BLACK THURSDAY. ---The great Bush Fire of Victoria
By
William Howitt
(The first part appeared in Cassell’s
Illustrated Family Paper, Vol. 1. No.6. London, Saturday, February 4, 1854.
Other parts followed in subsequent issues.)
BLACK THURSDAY is one of the most
remarkable days in the annals of Australia. It is a day as frequently
referred to by the people in this colony as that of the Revolution of 1688
in England, of the first Revolution in France, or of the establishment of
Independence in the United States of America. Great political events have,
as yet, had a rare recurrence in this colony; national ones are but two-the
discovery of gold and the occurrence of the Great Bush Fire, par excellence,
of Thursday the 6th of February, 1851. That is a day memorable in the
popular mind for its terrible and unexampled devastation, and which will no
doubt continue to remain so for long years to come.
Bush-fires are of almost daily occurrence
in one part or another of the Australian colonies, during the summer. They
arise from various causes, and are, in many instances, originated
purposefully, both by natives and colonists, from ideas of utility. The long
dry grass of the wild country is extremely ignitable, and once kindled, the
fire runs along it with startling rapidity. The fire of the grass is soon
communicated to the scrub, as it is called, that is, the shrubs and
underwood of the forest. These, in the long droughts and heats of summer,
are as ignitable as the grass, and burn with equal rapidity, and a much
intenser heat. These again communicate the fire to the bark, and the lower
branches of the trees, especially to the Mimosa genus, which forms a medium
between the shrubs and tall trees,-and from them the loftiest trees receive
sparks and tongues of flame which burst into instant blaze, and rush along
from tree-top to tree-top with lightning rapidity, especially if there be
any wind. The fire, too, runs up the bark, especially the stringy bark, and
the loose, dry, hanging bark of the red and white gums, which is so much
like touch-paper.
Once on fire, the forest blazes furiously,
and the wide-spread conflagration runs along with the speed of lightning
and. the terrible roar of thunder. The leaves of the Eucalypti, the
evergreen gum trees-the trees constituting ninety-nine; hundredths of the
forest trees of all Australia-burn vividly and intensely even in their
greenest state, being full of gum-resin; it may, therefore, be imagined with
what instantaneous quickness they catch fire in their dry state in the heart
of summer, when you may crumble them to powder between your fingers.
Nothing, therefore, is more common than to see, wherever you go, in all
parts of the country, immense tracts of the native forest through which
these bush-fires have raged. The whole of the ground is burnt black. The
shrubs are totally consumed, or where the fire has only partially or faintly
passed, from the absence of grass, and the greenness of the underwood, the
shrubs stand with their leaves scorched to a fine ruddy brown, exactly the
colour of the oak leaves which adhere to young trees in England in winter.
most commonly the trees themselves are scorched to the top in places where
the fire has run up their loose-hanging shreds of dry bark. The short timber
incumbering the ground of the forest is burnt to ashes or charred to
blackness, and thousands of the trunks of trees stand black and branchless
columns, the melancholy monuments of the conflagration. Where the fire,
however, has been past some time, the grass is again springing green as the
emerald; the shrubs are again protruding fresh stems from the earth; and the
trees as if invigorated by the fire, are putting out luxuriant shoots and
leaves all the way up their trunks. In fact, the
Mimosa tribe, the wattles, especially rejoice in a scorching; and when these
bush-fires destroy the Eucalyptic trees, they shoot up and succeed them. It
is customary, therefore, in planting seeds of the Wattles, to plunge them
into boiling water, or to scorch them before putting them into the earth.
The causes of these bush-fires every
summer are sufficiently patent to observation. Both natives and colonists,
who camp out in the bush, make fires, and leave them burning when they go
away. These fires are generally made against the standing, or the fallen
trunk of a tree, and you may see scores of these fires, as you travel
through the forest, still burning. The trunks of trees will indeed burn for
weeks. There wants, therefore, in the summer only a little wind to blow the
sparks or flames of these fires into the dry grass, and a bush-fire is
inevitable. I have myself seen bullock drivers make a fire at noon to cook
their dinners as they halted on the road, go away and leave it burning, and
in less than half an hour afterwards it has caught the grass, and has spread
over an inconceivable extent of the forest. In a few hours such a fire with
a breeze will have raged through miles of forest; and will not stop till its
progress is averted by a river, a road, or a clear valley destitute of long
grass. You see, as you travel on, constant evidences of these fires sweeping
along the mountains to the very tops, clearing everything but the largest
and most solid trees before them.
Besides these accidental causes, now
incalculably increased by the tens of thousands of diggers who are
traversing the country in all directions, and who make fires at every
halting-place, the natives set fire to the bush to drive out the game, which
they stand prepared to attack in its flight; and also to destroy the long
dry grass, and make it give place to young sweet grass, on which the
kangaroos and other game will feed more luxuriantly. They are in the habit,
too, of burning the forest to cut off the pursuit, or to drive before them
another and hostile tribe.
The squatters fire the forest on the
same principle as the natives in one respect: that is, to destroy the coarse
grass and obtain young, fresh pasture. They also burn up their stubble on
some generally concerted day, which very often communicating its flame, in
many different localities, to the forest, produces extensive and disastrous
bush-fires. For the negligence of leaving these fires burning in the bush,
there is a legal penalty, but nobody ever regards it, because I do not
believe it is ever inflicted.
All these fires possess, more or less, a
certain magnificence. The rush and roar of the flames, their wide front
marching rapidly on like the front of a pursuing army, clothed in the fire
of musketry. The volumes of smoke rolling on before the conflagration, the
vivid furnace-like blaze careering through the scrub, or leaping along the
tops of the trees; the flying of cattle, of horses, of troops of kangaroos,
and other wild animals from its wrath. Whole hosts of birds with wild cries
rushing headlong before it, or wheeling around after it, in anxiety for
their young; or in hope of the feast which the myriads of opossums,
bandicoots, kangaroos, rats, flying squirrels, serpents, and other
inhabitants of the forest are sure to present, being roasted alive in their
retreats—the hollow trees which abound everywhere, or in the long grass or
scrub. But the very greatest of fires sinks into insignificance before the
ever-memorable fire of Black Thursday-so called from the horror and effects
of that day.
