The Chronicles of Early Melbourne/Volume 2/Chapter 40
CHAPTER XL.
THE MELBOURNE INN-KEEPERS AND THE LICENSING MAGISTRATES.
SYNOPSIS:— The Early Liquor Lazos. —The First Hotel. —"Johnny" Fawkner, the First Grog Monopolist. —The Fawknerian Dicta. —Demolition of Fawkner's Groggery. —Fawkner's Second Hotel. —Locale of Fawkner's First Newspaper. —Melbourne Hotels. —Synopsis of the Licensing Law. —"Sticking Plasters." —The Counter Lunch. —The Dead House. —Halfpenny, the First Whisky-seller. —Melbourne Hotels in 1840-42. —"John Barleycorn." —Licensing Beach Vagaries. —Official Corruption. —The Pressman bribes the Major. —Vale Major St. John. —Panegyric on the Licensed Victuallers.
THERE is, perhaps, no more amusing, though intricate study, than an investigation of the primitive legalized grog-selling in New South Wales, of which, when a penal colony, Port Phillip was a part and parcel. The first notification is contained in the Sydney Gazette, and dated "Government House, 1st October, 1800." Under this no person was allowed to sell spirituous liquors, and any person landing spirits or wines from any ship without a written permit from the Governor, was subject to the pains and penalties of selling without a license. On the 27th October an Order was issued authorizing the Magistrates to recommend persons suitable to hold annual licenses, and on the 1st November gambling and drunkenness were prohibited in public-houses, and no liquor could be sold between the drummer's evening tattoo" and the next day's sunlight. On the roth April, 1801, an Ordinance was promulgated commanding public-houses not to open on Sundays from dawn of day until 9 p.m. Subsequently annual licenses were granted from the 1st November by the Justices, when a publican was bound in recognizances as to good behaviour of two bailmen of £10 each, and himself in £20. Any unlicensed grog-vendor incurred not only fine and imprisonment, and a forfeiture of his stock-in-trade, but the house could be pulled down about his ears. By an Act passed on the 8th February, 1825, by the Governor-in-Council, no person could sell malt, spirituous, or fermented liquors, in less quantities than five gallons, without a license, grantable by the Justices in Quarter Sessions, and not valid unless approved by the Justice residing nearest to the house to be licensed. The applicant should also be provided with certificates of recommendation from the Minister of the Church of England, should there be one officiating in the district, the Chief-Constable, and three respectable householders. This worked so inconveniently that it was soon repealed. It is an almost incredible fact that in that barbarous age the British currency was ignored in the licensing system, as 100 dollars formed the premium for a spirits and beer license, and 20 dollars for the beer privilege singly.
By an Act, 7 George IV., No. 2 (20th February, 1826), the publican's general license was charged £25 per annum, and the Governor was empowered to determine the number of licenses to be granted in each town; and by Clause 15 it enacted "That whenever a Coroner's Jury shall find that a death has been caused by intoxication in a public-house, the keeper of such house shall be deemed from the date of such finding to be unlicensed, and no new license shall be granted to him." In October, 1835, the law was amended, authorizing one qualified Justice to grant licenses.
Such was the state of the Licensing law in 1836, when the "Settlement," now known as Melbourne, began gradually to expand, and that unvarying concomitant of civilization, a public-house, became not only a desideratum, but a necessary evil. To fill the vacuum the inevitable "Johnny" Fawkner was prepared to offer his services; but the difficulty was how to obtain a license. The Police Magistrate (Captain Lonsdale), a timid martinet, unwilling to risk any consequences he could not foresee, was reluctant to grant the Magisterial certificate upon which a license could issue from the Sydney Treasury and even had he done so there was a difficulty which absolutely rendered the issue of a publican's license a legal impossibility. The Act required that after the granting of a certificate recommending a license, such certificate, with the £25 license fee, should be received at the Sydney Treasury within fourteen days after date, and in the then irregular and slow-going sailing transit between Port Phillip and Sydney, this indispensable could not be complied with. Practically, then, the law was a dead letter, or rather there was no law, and there could be no legalized retail liquor traffic. This state of things, therefore, was growing intolerable. The Yarra water was at times so unpalatable that the brackish fluid would be all the better for a mixture with a little aqua vitæ. There was no want of grog wholesale in some of the stores, but what was the use of this for people longing for "nips." The grocers could not yet sell "single bottles;" nor any one in quantities under five gallons. The people were Maine Liquor-lawed, ex necessitate, but as Necessity has no law," the would-be rum and beer bibbers grew discontented. Fawkner at last declared he would face the emergency, and chivalrously opened a public-house. He could not be said to be a "sly "-grog seller, for there was no slyness about what he did; and it could hardly be said that he violated any law, for there was no law practically in existence. He became in fact what might be termed "an innkeeper on sufferance," and he so continued until others announced that they should do likewise. The Police Magistrate did not well know how to act in such an awkward conjuncture, but he awoke slowly to the expediency of granting license certificates, though in law not worth the paper they were written on. In this manner "Johnny" Fawkner and a couple of others were "certificated," though "unlicensed" publicans, out of which arose a dilemma to be removed only by a Bill of Indemnity, and consequently, in September, 1837, the Legislature of New South Wales passed an Act validating the licenses irregularly issued upon the Port Phillip certificates, and discharging the holders from any penalties incurred. The Police Magistrate at Melbourne was also empowered to grant regular licenses, instead of having a roundabout recourse to head-quarters.
The First Hotel.
