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1900
1 December 1900
Reminiscences of the Mudgee and Meroo Districts.
By J.W.P.
Early in the fifties the writer, with his parents, brothers, and sister arrived in Sydney in the good ship John Melhuish, from the old mother country, whose loved remembrances of long-past schoolboy days, of green hawthorn hedges and lanes, where on half-holidays, we used to roam, bird-nesting, catching butterflies, and sometimes indulging in a little bit of schoolboy mischief, such as tying a tin pot to a dog's tail, and other mischievous tricks at which I am pleased to say our goody goody boys of the present up-to-date nineteenth century would be shocked. Never mind, these memories still dwell in my heart - "Happy days departed, never to return." But to continue. After a year or two, of office life in Sydney, I got tired of the daily routine and having been brought up among my relations, all of whom were, and still are, largely connected with high-class cattle breeding and farming on the modern scale of the present day, I determined to gain a little experience of Australian bush life. So after a loving parting with those left behind, I booked my passage in Her Majesty's Royal Mail coach-leaving Sydney twice a week. Heaven save the mark! Instead of a grand four-horse coach emblazoned with the Royal Arms, I found I had to take a four days' trip in a vehicle something like a baker's or butcher's cart, only not covered in, with an iron bar round the seat which at every jerk made one feel inclined to indulge in a little Queen's English, not to be found in any current dictionary, nor even in a Greek lexicon. Fancy a four days' trip in what can be called nothing less than a foretaste of purgatory. Fare £7, half-a-crown for each meal and bed, if it can be so called. About a dozen mattresses spread on the floor, and a blanket or two (sheets in those days were luxuries unknown.) Well, after reaching Mudgee with a very sore back from the chafing of her Majesty's iron bar of the Royal mail coach, I remained in various occupations, always gaining experience and some insight into the various phases of bush life, till at last I got a commission to buy gold. Mr. Oliver, then manager of the Bank of New South Wales, furnished the cash and with other commissions I started. I daresay many old Maitland and oven Dungog residents will remember some of the old places in which we often met on the Meroo and adjoining-creeks, Well I generally made my way from Mudgee via Grattai, where I once mot his Lordship Bishop Barker and his wife, who put up at the pub, then kept by Sam James, an old East Maitland resident, and, would you believe, his, Lordship actually 'shouted' for all hands; I suppose the more polite way would be to say treated. Then on to the head of the Meroo, where a jolly old fellow named Joo Fettell kept a Store, and I half think from the jolly appearance of the diggers about, there was not far off a little keg of, well, we'll call it mineral water. Another name might be more suitable. The good old fellow, of course, for a consideration found grub for self and horse — I suppose I should say light refreshments or afternoon tea. After completing my business and relieving him of any gold he had to part with, I then wended my way through the various tracks and bonds of the river, picking up parcels of gold from one digger's camp and another till I reached Maitland Bar where I received a hearty reception for the night from a dear old, family named, Holmes. Thence my route lay across a rugged track (where often you would have to dismount and lead your nag) on to Louisa Crook, now Hargraves — where the 112lb nugget was found, and where hundreds, have lost fortunes in trying to find its duplicate. Here there is or was a church and gold commissioner's headquarters. De Cloete was the head, afterwards appointed P.M. in Sydney. A grand fellow, hospitable, and in a game of cards and sometimes chess, I mostly had to play second fiddle. After completing my business, buying more gold, etc., I then crossed more rugged tracks and ranges till I reached Richardson's Point, now Windeyer, where an old Paterson friend, James Keppie, was working a large, pug mill, and I believe making a good thing of it. I sometime afterwards shared in a trip with him to Maitland, via Cooyal and the Goulburn River, a rough trip it was too. The settlers where we camped were nearly all Scotch, and very hospitable, the only bother was you came in for a meal, the interminable long grace, all in Gaelic, and the dinner all the time just getting cold. From Windeyer I made my way to Avisford, whence the gold escort started twice a week for Sydney. Here I disgorged my saddle bags to Commissioner T. Digby Miller, who with his sub-officer, Whitting dale Johnson, since transferred as S.M. to Sydney, and W. T. Platt, were most deservedly popular. I shall never forget the clever way in which Mr. Johnson took the part of Sairoy Camp in an entertainment to raise funds towards building a hospital in Mudgee. It was held in the large billiard-room of Rossiter's Hotel, then the leading hotel in Mudgee, and where the "table d'hote," under Mr. Rossiter's supervision was unsurpassed by any hotel in Sydney, - would put Maitland altogether in the shade.