Till I came to investigate for myself
the causes of this immense conflagration which involved a vast portion of
the colony in a single day I was led to believe that these causes were
mysterious. I was told of its breaking out in the mountains at the head of
the Plenty, and careering down to Geelong, a distance of 80 miles, at the
rate of a horse at full gallop. That it raced at that, and even greater
speed, there is no doubt. But there is no mystery whatever as to its origin,
as will be seen from the following facts, collected from the newspapers of
that date. Nor did it break out in one particular quarter, but burst to life
from one universally stimulating cause, acting on hosts of fires in
different parts of the country, some of which, as will be seen, had been
burning for weeks and even months past. We shall find it stated that,
besides the incidental fires left burning by travellers, dray-men, and
shepherds, there had been bush fires caused by the burning of stubble, and
even, in one or more cases, there were not only those fires purposely
excited by the squatters to destroy the withered grass, but the bush had
been fired by them in other instances from mere wantonness, if not, still
worse, for the love of mischief. Shepherds had seen fires burning on the
hills in different places, as they stated in evidence, for months.
All these fires, therefore, were ready
to receive that great and universal stimulant, which came. Consumed with
drought as is the Australian bush during the summer months of all ordinary
years, the country was this year visited with an extraordinary and
intense and long-continued drought. The grass was dried up to a state of
tinder. The leaves of the trees were so dry that they ought, as I have
observed, be powdered in the hand. The water courses were in many cases
completely exhausted, and in all reduced very low. Water-holes and creeks,
which had never been known before, since the white man came into the colony,
to fail, were now hollows parched and cracked with heat. W e find complaints
sent to the newspapers from the squatters in different parts, complaining
that if the drought continued the flocks and herds would perish together. We
hear, indeed, of whole flocks of sheep and vast numbers of cattle actually
dying of thirst and starvation.
In this state of things, came one of those
hot winds from the north which sweep over the whole country like a typhoon,
burning and stifling you in their course, like the breath of a furnace.
These winds bear directly on the surface of the earth, rushing on with
torrid violence, and scooping up and bearing with them clouds of dust and
fine sand, so dense that you cannot see your hand before you. They howl
round the houses like the most stormy nights of our December, sending fine
dust through every crevice of door and window, and covering everything in
the rooms. Such inflictions, which I have known to occur in Melbourne every
few days, would drive our ladies and housemaids mad; but here they are
become so habituated to them, as eels to skinning, that when the wind
is over, they coolly wipe up the dust, shake out their carpets, curtains,
and counterpanes, and care no more about it.
But it is only when they are over that they
can do anything coolly;
for the heat is, during their prevalence,
perfectly prostrating. These winds, known in Sydney as "Brickfielders," are
still more terrible, owing to the greater heat of the climate and the more
sandy nature of the soil. During their continuance the thermometer will
rise, not to 110 degrees, as colonial writers admit, but to 140 degrees. The
foliage of the forest shrivels up before the fiery blast, and corn crops are
sometimes actually reduced to cinder in the ear.
It was after the long, severe drought
and the tinder condition of the grass and foliage in the summer of 1850-1,
which we have just spoken of, that one of these hot winds came. The whole
country lay, as it were, prepared for ignition-ready for the match, and
there it was! The various fires on the mountains and in the bush received
the kindling impulse-the flames shot forward with the wind, and the whole
country was speedily one huge conflagration! Lighted at s0 many points, the
forest blazed and roared in a manner so startling and terrible, that the
population, scattered thinly through the bush, were struck with
consternation. Some rushed with green boughs, as in ordinary bushfires, to
beat out the flames, but in most cases without success, The terrible element
came roaring forward, presenting an awful front of miles in extent, which
devoured the forest trees as so many reeds, and sent before it clouds of
smoke which darkened the atmosphere, and a heat consuming as the breath of a
furnace heated to whiteness.
.
Soon the people had to flee before the
remorseless enemy in all directions, and in every quarter, even over an
extent of many hundreds of square miles. The women and children fled from
their blazing huts; the shepherds left their flocks to perish, unable to
drive them to any conceivable place of refuge. Cattle in vast herds were
seen careering madly before the fires, which not only leaped from tree to
tree like lightning, but travelled at once with its velocity and deadliness.
Troops of horses, wild from the bush, with flying tails and manes, and
neighing wildly, galloped across the ground with the fury of despair. Flocks
of kangaroos, and of smaller animals, leaped desperately along, to escape
the horrible conflagration, and hosts of birds swept blindly on, many
falling suffocated headlong into the flames, and the rest raising the most
lamentable cries. Horsemen, seeing the raging sea of fire advancing with
whirlwind speed from alm0st every quarter, galloped madly and for scores of
miles, till their horses fell under them. Drovers conducting mobs of cattle
and horses, as they arc called, by turns to market, were compelled to leave
them to shift for themselves, and fled away at the highest speed of their
horses for their own lives. The destruction, not only of farms, crops,
shepherds' huts, cattle, horses, and sheep, was immense, but the destruction
of the wild creatures of the woods, which were roasted alive in their holes
and haunts, was something fearful to contemplate, People, as it will be
seen, who rushed into water-holes and creeks- happy were they who had any
near them- and sunk themselves to the very mouths in them, were yet in some
instances so scorched and broiled as to perish from the
effects.