Fawkner's Tavern was built on a portion of the Custom House Reserve, rearward of the present building, towards the intersection of William and Little Flinders Streets, on about the spot long used as a telegraph office. The place was then the side of a green hill, gently sloping towards the river. The house was erected of quartering and broad palings, with a half-paling, half-shingle roof and hard-wood flooring. It was more properly one-and-a-half than two-stories in height, for the second or upper compartment was an attic, subdivided into bedrooms or "sleeping ovens," close enough in winter, but stuffy, stifling, and almost unendurable in the hot season. The ground floor contained six apartments or divisions, the front quarter facing the river was specially reserved for the accommodation of the most respectable customers. The bar was at the back, and over the door was elevated a signboard, on which was daubed rather than painted a row of large unevenly-sized, ill-proportioned letters, which a stranger after some hesitation deciphered to be Fawkner's Hotel. This hostelry was for a time largely patronized, for that very best of reasons that there was no other place to go to; and Fawkner (who in after years was wont to inveigh loudly against anything savoring of monopoly) was then the sole grog monopolist in the country. Here he established a queer sort of table d'hôte (or, as he translated it, "table hotty "), over which he invariably presided himself, and in distributing the viands he was not only capricious but peremptory. One had to take whatever the host gave him, fat or lean, under or over done; the whimsical taste of the carver was alone consulted, and if any eater dared to have a choice or opinion or taste of his own, the knife and fork were twirled in his face, and he was snarlingly told that if he did not like what he got (though too good for him) he had better clear out and go elsewhere, the irascible little Boniface being well aware that his elsewhere" meant "nowhere." Never was there a more inflexible adherence to the well-known adage of de gustibus non est disputandum, for no parleying was permitted, and there was no appeal. But there was a more unpalatable accompaniment. Fawkner indulged in an incessant chatter upon the few public topics of the time, and as his views occasionally took very peculiar turns, and his temperament was not the most tolerant, he would brook no contradiction; the Fawknerian dicta should be gulped down with the eatables and drinkables, and if a wry face were made, an expression of dissent uttered, or a negative head-shake ventured at, the knife and fork pantomime, an invitation "to make tracks" was the result, and direct personal abuse was resorted to. Take the following as a laughable illustration which I had from one of the actors:—Mr. W. F. A. Rucker, the second earliest of the commercial world of Melbourne, used to dine every day at Fawkner's public table, and on one occasion "Johnny" would only give him a certain part of a joint to which he knew Rucker had an antipathy, and when the latter begged to be helped to something else, Fawkner "ho hoed" and laughed in his face, declaring that what he had been offered was good enough for him, and not a bite of anything else should he have even if he starved. Rucker rose and quitted the room, and had a tent rigged up as a personal board and lodging house on a convenient slice of the wharf. The next day was very hot, windy, and dusty, and whilst Rucker was discussing a chop dinner under canvas, a tremendous squall came rolling along over the hills, and taking the tent at the rear, swept it and the limited prandial appliances into the river, the proprietor having much difficulty in clearing himself of the disjecta membra, and so escaping, if not a possible drowning, an absolute ducking. Recovering his legs he beheld with regret his appetizing grill disappear to feast the fishes, and with a sigh was obliged to confess that after all, bad as Fawkner's menu was, a hungry man might go further and fare worse. He went back, made his peace with the hotelkeeper (always easily mollified), and remaining there with meek resignation, took "Johnny's" pot-luck without a murmur until he was able to procure more comfortable quarters.
Fawkner was not long the only Licensed Victualler. Fawkner's Hotel, (some of the materials for which had been fashioned in Van Diemen's Land and imported for the purpose) was thrown together by the rough bush carpenters or handy men of the time, and was little more than a clumsy and comfortless booth. It was put up on a piece of Government land "jumped" for the occasion before a scrap of the township was sold. In 1837, Fawkner visited Launceston, leaving the "hotel" in charge of a friend named Evans, and several acres of wheat nearly fit for the sickle, between the Yarra and Emerald Hill. "Johnny" had no sooner turned his back on Port Phillip than Evans sublet to one Smith, who was determined "to have and to hold" the premises against all comers, the redoubtable Fawkner included. Smith also appropriated the crop of golden corn, and by aid of some of the military, who were allowed at times to do odd jobs of work for the civilians, had it reaped and stooked. On Fawkner's return, Smith refused not only to admit him, but point blank declined to give up the premises. The land was "no man's territory," and until the Government chose to turn him out he would not budge an inch. No law of ejectment as yet ran in the district, and in such a case, "possession" which is said to constitute "nine points of law," where land laws are in operation, was everything here. Fawkner blustered and raged, snarled and swore, but all to no purpose. Smith for the time had the whip hand of him. Fawkner at length corked up the residuum of his wrath, apparently "bested," but mentally vowing he would have another try for what he believed to be his legally perhaps not, but in equity assuredly. Two or three nights after, the place was stormed by Fawkner at the head of a band of Van Diemonian sympathizers, well primed with rum, who assailed the stronghold as if they were so many battering rams, and for a time it was thought the whole concern would collapse and be the grave of its defenders. Smith, apprehensive that he should have to stand a siege, was not quite unprepared, having a strong defensive force, and after some hours' sharp work (in which there were several cut heads, bruised limbs, and damaged faces, but no killed), the Fawknerians, by escalading the windows forced their way into the parlour. Fawkner then had this place so securely barricaded against ingress, as to render it unassailable except by fire-a measure which Smith could not resort to without destroying the whole concern. Next morning, after leaving an armed guard in possession, "Johnny" with the rest of his retainers sallied over the river, and brought as many of the corn sheaves with them as would more than half fill the parlour. In this improvised barn he set a couple of threshers to work, who were to be relieved by relays of fresh flailers, and they were to hammer away day and night without intermission, making as much noise as possible. The din was increased by the loud babblement of the crowd that gathered outside to listen to the fun, and the result was that Smith, anxious to escape the probable horrors of a lunatic asylum, vacated the tenement, and Fawkner was reinstated by stratagem. But Smith had his revenge in another and unexpected manner. Mr. Henry Batman had laid down in the Market Square the wooden framework of a house, in which he resided for a short time. He sold this to Smith, who had it removed across the street, where it formed the foundation of the Lamb Inn, a tavern which soon acquired a popularity which seriously damaged Fawkner's business. A sensational end awaited Melbourne's first "groggery." The Government required the reserve where it stood, for the erection of a Custom-house, and in order to part peaceably with Fawkner, the tenement was purchased for £100, with the stipulation that Fawkner was not to re-build there. The materials, subsequently sold to someone else, were re-constructed in Market Street, and rented by Blanche, a gunsmith. On the 24th December, 1839, the Sporting Emporium," as it was called, was blown up by the accidental ignition of some powder carelessly laying on the counter, and produced the horrible tragedy described in a former chapter.
Fawkner's Second Hotel.
At the second Melbourne Government land sale (1st November, 1837), Fawkner became the owner for £10 of the half-acre allotment at the south-east corner of Collins and Market Streets, on which he put up a wooden and brick building for an hotel, and on the erection of what was afterwards the Club House at the corner, the old affair was turned into the printing office where the Patriot was published for many years. The Club House was subsequently metamorphosed into the Shakespeare, and after numerous amplifications reappears now before the public as the Union Club Hotel.
Fawkner's Hotel was in its day the principal place of entertainment in town, and No. 2 was a vast improvement (though that is not saying much) architecturally, and from every point of view, on No. 1. Yet this old-forgotten inn has associated with it two historical reminiscences, for which the most pretentious hotel of to-day would wish for in vain. It was here, on the 1st January, 1838, Fawkner started the first newspaper, not printed, but written, in the colony—The Melbourne Advertiser; and here was made the first attempt, humble enough in its way, to form our first reading-room. Though Fawkner had little of the litterateur about him, he was a voracious reader, and one of his hobbies was to affect to provide good pabulum for the mind, and corporeal and intellectual refreshments were therefore served up at the hotel. For the grosser aliment 1s. per drink was charged, and a free read was thrown in as ballast. The Melbourne Advertiser will be more fully noticed elsewhere, but from its first number (the only one in existence) I have copied the following literary curiosity. It is in Fawkner's penmanship; the etymology and punctuation are also his, and it is the first advertisement of the kind issued in Port Phillip:—
FIRST ESTABLISHED HOTEL IN MELBOURNE.
