# Victoria: with a description of its principal cities, Melbourne and Geelong/Chapter 3

CHAPTER III.
"New objects open to his wondering view,  Of various forms and combinations new;  A rocky precipice, a waving wood,  Deep winding dell, and foaming mountain flood.  Each after each, with coy and sweet delay,  Broke on his sight at the young dawn of day."
Paulding.
"And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed.  The mustering squadron, and the clattering car  Went pouring forward with impetuous speed,  And swiftly forming in the ranks of war;  As the deep thunder, peal on peal, afar,  And near, the beat of the alarming drum,  Roused up the soldier ere the morning star."
Byron.
THERE are two routes to Ballaarat—that one via Geelong, by which you have the advantages of the steamers going and returning each day; and, ere this, a still more expeditious mode by the railway. The second route is across the country, and more direct, and as this is the route the troops marched previous to the disturbances of which we are about to write, we take it from a journal kept on the occasion. Returning, therefore, to the first—well-conducted steamers leave the wharf at 11 and ​1 o'clock each day; the distance is forty miles: the first six is down the river, as before described, and passing close along Williamstown through a forest of shipping, you turn off by the lighthouse to the right into the wide reach opening on Corio Bay.
The scenery before spoken of is not very remarkable. The immense plain spreading away to the right, partly wooded along the shore, and to the left the wide expanse of the bay, with the Port Philip Heads in the distance, and a thickly wooded country extending along the bay to Geelong.
In summer the sea is seldom very rough; parties of pleasure are constantly visiting the rival cities, attended by bands of music, which make the trip by no means monotonous. At the head of the bay, close along shore, on a rising ground of a cliff-like form, stretching away, is the very pretty city of Geelong; at first sight it has a finer appearance than its more lordly rival,—this is from its position, not having a long low swamp before it. It is, as it were, more easily seen, with its handsome buildings and pretty streets, running up perpendicularly from the shore, thrown out in bold relief. Underneath the brow, on the beach, are the Custom House, bonded stores, and warehouses; three large and commodious jetties run out into deep water, to prevent inconvenience of low water at fall of the tide. One of these is exclusively for steamers and the disembarkation of passengers; the second for merchant vessels and merchandise; the third, the handsomest ​of the three, for the railway, and along which are the railway stores and buildings, constructed in the English style of massiveness and taste, adding much to the imposing view in the first glance of a stranger.
Though foreign to our purpose to dwell long in description, we must be excused in writing a passing word on Geelong. The activity, energy, and skill of its municipal body, well supported by the liberality of the community, outdo even that of Melbourne; and though it is a city of much more recent date, having been incorporated on the 12th October, 1849, it is fast rising in magnificence as it is in importance; and, from its elevated situation, it is cooler in summer and more healthy. The city is built on a ridge extending along the edge of the bay, the principal streets running up to the summit or crest, but the ascent being very gradual is scarcely perceptible. At the top, on a level of some extent, most of the churches and public buildings have been erected within large enclosures; and a few of the more beautiful forest trees still remaining, combined with the good order and different styles of architecture, the whole has a most pleasing and picturesque appearance. On the opposite side an equal gradual descent leads through a park, reserved as a public pleasure ground, to the valley, through which runs the river Barwin speeding its course to the southward, emptying itself into Bass's Straits, and not, as one would suppose, into the bay. Along the banks of the river, and on either side of the ​park, new and well-built streets appear, forming as pretty a tableau as any city in the world.