In one day, a whole country of 300 miles in
extent, and at least 150 in breadth, was reduced to a desert. It was one
blackened and burning waste. The horses were consumed; the cattle destroyed
or dispersed; the birds silenced; the wild creatures burnt to ashes. At
night, the fumes of the foliage had exhausted their material of support, but
huge trunks of trees, prostrate or erect, burnt with a ruby red, or an
intense whiteness- columns of solid fire in the midst of the blackness of
darkness-over an extent of country that was frightful from its solitude and
desolation.
In Melbourne, I have heard those who
experienced it say, that the suffocating heat was something inconceivable.
The very atmosphere seemed aflame. Few people were to be seen out of doors,
except such as were hastening desperately to the public-houses, and
coffee-shops for beer or lemonade and the cooling drinks. These were seen,
hanging their tongues out of their mouths like dogs, as their owners brought
them out to the river to save their lives; while far out at sea, there were
driven clouds of dust and ashes, which covered the decks of ships like snow,
and obscured the midday sun. A friend of ours, on his way to England at that
memorable time, saw at night the radiance of the great burning at the
distance of ninety miles.
After this general statement, we cannot
give a more important idea of this terrible day, than that which is conveyed
in the single statement of facts, which was furnished, to the papers at the
time, and which, by the courtesy of the able editor of the Argus, we were
enabled to extract from its files of that period.
This famous fire took place on Thursday,
February 6th, 1851, and the first brief announcement of it occurs in that
paper of the 7th, the next day :-
PORTLAND. A gentleman resident in the
Portland Bay District, thus writes to a friend in Melbourne: “The bush is on
fire in all directions. The creeks and water-holes in this district were
never known by white men to be so low. If this weather continues the stock
will die off fast. Mr. Guy, late of the firm of Guy and Marr, had his housestead burned to the ground, along with 1,400 sheep. Mr. Niel Black has
lost 3,500 sheep, destroyed by fire; and now I am writing, you cannot see
3oo yards, so dense is the smoke. I am in constant dread 0f that destroying
element reaching the houses. The station is literally surrounded by flames."
Startling as this news was, however, it
gave no idea of the vast and general nature 0f the calamity. No one could
possibly imagine it. That the country was actually one blaze for thousands
of square miles, that the conflagration extended from the Broken River in
one direction, and the Barrabool Hills in another, to Geelong, Cape Otway
and Portland, a distance, in a direct line, as we have stated, of 300 miles
in one direction, and of, at least, half that distance in the other. It
extended eastward to the Dandenong Hills, to Western Port, and right away
into Gippsland.
Who could suppose that over all this vast
expanse this annihilating incandescence had passed in one day?
The drought and destruction of cattle had
extended much further. These were quite as severe beyond the Murray as on
the Port Phillip Hill. A gentleman writing from Edward River before the
outbreak of the fire, said:- “The weather has, for some days, been
oppressively hot. Crab holes, water-h0les, and even creeks with slight
exceptions, are dried up. The extensive runs on the Bilebong and Yanko, have
been entirely abandoned, after great numbers or sheep had perished. The
flocks have been driven away, in some instances to great distances, to
obtain the necessary supplies of water; and even where this is found, food
is exceedingly scarce, and scarcely more than will maintain the flocks in
mere existence. The prospect, in many districts, from the l0ng drought,
before the settlers, is most dreary."
But no human intelligence could foresee the
real an astounding facts which were at hand. On the 8th, the Argus writes:
"Thursday was one of the most oppressively
hot days we have experienced for some years. In the morning the atmosphere
was perfectly scorching, and at eleven 0' clock the thermometer stood as
high as 117° in the shade; at one 0 clock it had fallen to 109 [degrees],
and at four in the afternoon it was up to 113[degreesF or 47.22 degreesC].
The blasts of air were so impregnated with smoke and heat that the lungs
seemed absolutely to collapse under their withering influence ; the
murkiness of the atmosphere was so great, that the roads were absolutely
bright by contrast. The usual unpleasantness of hot wind was considerably
aggravated by the existence of extensive bush-fires to the northward, said
by some to have extended forty or fifty miles."
Still so little idea was entertained in
Melbourne of the real extent of these extraordinary fires! The earliest
intelligence of their ravages reached Melbourne from the adjoining district
of the Plenty. "Intelligence reached town yesterday morning," says the Argus
of the 8th “of a most destructive bush-fire that had been raging on the
previous day, at the River Plenty. On the station formerly known as
Anderson's Station between the River Plenty and Diamond Creek, the
destruction was very great; and it is stated, that a poor woman, wife of a
shepherd named McLelland, was, with five children, suffocated in a hut, from
the smoke of the fire which raged around them, and left them no means of
escape. The Coroner has ‘been made aware of this fact’ and has appointed a
day to hold an inquest on the bodies at the Bridge Inn, Plenty River. Eight
or ten farms in that neighbourhood have been entirely destroyed; stacks,
buildings, fences, everything; whilst several men are missing, and fears are
entertained that they have perished.”
On the 10th, the full extent of the
calamity began to dawn upon the astonished writer; the details of that date
in the papers are ample and overwhelming. The Argus says :- "In our
Saturday's issue, we briefly alluded to the extensive and destructive
bushfires that prevailed throughout the country, more particularly on the
Thursday preceding. Rumours bad reached us of conflagrations on every side,
but we did not wish to appear alarmist. Since then, however, we learn with
regret that little only of the ill news had reached us and that what we
thought magnified, is, unhappily, very far from the fearful extent of truth.
"After the sun had gone down on Thursday, a
frightful glare might be observed on the S. S. East. It was the glare of the
burning bush around Dandenong, the whole of that part of the country being
in flames. Preparations had been made for holding the races on that day, but
the flames drove the sportsmen from the course over which they passed. In
the neighbourhood of Western Port, it is reported that nearly the only house
left standing, is the inn at Dandenong."