FAWKNER'S HOTEL
Supplies to The Traveller and Sogourner
All the usual requisites of a Boarding House and Hotel of the very best Quality
Being mostly laid in from the First Mercantile House in Cornwall V D Land
In addition to which there will be found Mental Recreation of a High Order
There are provided 7 English and 5 Colonial Weekly Newspapers
Seven British Monthly Magazines Three Quarterly British Reviews up to July and August 1837
A very choise Siliction of Books encluding Novels Poetry Theology History Philosophy Chemistry &c.
N. B. A late Encylopidia
The use of Any of these Works will be free to the Lodgers at the Above Hotel.
The two great weaknesses, or perhaps rather strong points, in Fawkner's composition (and he was a voluminous newspaper writer) were a desire to "capitalize" immoderately, and rarely to put down the brake from start to finish. As for colons, semi-colons, and such trifles he would not condescend to notice them. At periods he was even reluctant to make a stop, and skipped over them oftener than otherwise.
In 1838 there were 8 Licensed Victuallers in the Province, viz., 7 in the town and 1 in the interior. The names of those original Bonifaces were:—Melbourne—J. P. Fawkner, Fawkner's Hotel, Collins Street; William Smith, the Lamb Inn, Collins Street; Thomas Halfpenny, the William Tell, Collins Street; Michael Carr, the Governor Bourke, Little Flinders Street; Michael Pender, the Shamrock, Little Flinders Street; J. H. Umpleby, the Angel Inn, Collins and Queen Streets; William Harper, the British Hotel, William Street. The Goulburn River—John Clark, the Travellers' Rest. The population of Port Phillip was then 3500, including 430 women and children, which would give one tavern for about every 440 individuals. In August 1882, there were in Victoria 4312 publicans' licenses, beside 317 grocers', and 79 for the sale of colonial wine; and assuming the population at 900,000, there would be a Licensed Victualler for every 200 persons, including women and children, of whom there was an infinitely larger proportion than in 1838.
Little Flinders Street was considered the best business thoroughfare in the olden time, but a few years witnessed a great change. Mr. Michael Pender was the first to open a small sod-built public-house there, wherein he laid the foundation of a large fortune. Bonwick describes him as coming from Launceston "an industrious, saving man, who brought over one of the earliest bullock teams, which he employed in cutting, carting, and selling bush hay at a load. His wife then attended to the inn." The same Pender bought a half-acre of land running from Collins Street to Little Flinders Street, for £19. On the frontage to the latter street he erected his Shamrock, and on the Collins Street part was built in after years the Royal Hotel, subsequently re-named the Criterion, and now the site of the Union Bank. Pender acquired a large quantity of valuable city property, and continued through life "a saving and industrious man." He had three sons-in-law at one time established in public-houses, and he died some years ago, leaving a good circle of grandchildren to inherit his well-earned and well-minded wealth. The Governor Bourke was situated in Little Flinders Street, at the corner of the now Bond Street, whilst Harper's British Hotel was in William Street, near the southern corner of Little Flinders Street. Halfpenny's William Tell was in the first instance a wattle-and-daub cottage hovel where the Theatre Royal now flourishes; but the stand was then so bad for business, in consequence of its distance in the bush, that he took the earliest opportunity of having his license transferred to another one-story holding on the eastern portion of "The Block," within a few yards of Queen Street. Halfpenny has outlived all his contemporaries by many years, and his colonial career has been one of exceptional activity. "Disbarring" himself about 1847, he obtained the appointment of Chief-Constable at the Wimmera, then a wild and boundless district.
A queer quaint-looking building was put up off Collins Street, rearward of the Bank of New South Wales, and it was called the Royal Exchange. It was subsequently moved out in an enlarged brick form on a line with the street, and kept first by a Mr. Davies, and subsequently by a mercurial sort of Scotchman named Campbell. At the north-eastern junction of Queen and Collins Streets, a Mr. Umpleby kept a tavern rather inappropriately named the Angel, and the Royal Highlander was opened in Queen Street (western side, half-way between Little Collins and Collins Streets) by an individual of the very un-Highland, though not un-kelt ish name of "Jemmy Connell." It was afterwards moved to the "wharf," under the management of a thorough Scotchman known as "John Shanks." As not irrelevant to the subject under treatment, it may be worth while to present the first printed advertisement for an hotel tenant. It is extracted from the Melbourne Advertiser, 9th April, 1838, and thus reads:—
TO LET,
For a period of five years, those handsome premises known as the Angel Inn, situate at the corner of Queen and Collins Streets, containing 3 parlours, 4 bedrooms, hall, billiard room 35ft. by 20ft., and 16ft. high, 3 upstairs rooms—all furnished in the first possible style—tap-room 30ft. by 12ft., large kitchen and oven, with servant's room, out-buildings, &c. To be let with furniture to a respectable tenant for £250 a year, payable quarterly, but good security would be required.
For such a promising investment, which looked much better on paper than in reality, I am unable to record whether or not an eligible offer with a secured rental was obtained.
Such might be styled the original taverns of Melbourne, the majority of them being built of wood and brick or wattle-and-daub, with coarse shingle roof covering, brick or clay chimneys, and planked or slabbed, and sometimes earthen, floors. As the number increased, improvements were gradually introduced both in the construction and furnishing, and substantial two-story premises soon put in an appearance. The builders were not over particular in working to the street line, and the houses would be thrown up not only feet, but yards in from what was afterwards a footway; a place supposed to be at a street corner or in a particular street would be perched on a plot of open ground some distance from both. The tavern-keepers were partial to swinging sign-boards as the most effectual mode of signalling to the passers-by by day, as the guttering sickly tallow or oil lamp did by night.
On the 26th September, 1838, the Act of Council 2 Vic. 1 No. 18 was passed, and commenced operations on 1st January, 1839. By it the license fees were:—For general license, £30; night license, to keep open after 9 p.m. until 12, £10; billiard table, £10; retailing wine and beer, £10; ginger or spruce beer, £2; and £1 for selling on board a steamer on its passage. All licenses were to be granted in Petty Sessions in April, and to date from the 1st July of each year. Transfers between different persons or houses might be made at other times, as well as pro tem. to fairs, races, and places of amusement, but at no greater distance than ten miles, if out of the district of the licensed person. No publican could, under a penalty, have in or about his house any skittle ground, or ball court, or any dice, cards, bowls, billiards, quoits, or other implements used in gaming, or permit the use or exercise of such or other unlawful game; but the holder of a billiard license might allow the game to be played all the year round, except on Sunday, Good Friday, and Christmas Day.
