The Chronicles of Early Melbourne/Volume 1/Chapter 3 - Wikisource, the free online library (2024)

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SYNOPSIS: —Beating the Boundaries. —Aldermanic Procession. —Charon on the Styx. —Sandridge Nomenclature. —Emerald Hill —First Government Land Sale there —Mr. James Service its First Mayor. —St. Kilda known as "Euro-Yroke." —Its Street Nomenclature. —Champagne Corks. —Windsor and Prahran. —Murphy's Paddock. —Sir Charles Hotham and Colonial Beer. —Gardiner's Creek Road. —Political Cabals. —Big and Little Scandals. —"Cotmandene" -Mr. G. W. Rusden's Residence. —Hon. James Graham. —Docker's Hill. —Parson Docker —"Struck Oil." —Value of Land in Richmond. —Rus in Urbe. —Judge Pohlman. —"Billy Barrett." —Richmond Street Nomenclature.—Fitzroy Gardens and East Melbourne. —Bishop's Court. —The Quadrangle. —East Melbourne Street Nomenclature. —Laying Foundation Stone of First Johnston Street Bridge. —St. Helier's. —Fitzroy-cum-Collingwood Convents. —Collingwood Street Nomenclature. —Reilly Street Drain. —The Quarries. —Fitzroy Street Nomenclature. —The Prisoners' Stockade. —The Necropolis. —Tricks of Mayors and Councillors. —Residence of Sir Redmond Barry. —Carlton and Hotham Street Nomenclature. —Mirring-gnay-bir-nong.

IN olden times there was a Triennial Ceremony of the Corporation, which was the cause of much jollification for those who joined in it. It was what was known in Municipal phraseology as "the beating of the metes and boundaries of the city." The boundary line—a very crooked one—was traversed, and the sign-posts inspected to ascertain that no trespassers were poaching on the domain dedicated to the public. The procession usually consisted of the Mayor, Town Clerk, Surveyor, the Chief Constable, and as many Aldermen, Councillors, and newspaper-men as chose to accompany them. What with the stops and stays, the knocking in and the knocking out, and the divers " liquorings up" (for the early Mayors were loud "shouters"), it took two whole days to go through this not very interesting, but legally necessary, work. Following, then, such a time-honoured precedent, I invite as many readers as choose to accompany me, to a circumambulation of the old city suburbs, promising that our trip shall neither be as tedious nor tortuous as those I have indicated; but the only refreshment I can provide is unadulterated, and I would fain hope, pleasant, gossip by the way. I further propose to make the now bustling borough of Sandridge our starting point. Standing at the Bay Street pier, and looking around and over the water to the other side, it is amusing to contemplate the now and the then. Let anyperson, even the most seriously disposed, try, if he can, to read without a smile the following notice which appears in the Melbourne Advertiser of 1838, over the sign-manual of one H. M'Lean:—

"The undersigned begs to inform the public that he has a boat and two men in readiness for the purpose of crossing and re-crossing passengers between Williamstown and the opposite beach. Parties from Melbourne are requested to raise a smoke, and the boat will be at their service as soon as practicable. The least charge is five shillings, and two shillings each when the number exceeds two."

This sturdy Charon—evidently from his name and style a son of the "Land of the Mist,"—must have made Williamstown his terminus, as the wayfarers were to signal from the north or Sandridge side. He is rather unspecific in his language, for though he enjoins the "raising of a smoke," he does not define the sort of smoke it is to be, leaving that, as a matter of course, to the imagination of those requiring his services. It is plain, however, that he meant them to kindle afire, a process much facilitated by the immense quantity of ti-tree scrub then luxuriating everywhere all around. This was the fuel, which, when freshly pulled, if it did not produce a flame, was sure to end in more than a "bottle of smoke" with a vengeance. But M'Lean's career in crown-making was of short duration, as a regular line of Watermen was soon in full pull, and whether M'Lean is still in the land of the living or has transferred his services to the banks of the Styx, is more than I can say. Sandridge remained a poor, miserable place, until the gold discoveries, and consequent rush of people from all parts of the world, shoved it half a century ahead. Until 1851, its progress was inconsiderable, the chief business places being some three or four hotels ​which were tolerably well patronised by the sailors and boatmen knocking about, and such Melbourniansas were disposed on fine evenings to undertake a pedestrian trip to the beach, to inhale the ozone,supplemented with a nip of the not over-proof rum or brandy which the seaside Taverners kept on draught.Sandridge was very appropriately n a m e d by the Provincial Superintendent (Air. Latrobe), for it wasa veritable sand-hole whenfirstvisited by Europeans, and a barrel daubed with white paint had to behoisted to a tree-trunk as afinger-postto point the way to Melbourne. T h efirstcivilised habitation therewas a tent pitched on the wild beach, by an enterprising colonist named Liardet, some of whose family arestill amongst us. T h e tent soon gave way to a tavern, another " pub " shortly sprang up a few yards off,and then an occasional house or two. W h e n the corporate orbit of Melbourne was enlarged, Sandridgebecame one of the municipal adjuncts, and a troublesome and unprofitable one it was. T h e golddiscoveries gave it a shove along, infused some life into what was almost moribund, and in process of timeit expanded into a separate municipality, and thenceforth became a thriving town. Whoever had thenaming of its streets m a d e a sad mess of it, for with the exception of Liardet (the earliest inhabitant), M r .Peter Lalor, Ex-Speaker of the Legislative Assembly, M r . James Carton, an old Sandridgite, and M r .Inglis, an enterprising resident, the nomenclature was distributed amongst a batch of local mediocrities.Certainly they have amongst them a Pickles Street—no misnomer considering the briny nature of theplace; but if there was any respect entertained for thefitnessof things, to m a k e the pickles go well, thestreets should be grafted with a " pork," "cabbage," " onions," or "cold beef" street, but such an allianceseems never to have been once thought of. Sandridge, with the surrounding district, is believed to haveformed at some remote period a delta of the Yarra, which discharged into the sea through the old lagoon,and from Sandridge to Emerald Hill by this route was not a pleasant, though not a distant stroll, for almostevery step of the way one was more than ankle deep in sand.Several of the localities around Melbourne were n a m e d after well-known and cherished spots in theold country; and the only one whose nomenclature has given rise to newspaper controversy is EmeraldHill. This once beautiful eminence which rivalled Batman's Hill, and m u c h exceeded it in size, was thegrazing ground of the kangaroo, until a sheep station and the strange looking animals accompanying it,scared them