“The
following letter, received on Saturrday from Western Port, will give some
idea of the destruction caused in that neighbourhood. —Mr. Henry had his
dairy, butter, and other property destroyed. Mr. Maxwell had everything
that. belonged to him destroyed: his family was in the bush all the
following night, and his youngest child's life was preserved by his carrying
water in his hat put round with mud. They are now under the hospitable roof
of Mr. Lecky, who escaped with much exertion and perseverance. Fehan has
everything belonging to him destroyed except a spring-cart, and narrowly
escaped with his life. Mr. Bowman escaped with little scathe, and can
accommodate Fehan's family. Mr. O'Shea's house in saved, but some of the
family got severely burnt. Poor Mr. Bathe was from home. No one was on the
place but a woman and boy. When she raw the place was in danger, she opener
the stable-door to let out Sorcerer but it proved mischief instead of good,
for a favourite horse of Mr. Bathe's rushed into the Stable behind the
entire house, and both perished.
"There is not a
single, post left standing on the place, except one side of the stack-yard.
The woman and boy were in the bush all night, and were found yesterday by
Mr. AV. Burk in a very exhausted state. Mr. Burk lost everything that was on
the farm, and had much difficulty in preserving the stable and public-house.
His face and eyes are much burnt. The school-house, with nineteen children
and teacher in it, was saved at the risk of life. I do not mention what I
have heard, but only what I have seen. Dogs and pigs, running loose, were
burned to death; birds were dropping down before the fire from the trees in
all directions; opossums, kangaroos and all sorts of beasts, can be had
today ready roasted all over the bush. Fully one half of the timber in this
neighbourhood has been burned, or blown down, and all the grass has been
burnt.
"On the Plenty,
also, in almost inconceivable amount of damage has been done. We mentioned
that some ten or twelve farms bad been destroyed, but this is very far from
approaching the actual destruction. More than one hundred families have been
thrown, by the conflagration, houseless upon the property of Mr. Wills, and
a vast amount of wheat, estimated at 20,000 bushels, has been burnt. The
property of Mr. Harlin, and several others of the Upper Plenty, have also
buffered very severely ; and no fatal has it been on Mr. Wills' estate, that
only one of his tenants, Mr. Johnson, by good fortune escaped.
"A
shepherd on Dr. Donald's station saved his family, self, and sheep, by
hastily getting upon some ground previously burnt. On the Mooney Ponds the
fire has been equally destructive. It has ravaged the properties of Messrs.
Hunter, Green, and Young, the latter late of the Harvest Home, whose crop of
hay, &c., valued at £1,000, have been totally destroyed. At the Deep Creek,
also, much damage has been done to the fencing in many places, and the
houses and farm-yards were saved by extraordinary exertions.
"Messrs. Williamson and Blow, of
Pentland Hill, have had their station completely destroyed-home, furniture,
every stitch of clothing except what was in actual wear, library, &c. The
loss in large items alone is estimated at 850[pounds] and they fear the loss
of two flocks of sheep, which are missing. So complete has been the work of
destruction, that Mr. Blow has been compelled to come into town to purchase
clothes for himself and slops for the men. At Mr. Powlett's police-station,
his tent, fences and crops have all been burnt. Fortunately the house was
saved.
The next paragraph is from the Geelong
Advertiser, verbatim:
"EXTENSIVE FIRES.-Yesterday morning a
most extensive fire broke out on the Marrabool River, by which a number of
small farmers suffered severely on the western side of the riyer, whence the
wind brought the fire down to Mr. McLean's paddock, which it destroyed, and
thence to Mr. Walllace's, whose house, premises, and stack-yards have been
burned to the ground. Mr. Robinson's farm, house, and buildings,
agricultural implements, and valuable produce are utterly destroyed. He is a
sufferer to an extent of £1,100 at least. Mr. Costigan has suffered
severely; and Mr. McCarthy has been subjected to great loss. The fire, we
are informed, first passed over the Barabool Hills, destroying the stacks of
Messrs. Leigh, Mrs. Thomas, Mrs. Wilson, and others.
"A gentleman, just arrived, states the
country near the Leigh to be in a complete blaze, and rapidly approaching
Captain Ormond's at the Leigh, between whose house and Mr. Russell's the
fire was raging furiously yesterday. Captain Ormond had turned out all hands
to assist in stopping the progress of the flames. At Mount Cole, the fire
was raging, from the effects of which Mr. Goldsmith's barns and crop had
suffered.
"The Boninyong Forest is in ablaze, and
the timber country is suffering severely. A settler of Wardy Yallock, we are
informed, fired a portion of his back run, to drive the wild cattle down, so
that he might yard them, and hence here are some extensive conflagrations,
which, however, have been confined to the Ranges. The whole of the plains
between the Hopkins and the Leigh have escaped."
The same paper of Saturday adds the
following particulars:
"On the Barrabool Hills, the house,
barns, stables, and seven buildings in all, belonging to Mr. Holmes, with
all his stacks and fences, were utterly destroyed. It was at this point that
the fire crossed the river to M 'Carty's. Mr. Bennett's stacks and fences
are destroyed, as are also those of Mr. Heard. Mr. Fisher's house was saved;
the whole of his crops destroyed. Mr. Thomas has lost his house, stacks,
fences, and implements, including a very valuable threshing-machine. On Mrs.
Tilson's farm everything was destroyed, but the report of her death is
incorrect. Mr. Michael Bolian has had everything destroyed, except one small
hut. Mr. Piper has had his storehouse destroyed, but saved one stack. Mr.
Furlong's stacks and fences were burnt. Mr. Furlong was severely burnt, and
his injuries may be fatal. Mr. Honey's house escaped on Thursday, but took
fire yesterday, and was totally consumed. At Mr. Hopper's, on the Warren
Ponds, the houses, barns, stacks, fences, and implements, were all
destroyed, and three lives lost. At Mr. Simmons' every thing was lost, and.
the same at Mr. Powell's. We cannot enumerate all the sufferers, we do not
yet know the half of them.