Sunday trading was permitted from 1 to 3 p.m. only as regarded the sale of fermented liquors. No spirits could be legally vended, but beer might be bought for consumption off the licensed premises, where nothing could be drank. Good Friday and Christmas Day were subject to similar restrictions. The non-consumption proviso used to be frequently evaded by fellows bringing out their foaming pewters into the streets, and then and there absorbing the contents. The Sabbath trading soon came to be as great a farce as it is now. All public-houses might remain open from 4 a.m. to 9 p.m. from 1st October to 31st March, and from 6 a.m. to 9 p.m. during the other six months of the year; holders of night licenses to keep open until 12 o'clock; and the sale of spirits out of Melbourne was prohibited. If a publican sold liquor to a married person whose intemperance was known to be of injury to his family, he was liable to a penalty of £5, and the same consequence followed the allowing of wages to be paid in the hotel, or the selling or serving grog to prisoner servants, except medicinally or by the permission of the master, and even then only to the extent of half a gill (glass) in six hours, or one gill in twenty-four hours. Any person giving intoxicating liquors to an Aborigine was liable to a £5 fine. There was also a heavy ascending scale of punishment for drunkards. A first offence was punishable with a fine of from 5s. to 20s., or, as alternatives, not more than twenty-four hours' solitary confinement on bread and water, or a twist on the treadmill not to exceed twelve hours. Repeated offences received augmented punishment upon each successive conviction, not exceeding in the whole the amount or period specified, multiplied by the number of convictions. Thus, for a twentieth appearance, an incorrigible drunkard could be fined £20, and on non payment either twenty days' solitary or half the time "milling."
Every publican should keep a two-burner lamp constantly lighted over his tavern door from sunset to sunrise, or pay from £1 to £5 for every default, unless it could be proved that the extinction was caused by accident or boisterous weather; and every licensed house should contain two sitting and two sleeping rooms plus the appartments required for family occupation, together with stabling, hay, corn, or other "wholesome or usual provender," sufficient for at least six horses of travellers. There was likewise a provision for preventing any offence against decency, and, should any of these requirements be discontinued, two or more Justices had power to void the license. No tavern could have ingress or egress except in the street or streets named in the license, and the permission of any other passage or entrance cancelled the privilege. No liquors adulterated or mixed with deleterious ingredients could be sold under a fine of from £10 to £50, and publicans were to have their names legibly painted in three-inch letters, with the description of the license held, constantly and permanently remaining, and plainly to be seen and read on a conspicuous part of the house. Such were some of the principal provisions of the then Act; in addition to which certain customs were rigidly observed, which worked well, and would do even better at the present day. These were so recognized by public opinion that a Magistrate, in other respects corrupt enough, would not dare to disregard them. For instance, no license would be issued for "dead men's shoon," and persons who married publicans' widows could not trade under the name of the buried husband, as is now the case (1882). I could point out hotels in Melbourne where a dead man's name has been paraded over the doorway for nearly twenty years, and a second publican husband has been thriving on the mouldering bones for more than one-half that time. If a widow applied for the renewal of a license of her "dear departed" in the olden time she would get it, but if she coupled again, the dead would be so far respected that the new husband's name should go up on the signboard instead of the old one. That interesting and far from uncommon specimen of humanity, vulgarly denominated a "grass," but more properly termed a "grace" widow, would, during the voluntary or compelled absence of her worse half, vainly seek the distinction of a Licensed Victualleress, for she would have no chance of it. No bachelor or spinster could obtain a license, and I was present on occasions in the Police Court when such applications were postponed to afford parties (male or female) an opportunity of tying the nuptial knot. After a week, a fortnight, or longer, had elapsed the adjourned hearing would be resumed, and, on the Bench receiving satisfactory assurance of the performance of the marriage contract, the license would be granted. No husband or wife living apart would have the slightest chance of being publicans, and no married man would be allowed to hold a license and engage in any other established business or calling, leaving his wife to conduct the hotel. At the present time (1882) in this colony individuals are in the Commission of the Peace—sleeping partners in taverns of which their wives are licensees; and one of these hostesses has recently been convicted of Sunday trading, in which the J.P. Benedict so misbehaved as to compel his withdrawal from the Magistracy. Such a scandal under the old system was reduced to an impossibility. Furthermore, no person could hold a license for more than one hotel, and the public-house "farming," now "run" by brewers and wholesale spirit sellers, which tends so much to demoralize the modern retail liquor traffic, would not be tolerated. The early merchants and proprietors of breweries frequently assisted a person into a public-house, and might own (in freehold) an hotel or two, but their tenants were bona-fide, and very different from the class of impecunious subordinate helps who now work scores of groggeries of which they are as little the principals as the beer-engine they manipulate—nay, much less—for that is a fixture, whilst the so called tenant is an animated chattel that could be pitched into the street at any moment.
In the primitive days, and indeed for several years after, the public-house business was the most thriving of the retail callings in the colony, and I hardly ever knew an instance of failure where the landlord was sober, the drinkables reasonably good, the place kept tolerably clean, and the attendance ordinarily civil. One or two writers on those bygone times have waxed very funny over the way business used to be done in the old Melbourne taverns, but much of their pleasantry is either gross exaggeration or pure invention. In a sketch of this kind I cannot well ignore altogether the romancing in question; but, whilst embodying the substance of what are wholly or partly canards, I shall add corrections based both upon ocular evidence and information obtained from persons engaged in public business in Melbourne at the time when the marvels related are stated to have occurred.
The "Sticking Plasters."
For several years the publicans' harvest consisted chiefly in fleecing (or "lambing down," as it was technically termed) the stockmen, bullock-drivers, shepherds, and shearers who made periodical trips to Melbourne for a "spree," or to "knock down their money." These fellows worked harder than horses in the bush, and spent their money like asses in town. When their six or twelve months' engagement was up they left the station where they were employed in great glee, with orders for their wages upon some commercial house in town, and, unless stuck up and robbed at some of the unlicensed pot-houses on the way, they flew at once to their favourite drinking places in Melbourne, and deposited their orders with the landlord, who drew upon his casks and bottles as long as the amount of the "bit o' writin'" would run it." These orders came to be known as "Sticking Plasters,' but I never could see the applicability of the phrase. One of the writers referred to explains it, because "they used to be stuck up in the bar until the amount was said to be drunk out." This I believe to be incorrect, for I have more than once seen how the orders were operated upon. They were not "Sticking Plasters," though they infused fresh blood into the landlord's takings. As far as the bushmen were concerned, they might certainly be styled "blisters," for they burned" their pockets while they had them. The landlord no sooner clutched the "plaster" than he had it changed for cash. The customer was then credited with the amount, the "shouting" commenced, and the spree continued until about half-a-crown balance remained, which was handed to the bushman after his burst with which "to absquatulate" to the country, and commence upon the compounding of another "plaster" six or twelve months after. During the "melting" process—i.e., the spending—almost every person entering the bar was invited to join in the "drinkings," but loafers or spongers were comparatively few in those times. Gooseberry cham (sham)- pagne was uncorked by the half-dozen, rum taps flowed, and beer-bottles popped—beer-engines had not yet made their appearance.