away. Captain Lonsdale is said to have purchased 200 lambs at two guineas each, and turnedthem out on the hill to depasture. It was at all times a favourite trysting-place of the blacks, w h o heldcorroborees and native dances there, a pantomimic performance occasionally witnessed by the Melbournianson fine s u m m e r nights. It was k n o w n simply as "the green hill over the Yarra " until 1849, when for thefirst time it was styled " Emerald Hill " by Mr. E d m u n d Finn,* a Melbourne journalist, in a notice writtenby him, announcing that a picnic of the Father Matthew Society would be held there on a certain day. Atthe time no n a m e could be more appropriate, for it was as green as if it had been by some miraculousagency imported in globo, but shamrockless, from the Emerald Lsle.In after years when the verdure had been annihilated by bricks and mortar, builders, carpenters, andplasterers, an attempt was m a d e to change the n a m e to Clarkestown after Sir. A. Clarke, one of the mostactive agents in the introduction to the colony of the system of Local Self-Government, but so m u c hdisfavour of the innovation was shown by the Hillites that the project was abandoned. T h e Hill,though a picturesque and beautiful place in itself, was surrounded by swamps, and deemed a ratherunhealthy locality. O n theflatbetween it and the Yarra, Mr. J. P. Fawkner performed the agricultural featof planting a crop of wheat, and this wheatfieid was afterwards transformed into the more payable " spec "of a brickfield, the bricks from which m a n y of the earlier brickwalled houses were built. T h e brickfieldremained for some years, until thrust out of the market by the brick kilns of other more suitable places,and is n o w being gradually taken up as sites for brick-residences of every kind and degree, andbreweries, factories, and manufactories of the most mixed kind. S o m e future day, one of those terriblefloods, more than once seen by old colonists, will c o m e tumbling d o w n from the Upper Yarra Ranges, andsweep one half of the modern improvements into the sea.T h e first Government sale of land at Emerald Hill took place in 1849, but there was not m u c hrequest for the building allotments. After a little time the d e m a n d sharpened, and the events of the fewe

" Garryowen." ​succeeding years established the settlement. Emerald Hill, though municipally attached to Melbourne,was thefirstto take advantage of the powers of severance conferred by the Municipal Institutions' Act,and accordingly a "Repeal of the Union," was speedily effected. In its efforts to introduce the SelfGovernment System, the Bill had the great advantage of a few able indefatigable local men, w h o" K n e w their rightsA n d knowing would maintain them,"

and amongst them m a y be accounted as facile princeps—Mr. James Service, the first Mayor of theMunicipality, w h o for years rendered a series of local services of a most invaluable nature, which nevershould have been, but were, forgotten. It is worthy to note the many civic improvements wrought on theHill, which has within the past few years showed more signs of permanent advancement than any othersuburb. It m a y be now said to join Sandridge, it is fast moving towards St. Kilda and South Yarra; and itis practically as near Melbourne as one of the principal streets of the City. Here there is something of agreater variety of street-naming than in Sandridge, for, whilst the municipal authorities took goodcare not to forget themselves, they have condescended to confer favours on Prince Albert, LordsNelson, Raglan and Palmerston, and Mr. Cobden; and they have actually a St. Vincent amongst them.T h e n o w fashionable watering-place, St. Kilda, was, in the "dark ages," known as " Euro-Yroke,"after a sort of sandstone found there, with which the blacks used to shape and sharpen their rude stonetomahawks, and its present pleasant n a m e was obtained in the following manner:—Once on a time, there was a picnic in one of the then umbrageous nooks with which the beautifulsuburb abounded. M a n y of the elite of Melbourne were there, and amongst them the Superintendent,Mr. Latrobe. Whilst the champagne corks were flying, someone said to Mr. Latrobe, " What n a m eshall this place have?" and Mr. Latrobe, at the m o m e n t looking over the water, saw a small yacht sailinglike a swan before him. T h e sight suggested the answer, and he replied, " Well, I don't think w e can dobetter than n a m e it after Captain's yacht."* T h e n a m e of the little clipper was " T h e St. Kilda,"and so St. Kilda came to be thenceforward known. But St. Kilda was for several years little more than apretty seaside retreat, visited by the well-to-do Melbournians w h o flocked on summer evenings to coolthemselves after the heat and turmoil of the day. A comfortable hotel was kept there by a Mr. Howard,and half-a-dozen villa residences were put up at various times. T h e land about was either sandy or s w a m pscrub; and in winter all pedestrianism between it and Brighton was cut off by quagmires. Save on theMelbourne side, it was often both water and puddle-bound. Towards 1850, some co-operating land-buyingsocieties were formed, and purchases were made about this quarter. T h e " Golden Age," the next year,pushed it and Windsor, Elsternwick, Caulfield, Malvern, and around there, ahead. St. Kilda began tospread its wings, and " Forward!" became its motto. At the time of the naming of the streets the Crimeafurore had reached the colony, and the authorities must have been a good deal war-bitten, for St. Kildawas considerably War-officed by the martial designations of some of its highways. Honour was done toWellington, Nelson, and Havelock, whilst the Alma, Balaclava, Inkerman, Sebastopol, and, the Malakoffwere not forgotten. A dash of law and equity was added in Jervis and Westbury, statecraftcommemorated by Carlisle, and Barkly, and old colonists not forgotten in Fawkner, Gurner, Greeves,Jackson, Dalgety and Burnett. Literature was commemorated in the illustrious names of Byron, Scott,Southey, Dickens, Tennyson, Mitford, and Burns—but proh, pudor! poor Moore was passed over! Hisumbra, however, need take no offence at the omission—for " Lalla R o o k h " lives where " St. Kilda " isunknown.Windsor never seemed to m e afittingdesignation for the district which got wedged between St.Kilda and Prahran. In one of the dialects of the aborigines, "Prahran" means sandy, and a miserable"sand-blinding, slush-making and rarely-visited region it was in the good old times. B y the strangest of allconjunctures, too, it got in some way municipally screwed up to South Yarra. In this Southern districtthere is a most amusing mixing up of street names, for w e have Sir Walter Raleigh keeping company withLord Chatham, and D r Lang, the old religious firebrand of N e w South Wales, exchanging complimentswith Lord Aberdeen and George Washington; and Charon, the ferryman of the Infernal Regions attended

'•' This name was never discovered. ​

​by no less than three saints—viz., one St. E d m u n d and two St. Davids. W o n d e r the Prahranites did not