The room was simply crowded, and we so laughed that one or two of the 16 or 20 stoners had to be cautioned lest they should burst their boilers. The diggers often have the reputation of being rough and uncouth. No such thing. I have often had to chum in with them; you are always welcome - and as for hospitality they have it to a fault. Often I have met highly-cultured, educated men, who in a university exam, would put this child quite in the shade, but with whom it was a pleasure to spend an evening, oven under a roof, Sunday even is reverenced by total abstaining from work, except perhaps washing clothes, a few clothes, and when a minister does make an appearance he is welcomed. I well remember attending service at Merrindee, when a Mr. Proctor officiated. It was held in the open-air, under a group of the eucalyptus, and I could not help thinking of the old Goths who used to worship in the old forests, and where originated the Gothic style of our present, church architecture. It was a solemn service, I even remember the text - "Put thy trust in God, and be doing good." If we could only carry out those words of the Royal Psalmist we could cheerfully say in the dying words of Thackeray's Clive Newcome when the last call comes - "Ad suin.1
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1934
26 July 1934
GONE ARE THE DAYS
THE PASSING OF THE STAGE COACH
Mudgee's Prancing Teams
IN the spacious days of old, prancing teams of horses and heavily-laden coaches were sights which gladdened the hearts of Mudgee's progressive citizens, and they had no visions of the smellful petrol age, before which the noble steed would almost vanish, to be supplanted by the buzzing contraptions which whizz over the roads in a cloud of dust.
A glance at old files of the "Western Post," dated 1889, revives memories of the old coaching days. Charlie Phillott, one of the crack whips of half a century ago, piloted a line of coaches from Mudgee to Gunnedah, via Gulgong, Denison Town and Mullalley Camp, and usually delivered his passengers right on time.
And the late lamented "Dad" Millett, one of the best known hosts in the west and proprietor of the Club House Hotel, notified the world at large that his livery stables were right up to date. Cobb and Co.'s famous line of coaches had their headquarters at "Dads," and great was the bustle when the mails rolled in.
Naturally the demand for coach smiths was keen, and many of the finest craftmen in the land plied their trade at local establishments Advertisements told of the merits of the work turned out at Gellatley's in Church street while at James Wilkins Great Western factory in Market street fires glow ed and the anvil rang. Edward Scifleet, although less robust than in those far off days, is still amongst us after almost a lifetime spent at the forge in Lewis street.
Yes, those were the days2
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8 November 1934
COBB'S COACHES
TRAVEL IN THE OLD DAYS
Some Identities of the Past
IN the following article well known Mudgee "old-timer" gives his reminiscences of between 50 and 60 years ago, when the Cobb and Co. coaches were a familiar sight in this district. In those days the railway only went as far as Wallerawang, with which Mudgee was connected by the big coaches, some of which held as many as 25 passengers. These conveyances were drawn by five or six horses, and there are few alive to-day who have had the experience of rumbling down the road to 'Wang to the thundering of hoofs and the crack of the whip.
In those days the Sydney road was a veritable beehive of coaches, vans and teams of never less than 10 horses. Bi-weekly and tri-weekly vans ran to 'Wang, while Cobb and Co.'s coaches ran daily.
Over the railway gates was Ewen Stoddart's hotel, where there was a chaffcutting works. Teams used to camp there and get their chaff. Howes were shod and broken shafts or spokes put in by Mr. Wolley, who had a smithy and wheelwright's shop near the hotel. Opposite was Parson's shoeing forge, which was always busy. A few hundred yards farther on was the brickyard settlement, where the bricks for most of Mudgee's buildings were made. Farther on still was Mrs. Murray's hotel - now demolished. On the paddock opposite to Mrs. Murray and her sons, were held race meetings on all holidays. Big crowds were features of that faraway time.