The "counter lunch" of the period was (if the analysts are to be trusted) quite sui generis. None of your wafer-like sandwiches, or bread and pulverized cheese, or a biscuit and diminutive sheep's tongue, but a plentiful cask of raw salt herrings placed glistening before you, of which you might eat till you were tired, and without stint ; no fear of being pulled up by a stingy landlord or pert-tongued, forehead-fringed barmaid. The more was devoured the more was drunk, and as drink was then one shilling all round, the herrings were by no means a bad bait wherewith to hook the thirsty flatheads. It was setting a sprat to catch a mackerel with a vengeance.
The "Dead House."
Another usage grew up with the old hotels, sic fabula loquitur, which the latter day ones might well retain, i.e., the attaching of a littered room or dead-house—not the dreary-looking ghostly morgue, where suicides or accidentally made corpses are laid in state, but a secure, unwindowed, comfortably-strawed exterior apartment, into which the bodies of those who got dead drunk by day or night were stowed away, and suffered to rest in peace and sleep off the debauch. The "dead-house" was kept tidy and comfortable, and freshly strawed every morning. It is a mistake into which some of the old chroniclers have fallen to suppose that this "morgue" was the resting-place of any of the country customers of the hotel, for it was nothing of the kind. Every tavern then had its special connection, and the "Plaster-men" got to take to particular houses, and invariably patronized them when "ran-tanning." This class of benefactors the publicans took good care not to offend, and accordingly, when a man's "plaster" was nearly exhausted, he received the balance as travelling money, got a free breakfast, and cheerfully departed with a light heart and a still lighter pocket. The "dead-house" in reality was a humane institution for the accommodation of "casuals" helplessly intoxicated, who, instead of being tumbled out of doors, were "bedded down" for the night. Even if all this mortuary rubbish were correct, there would have been nothing colonially original in such a course, for it was only reviving a custom that prevailed in "Merrie England" in the beginning of the eighteenth century, when gin was the rage in London instead of beer; and Smollett declares that painted boards were put up, inviting people to get drunk for a penny, and dead drunk for twopence. The London gin-houses provided the accommodation of cellars laid down with straw, into which those who got helpless on the new favourite tipple might retire until consciousness was restored. If a man gets over-intoxicated now in a low class hotel he is hustled to the door, and, with a hand or foot, precipitated into the streets. A policeman may find him in the channel and take him either to the lock-up or the hospital, and cases have occurred in Melbourne where people have died from the exposure or injuries so received. Though the moderns may laugh at the old system, there was a dash of humanity in it, which might well be followed in more recent times.
Now with respect to the trio of fanciful yarns here reproduced, one only of them has a partial semblance of truth, i.e., the "Plasterers," with the modifications given. As to the countered barrel of raw The "dead-house," or littered morgue, I salt herrings, I may say that I have never seen one exhibited. believe to be just as apocryphal as the salt herring. I never saw either the inside or outside of an hotel "dead-house," and I do not believe such institutions ever had an existence in connection with the ancient public-houses. I have recently conferred on this subject with Mr. Thomas Halfpenny, of Studley Park, who was a licensed victualler in Melbourne from 1837 to 1847, and I have his concurrence in the statement I now make. It is not without some hesitation that I shatter the spicy little fictions, so readable and laughable, only they are not facts; but magna est veritas is my motto in these Chronicles, and the delusions in question must be annihilated.
"John Barleycorn."
Usquebaugh, (Anglice "Whisky") was not only undrunk, but unknown for years in the early taverns of Melbourne. Rum, gin, brandy (dark, there was no pale) and beer were the commodities retailed. The favourite tipple of the bushman was mixed brandy and ginger-beer—a "spider," as it was called—for which Is. 6d. was charged, and this was the shouting that was liked by the publican, for there was much profit, and it rapidly filled the till. A treat for three was usually half-a-pint of brandy and three ginger-beers, for which 4s. 6d. was the reckoning, and half-a-dozen shouts of this kind made up what could not be termed "unconsidered trifle." On the 15th November, 1839, the ship "William Metcalfe" arrived from England with Mr. J. B. Were as a passenger. It was his intention to engage in commercial pursuits in Melbourne, and the merchandise which he brought out included some Cork whisky and Waterford porter. The whisky was from a then famed distillery in Cork, presided over by a Mr. Jerry Murphy, and in some short time Halfpenny, of the William Tell, purchasing two puncheons of the stuff, was the first man to vend whisky at the bar in Melbourne, For years after it was not much affected, for the rum and brandy and "Old Tom" maintained their ground, and whisky was in no great demand as a public-house draught until after the gold revolution.
I have often heard it asked how Halfpenny's tavern obtained the un-English appellation of the William Tell, commemorative of the supposititious Swiss apple-shooter. It happened in this simple way Half-penny fancied that a good deal lay in a taking name, and anxiously cast about for one. He was acquainted with a young man, the only Swiss resident of the time, who was subject to most depressing fits of maladie du pays, the home sickness for which his countrymen are proverbial. When he heard what Halfpenny required, he entreated the Irish Cockney to name his intended groggery after the idol of his own hero-worship, and this was done.
At the Annual Licensing Session, held on 21st April, 1840, the following publicans' licenses were granted for Melbourne:—Little Flinders Street, 5; Collins Street, 4; Little Collins Street, 2; Bourke Street, 1; Elizabeth Street, 1 ; Queen Street, 2; William Street, 1; Little Bourke Street, 1. One license was accorded to Williamstown. In 1842 the Annual Licensing Session excited much interest, as there were many new applications. The Justices were—Messrs. James Simpson, P.M., F. A. Powlett, G. D. Mercer, E. J. Brewster, William Verner, William Furlonge, Drs. S. Martin and F. M'Crae. The population of Melbourne proper was estimated at 4400; Newtown (Collingwood), from 1200 10 1500; and Williamstown, 680. The result of the sitting was to increase the town licenses by 13. There were three applications for authorized grog shops at Collingwood, which were opposed by Mr. James Montgomery, Solicitor, on behalf of the respectable inhabitants, who backed him up with an anti-license memorial. There was a disposition to grant one license for the place, but as there was no constable there to look after the publican, the whole were refused. At a special Sessions held in October, Mr. David Lyons obtained one for a house on the Heidelberg Road, to be known as the Travellers' Rest, which he opened on the 8th November. This, the first Collingwood nobbler mart, was for many years a popular refreshment stall for people indulging in strolls out of town. It was situate in Nicholson Street, Fitzroy, on the site of the (now King's) College facing Faraday Street.