go a little further, and, dispensing with one of their Saintships, give Charon a help-meet in a street n a m e dJezebel. There is also a Murphy Street, said to be called after a worthy denizen, w h o once had aMurphy's paddock between Punt R o a d and the Bridge. Potatoes were grown in a part of this—so flowery,that no prize bag ever shipped from Warrnambool could equal them, and Murphy's namesake came to bebetter liked and relished than himself.H e was a person of some consequence in his day, and, accordingto tradition, this is the way in which such an unassuming and commonplace n a m e came to be everlastinglyallied with a quarter which afterwards took unto itself very exclusive aristocratic notions. A n d n o w as w eare at the Gardiner's Creek Road, let us be as polite as if w e were on the " Block," for are w e notpedestrianising the fashionable region of South Yarra? This road was so called after Mr. John Gardiner,a bank manager in V a n Diemen's Land, who, fancying that gold might be as speedily coined under abullock's hide as in a bank parlour, bade good-bye to bullion, took to bulls, and was one of the firstarrivals in the n e w settlement. H e soon tired of bulls, turned back to bills and banking, and hisn a m e frequently occurs in the old Chronicles.It should be mentioned that Prahran Flats werefirst annexed by two partners named G o g and Walpole, but they did not m a k e m u c h of itfor sheep or cattle feeding. A M r . Glass (not the afterwards well-known H u g h ) was more fortunate,for he declared himself the lord and master of green Boroondara, from lordly Toorak to loftyTara, from bosky Burwood plain to Ballyshanassy; and Boroondara beef soon m a d e itself known in themarket.If the Gardiner's Creek R o a d could speak, what queer tales could it not tell since the timew h e n Gardiner's bullocks stampeded along it; when Sir Charles H o t h a m m a d e Toorak his vice-regalflagship, hoisted his broad pennant from its turret, and dispensed colonial beer to his guests at birthdayfestivals. There was no road in the colony better posted up in all the great changes which have sweptover this community; better versed in all the political cabals that have taken place; better learned in allthe big and little scandals of every day as it passed. If this road could speak, and only tell a tithe of whatit has heard uttered by those w h o passed along it for the last thirty years, truth would be found strangerthan fiction, and no mistake. Let us proceed, however, and turn the corner, where the late m u c hlamented Judge Fellows once resided; and, standing on the top of Punt Hill, look round and ask where weare?W e are opposite " Cotmandene," a queer, comfortable-looking hooded house, of monastic aspect, fitresidence for a recluse; yet no anchorite dwells there, for it is the h o m e of M r . G. W . Rusden, the clerkof the Parliaments, so well k n o w n in the colony as a m a n w h o has the gift of. tongues, and can write evenmore fluently than he can talk. A n d then on the opposite side, a little further north, is the feathered nestof the H o n . James Graham.It is called Elibank House, after a m e m b e r of the Elibank family, the H o n .Erskine Murray, w h o originally bought the land thereabout. H e was amongst the earliest barristers atthe Port Phillip bar, and is mentioned in other chapters. T h e present occupant, when it passed into hispossession, clung to the old name, though often asked to change it. T h e H o n . James Graham is one ofour primitive merchants of w h o m so few survive. H e arrived in 1838, and has witnessed all thecommercial and political ordeals through which the colony has passed. Commercially he was known as" Jas.," conventionally as "James," but familiarly as " J e m m y . " In the by-gone times he was always one ofthe foremost in getting up a birth-night or assembly ball, and was one of the few, who, by tact and caution,sailed clear of the financial maelstrom of 1841-3, within whose seething vortex so m a n y mercantile craftfoundered. Walking d o w n the hill northward, we reach the Yarra ferry, the second oldest on the river,and pass right on to the heart of unclassic Richmond. In early days this suburb was a splendid section ofgreen, undulating, well-timbered bush, and it was a favourite walk and drive with the citizens. Its primepiece was the part known as Docker's Hill, where the Rev. Joseph Docker m a d e a profitable investment, bythe purchase of no less thanfiftyacres at one of thefirstland sales in 1839. For one moiety of this hepaid ^£24 per acre, and £15 for the other. H e was mindful of the "loaves and fishes" in more than aScriptural sense. If this land were kept until the present day, and n o w cut up and sold, what a fabulousnumber of " loaves andfishes" could be bought with the proceeds! Parson Docker, however, had not thegift of prescience, for, by degrees, the hill was sold out for residence sites, and no doubt, as times went,the vendor "struck oil" pretty considerably, and reaped a luxuriant interest harvest on the original outlay.T h e township of Richmond, of some three hundred acres, was divided into twelve lots of from twenty​eight to twenty-five acres each, and the highest price fetched at the hammer was ^28, and the lowest,£13 per acre. T h e twenty-five acre lot, commencing at the corner of the Bridge and Punt roads, waspurchased by a M r . M'Nall, the chief butcher of the time, for ,£24 an acre, while the opposite one oftwenty-eight acres was knocked down to Mr. Craig, a merchant, for ^'28 per acre, and twenty-seven acresat the corner of Simpson's R o a d and East Melbourne brought only ^ 1 6 per acre. These subdivisionswere intended for Rus in urbe boxes, where the well-to-do Melbourne merchants and professionals couldretire after the worry and wear, the profit and loss, of a busy day, and smoke the calumet of peace in thebosoms of their families. It never entered into the sphere of probability that the then R i c h m o n d would, ina few years, become the great, thriving, working, hive of busy bees it is to-day. Comfortable, if notarchitecturally stylish, villas began to dot the place, and amongst the earliest Richmondites were Messrs.Campbell and Woolley, wine and spirit meichants; M r . Cavenagh, the founder of the Herald;Mr. Oco*ck, one of Melbourne's earliest solicitors (now dead); the once well-known W . B. Burnley(who died some years ago, very wealthy); the old identity, Judge P o h l m a n; "Billy Barrett,"an ancient,fidgetty,short-tempered auctioneer; M r . T h o m a s Strode, for m a n y a long year the "Father ofthe Chapel" of the Melbourne Press since 1839; M r . William Hull, J.P., and two or three others, sinceremoved from all terrestrial troubles. With the exception of Carlton and Hotham, our suburbs have beenspoiled in consequence of the way in which they have been cut up by land-jobbers, to squeeze the largestnumber possible of building lots out of them. Streets, and lanes, and places, and terraces have beenimprovised—many of them mere cuts de sac, and yards have been turned into the narrowest of thoroughfares,with the view of turning them again into