Before the Barwon enters the sea, it forms three pretty lakes, known as Lakes Connewarre, six miles from the town, one of the prettiest drives imaginable. A good road conducts you hither by the southern outlet of the city along the crest looking over the beach, passing by the Botanical Gardens, at present in an embryo state. The lakes appear distinct sheets of water, from the wooded promontories hiding the steam which connects them. The land rises most charmingly from the water, and beyond them a belt of high ground, heavily timbered, conceals the sea. At one place the margin gently dips or runs into the lake, and again recedes, forming several pretty bays and picturesque headlands. The land around the lakes, divided into lots from one to two hundred acres, has been purchased by the wealthier inhabitants, and several handsome residences and beautifully laid out grounds adorn their margin. One gentleman in particular, whose hospitality and kindness we shall ever remember with feelings of much gratitude, has chosen one of these sections as his suburban residence, and named it Benore, and Mr. George Thompson's happy home is most prominent amongst the beautiful objects in this neighbourhood; also Constantine, the handsome residence of Dr. Bailie, late Mayor of the city, a gentleman remarkable for his urbanity and hospitality, and for his extreme anxiety to advance the interests of his adopted ​country. There are several other excursions from the city, one in particular to the Vineyards, about three miles distant, beautifully situated on a sloping ridge above the river. Every kind of vine has been imported to these gardens, for the purpose of proving the feasibility of extending their culture through the district—it being generally supposed as most favourable for the growth of the grape in making wine. There are also fine farms and gardens in the neighbourhood, and a trip to the Marrabool Hills
will show the justice of the appellation of the "Blessed Australia." This locality is thus described by an admired author:—
"Never before did the mimosa seem to bear such lovely blossoms, or shed such fragrant flowers; hills and dales were alike covered with them, principally of a yellow colour, presenting to the eye an unusual ​and beautiful appearance; never before did the air seem so pure, clear, and inspiring, as in the delicious valley beneath those hills. The herbage, soft and green and luxuriant, formed an emerald sward. Flowers of all hues enamelled the hills and valleys, buttercups, dandelions, eglantine, daisies, and snowdrops, covered the ground. The trees, mimosa and honeysuckle, whilst here and there some giants of the Eucalyptus order grew in handsome clumps, some in full blossom, others without any, but not the less beautiful; while between them were green open spaces, on which the glorious sun poured down a golden flood of light."
The road to Ballaarat leads through the park, over the river Barwon. A curious pontoon bridge, in heavy swells of the river rather a dangerous affair to cross, has given place to a modern, handsome bridge, not yet finished. Before crossing the river is Barwon-terrace, the handsome house and gardens of Mr. P. Welsh, one of the original settlers in the colony, a gentleman well known for his urbanity and hospitality. Passing over a plain used as a common pasture land, and full of fine cattle, you ascend a rising ground, which commands an extensive and beautiful view of the city and its environs. Some few miles further, you pass some well-kept stations, and some finely cultivated land; thence the road leads you through an open forest country. Hitherto the whole face of it, in fact, the whole road through Ballaarat, was cut up in every direction with ​innumerable deep rutted tracks, diverging in all directions, most difficult, if not impossible, for a stranger to follow; and in wet weather a matter of danger and extreme fatigue to either man or horse. The indefatigable exertions and skill with which the Public Works and Central Road Department are carrying out the wishes of the Government will soon obviate this evil, for, from the returns of last year we find that upwards of two hundred miles of road were cleared, formed, drained, and metalled; one hundred and ten bridges built, or in progress; and forty-two causeways made through creeks and swamps. These latter are, by far, works of the greatest importance, as innumerable accidents annually occurred in crossing the swamps.
The township of Meredith, thirty-two miles from Geelong, and half-way to Ballaarat, is situated in a pretty valley, along which runs a small stream. The town is laid out on the sloping side of a hill, and though some time surveyed and sold when the author passed it in 1854, it boasted of but one house. However, "a change has come o'er the spirit of its dream," and buildings are fast rising. It is now a very favourite locality.
After leaving Meredith, you again enter a forest country, generally of an undulating description; occasionally it has a more open appearance, and you sometimes catch a glimpse of an odd shepherd's hut, and a flock of sheep; then again, the road winds round a deep ravine, through thicker scrub and ​devious paths, leaving which, the land rises, becoming less wooded, as well as less valuable for either pastoral or agricultural purposes; still, the view from the hills is magnificent in the extreme, and the groups of the mimosa, musk, and other shrubs, peculiar to the locality, give a rich and odorous perfume on the breeze, making the weary traveller forget the difficulties and tediousness of the way, stopping entranced to gaze on the enchanting scenery, as he turns towards the sea. From hence you ascend the Buninyong Range, on surmounting which the plain of Ballaarat is open to the view. Sloping a little from the height, a wide plain of stunted forest land of the Eucalyptus genus stretches away for miles before you, the land seeming most barren and wretched. A deep gulley intersects the plain, along the sides of which a view exceeding description is spread out before you—the ground covered with tents, new-formed buildings, hotels, and half-planned streets, all around. The country seems burrowed in every direction; pits of all sorts of depths and shapes yawn in your pathway; thousands of diggers scattered over the plain, with their varied and quaint encampments around. On the site of the town was also the busy work of men, and, like another Babel, the noise and clamour of the mason and carpenter, and other artisans, made the scene one of the most extraordinary ever witnessed.