In connection with some of the older taverns there was an excrescence known as the "tap," often disreputable and disorderly in its way. It was in fact a second bar, and sublet to a person who usually ministered to the lowest class of customers. Though a palpable violation of the Act of 1838, it was permitted until 1842, when "taps" being adjudged public nuisances, were peremptorily abolished.
In 1844, the New South Wales Government proposed to increase the general license fee to £100 a year, at which much wrathful feeling was expressed by the retail liquor traders and the notion was abandoned. An attempt was made to establish a Licensed Victuallers' Society, but it failed through a split in the ranks. It is a singular incident that there were as many licensed hotels in Melbourne in 1846 as in 1849, though at the latter period the population had received an addition of over twenty per cent. Melbourne of itself then numbering 20,000 inhabitants.
Licensing Bench Vagaries.
The Act incorporating the town of Melbourne in 1842, restricted the jurisdiction of Justices of the Peace in an important degree. Hitherto the magisterial function was territorial, limited by the boundaries of Port Phillip; but now there was a distinct town and district jurisdiction, and a magistrate was debarred from adjudicating on the town Bench, unless his name was on the Burgess Roll, and he resided within seven miles of Melbourne. Further, in adjudications under the Licensed Victuallers' Act, no Magistrate, directly or indirectly connected with the ownership of a house licensed, or for which an application was made, or engaged in the wholesale liquor business, could take part; and such prohibitions after a time virtually drew all Bench matters appertaining to hotels into the hands of three Town Magistrates, viz., Major F. B. St. John, Dr. W. B. Wilmot (the Coroner), and Mr. James Smith (Savings' Bank Secretary). Smith and Wilmot were men of undoubted integrity, who always fancied they were doing right, even when the opposite was the fact; but St. John was in nowise particular whether right or wrong, so long as it paid. He gradually introduced a system of "backsheesh," and worked it profitably for some years, when the abuse grew so notorious, that open exposure followed, and ended in his downfall. Details of the Major's misdoings are treated of in another chapter, and only a few supplementary items will be here added. Major St. John having tasted of the illicit loaves and fishes, his appetite increased, and the licensing Bench festered into such a hot-bed of corruption, that applicants would not apply even for a permit to keep open for a single night, without first considering how it could be made right with the Major, for he soiled his hands with everything. There was no difficulty in the giving, for every donation, even the smallest, was received willingly, if not thankfully by him, either through the post, by personal service, or at his residence.
When the Major lived in Brunswick Street, a room at the rear was known as the sanctum (referred to elsewhere), the window of which looked into the yard. Outside the aperture was a fixture not unlike one of the drinking troughs to be seen opposite certain taverns, and into this receptacle as letters into a post office pillar, might be "posted," any favours intended for the Major, and no pillar was ever cleared so regularly, for it was continuously watched, especially in the morning, the best time for depositing the offerings. But the Major's "takings" were not restricted to his licensing business, for as Crown Land Commissioner, he controlled the management of, not only the squatting stations, but wood-cutting, brickmaking, loam carting, and other avocations. From everything coming within his official purview, he would try and make something, and the anecdotes recounted of his sharp practices might be noted by the hundred. Gross petty acts of injustice would be perpetrated, for in the case of rival disputes about run boundaries, or areas of brick ground, or publichouse licenses, the value of the douceur carried the day. An auctioneer "knocks down" the highest bidder, but Major St. John "floored" the lowest. I append a few examples: A carter who wished to secure a contraband load of wood, would meet St. John in the morning in Brunswick Street, and say, "Good morrow, Major; I'm a poor man, with a large family, and we have'nt a bit of fuel in for the winter. God bless your honour, and let me get a few logs of dead wood at the Merri Creek or over the river." The response was, "All right my man, do as you want. But, by the way, I am out of firewood too, as well as you; do you mind?" The man would depart, take two loads for himself and drop a third in the yard at the Major's mansion. A canny Frenchman, resident in an outskirt of Melbourne hit upon a very polite and gentlemanly mode of making matters mutually agreeable. Whenever he wished for any small favour he would drop a sovereign into a large snuffbox, and (of course, as if by the merest accident) intercepting St. John, would execute a profound salaam, and extending the viaticum, with a tap and a comical grin entreat the Major to do him the very great honour of accepting a pinch of his latest Lundyfoot. St. John, smilingly acquiescing, would open the box; but instead of applying the proxy for the "titillating dust" to his nose, would quietly drop it into a vest pocket, with a nod and a wink, and an exclamation "that it was very capital snuff indeed." The ice so broken, induced such a thaw in St. John's disposition to be accommodating, that "Frenchy" had only to ask what he wanted without much risk of a denial. Another time the Major would be accidentally waylaid by an applicant for a publican's licence, who would be told to write down all the particulars and send it to Collingwood. This was done accordingly either in person or by post, with a reminder in the shape of a remittance, about which nothing would be said in the communication, though its purport would be well understood, and not forgotten. Where there were no conflicting interests the Major invariably gave valuable consideration for what he received; but where there were opposing influences, he stuck to the client who gave the most, and ruthlessly cast the other overboard.
'There was a newspaper reporter of the time, who, prior to an annual licensing session, made as much money as a Chamber or consulting lawyer, or any police office Attorney; for well knowing how the Major was to be "managed," he advised in a way that always brought success. I have heard him over and over repeat the following almost incredible story:—"On an occasion there were two applicants for new hotels, each erected on an opposite street corner, either of which was sure to be licensed, but certainly not both. One of the suitors retained the smartest Attorney in practice, and the other the newspaper man. 'The latter advised his client to keep quiet, and finish his house, so as to make it look as smart as possible, and come to him on the Saturday prior to the Tuesday in April, when the Yearly Sessions were always held. In the interim the adviser, who had special means for acquiring information about the Major's clandestine operations, found out that the applicant who had the Attorney in his pay had in addition to the professional fee, presented the Major with his compliments in the substantial form of a ton of hay, resting securely in the conviction that now everything would go right. On the second applicant turning up on the Saturday as promised, he was advised on the following Monday to deliver a ton and a-half of hay in Brunswick Street, and on the same morning a letter was transmitted through post anonymously advising of the bounty, who sent it, and the quid pro quo expected. The Licensing day arrived, the rival, applications were heard, and he who relied solely on the superior dead-weight of hay, minus a lawyer, completely checkmated the other, notwithstanding all the fervid eloquence of his advocate."