as m a n y pounds as they would bring during the pressure of the goldfever, and Richmond has been everlastingly marred in this way. Every hole and corner where a house couldbe squeezed in has been utilized; and, furthermore, I do not think that Richmond was well cared for in theearly stage of its municipal endowment. For instance, I never pass the Richmond T o w n Hall withoutwondering how it ever came to be erected where it is, as such an edifice might be such an ornament andacquisition in a more central position. It is the right thing put in the wrong place; but the error cannotbe rectified, and as it pleased the rate-payers of the time to be satisfied, of course so must I, mere outsideras I am. A n d here again is the usual ill-assorted agglomeration of street names, some perpetuating welldeserved public benefactors, and others the veriest ciphers. T h e Richmondites must have been hard upfor some one or somewhere, after w h o m or which to dub their highways and byevvays, for they travelledfrom Bendigo to Berlin, from Erin to Hamburg, and away from Edinburgh to Amsterdam, appellationhunting. T h e Rose and the Shamrock are not forgotten, but the Scottish and Welsh national e m b l e m s —the Thistle and Leek are given the go-by. Religion is honoured by having one of the best streets namedafter the Church, and Lennox, thefirstSuperintendent of bridges, is in Godly company on the parallel line.Old colonists, like Sir W m . Stawell and Sir J. Palmer, Messrs. W . Hull, W . Highett, W . B. Burnley, and D.S. Campbell, are not forgotten. Prince Patrick, the D u k e of Wellington, and Neptune are comfortablyprovided for; and Lords Brougham and Lyndhurst, the great defiant and defunct Chancellors of England,are woolsacked near each other. St. James and the Lady R o w e n a are not overlooked, but surely it was anoversight not to have provided the lady with an Ivanhoe to " parade " with her. S o m e admirer of Petrarch,no doubt, suggested Vaucluse; but w h o was the printer in whose honour they proclaimed a Type Street?Melbourne's well-known town clerk, Fitzgibbon, is nDt forgotten; nor is G-orge Coppin disregarded, andshame on Richmond were it so. I must now return by Bridge Road, and look into the aristocratic quarterof East Melbourne, sanctified by ever so many religious edifices, and two Episcopal mansions. T h eoriginal boundary of old Melbourne was Spring Street, but after some time it was evident that the townwould extend in that direction. A s proposed by Mr. Hoddle, there was to be a prolongation of the streetsrunning eastward, with different names; but after some consideration it was vetoed by M r . Latrobe, w h ocompelled Hoddle, much to his annoyance, to block up the east end. A few years after, the Corporationhad a plan of extension in this quarter prepared, but it was also negatived. T h e present Fitzroy Gardensin 1839, contained a quarry, which was then worked to supply the blue-stone for the foundations'of themore substantial of the town buildings, and was, for years, a regular eyesore instead of the thin* of beautyit is now, a consummation for which m u c h praise must be given to M t . Clement Hodgkinson an exAssistant Surveyor General. According to the newly-propounded scheme, a Crescent was to be formed in ​the Gardens, and though many favoured the notion, a majority of the City Council were adverse, and it fellthrough. T h e formation of a garden was in course of time decided on, and ultimately realized. This wasw h y East Melbourne came to be laid out as it is.Very little land was sold in East Melbourne, after the place was offered for sale, but by degrees itgrew in public favour. In 1850, Bishop Perry obtained a grant of the Bishop's-court site, where a tastyedifice was soon put up; and as years rolled on, the quarter grew into m u c h d e m a n d for private residences.A s the quadrangle was select, it was only right and proper that its naming should be equally so, and thereforew e find it divided amongst a Prince, Lords, and C o m m o n e r s w h o did good service in their day, such asAlbert, Clarendon, Gipps, H o t h a m , Grey, Powlett, and Simpson—whilst it is bounded on the north andsouth by Queen Victoria and the D u k e of Wellington, and east and west by the Marquis of Lansdowneand M r . Robert Hoddle. T h e last-named, too, obtained the longest street almost by accident, and h o wthis happened is thus told by himself in his journal. H e so writes:—" In conversation with m e one day,M r . Latrobe observed that I had been very modest not to have had a street named after myself. I toldhim that unless a good, broad street was n a m e d after m e , I had rather be without one. H e jocularlyobserved, I must have a street; which street did I prefer? I told him if I must have a street, thecontinuation of Collins Street would do very well. H e wrote ' Hoddle Street,' accordingly. S o m e timeafter, in speaking about the streets, he remarked to m e , ' I suppose Judge AVillis must have a street, and, ashe is a cross old fellow, he must have a cross street.' W h e n M r . Latrobe subsequently quarrelled withJudge Willis, he erased his n a m e from the street assigned to him on the map, substituting m y n a m e onthe ' cross ' street, and erasing it from the continuation of Collins Street, and putting in its place then a m e of 'Fitzroy,' in compliment to Governor Sir Charles Fitzroy, to m y annoyance and chagrin."A n d thus it was that poor Willis (afterwards removed from the Bench) was done out of his street,and Hoddle got it, which certainly ought to have satisfied him, especially as, on the principle of sometopers going in for a long drink, he went in for a good broad street, and he had not m u c h reason tocomplain. A s it turned out, if his n a m e had remained d o w n for the continuation of Collins Street, hewould have missed the mark, for that street was not continued, and for the proposed Fitzroy Street wassubstituted the Fitzroy Gardens.AValking across the longest and finest thoroughfare of the City, I a m in what wasfirstknown asNewtown, then Collingwood, and n o w Fitzroy. This was thefirstsuburb operated upon in the way ofPublic Land Sales, and was primarily submitted to competition in blocks of about twenty-five acres each—evidently intended as a convenient place for the private residences of such of the towns-people asmight be able to live privately. T h e sale taking place so far away as Sydney, the Melbournians were, to agreat extent shut out of the market, and the consequence was that the purchasers were, with few exceptionsN e w South Welshmen. T h e land averaged about £1 per acre; and a remarkable instance of a greatbargain (if kept until to-day) is the north east corner of Nicholson Street and Victoria Parade, twenty-fiveacres of which were knocked d o w n to Hughes and Hoskins, an old Sydney mercantile firm, for £6 10s.per acre. Fancy what a nugget could be now m a d e out of these twenty-five acres at so m u c h per foot!T h e Sydney m e n speedily c o m m e n c e d to turn over the pennies, and in their anxiety to realise, the sacredallotments were very soon cut up piecemeal, and