellows lost their lives from both coal and cargo boats.
Often the river contained large snags, and when coming down the boat
would run on one of these and turn turtle, or on going up the river the
horses would plunge into a hole, and the rider would be thrown and
probably killed, and the boat would drift into the rapids and disaster
would follow.
The next important industry was timber. Watson and Wickes had a timber
yard in Gresson Street, below Arney Street. They afterwards removed to
the corner of Boundary and Herbert Street, (opposite McLean's store).
Watson sold out and the business was for years carried on by the late E.
Wickes who combined timber with the ironmongery trade.
Bathing was even more indulged in than at the present time. The river
bank from the viaduct round to the present railway sheds, was one vast
shingle bed (save an "oasis" or two) along which were numerous large and
deep pools of beautiful clear water and in which old and young
disported, particularly on Sunday mornings.
The spring board lagoon was not even thought of as a bathing resort in
those days. Down near Blaketown bridge was a favourite bathing resort.
The formation of the lagoon was quite different from what it is now.
This reminds me of the bridge. It had been erected about 1865 and had
seen rough wear and tear, and in 1872 or '73 was pretty rotten, and very
unsafe.
A boating party going beneath it, bumped strongly against one of the
piles, the tide at the time running strongly, and taking the boat at a
good rate, the pile snapped and the bridge collapsed. Fortunately none
of the boating party, consisting of Mrs H. Kenrick (wife of the Clerk of
Court and mother of Mr G. Kenrick, S.M.), and others were injured, but
their escape was a miracle. If I remember rightly Mr G. Kenrick and his
brother were of the party. Many years afterwards old Captain Allardyce
amused himself near the bridge by teaching the youngsters to swim. It
was he who taught H. and T. Perkins, Dr. Morice and many others. Very
few old Greyites who do not remember the captain, he was the first
harbour master and pilot.
In the sixties the Custom House did its duty in the real old style, when
a ship got over the bar, away went the customs crew in their boat with
the landing waiter or other officer; they had a special boat and the
crew were engaged permanently and dressed in real man o' war style,
brass buttons and all. In subsequent years a great swimming resort was
old Andy Fowler's, he was for many years a boat man between the North
Spit and Greymouth there were in those days 50 or 60 boatmen plying for
hire between the North Spit and Greymouth and Cobden and Greymouth. Old
Andy was a typical shellback and as much at home, in or on, as out of
the water.
<----< To Be Continued. >----
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Genealogy: Tracing yourself back to better people
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