The other route from Melbourne, direct overland, we copy from the note-book of a brother ​officer who formed one of the expedition to Ballaarat under Sir Robert Nickle:—
"Previous to our leaving Melbourne we were for two days in hourly expectation of receiving the route, and on the morning of the 30th November were ordered to hold ourselves in readiness for the line of march. Information as to the disturbed state of the diggings had been duly transmitted, but the denouement was far more sudden and decisive than at first anticipated. Staff-officers were in constant communication with the heads of the military departments, and every preparation made for the exigency of the occasion. About 4 p.m. the corps in garrison were ordered to parade, and shortly afterwards officials were despatched with orders to march to the township of Flemington, and there halt for more detailed instructions. Both regiments (the 12th and 40th) were drawn up near Flemington Bridge, within a few minutes' walk of each other, and were immediately joined by the officers, men, and guns of H. M. ships Electra and Fantome, then lying in Port Philip Harbour. Major-General Sir Robert Nickle, K.H., Deputy Adjutant-General, Colonel E. Macarthur, and the whole of the staff, were also on the spot, and after a short exchange of salutations the bugle sounded the assembly; the advanced guard was told off, and the whole of this formidable force again in motion.
"No peculiar feature disturbed 'the even tenor of our way;' the march was comparatively a silent ​one, each appearing too much absorbed with his own thoughts to indulge in the license generally extended on these occasions, and which often stimulate the weary and footsore to renewed exertions.
"The road through Flemington is macadamized, and the township consists of several straggling houses, some of a substantial character, and, combined with the farms, paddocks, &c., presents an appearance much after the style of the villages in the agricultural districts of England. Two miles further on, we arrived at Essendon, a most flourishing town, with two good inns. We then proceeded about seven miles over an excellent road, which brought us Keilor, a small township, through which is immense traffic. No fewer than twelve four-horse coaches here change horses daily—three running to Ballaarat, and three to Castlemaine, both places at a distance bordering on eighty miles from Melbourne, and generally accomplished in nine or ten hours,—a rate of travelling unusually great, considering the wretched state of the roads over which a considerable portion of the journey is performed.
"The country so far is very open, and consists mostly of immense farms. The soil is of a light description, but is undergoing considerable improvement. Keilor is situated in a deep hollow on the salt-water river which flows all the year round, and serves to remove the dearth in the summer season that otherwise would desolate this part of the country. An admirable suspension bridge has ​been erected, thus preventing the frequent inundations in the winter season, at all times dangerous, and in many instances attended with great loss of life. We encamped in a paddock adjoining the principal inn, and, as the march was to be continued at an early hour the following morning, no tents were erected. The more fortunate sheltered themselves in the hotel and outhouses, whilst others found a resting-place under the drays, or contented themselves with the open air. For my own part, I had, as I thought, comfortably ensconced myself under the timber of a gun-carriage, when I was disturbed from my position by some half-dozen sailors, who rather unceremoniously broke in upon me. It appeared I was occupying the quarters intended for their officers, and, notwithstanding my expostulations and entreaties, I was compelled to beat a retreat, or otherwise obtain permission from their "lifftenant." I had a good opportunity of judging the style of men I had to deal with, and I must say, their masculine, determined, and formidable appearance, fully realized my beau ideal of a British tar.
"Immediately after daybreak the following morning the camp was all hurry and bustle,—a hastily prepared breakfast, and we were again on the line of march. We journeyed on until we came to the junction of the Castlemaine and Ballaarat roads, where we halted for a few minutes, and then entered upon Keilor Plains. Pursuing our weary course over a flat, bare tract of country, exposed to the scorching rays of a ​powerful sun, each armed cap-à-pie; the tremendous heat of the earth over which we trod, and the parching power of a hot wind, soon manifested itself throughout the whole body. Many fell down through exhaustion, and though others manfully struggled on for a few miles, the evident fatigue which had overtaken them rendered it expedient to impress every available cart or bullock dray we encountered, in order that the knapsacks might be carried, and for the better accommodation of the increasing number of the tired and weary.