sold and farmed and rented in every possible manner forthe putting up of tenements of every conceivable kind, from the two-storied brick to the shaky weatherboard; from the "wattle-and-daub" to the bark hut, or canvas, sometimes old blanket-covered, tent. T h evilla notion vanished, and with some exceptions, the supplementary settlement presented to the spectatorone of the queerest conglomerations of habitations for m a n or beast that could be well imagined. It wascalled Newtown, and its early limits of location comprised the square from Nicholson Street to Smith Streetand from Victoria Parade to M o o r Street. N e w t o w n was changed in n a m e to Collingwood, and so remaineduntil that settlement began to advance d o w n to theflat,when the original quarter was constituted a municipalward of Melbourne and styled Fitzroy, after Sir Charles Fitzroy, a Governor of N e w South Wales,Gertrude Street was called after the daughter of a captain, whose n a m e I forget. M r . Robert Russellwrites m e that Napier Street was n a m e d in this way:—"Suburban 50, 25a, Fitzroy, was subdivided forCaptain Cole by m e in August, 1849, and he, doubtless, thought of the illustrious Sir Charles, w h o hadbeen nursed in the same cradle with himself, and after him named the street." ​If Mr. Russell's supposition be correct, it will be a white feather in the cap of Napier Street tobe nominally associated with a hero w h o fills a distinguished niche in English history. W h e n thetime came for proclaiming the streets, the members of the Melbourne Corporation accepted a grandopportunity of gaining a nominal, though very empty, immortality, for w e find no less than eight of the oldmayors placated by themselves in this way, viz., Condell, Moor, Palmer, Hodgson, Nicholson, Bell, Greeves,and Smith. Just below M o o r Street is a block, bounded by Brunswick, Greeves, Young, arid St. DavidStreets, and this is " the lost Square of Fitzroy," whose queer story is told in the chapter on the"Melbourne Corporation," and which Mr. John M ' M a h o n , the mayor for 1880-1881 (and the mostindefatigable mayor Fitzroy has ever had), has taken m u c h trouble to find. Reilly and Johnston Streetswere called after the names of two aldermen. Young Street after one of the first councillors for theWard. A private property-owner, of very Orange proclivities, took an early opportunity of dedicating twoadjoining streets—one to King William, and the other to his beloved Hanover; and a very distinguishedand respectable citizen n o w in England—William Westgarth—is perpetuated in another. Brunswick Street,at an early date, blossomed forth into a kind of quasi-aristocratic region, for it contained a few neatcottages, which were tenanted by some of the then elite. T h e house now ornamented with the prominentscroll of " Blakemount House," and whose iron gate is emblazoned with a thick brass plate inscribed withthe legend "J. R. M'Inerney, Physician and Surgeon," was the residence of Major St. John, one of ourfirst police magistrates, of w h o m strange stories, recounted in another chapter, used to be told. T h e lateMr. Justice Williams, when he started in professional life amongst us, set up in a cottage, still standing,nearly opposite the last mentioned, until recently occupied by another physician, Dr. Browning. This is thespot rendered memorable by the confession m a d e in Mr. Hartley Williams' maiden electioneering speech,some years ago, at St. Kilda, that Fitzroy can claim the high honour of being his birth-place. Mr. H .Williams is n o w a Judge on the same Bench where his father sat before him, so that one judge tenantedthis house, and another judge entered the world there. T h e once well-known Mr. J. D. Pinnock was alsoone of the fashionable "swells" that abided here. H e had arrived from Sydney with the appointment ofDeputy-Registrar of the Supreme Court, an office held by him until Port Phillip was separated. Nearthe corner of Nicholson and Palmer Streets (then unnamed), two remarkable stone twin-houses--onethe facsimile of the other—were erected for Messrs. Watson and Wight, mercantile partners, and forseveral years were occupied by them; but on the arrival of the first Sisterhood of N u n s from Ireland,in 1857, this place was considered a suitable spot for the founding of a nunnery. T h e "twins" werepurchased, passed along to other guardians, and, after various processes of extension, alteration, andimprovement, are almost unrecognisable in the comfortable, well-looking, well-ordered, Convent of Mercyof to-day.O n the subject of "nomenclature," Mr. Russell further wrote at length, t h u s: — " F e w streets inFitzroy, Collingwood, and R i c h m o n d — t h e true old suburban ground— have obtained their designation frompublic colonial men, Nicholson, Smith (John Thomas, no doubt, for it was not m y father-in-law), stepped inin lieu of plain Government roads, their predecessors. Condell slipped in when a n a m e was wanted; Kerrdethroned Argyle (if I mistake not, in suburban 83, sold 23rd October, '49, by the Bank of Australia). A ssimilarly at Richmond, Coppin transplanted Elizabeth. Again strange cases occur when the original nameis misunderstood. Thus Fraser, as n o w pasted up, takes the place of Euphrasia Street at Richmond.Large proprietors, as Otter and Docker, naturally retain a street in their o w n name.But, in general, thestreets were named when the land was cut up; and it is amusing to look back to this process. Forinstance, suburban 49, in Victoria Parade, 25 acres, Crown to T h o m a s Walker, passes to Smyth andBaxter; and 8th May, 1849, they subdivided it, and forthwith appear Brunswick and Gertrude Streets;the latter, probably, a family name; whilst the half chain road, east of Brunswick Street not having beenconsidered worthy of mention, years after is suddenly seized for, or by, the well-known David Y o u n *Next on the east on suburban 50 comes our friend Napier, and then George StreetSuburban ti again onthe east presents us with Gore Street. T h e C r o w n purchaser was T h o m a s Gore. It was claimed bvJohn Gore, 29th July, '42 by advertisem*nt; sold 8th M a y , 1850, by Captain Cole, the n a m e Gore stickingwell to it from first to last. W e then (still on the east) come to the Walmer Estate, upwards of 70acres, Crown to Sandeman and to Donaldson, which subsequently passed to M'Kil op the first ​subdivision of which, dated 15th February, 1840, was sold by Charles (known as Captain) Hutton, andhere the tide sets in strongly for m e n of note, such as Peel, Stanley, Derby, and Wellington.Nexton the eastward c o m e 4734 acres, Crown to D. S. Campbell and to Hughes and Hosking, whichpassed to Hodgson and M'Kenzie, w h o sold about 1843.Here we have Rupert and Cromwell Streets inclose fraternity to Islington Terrace, H y d e Terrace, Rokeby and Burlington Streets. Still on eastwardscame Dr. (afterwards Sir Charles) Nicholson 57, 58, and part of 59 suburbans, granted to himself and toCharles Bradly, which were subdivided by Penrose Nevins, surveyor, in 1851.Charles, William, Lithgow,Albert, and Mollison appear; names commonplace enough, but