At the seven-mile peg Jim Ward kept a hotel; before Ward, Billy Croome kept it. At present there is no sign of the hotel, a few pepper trees marking the spot where it stood. It was Jim Ward who struck good gold on Horse Flat, leading up to a mild rush. This was G. Caddel's property. Caddel sold four men blocks right through the paddock. Nearly all the diggers made small fortunes.
First change for Cobb and Co. was at Pauling's hotel, with the large Cobb's stable opposite, where about 20 horses were looked after. Farther on the Gulf diggings were being worked, and some good gold was won. Where Mr. Pike lives now, was a wine and mixed groceries' shop. Then there was the toll bar at the foot of Stony Pinch.
DANGEROUS STONY PINCH
Part of the residence still remains. A man and his daughters collected the tolls. Straight over the pinch the old road ran, bar a slight curve on the Mudgee side. Many serious and fatal accidents occurred on the pinch, which was a continual nightmare to Cobb's drivers and teamsters.
Over the pinch on the left-hand side of the river was a Mr. Bayliss' property, which was sold to a gold mining syndicate, with a Mr. Clark as manager. An up-to-date plant was fixed up, with tramways to the puddling machine. Shafts were sunk everywhere, the trucks taking the hillside mullock as it was dug up. They got no gold, however. About £30,000 went west. Two young Englishmen were the owners. They came up from Sydney, saw it for the first time and shut it down. About 60 men were put off. At Cudgegong was another change for Cobb and Co. There were two hotels at this centre. J. Albert kept one, and King Wilkins the other. Abel Wilkins had a blacksmith shop, a butchery and a few grocery shops. Altogether Cudgegong was a lively village.
SOME OF THE DRIVERS
Among the many good old names that drove on this road for Cobb and Co. were D. Doyle, J. Barry, Bissell, Joe Jenkins, Pat Toohey, Sid Brown, Tom Sheridan and John Box. The private owners of the tri-weekly vans drove their own vehicles. They were T. Tarrant, J. Janes, C. Richards, G. Quinsey and John Mawbey. Among the teamster drivers were W. Marsh and his sons, J. Dorrington (for Joe Arnold), Sid Norris (for T. Cheshire) and Sam Clark, G. Crossing had a driver for his store only. Patman also drove his town team. Dave Brown drove for T. Cheshire3
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15 November 1934
MORE ABOUT COBB AND CO.
DAYS OF BUSHRANGERS
Veteran's Recollections
IN a recent issue of the 'Guardian' a Mudgee veteran told us of the days when the Cobb and Co. coaches thundered throughout the district. In the article which follows he gives us some more of his recollections.
Cobb and Co.'s stables and booking office, 60 years ago, were at the Royal Hotel, kept by Simeon Moses, a Jew. The stables still stand at the back of the hotel. This was a busy centre at that period. Lane's butchery, the Commercial Bank, G. Davidson, solicitor, and Hardwick and Shelton, drapers, were all in the one row of buildings. Bishop, the saddler, Barnes, the chemist, and Dickson and Sons, merchants, were opposite.
BUSHRANGERS
After the coaches left Cudgegong they came to Aaron's Pass, where a coach was bailed up by bushrangers. The next stage was Running Stream, where the Leighton family resided. A novelty at that time, incidentally, was a chaff cutter worked with water. The next changing place for Cobb's horses and men was at Cunningham's Creek Hotel, kept by T. Eames. The 'Wang drivers took the reins from the Mudgee men there. The journey from there to 'Wang was mostly made in the dark.
The coach then went through to Ilford, stopping on the way at two hotels, one kept by a man named Moore and the other by one named Guthrie. Passengers were picked up and let down at those hotels. Then the coaches went to Cherry Tree Hill, half-way up which was a fine spring of water, which was cold all the year round. On the coaches rumbled to Round Swamp, where another change of horses was made. The Barnaby family were old identities of that locality. Abe Freestone kept a hotel further on.
Mail and parcels were picked up at Capertee, which village consisted then mainly of the hotel, store and post office, kept by Mr. Shervey. Capertee was then a favorite camping place for teamsters.
From Capertee to Crown Ridge and from Crown Ridge to Ben Bullen was the itinerary of the coaches. The last change of horses was made at Ben Bullen. 'Wang was at last reached at midnight. Cobb and Co's men, it might be mentioned, were always up to time4
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References