The green wattle-tree grove, which at the time bloomed between Spring Street and Collingwood, was a favourite trysting place for the Major and some of his customers. A bush track ran from Collins Street through the Parliament Reserve, and the Major, mounted on a grey horse, might be daily seen riding home from the Police Court, about 3 p.m. Anyone wishing audience of His Worship might have it here without interruption, and curious interviews not unfrequently took place. The "gentleman of the Press" already mentioned often saw the Major here. They were well-known to each other, and sometimes St. John would unbend so far as to invite the other to accompany him to Brunswick Street, and have some brandy and water. Once the amateur licensing practitioner was not consulted until literally the eleventh hour, the day before a licensing meeting. It was a case of emergency, and should be settled at once. Accordingly, about 2 o'clock, the journalist sauntered over the Eastern Hill, and posting himself against a huge tree trunk, pulled out a cigar, and whiffed away. He had in his pocket an honorarium for the Major, wrapped in a memo. as to what it was there for, the whole tied as a small paper parcel and superscribed, "Major St. John, Brunswick Street." In about half-an-hour the Major, on his Rosinante, hove in sight, and when he reached the point where the smoker was cloud-blowing with a second cigar, something like the following scene ensued, in detailing which, for convenience sake, I shall refer to the pedestrian journalist simply as "A":—
The Major.—"I say, why did you leave the Police Court so early to-day? From the way I saw you bundle up your papers and flit, I thought there must be something in the wind with you."
A.—"Oh, I was bored to death with those monotonous wages cases, through which you and 'Old Whistle (Mr. J. Smith) were poking. I was up at the office until cock-crow this morning, and I wanted to get a breath of fresh air."
The Major.—Hem—ha! Was that it, eh? This is a fine airy place, is it not? Come, walk along home with me; I'll give you a drink."
A.—"Much obliged, Major; but I'd prefer not. Thanks all the same to you for your well-meaning hospitality; but I've had enough for to-day at the Market Square Hotel."
The Major.—"Oh, you had, had you. All right, then; if you don't like to come, you can do the other thing."
A.—" You need not go to the trouble of telling me that, Major; but look you here, the queerest thing in the world happened since I came out. At the foot of that tree beyond I found this suspicious-looking little packet (drawing it out from his pocket) addressed to you in a free running hand. I could hardly resist the temptation of opening it to see what was in it, for by its feel it contains something substantial."
The Major (growing excited and slewing his horse half round) said:—"Look you here, you fellow; hand me over that directly, if, as you say, 'tis for me. If you dare open anything addressed to me—do you see that gaol up there on the hill? I'll soon have you safe enough there; d————me if I won't!" A.—"Major, please keep your bounce for the Police Office, for I don't want, and shan't take any of it. The parcel is not sealed but only taped; and even if I did open it, perhaps I should not learn more than I know. Here it is, safe and sound. Take it home, and if there be any lesson in it to be learned, be sure not to forget it.”
The Major clutched the parcel, and vowing if he had A. in the Police Office he would commit him for his insolence, rode away. The enclosure consisted of three golden miniatures of Queen Victoria, and half a sheet of notepaper, with the name of an applicant for the licensing of a new house, the street, where situated, and its intended designation. The following day Mr. So-and-So obtained his license.
Messrs. Wilmott and Smith could sometimes be "hooked" unconsciously to themselves, for there were no two more upright men in the Province. Neither of them would accept a bribe, in any manner or form; but though sagacious, far-seeing, and utterly incorruptible, their temperaments were tinctured with a haziness that imparted a gentle dulness to their minds. When on the Bench they might be compared to what is known in America as a "spike team," or in English stable slang as a unicorn." St. John unwinkered and wide awake, being "fly" to everything, as leader. Of anything like finesse in influencing decisions they never dreamed, and thus they imperceptibly and innocently fell into traps laid for them. The modus operandi originated with the Mr. A. already mentioned, or perhaps it should be termed an invention of his. It was this:—Some two or three months before a Licensing day, the intending applicant was to open an account at the Melbourne Savings Bank, of which Smith was the Secretary and Actuary, and continue paying in a small deposit on the days in each week open for receiving money. Smith could not bring himself to believe any regular Savings Bank customer capable of evil; and if all the sins in the Decalogue were debited to one of that class, so long as he did not begin to withdraw, some absolving impulse in the Smith bosom moved towards him. Therefore, if a Savings Bank depositor applied for a license (though Smith would maunder a few words about the unrighteousness of the calling), he could never think of interposing any opposition. In this way an individual, in himself pre-eminently good and religious, was involuntarily biassed so far as to acquiesce in St. John's freaks; for to directly oppose him he could rarely, even under any circumstances, muster sufficient moral courage. By something of an analogous process, Wilmot, the Coroner, was prescribed for. He secured a very limited private practice, and about the time when the Savings' Bank bait would be laid for the one magistrate, the other would be called in to attend the wife, aunt, mother, mother-in-law, or child of the future applicant. Some of the most arrant instances of malingering were managed in this way. The patient underwent a short process of rehearsal, and when the Doctor was announced the invalid jumped into bed, and there was no difficulty in imposing upon the amiable, mild-mannered Æsculapius, who possessed a Roman nose and wore a pair of large spectacles, both of a pronounced type, and as a rule did not see far beyond either of them. When the application came on for hearing, the Doctor was there as an emollient to facilitate its safe transit, without the most remote notion that he had been "physicked" for the purpose.
It was also believed that a certain Chief-Constable was in league with St. John, and that they used to divide the winnings. It was said of this party that on certain days he used to leave a peculiarly-made shooting coat, sported on State occasions, on the table in the small room of an hotel, near the Police Court, into the pocket of which would be dropped, as into a poor-box, the "peace offerings" destined for him. He would keep a sharp look-out on intending contributors, and the moment he saw a person emerge from the sanctuary, he would pop in to empty the pocket, so that no interloper could have a possible chance of fingering the booty. These suppositions were far from groundless, though I fancy the takings were solely appropriated by the coat-owner, for St. John did not care about going halves with anyone. He worked individually and not in partnership, and if a favour were to be bought from him he should be treated with as a principal.
Many who read this chapter will, doubtless, hold up their hands in deprecation of the official immorality here described. Statutably, at the period I write about, bribery was an indictable offence, but from the circumstances existing during St. John's career, a usage sprang up which gave a quasi common-law sanction to his misdoings. Everyone, so to speak, was cognizant of all this; yet it was not prevented. person wishing for a license was denied justice unless he sought it in a manner which was certainly not generally approved, though very generally resorted to. St. John's misdoings were known, not only amongst the commonalty, but in the select circle of the Melbourne Club, where he was facetiously spoken of under the alias of "Tippo," (Tip Oh!), the paternity of which alias (it could not well be called a pseudonym) was attributed to no less a personage than the Superintendent of the Province (Mr. Latrobe). Of course, his Honor only chimed in with what he believed to be a general joke, and would hesitate before taking any step to ruin a man in St. John's position. At length, when "Johnny" Fawkner "bell'd the cat" at the public meeting, previously noticed, the Superintendent taught St. John that he was not to be trifled with, and even then Fawkner was only able to adduce testimony barely sufficient to prevent St. John getting a verdict, and the legal altercation terminated in a drawn battle. It was a disastrous result, however, for the plaintiff, whose race was run in the Province, and Port Phillip was well rid of him.