connecting with the owner, M r . Mollison,w h o managed his affairs at Port Phillip. It is not, however, until w e step over to Richmond and considersuburban 19 and 28 that w e get another haul of notabilities. These 50 acres passed into Thurlow's hands,and two subdivisions were m a d e — t h e one (probably thefirst)by Williamson, the surveyor; the otherby H . B. Foote, the surveyor. This last was acted upon, and forthwith appear the names of Brougham,Abinger, Lyndhurst, etc. Suburban 18 and 29 (which adjoin the last) take quite another character.These werefirstgranted to Brodie and to another, and passed on to Watson and Hunter, w h o subdividedand sold them.T h e R i c h m o n d flat was at that time subject to water privileges, and Neptune and CorsairStreets show a feeling in that direction, Hunter and Euphrasia Streets being their associates. Again,the suburban in which was Highett's Paddock, with its Erin and Sackville Streets, probably obtainedthis distinction through Charles Williams, the auctioneer, w h o at one time possessed a large portionof it. A n d Type Street, near the Richmond Bridge, in suburban 30, receives its facetious title, Iapprehend, from Strode, the printer, w h o held property there."It would be unpardonable for m e to pass without a word what was, until it recently vanished, theoldest two-storied house in Fitzroy, at the corner of Victoria Parade and Fitzroy Street. It was an old friendof mine, though it has put on half-a-dozen new faces since w efirstmet. It was built as a private residencefor Arthur K e m m i s , one of ourfirstmerchants, w h o did not long survive his installation there. T h e nextcomer was a keen, quiet, canny little Scotchman—Alastair M ' K e n z i e — w h o , standing well with DowningStreet, arrived in the colony with the appointment of Sheriff in his pocket, was subsequently nominatedTreasurer by the Colonial Office, and died after enjoying his higher billet and its emoluments for two orthree years. I next knew it as the "mia-mia" of jolly, good-natured J e m m y Stewart, of the firm of Brownand Stewart, wine merchants of Elizabeth Street, w h o was very m u c h liked by the old colonists, and was thebest judge of a glass of whisky in Port Phillip; but " Jamie" would just as soon give as take a nip. H efound his way into the Legislative Council, and represented the Eastern Province for a few years; but neverm a d e m u c h of a stir in public life, if I except the stunning trade he used to do with the Melbourne pubs,for the house of Brown and Stewatt was a taking one. H e died at a comparatively early age, both respectedand regretted. It was at one time rumoured that this house had a special ghost attached to it, and that theusual mysterious indications of an unearthly visitant were not wanting. If there were any truth in this hisghostship was effectually "laid" when the tenement passed to the possession of the well-known lawyer andpolitician, M r . (now Sir A.) Michie. Probably it was hearing of this that induced M r . Michie, severalyears ago, to deliver one of his eminently clever lectures on Ghosts, at the Mechanics' Institution,and possibly it was the preparation of the lecture that caused the ghost to skedaddle. T h e buildingwas afterwards devoted to the purpose of a boarding school and young women's "home."It wouldbe difficult to imagine a more irregular network o' lanes and bye-ways (they were not thoroughfares)than obtained in these times. All about and along M o o r Street, from Nicholson to Smith Streets,it was one bewildering way-maze which baffled all power of alignment until a clue was found ina ,£50,000 endowment of a Fitzroy W a r d Improvement Fund, and this was the sesame by whichthe streets were finally opened. M r . (afterwards Sir) John O'Shanassy, then a m e m b e r of theLegislative Assembly, was a powerful means of effecting this, and such a good turn should neverbe forgotten. But it was forgotten very soon, for the definition of the Plebs' gratitude ii a recollectionof favours to come.U p to 1850 Smith Street was quite a one-sided affair, and a very queer raggedregiment kind of affair too. All d o w n theflatwas a morass where one would hardly think h u m a n habitatscould ever spring up. There was an excuse for a house of some kind or other thrown up here and there,and, "though few and far between," they were anything but "angels' visits." A change began, but slowly, ​to be effected, until the golden revelations of 1851-53 changed everything. One quaint-looking two-storiedhouse, nearly opposite the Birmingham Hotel, was the " den " of John Pascoe Fawkner, and from thebalcony in front, the old lion might be seen koo-tooing to his friends, and grinning at his foes as they passedb y — a n d it was "Johnny's" lot to have friends and foes in abundance. Here the "oldest inhabitant" died,and the building turned into a toy-emporium. Mac's Hotel, nearly opposite W e b b Street, was another veryremarkable house, and cannot well be passed over in any historical reference to Smith Street. It was putup by a Scotchman, but from what ilk this special M a c hailed I cannot n o w say. Though the M a c haspassed away, the hotel remains, and if its unwritten memoirs could be compiled, m a n y strange yarns couldbe twisted out of them. It was the great focus of m a n y of the agitations by which the Collingwoodites usedto be convulsed. It was the head quarters of Stumperdom, for there was an open space in front, and anopen space in rear, where the so-called great mass meetings used to be held—and stumping exhibited inperfection. Those gatherings used to eclipse the Eastern Market ones of after years, for this was the grandtraining ground of the agitators; and it was quite a treat to hear the Dons, the M'Minns, the Murphys, theOsbornes, and the Scotchmeres of the age exercising themselves. A roaring trade in " r u m " and " twoales" used to be driven at the tavern bar where the "calls" were incessant on a stump night. Times,however, have changed, and there has been a change of venue in the meetings in consequence of thestonewaliers and bricklayers having eradicated the stumps; and " Mac's " has since had to run through theusual vicissitudes of modern taverns, and take to its bosom as " lord and master," the good, the bad, anflthe indifferent. Presuming upon the consent of whoever m a y n o w be doing the Boniface, let us(metaphorically) ascend to the roof of the hotel, and behold some of the surroundings of the neighbourhoodof old Melbourne, and note some of the changes they have passed through. T h e "flat" has undergone atransformation at the hands of the builder, and active enterprise and thriving industry go together.Glancealong the sinuous Yarra's verge from bridge to bridge, and you behold factories and breweries, and spacioushotels, and miles of streets, big and little, built upon and kerbed and macadamised, where a few years agom o b s of blacks, and flocks of sheep, and the herdsmen and their cattle used to roam about. There isStudley Park, looking well enough to-day, but it was positively grand in the primitive times, when it was thewild bush, and free