We have had no precise information about
the vineyards. It is reported that Belperond's is partially destroyed,
Petavel's is safe.
"Mr. Wallace's house is burnt to the
ground with his farming implements, 700 bushels of corn, and several fences.
Mr. Jack's has suffered little, if any. C0stigan has 108t a barn, five ricks
of oats, one rick of barley, one rick of hay containing sixty tons, one rick
of wheat, farming implements, a winnowing-machine, dray and tarpaulin. Beds
and clothes of every description are utterly gone, and the flames still
linger on the banks of the creek. The desolation which we had already
witnessed, somewhat prepared us for the sight we encountered. Three
dwelling-houses had gone down in the fire. A few cinders and charred rafters
marked the spot where a barn had stood. The irons of three ploughs lay in
the ashes at another place, alongside of the ironwork of a winnowing
machine, half burnt in the ashes of 600 Bushels of wheat in chaff, and the
same quantity in rick. There were the roasted carcasses of four calves
tethered, and pigs fattened, burnt black by the flames. Forty dairy pigs
perished and were lying about in every direction, and more than half that
number were severely injured. Six large ones lay in one heap along the
Marrabool. A hundred and fifty fowls were destroyed. Forty tons of hay, the
whole of the fencing, the dairy utensils gone, and butter to the value of 70
[pounds] spoiled. Seven hundred pounds worth of Property has been destroyed.
With the house and huts perished the whole
of their furniture and apparel--one pair of boots and a shirt being all that
remains. The stack-yard was burnt, and the cows, frightened off by the
flames, have fled. Mrs. Murphy, living on the place, had a narrow escape.
She was obliged to fly with her two children, and take refuge in the river,
and so close were the flames upon her, that the hut was in a blaze before
she left it. The poor woman had only been confined a fortnight.
Mrs. Mullings, living on a neighbouring
farm, plunged into the creek with four of her children, for safety. Connor's
farm produce, and implements, are utterly destroyed. On Robinson's farm,
4,000 bushels of wheat and 1,000 bushels of oats, with everything of value,
perished. From Costigan's up to Robinson's, this point presented nothing but
black desolation. From the high range above, as far as the eye could reach,
the scene looked as though it had been swept by the wing of the destroying
angel.
Such are the accounts from every district
where this tremendous fire raged, and with the details of which I could fill
a whole volume. But these, may be taken as a sample of the terrible whole.
I shall now note only such passages as give
some peculiar views of human suffering. At the inquests held on the bodies
of the sufferers in Melbourne, the following particulars were given
respecting the families in Diamond Creek and the Plenty, whose misfortunes I
have already noticed :
"The bullock-dray," says the Argus of Feb.
10th, "containing the bodies had been expected to arrive at the Traveller's
Red Inn, Collingwood, by 7 p.m., but it was something later, and when the
boughs and few rugs which bodies removed, the spectacle was extremely
harrowing. The bodies had been placed on the dray in the same positions in
which they were found, and had their faces to the ground. Four of the bodies
were quite charred, and of those two of the children were far from complete.
Its being viewed by the light of a few lanterns only, gave no trifling
effect to the distressing scene which the jurors were in duty bound to
contemplate.
“The bereaved Richard George McLelland, so
lately a comfortable settler on the Diamond Creek, had been previously
brought to the inn. He appeared to be in a very dangerous state, being
seriously burnt about his arms and legs, as well as suffering from the shock
to his mind by the dreadful calamity. The coroner visited him, but deemed it
improper to trouble him with any questions, and gave an order for his
removal to the Melbourne hospital an soon as possible.
"Alexander Miller, shepherd to Mr. R. G.
McLelland, settler, deposed, that he had been employed as a shepherd to a
flock of 1,100 sheep for three weeks past. He had seen, a bush-fire burning
nearly all that time on the mountains, which are about two miles distant
from his master's station, but did not see that it had come nearer to them
until Thursday, 6th instant, when, about noon, in taking the sheep to the
creek to drink, he suddenly found that the fire had reached the trees which
were on the same shide of the creek as the station, and was rapidly coming
on towards him. He, therefore, quickly drove the sheep to the home station
for safety, and, owing to the smoke which increased upon him, had much
difficulty in so doing.
"When
he arrived there, he found that the hut and tho out- buildings and all near
to them were on fire. He called to his master and family, but received no
answer. He could not reach the hut, nor get the sheep to move again from the
hurdles; so to save his own life, he ran through tho smoke and burning trees
down to the creek, plunged into it, and remained there until the evening,
when, as the fire had somewhat passed over, he returned to where he had left
the sheep, and also walked about near to where the hut had been, to see if
any of the family were to be seen. He saw none 0f them, nor any of the
sheep; so returned again to the creek, but then went to the place where they
usually dipped for water. There he found his master, Mr. McLelland lying up
to his neck in the water; helped him to get up, and asked him where were the
mistress and the children? Mr. McClelland replied that they were all
dead!
"His master and himself lay down close to
tho water all night, and during that time Mr. McLelland told him that he had
been much burnt through trying to save his oldest boy, about eight years 0f
age; that he had carried the child a little way, but the boy had said to
him, 'Father, lay me down;’ and that, finding the child's head immediately
drop, as if in death. He had laid him down, and had no power of carrying him
further, his own arms being so dreadfully burnt.
"Mr.
McLelland also told him that the other bodies would be found near the hut,
and in the morning Mr. McLelland wanted to go and look for them; but he
persuaded him not to go, but to go with him at once to Dr. Ronald's station,
about two miles distant, and there get himself attended to.
" Having seen his master most hospitably
received there, he then went to the Bridge Inn, Plenty River, where he
procured a dray to fetch away the bodies and requested that information
might be immediately sent to Melbourne of the deaths; which was quickly
done. Witness went with tho dray to the station, and on arriving near to
where the hut had been, he met a young man named Parish, and three other
persons, who showed him where the bodies lay, and assisted him in putting
them upon the dray. Five of the bodies lay about twenty yards from the back
of the hut, and that of the eldest boy was about fifteen yards from the
front of the hut. All of them lay on their faces, and there was not a
vestige of their clothing to be seen. The grass and everything near them was
burnt.