As this is the Major's last appearance in these Chronicles (unless, perhaps, an incidental reference to his name), I dismiss him by stating that he was a scion of the noble English House of Bolingbroke, was born in 1797, and held a Major's Commission in the 52nd Regiment. After his departure from the colony he applied unsuccessfully for some other appointment, and was eventually admitted to the refuge provided for impoverished gentility, known as the Military Knights of Windsor, where he died 24th July, 1866.
Race Licensing Complications.
In 1851 Teetotalism assumed a short-lived importance, chiefly owing to the exertions of Mr. Richard Heales, who had a seat in the City Council. An impression gained ground that, if no intoxicating drinks were sold at the Melbourne Racecourse during the annual meeting, the social habits of the people would be much improved, and several underhand influences were brought to bear against a dozen Melbourne publicans, for permission to erect drinking booths on the course. The Flemington race ground was without the city boundary, though the applicants were city publicans, and a question arose as to whether Territorial Justices could vote. This was referred for the opinion of the Government Law Adviser (Mr. Croke), who held that it was a matter in which city Licensing Justices only had jurisdiction. A special meeting of Magistrates was convened to consider the question of booths or no booths, and on a division Teetotalism triumphed, for the voting was:—
For—Captain R. Jacomb, Messrs. A. M'Lachlan, H. Moor.
Against—The Mayor, Mr. W. Nicholson, Dr. Wilmot, Messrs. R. W. Pohlman, Jas. Simpson.
Non-voter: Mr. James Smith. Absent: Mr. E. P. Sturt, Captain Hutton, and Dr. Greeves.
Action of this kind, without precedent in the colony, occasioned widespread dissatisfaction. But though the city publicans were baulked in their desire to cater for the race-going public, the city Bench could not bind the district one. Flemington was in the county of Bourke, and a number of district publicans accordingly sent in applications for permission to sell on the course, and so the teetotal battle had to be fought over again upon a more unfavourable field. There was a strong muster of the Terrritorial Magistrates, and the division thus resulted:—
For—Messrs. C. Payne, R. Jacomb, W. Thomas, T. Baillie, W. Taylor, M'Credie, W. H. Wright, R. H. Bunbury, E. P. Dana, E. P. Sturt, W. Firebrace, C. J. Griffith.—12.
Against—Messrs. J. Simpson, R. W. Pohlman, P. M'Arthur, W. B. Wilmot, Benj. Heape, G. Playne, G. A. Robinson, J. Smith, A. F. Greeves.—9. Majority for, 3.
The Chairman (Mr. Simpson) objected to the voting of Messrs. Baillie and M'Credie, as they were not Justices of the County of Bourke, notwithstanding which they voted. The Chairman then declared he should adjourn the meeting until the next day, and meantime obtain legal opinion on the point. This was done, and the legal dictum was that the gentlemen objected to possessed a Territorial jurisdiction, and their votes were valid. Twelve applications were accordingly granted, conditional upon the booths being kept open only from 12 to 3 o'clock of each day of the meeting, an absurd restriction, which was not adhered to.
Licensed Victuallers' Association.
In the beginning of 1850, the necessity for some united action on the part of the Melbourne publicans forced itself urgently upon the members of the trade. On the 14th October a public meeting was held at the Royal Exchange Hotel, Collins Street, for the inauguration of the Society. Mr. Henry Addison was elected to the Chair, and Mr. John Cosgrave, to the Vice-chair. Every person in the room was a publican's license holder, and it was agreed that all present should be deemed members, after which the door was closed.
It was determined that the Association should be styled "The Licensed Victuallers' Society of Port Phillip for the protection of the rights and interests of the Licensed Victuallers, and to afford assistance in case of accidents and necessity." None but Licensed Victuallers should be considered eligible as members. A reward of £5 was to be paid for every successful prosecution in the suppression of illicit spirit selling, and the committee was empowered to refund police-office fines to convicted publicans under certain circumstances. Mr. W. J. Sugden was elected President without opposition. Mr. John Cosgrave, Vice-President, Mr. Michael O'Shea, Treasurer, and Mr. Henry Addison, Secretary. Messrs. M. O'Shea, M. Gallagher, T. Ryan, P. Costelloe, P. M'Grath, M. Curtain, John Fitzgerald, Robert Newstead, T. M'Niece, Rody Heffernan, Henry Lincham, and W. Balch, were elected Committee-men.
On the 3rd April, 1851, there was a general meeting of the Society at the Supreme Court Hotel, Latrobe and Russell Streets. There was then before the Legislative Council of New South Wales a Bill for the Amendment of the Licensing Act, and resolutions were passed as to the desirability of prohibiting the sale of liquors in less quantities than four gallons by wholesale dealers, and for the sale of even one that they should be obliged to take out a license, and allowing Licensed Victuallers to sue in the Common Law Courts for any debts contracted with them for the supply or consumption of refreshments. The President was requested to communicate these views of the meeting to Mr. George Robert Nichols, of Sydney, the Member having charge of the Bill. It was also agreed to engage a "respectable" solicitor to guard the interests of the Association, at a stipend of £50 per annum, and I for every additional member thenceforth obtained until the remuneration reached £100 per annum. To meet the necessary expenditure each member should pay the annual sum of £3 10s. 6d., and the fee of £1 on every transfer of a license.
Taken as a body, the Licensed Victuallers from 1836 to 1851 constituted a segment of the community which did it credit, for they were as a rule honest and honourable, public spirited and charitable. Before Melbourne possessed an Hospital or benevolent Asylum, the publicans' hands were daily in their pockets to alleviate distress; and when any unfortunate met with an accident, and there was no Institution to receive him, the publican would take him in, and not only provide medicine and medical comforts, but even discharge the doctor's bill, though the old medicoes were not exacting in this respect. In the initiation and maintenance of Public Charities there were no more free-handed helpers than the hotel-keepers. Several of the ancient Bonifaces were amongst the most intelligent of the Melbournians, and in after years some of them made their mark, not only in the City Council, but in the Victorian Legislature, the most notable instances being Sir John O'Shanassy, Dr. A. F. A. Greeves, Messrs. J. P. Fawkner, J. T. Smith, and J. S. Johnston. Of course there were black sheep occasionally in the flock, as there will be in flocks of every condition, and for all time; but the exceptions were numerically few.