from the improving touches of civilization. It was one time rented by John Hodgson,w h o let it out as a grazing paddock at so m u c h per head per week.But Hodgson went the way ofall flesh, and his place was held by Mr. T h o m a s Halfpenny, as Government Ranger, until he retiredin 1887.T h e Park is n o w a place of public recreation.This is the same "Halfpenny" w h o wasonce thought to have risked his life by camping in Collins Street in 1836. Possibly in his solitary parkrambles he often sighs for the never-to-return days when, though but a " Halfpenny," he managed to turn ino himself many a penny, shilling and pound in the "William Tell," one of the oldest of hostelries, whichonce stood in Collins Street, near the Queen Street corner, on portion of the present ^ 6 0 , 0 0 0 site ofthe English and Scottish Chartered Bank. History tells us the Yarra Falls in Melbourne, the originalciossing-place for stock, was dangerous, and once upon a time, twenty-six head were drowned there;and great was the joy of Gardiner when he found the "Falls" near Studley Park m u c h safer for hissheep and bullocks. A Mr. Dight had a large paddock here, n o w cut up for sale with a square outof the centre for the use of the residents. These " Falls" were a favourite haunt of the aborigines, anda great fishing station for the early citizens, for herring was taken in large numbers at certain periods ofthe year.T h e laying of the foundation-stone of thefirstJohnston Street Bridge was quite an event in EastCollingwood many years ago. T h e day wasfine,there was an immense gathering, and after the performanceof the usual ceremonies, a sumptuous spread was served at the residence of M r . J. Orr in theneighbourhood. There was a grand procession too, and Major John Hodgson, at the head of theVolunteers, and Mr. J. J. Moody, the T o w n Clerk, w h o wielded great Civic authority over the civilianelement, were worth looking at. T h e vicinity of the bridge is n o w m u c h altered-some of it for the worseand some very m u c h for the better. In the bend of the river, to the south, were the grounds and villa ofSt. Heliers, the residence of Mr. Edward Curr, one of the ablest and best known, though not most popular,m e n of Ins day. St. Hehers in course ot tune, disappeared, and a worthier substitute occupies its place inthe Convent of the nuns of the f o o d Shepherd with "the tinkling of the silver bell, and he L e s holy ​hymn." T h e district of Fitzroy-«/w-Collingwood m a y well be proud of the fact of having the two chiefConvents in the colony within its boundaries—each placed like a sentinel on the Eastern and Westernfrontiers. It is very amusing h o w some of the East Collingwood streets have been named. I a m fond ofharping on street nomenclature, because I think I see in it an indication of the public taste or feeling ofthe time. Smith Street, as I have said, was called after the once potent civic m a g n a t e — " John T h o m a s "— a n d then w e have such names as Sackville, Regent, Oxford, and Cambridge, which, when comparedwith their name-sakes in British Capitals, are most laugh-provoking. W e have Easy Street after a long"easy" going auctioneer of that n a m e; Perry Street, but whether after a bishop or another auctioneer,I cannot say. W e have Peel, and Derby and Stanley Streets appropriately enough—and the greatD u k e of Wellington is honoured with a very long street, which, if not " ironed" is always tolerablywell metalled; but with execrably bad taste, w e have a narrow, lanky, miserable-looking lane, calledNapoleon Street, I suppose intended to convey a relative estimate of the military capacity of bothheroes. Grim Oliver Cromwell, the gay and dashing Prince Rupert, and poetic Rokeby, are shuntedoff into an out-of-the-way, and not very salubrious, locality. In another place we have a street called" G o l d " where things certainly do not look very golden, and there is a Ballarat Street, which is evidentlya nominal relic of the auriferous era—when no people were more bitten by the gold mania than thoseof East Collingwood.T h e region lying between the famous Reilly Street drain and the Merri Creek was bare, barren, andstony, if we except the portion n o w known as Clifton Hill; and as bluestone began to be required forbuilding purposes, the pick, and the crowbar, and the shovel went to w o r k — a n d so originated that networkof quarry holes that used to be found everywhere here, many of which have been recentlyfilledup. Hencethe suburb known so long as " T h e Quarries," and extending along the Merri Creek and on to Brunswick.T h e sites of the Heidelberg and Northcote Bridges were the natural crossing places; and the Hill justbeyond Northcote Bridge is historical, for it was there Batman entered into his celebrated treaty with theaborigines. It was for a long time surmised that building enterprise would never penetrate to any extentbeyond the sickly Reilly Street drain. This due northern region was the most unpleasant of thesurroundings of Melbourne; the cold north wind in winter and the hot wind in summer, producedclimatic variations anything but agreeable. O n e was either half-drowned or half-baked, and between m u dand dust, and wet and heat, you could hardly dream that homes and hearths could have an abiding placethere. In a comparatively shoit time, however, the auctioneer's h a m m e r knocked all such imaginings topieces; the land was placed in the market, and then did not land jobbers reap a golden harvest? I h eresult, as n o w seen, is that quite a town sprang up as if by magic, and Fitzroy is fast being linked toNorthcote and Brunswick. In the nomenclature of North Fitzroy, the Fitzroy Council had their turn innaming after themselves, and the streets are called after a swarm of municipal nobodies. There are a fewnotable exceptions—for w e have long M ' K e a n running head foremost into little Langton, and phlegmaticGeorge Harker plodding the same way as mercurial T o m Rae. A n d then, as a sort of royal centre-piece,there are the D u k e of Edinburgh's Gardens, while H.R.H.'s distinguished boon-companions, York andNewry, are not forgotten.I must n o w rapidly keep moving, and ask m y readers to clap on all steam and accompanym e across by what was the Prisoners' Stockade, afterwards a branch Lunatic Asylum, and n o wa State School; and skirting along by the fence of the Necropolis, where some hundred thousandh u m a n beings have found a resting place in thirty years, w e stand on the highest spot of the palaeozoichill on which the greater part of Carlton is built. Looking around you, compare it as it nowr is with whatit was not m a n y years ago, when all the country around by the Royal Park and the other Hill of H o t h a mrevealed a vista of hill and dale, well wooded and grassed, well suited for a delightful rambling excursion.T h e perspective n o w is an untold treasure, planted in the soil, and cropping up in splendid mansionshandsome villas, busy marts, spacious streets, squares, parks, and gardens, and stately churches—all thesepractical evidences of civilization" W h e r e flourished once a forest fair."