"In answer to Mr. Foy, the foreman of tho
jury, the shepherd said that the hut was about a hundred yards from the
creek, and that he did not during the night leave the creek, because the
trees between the creek and the hut were burning fiercely, and also because
he was told by his master that Mrs. McLelland and the children were all
dead."
Upon the inquests held before the coroner
of Geelong, the following facts were elicited :- Three people were burnt to
death on the Barrabool hills, James Bowman, one of them, had been employed
by his master, Mr, Russell, in endeavouring to extinguish the flames. He was
missed, sought after, and found burnt to a cinder in the very same track
that the other men had taken to escape from the fire.
Mr. Leonard Hopper, farmer, deposed, that
while burning the stubble with the view of cutting of the pursuit of the
bush-fire, the wind suddenly shifted, and brought the flames close to them.
He had then said that further effort was useless, and every man ran from the
flames. Mr. Stephen Hopper, his brother, had taken a direction different
from the rest, and five minutes afterwards his body was found, so burnt and
disfigured, as scarcely to be recognisable.
Mrs. Hopper, the wife of Mr. Leonard
Hopper, stated, that when she saw the fire coming up the hill, she gave her
children to the care of Sarah Horlop. Some one called out for water; Sarah
Horlop went to fetch it, and while she was gone the fire came raging up.
Mrs. Hopper then took her own children, and Sarah Horlop's with her, and ran
with them to a secure place. On reaching it, she looked to see whom she had
with her, and then missed Pheobe Horlop. On this she called William Hay to
look for her, who shortly afterwards informed her that she was dead. The
child's father had gone with William Hay in search of the child, and
discovered her lying on the paddock, but on taking her up in his arms, found
that she was quite dead.
On the 11th of February, the Argus says :-
"As distance allows the various accounts to reach Melbourne, news of
destruction, desolation, and ruin come pouring in upon us, until our heart
sickens at the fearful nature of our duty. The excitement which this
terrible event has caused, is without parallel in our colony, all having
friends or relatives in the bush, but whoso fate the strongest anxiety is
felt.
"Only
very few farms on the Plenty have escaped; but the owners of these few have
acted nobly in affording protection and shelter to the numerous houseless
and destitute wanderers that the flames have made. There are still more
persons of whom nothing has been heard, and, consequently, the intensest
anxiety is felt on their account. It is almost certain that at least two or
three of these have perished in the flames.
“Mr. Airey’s station on the Goulburn has
been completely destroyed; while from this spot to the Broken River the
country is entirely desolated."
That is upwards of 60 miles in extent.
The station of Mr. H. N. Simpson was
entirely burnt down, the house only excepted. Three or four flocks of sheep
were missing after the fire; while, out of 30,000 sheep, only 8,000 had been
discovered at the time that these accounts reached Melbourne. Travellers
who then passed through the bush gave the most heart-rending accounts of the
suffering of the horses and cattle. Many of the poor animals were lying on
the ground, incapable, from the injuries they had received, of supplying the
wants of nature; and as soon as a human being appeared in sight, they seemed
to crave his aid by their melancholy cries.
Other papers of the same date furnish
striking descriptions of the fearful ravages made by this conflagration.
Similar statements are given in private letters.
A writer from Mount Macedon gave a
deplorable relation of the destruction in that neighbourho0d; stating,
moreover, that he was in possession of evidence that part, at least, of the
terrible catastrophe there was caused by a squatter setting fire to the dry
grass, to burn it 0ff before the new grass should spring. This he states to
be a common practice in the bush. He says:-
"I write in the midst of desolation.
Thursday morning was ushered in with a fierce hot wind, which, as the day
advanced, grew stronger and stronger. For three weeks bush-fires had been
raging to the northward and westward of the Bush Inn. About noon the whole
of Mount Macedon and the ranges were one sheet of flame careering on at the
speed of a race-horse; carrying all before it as clean as a chimney newly
swept. The destruction in the vicinity of the Bush Inn is truly appalling.
On Messrs. Riddle and Hamilton's cattle station, the cottage, huts, hay,
wheat, oats, stack-yard, paddock, fences, are all in ruins. Peter and David
Murray, who rented the dairy, have lost all they possessed, and barely
escaped with their lives. Messrs. Riddle and Hamilton have also lost their
out-station huts. Mr. Paulett, at the police station, has lost large
haystacks, but saved his cottage and buildings.
"But
for a number of men being at the Bush Inn, it, along with seventy tons of
hay and grain, would have been burnt to the ground; the fire being within
the fence surrounding the hay and grain, as well as burning the dry straw at
the stable doors. The blacksmith's and farm servants' huts were burned, with
all belonging to the poor men. Mr. Robertson's house, huts, and grain have
escaped in a most wonderful manner, but his bridges, drays, fences, and
garden are destroyed. One of his shepherds, along with his flock, was
completely surrounded with the flames. The cries of the shepherd brought up
a man who was himself running for his life. Seeing that there was no hope,
except they could burst through the flames, they drove the sheep back to a
bare piece of ground facing the fire, and they then set to work as a matter
of life and death, to beat out as much flame with green boughs as would
barely permit the sheep to pass through. Thus, getting to the windward and
behind the fire, they rescued both themselves and the flock.
"On the mountains the splitters and
sawyers had everything burned. One of them had a fine mare burned to death;
and a man of the name of Jones, who was cutting timber down, lost two
valuable draft horses and a bullock-dray. The wife of Taylor, one of the
splitters, was severely burnt about the breast and arms; and the wife of
Doolin, another splitter, was in flames, and only saved by a man wrapping a
wet blanket round her. Edward Morris, another splitter, managed
admirably,-being a man of nerve and near the water, he and his mate saved
his wife and children, who were in the hut; but in common with the rest of
tho splitters, he lost his hut and stuff. The women Taylor and Doolin
escaped with scarcely a rag to cover them.