"It was 2 o'clock ere we reached Rocky Bank, a distance of not more than nine miles; but, from the cheerless, dull monotony of the scenery, I was more fatigued than I have felt in marching double the distance. Tremendous cracks in the roads rendered it quite a matter of labour to get the guns, carts, and drays over. The herbage was all burnt, parched, and withered, and the country appeared but as a boundless waste. We halted for a short time on the borders of a beautiful creek, near to which is the posting house for coaches running to Ballaarat. In the hotel, a sour, squashy, disagreeable drink, yclept colonial beer, is retailed at one shilling the quart; ale or porter, three shillings a bottle; and soi disant wines and spirits at one shilling per nobbler. Notwithstanding the exorbitant prices and questionable quality of the articles, they were in great request, and most rapidly consumed by the thirsty applicants with which the house was ​continually besieged; and although every precaution was observed to prevent the men imbibing more than was sufficient for refreshment, the extremely droughty season caused several to elude the vigilant measures adopted, little aware of the punishment they were hoarding up for such delinquency. Another hour, and they became the victims to the most excruciating pain and suffering. A considerable number had but recently arrived in the colony, and were not, therefore, properly colonized to immoderate draughts of 'colonial.' In every form of internal bodily commotion did this deleterious compound operate; and the contortionist might have derived many an instructive lesson for his guidance, and the caricaturist found ample scope for the exercise of his pencil, in the strangely distorted countenances their racking pains produced. We remained about an hour, and, thanks to our commissary department (which, I can assure you, is an excellent travelling companion), I partook of some good substantial refreshment, feeling quite fresh, and equal to a continuation of the march.
"The country on leaving Rocky Bank is somewhat prettier, but not picturesque; in every way adapted for grazing purposes, and would, no doubt, be of considerable agricultural importance if under a proper system of irrigation. We continued our march for about eight miles farther, without any incident occurring worth recording. We then passed through Melton, a beautiful quiet village. Adjacent are ​several squatting stations, and we passed through the run of Messrs. Gray and Nimmo, who rent it from Clark, the wealthy land-owner whose princely possessions serve as landmarks to the great city of Melbourne, even in these distant localities.
"The scenery now opened to our view was of the most pleasing description—park-like in character, and possessed of charms varied and attractive; here and there are seen fine thickly timbered forests, agreeably relieved by green, open plains, with small belts of trees, whose umbrageous branches offer protection to the shepherd in his pastoral occupations, and a safe shelter from the scorching rays of a summer's sun, as well as from the penetrating wet of an Australian shower, for it may truly be said of the colony in general, that 'it never rains but it pours.'
"With but little variation, the country presents the same appearance for several miles; it afterwards becomes more undulating; sometimes an extensive gentle slope shows itself, on which is simply required the erection of a suitable mansion to render it a fitting residence for the noblest of our aristocracy, nature having done almost everything necessary in the formation and arrangement of parks and pleasure-grounds.
"As we temporarily halted on one of these eminences, I could not but feel struck at the strange contrast with our warlike array, and the peaceful character of everything around. Not a human being was to be seen from whom any information could ​be gleaned, as to who were the fortunate occupiers of those vast and beautiful localities, although numerous flocks of sheep and herds of cattle plainly indicated their owners could not be far distant.
"The sun was shining in all his golden splendour as we now traversed a much more bush-like country, leading us at length on a tolerably good road, which ultimately brought us to Bacchus Marsh. We halted in the Government Paddock, having completed a distance of thirty-two miles. The men appeared much fatigued, and my own pedestrian powers were fairly put to the test. A considerable portion of our route was over bad or indifferent roads, and a scorching sun had lent his powerful rays to add to our fatigue. Bacchus Marsh appears quite an agricultural district, for which it seems adapted, being well supplied with water, and the soil of a superior quality to what we had in many instances passed It boasts of two excellent hotels, although apparently but thinly populated.
"News here reached us of the rioters having been entirely routed by the detachment of military stationed at Ballaarat, with a very exaggerated account of the loss of life; but the news of the victory obtained by the soldiers and police being subsequently confirmed, it was determined to halt the following day, which was Sunday.