Carlton and H o t h a m were once known by the general designation of North Melbourne, and the oldSupreme Court building was quite out of town. I well remember when jurymen and suitors, during the ​adjournment of the court, instead of poking themselves into some neighbouring tavern to crack hardbiscuits and drink bad beer, used to betake themselves to the " b u s h " at the rear of the gaol, where, subiegmine fa*gi, they enjoyed their lunch in quiet comfort, s ne present exceptionally superior appearance ofthose suburbs, as compared with other localities, m a y be attributed to the relatively late period when thegreater part of the land was sold, and the judgment evinced by the land speculators in subdividing theirpurchases. "When a large portion of Carlton and H o t h a m was put into the market, numbers of people w h ohad saved m o n e y from the early gold years (and better still, knew h o w to keep it), invested it there toadvantage. A taste also gradually grew up for dwellings with the comfort and conveniences of English life,and to such causes are to be traced the superior style of building, very generally prevailing. Municipalself-government was likewise a powerful agent and improver, and m u c h as w e m a y occasionally grumble atthe fantastic tricks of Mayors and Councillors, no really impartial observer will be unwilling to accord thema very large share of credit for the substantial benefits they have conferred upon their respective districts,by the generally intelligent and efficient manner in which they have performed their corporate duties. Itused to be said of the old unreformed English and Irish Corporations that "they bad neither bodies to bekicked nor souls to be damned;" and this was, to a great extent,figurativelytrue, for they were regularsinks of jobbery and corruption. But, taken as a whole, our o w n Municipal Institutions have been a greatsuccess, and no candid writer can fairly allege otherwise. T h efirstm e m b e r of the regular villa family inCarlton was the residence of Sir R e d m o n d Barry, w h o removed there from a small comfortable two-storiedhouse in Russell Street. T h e villa has been purchased as an hospital for sick children,and it is a transitionof an amusing kind—to have the once so-much-admired semi-rural retreat turned into an infantileinfirmary. Speaking of hospitals, mention should be m a d e of the Lying-in Hospital (how m u c h better tochange it for the more appropriate appellation of Maternity Institution), whose foundation originatedwith Dr. John M a u n d , w h o died m a n y years ago.I cannot leave Carlton without paying a compliment to the street nomenclators for the improvedtaste they have displayed in their street-naming of the more modern part of it. T h e public thoroughfaresare mated with names famed in story, for amongst them are some of the giant intellects of Britain meetlyrecognised, e.g. statesmanship in Pitt and Palmerston, administrative ability in Elgin, oratory in Grattan andCanning, science in Faraday, O w e n , and Murchison, whilst our o w n Macarthur, Kay, and Neil are notforgotten; and though last not least, in its far north, Shakspeare holds a place. T h e older portion of it,eastward of the Carlton boundary line towards Elizabeth Street is, with the exception of D r u m m o n d Street,misnamed, and what on earth could have induced the naming of one of the two knock-kneed streetsstarting from the University, after such a symmetrically well-built m a n as Sir R e d m o n d Barry? H o t h a mis m u c h more prolific in the clarum et venerabile nomen line, for there w e have quite an extensivecommingling of English, Irish, Scotch, and Colonial worthies. W e have streets called after Peel, Erskine,O'Connell, Shiel, Curran, Macaulay, Adderly, Arden, Brougham, O'Shannassy, Molesworth, Cobden, Haines,Chapman, Murphy, and, though last, not the least of the bunch—clever, slippery Richard Ireland, who, ifhis application had equalled his ability, would have had no superior either at our Bar or in our Senate.Leaving Hotham, and passing on to a sort of boundary mark dignified by the n a m e of Railway Place, letm e glance across the railway lines, far over the S w a m p to the opposite Saltwater River—aboriginally knownas the M irring-gnay-bir-nong— formerly lined with a dense scrub, but n o w invaded by abattoirs andfactories of all descriptions, and flanked on the other side by the rising town of Footscray. It is nowstyled the West Melbourne S w a m p , but every one in days of yore called it Batman's. It ought to becalled Higinbotham, because the eminent railway engineer of that n a m e changed its surroundings verymuch, and certainly not for the better. Look at it now, and read the following account of its primitivestate, when seen by Batman, and thus described by him . — " I crossed on the banks of the river a largemarsh about one mile and a half wide, by three or four miles long, of the richest description of soil—not atree. W h e n w e got on the marsh, the quails began tofly,and I think, at one time, I can safely say I sawa thousand quailflyingat one time—quite a cloud. I never saw anything like it before I shot two largeones as I walked along. At the upper end of the marsh is a large lagoon. I should think from thedistance I saw that it was upwards of a mile across, and full of swans, ducks and geese " This waspenned upwards offiftyyears ago, and pondering over the n o w and the then, one must'acknowledge ​the prophetic truth, if he cannot admire the poetic afflatus, of an anonymous Collins Street rhymer, who on the 14th February, 1839, worked off the following effusion for the benefit of an admiring community:—

The "mighty state" and the "brighter day" have come — but, where is the bard?