"A bullock-driver named Bill, fetching a
load of timber from the mountain, got enclosed by the fire; he unyoked his
bull0cks to give them a chance of escape, but seeing all hope cut off for
himself, be laid hold of a bullock's tail, and giving a great whoop, the
animal rushed forward, dashed headlong through the flames, and cleared him
of all danger. But great numbers of cattle perished in that neighbourhood.
They were found lying in all directions, dead and dying, many of them with
their entrails protruding."
The Portland Guardian of the 7th gave a
very striking view of the awful conflagration in that neighbourhood. It
said:-
"Yesterday
afternoon was a period of extraordinary heat, and we are sorry to say, of
calamity also. The heat, from 11 o'clock a.m. until afternoon, was most
oppressive, a hot wind blowing from the N. N. West in the most furious
manner. At this time the thermometer stood for an hour by one glass at
122[degrees], while by others it reached 116[degrees] in the sun. The dust
in the street was most suffocating, penetrating the smallest crevices, and
filling the houses. In consequence of the excessive heat and bush-fires, the
last day of the races was postponed to this day. About 12 o’clock a
bush-fire in the vicinity of tho town began to rage with the utmost fury. It
sprang up near the race-course, and through the violence of the hot wind,
threatened to consume the booths, and to envelop the persons who had
assembled there, in the flames, before time could be afforded them to
escape.
"By
a slight change of wind, however, the races escaped, but the resistless
element swept away in its course the newly-erected cottage of Mr. Howard,
the collector of customs, leaving only just time to hurry Mrs. Howard and
the children out of it, before their residence became a perfect cinder. So
sudden and rapid was the progress of the flames, that the fowls and goats
about the premises were all consumed. The fire swept along before the wind,
carrying away the fences and everything that stood in its path, for about a
mile and a half. The utmost concern was meantime felt for the safety of the
town in another quarter. The fire was approaching; fiery particles were
whirling down the streets, and flying over the tops of the houses in
profusion. Not a constable was t0 be seen in the place! The inhabitants did
what they could to save their homes and property, but water-carts and all
concentrated efforts were at a vast discount. Fortunately, the wind
moderated about two 0' clock, and the apprehension passed away.
"While this fire was raging in the
immediate vicinity of the town, Mount Clay and the farms in that locality
were enveloped in one stupendous blaze. Messrs. Millard, Monoque, McLacklan
and Dick were severe sufferers. Millard had the whole of his crops
destroyed, and the work of years was swept away in a few hours from those
industrious families. Their fences, their crops and houses were annihilated
at a stroke."
The same accounts detailed the
destruction of the Bush Tavern, the bridge across the Fitzroy, with the
destruction of other houses and property.
But in no locality was the conflagration
of Black Thursday more terribly magnificent than in the forest of CAPE OTWAY.
This is one of the densest forests in the colony, and covered with gigantic
trees. As you approach the country by sea, the range of the Cape Otway
forest hills, on your left hand as you advanced towards the bay of Port
Phillip, presents a fine, bold and impressive view. Those lofty hills,
clothed with forest from the margin of the sea to their very tops, realise
vividly to your imagination your approach to a vast region of primeval
nature. You see the tall white boles of the trees that stand side by side
like so many hoary columns, on the high acclivities, and here and there
amongst them descend dark ravines, while piles of rocks on the heights,
alternating with projecting chines and spurs of the mountains, present their
solitary masses to the breezes of the ocean.
Cape Otway forest is upwards of 50 miles
in extension in each direction. Before the 6th of February, 1851, it was
said to be almost impassable from the density of the scrub, and the thick
masses of vines, as they are called, that is lianas, or creeping, cord-like
plants, chiefly parasitical, which as in the forests of South America, climb
from tree to tree, knitting the forest into one obscure and impenetrable
shade. Except along Mr. Roadknight’s track, from his station near the
sources of the Barwon, through the heart of the forest to Apollo Bay, a
distance of 40 miles, you might before the fire cut your way with an axe,
but find it difficult to make progress through it at all.
"The
most striking features of the Cape Otway country are, the immense size and
crowdedness of the timber trees, and the density and luxuriant growth of the
fern scrub. This scrub, in ordinary circumstances, burns slowly, so that a
fire may continue for many weeks in some parts of the timber without
extending very far from the spot where it originated. Such a fire was, in
fact, known to exist for a month past in the ranges, but no alarm was felt
in consequence. The hot wind of Thursday, however, playing upon the kindled
nucleus, caused the fire to spread with such fury, that the dense scrub was
swept away like stubble, and the flames were carried along in the tops of
the trees, leaving the massive trunks ignited wherever any decayed hollow or
dead branch gave the fire a resting-place.
"The body of flame came down with such
rapidity from the ranges, towards the coast, that, as was the case here, the
persons who left their huts for a few hours found, on their return, all
swept away. One sawyer, named Joseph Hill, was in the utmost consternation
for a long time respecting his wife and children, who he imagined had
perished in their hut; but was relieved by finding that they had exercised
an unusual foresight, and got to a safe distance, Everything in and around
the place was consumed, including a supply of rations, just arrived from
Otway. In the huts the very brass was melted off the cooking utensils. This
was at Apollo Bay. The timber in the forest which was cut, is supposed to be
destroyed, but that piled on the sandy beach is saved. At Addis Bay, Mr.
William Fisher, the most enterprising of the Cape Otway settlers, has had
everything destroyed- huts, timber, stores, and all. His stock of timber was
very large."
To this account succeeds a fresh
catalogue of crop, cattle, and stations destroyed; and another paragraph
describes the whole route from Geelong to the Barrabool Hills as literally
covered with dead parrots, magpies, and other birds.