"It was my tour of duty, and I turned out in the evening for the purpose of visiting the guard, &c., when I was particularly impressed with the beauty ​of the scene before me. The moon was shining in all her brightness, and as the effulgence of her rays beamed on the piled arms of the sleeping soldiers, who lay scattered on the ground snugly ensconced in a blanket rug or loose coat, formed a picture alike grand and imposing; the night was clear and serene, and the surrounding country appeared for miles illumined with her silvery rays; indeed, it might have been said, with Shakspeare—
" 'It is but the daylight sick;  It looks a little paler; 'tis a day  Such as the day is when the sun is hid.'
I stood for a moment admiring the sublimity of the scene before me, when I was startled with a loud, crackling noise. I turned my head in the direction from whence it proceeded, when I saw that one of the fires used by the men in preparing their evening meal had ascended to the hollowness of the tree, and the flames were rising, as it were, from the very top. I had but time to alarm and rouse the soldiers sleeping around it, when again the crackling noise was repeated—a slight totter—a noise still louder—a tremendous crash, and this aged monarch of the Australian forest lay scattered on the earth in a thousand blazing embers, fortunately without injuring the sleepers.
"We commenced our march at 2 o'clock the next morning, which was somewhat hazy. We passed through a thickly-wooded district many miles in extent, but it was too early and dark to notice ​thing particular, with the exception of a few opossums, which we now and then disturbed in their nocturnal feasts and gambols.
"As day began to dawn, the morning cleared up, and, ere the sun had shown himself, birds might be heard in every direction uttering their matins, but in sounds very different to the sweet melody of the feathered minstrels of our native land. Cockatoos might be discerned in vast flocks, winging their flight to some other territory; whilst parroquets, with a more careless indifference, seemed almost as tame at our approach as the "common house-sparrow. The laughing jackass, with his peculiar notes, laughed, and joined in chorus with his feathered companions, but seldom showed himself. Magpies and parrots were also very cautious, and though flying about in great numbers, always preserved a respectable distance. It was here that I first saw the Australian redbreast, a small but beautifully, shaped bird, with a breast of the brightest scarlet. The scenery upon the whole was pleasing; the sweet-scented mimosa and native cherry (growing with the stone of the fruit outside) agreeably relieved the dulness of the tall and shadeless gum-tree.
"The country gradually became more open, until it again assumed an agricultural appearance, displaying well-fenced fields, with corn and grass in abundance, and well stocked with oxen and horses. Our march extended over about eighteen miles, which we finished about noon, having arrived at ​Ballan, an agricultural village, containing some large and good inns, which derive their principal support from the immense traffic passing through to the diggings.
"At 1 A.M. the following day we were again on the road, and passed over an undulating country, crossing several creeks, until we entered a forest, composed principally of the Eucalypti, the monotonous gloom of which is directly at variance with the variegated scenery of the woodland districts in England.
"This was our last day's march, extending over twenty-four miles. As we approached the 'scene of action,' the country was exceedingly barren, and had nothing whatever inviting about it. Upon its being rumoured that we were within a short distance of Ballaarat, it was astonishing to see the wonderful stimulating power it had upon the flagging spirits of the men. They seemed inspired with new vigour, and had it not been for their sun-burnt countenances, and soiled and dirty equipments, appeared as fresh as the evening we set out. Thousands of spectators, principally diggers, came to witness our entry through the township, but not a sound or murmur escaped, expressive either of disloyalty or disaffection. The town consists of a long, straggling street, with stores, shops, and cafes and restaurants, to suit all countries. It is quite amusing to enter ​one of these stores, which are truly a verification of the old adage, 'anything from a needle to an anchor.' Groceries and cutlery, drapery and diggers' implements, boots, clothing, fire-arms, and wheelbarrows, may here be had, together with innumerable other things in endless variety.
" We arrived at the camp about 1 P.M., and there learned that a loss of life had indeed taken place, but nothing nearly so great as we had anticipated, the numbers standing—
"12th Regiment, 1 officer wounded. " 2 men killed. " 8 men wounded.
 40th Regiment, 1 officer dangerously wounded.
" 3 men killed.
"14 men wounded."