A carrier was brought into Melbourne
Hospital who had been overtaken at the Running Creek, in the ranges near the
Plenty, where he had encamped with his wife and a bushman. The whole team of
bullocks and dray were burnt. The bushman ran for his life, and Dodswell the
carrier, and his wife, threw themselves into a creek, which, however, was
only six inches deep, but they laved themselves over and over for about six
hours. During this time, spite of the water, the whole of their clothes were
burnt off their backs, and they barely escaped with life itself. The man was
so severely burnt, along the whole length of his back and about the chest
that he died in the hospital, his wife being in great suffering all that
time.
In the Portland district, the fire which
destroyed Fitzroy Town was so intense that it left nothing but the chimneys
standing of the buildings; the fowls were shrivelled to the size of ordinary
potatoes, and the very articles that were dragged from the house and thrown
into the river did not escape, but every part of them above the surface of
the water was destroyed, and the bridge burnt to the water's edge.
The German settlers near Geelong
suffered severely. These gentlemen came out from Hamburg about a year
before, bringing with them a large collection of young vines and other
fruit-trees, as well as a great quantity of seeds. They had preserved the
young plants during the voyage by great care, and now their garden,
containing nearly 300 trees and about 3,000 vine-plants, was wholly
destroyed. One of these emigrants, writing to a friend, said :- "Two minutes
were sufficient to put to flames all our property, and in about half-an-hour
there remained nothing visible but embers. All our crops of oats, hay, and
grain, our plantations, fruits, and vines, were annihilated! The fences were
destroyed, the fodder burnt. Happily and miraculously, our dwelling house,
standing in the midst of flames, was spared; the same our horses and cart.
With danger we have saved our lives; our poor poodle dog from Germany was
burnt; also nearly all our poultry and a goat. The cows are saved," &c.
Such was the grand conflagration of
BLACK THURSDAY in Victoria! Nothing can be conceived more sublimely
terrible. All those circumstances of horror and death which we enumerated in
the opening of this article were more than realised. The flame careering
with lightning speed along the tops of the trees, fanned and lashed on by
the violent hot winds, is said to have been attended by the most appalling
roar, more awfully overpowering than that of the ocean in storm. The people—
men, women, and children—rushing from their burning abodes, to fling
themselves into rivers and creeks, and often in vain. The herds of horses
and cattle scouring wildly over the country in terror. Vast flocks of sheep,
deserted by their shepherds, who had to run for their own lives, left to
perish in the burning bush. The troops of wild creatures of the forest, of
all kinds, bounding to and fro in confusion amid the enfolding blaze and
smoke, till they fell and perished--- legions of them burnt alive in their
hollow trees and subterranean holes. The birds, struck down by the
flames from the air, and lying scorched 0n the
earth by thousands. Horsemen flying before the threatened death at the
highest speed of their horses, till man and horse fell, equally exhausted.
Drovers and draymen consumed on the road with the drays and vehicles.
Solitary travellers running before the
wasting surge of flame through the boundless woods, and often, too, in vain!
How many of these perished in this now truly “howling wilderness” God only
knows. The thundering tide of fire taking the tops of the trees in its
course, and devouring them in its momentary transit. Trees, standing all
over the vast forest, intense columns of fire, and others lying on the
ground, with all their gigantic boughs masses of lurid heat, ever and anon
blown to a terrible whiteness by the hot wind as it raved along the bush. In
a word, the whole country one glowing furnace, one magnificent but
melancholy conflagration.
We have since travelled over a great
portion of this desolated region, and everywhere still are visible in
blackened masses of fallen timber, and in grim, charred trunks of gigantic
trees still standing, the ravages of Black Thursday. Still on Mount
Disappointment you see, afar off, the ranges covered with leafless trees
which perished at that time. Whole dead forests, whose tall stems range
whitely side by side like the apparitions of the past; while along the rich
land at the feet of the Plenty ranges the dead and charred trees for miles
show where the fires raged so fiercely and so fatally to the inhabitants. We
have visited some of those very farms where the people perished, as above
related.
On the same day, at Adelaide, there was
a fierce hot wind, and the dust was suffocating.
At sea the weather was even more fearful
than on shore. Captain Reynolds reported that on that day, when about twenty
miles from Laurenas, the heat was so intense that every soul was struck
almost powerless. A s0rt of whirlwind in the afternoon struck the vessel,
and carried the top-sail, lowered down on the cap, clean out of the
bolt-ropes, and had he not been prepared for the shock, would, he has no
doubt, have capsized the vessel. Flakes of fire were at the time flying
thick all around the vessel from the sh0re in the direction of Portland.
The captain of another vessel sailing
the straits stated that his was, in the afternoon, suddenly enveloped in
darkness, through the thick volumes of smoke, dust, and ashes which came
over it; and ashes were not only carried 0ver to Van Diemen's land, but out
hundreds of leagues to sea.
Harpur, a colonial poet, in his "Wild
Bee of Australia," has devoted one of his compositions to this subject. The
following extract describes the general features of the conflagration:
Through the day the conflagration raged;
And when the wings of night o’erspread
the scene,
Not even their starry blazonry wore such
An aggregated glory to the eye
As did the blazing dead-wood of the
forest,
On all sides blazing! Mighty, sapless
gums,
Amid their living kindred stood, all
fire;
Boles, branches, all—like flaming ghosts
of trees
Come from the past, within the white
man’s pale,
To typify their doom. Such was the
scene!
Illuminated cities were but jests
Compared to it for splendour. But
enough.
Where were the words to paint the
million shapes
And unimaginable peaks of fire,
When holding thus its monster carnival,
In the primeval forest, all night long?
My
thanks to the National Library of Australia where
the original papers are held.
Transcript © John Blay 2009
Permission should be sought for commercial publication
from the author at
sefproject@netspeed.com.au
