W. H. Corfield

In 1883, Judge Miller, with the present Mr. Justice Real as Crown Prosecutor, opened the first District Court in Winton. Fred Riley and myself had been put on the "Commission of the Peace," and appeared before the Judge to be sworn in. We then decided that we should without delay show that we were magistrates, and prepared to carry out our duties. We found a good, hard-drinking man, and offered him ten shillings to spend in drink. He gladly accepted the offer, and shortly afterwards we were asked by the police to sit on a case of drunkenness and disorderly conduct. Our man had kept to his agreement, and was brought before us. We severely reprimanded him for his conduct and discharged him. Judge Miller hearing of it, frequently recalled the joke to my memory, and we had many a good laugh over it.

Early in this year, Mr. Griffith (afterwards Sir Samuel) and Mr. Dickson (afterwards Sir James) made a tour of the north-west, and travelled by coach from Hughenden to Winton. The party was detained a night at Stack's public house, about midway between the two towns, whilst the mailman rode over to Sesbania with the mail. Mr. Griffith here made the acquaintance of Schofield, who was managing a store near Stack's for Charlie Rowe. Stack's house was not an inviting place, so the two Ministers spent the evening in Schofield's quarters. The latter was shortly afterwards appointed as Government agent on board the "Hopeful." The history of this vessel is well-known in the Law Courts of Queensland. Messrs. Griffith and Dickson were treated to a wine party in Winton. There was but little enthusiasm shown at the meeting, the majority of those present being strong McIlwraithians.Mr. Fraser, the managing partner of Messrs. Baillie, Fraser and Donald, of Manuka Station, had been in the army, and had served through the Indian Mutiny. He was highly respected by all, but was not popular excepting among those with whom he was intimate. They knew him to be very hospitable and kind, and a thorough gentleman. He came of a high Scottish family, and was proud that one of his ancestral relations had his head cut off for loyalty to his King. I remember being a silent listener to the relation of some happenings which at one time or other occurred in Ireland. The postmaster was a man who, rather young in years, appeared to have had some experiences. He was telling Fraser of the ill-feeling which was existent between two British regiments in a town somewhere in Ireland, while he was there. One was the 65th, an English, and the other the 89th, an Irish regiment. It seems that the latter had been formed from the North Cork militia, which, I understand, bore an unenviable reputation from their conduct during the rebellion in 1798. The townspeople had a long memory of this, and in the disturbance amongst the soldiers, supported the English regiment against their own countrymen. Fraser listened to it all, and then said, "By jove, wasn't it bitter; I was captain of a company of the 89th, and some of my men were badly knocked about." I thought it made the world very small to hear such incidents being related in the far west of Queensland.

Now that we had two banks, four hotels, a chemist, saddler, besides other branches of industry, we felt that we were being drawn perilously within the influences of civilisation and its drawbacks.

The manager of one of the banks, who was deservedly popular owing to his genial character, the kind way in which he could refuse one an overdraft, and then suggest quite friendly and cheerfully to the applicant: "What do you think; shall we put the gloves on?" This gentleman had a very peculiar hobby, to attend the sick and dying, and to bury the dead. Some incidents connected with his hobby, are as follows:—A tank sinker from Ayrshire Downs died in the hospital. That day a new warder and his wife, who came from beyond Boulia, were put on. The doctor's instructions were that any person dying of typhoid fever, as did the man in question, was to be taken out of the ward and buried as quickly as possible. Immediately the man died, the wardsman was taking the body straight into the morgue, after sending word to the blacksmith, who was also the undertaker, to come up, and remove the body straight away for burial. Some of the patients, seeing the body being carried out, verbally assisted the new wardsman with their suggestions. Thus, the dead man was to be washed, shaved, and have a clean shirt put on. It was late in the afternoon; the wardsman did not like handling the corpse, so the story goes, that he got a bucket of water and a mop, and mopped the body down. This he left on the table in the morgue, and forgot all about the clean shirt or the shaving. There was an understanding between the police sergeant and the bank manager that as there were no clergymen of any denomination in the town, the sergeant would read the services for the Roman Catholics, and the manager for all others. The undertaker-blacksmith would notify the reader required, and funerals were carried out at any hour, day or night. The tank sinker's funeral was timed to leave the hospital about 12.30 a.m. For some reason the bank manager attended this funeral. The body was then in the coffin, and a start made for the cemetery. There were some of the dead man's mates present, and the bank manager heard them complaining that it was a d——d shame to bury a man naked. When the funeral reached the graveside, the idea struck the manager that, as he was wearing a clean, white shirt, it would be the proper thing to open the coffin, put his shirt on the corpse, and this was done. The action gave great pleasure and satisfaction to the men present, who, as a mark of gratitude, on return to town, wished to knock up the public-house people and shout drinks for all hands.One night there was a funeral at which the manager was to read prayers. The undertaker in this case had a small cart, used as a hearse, drawn by a mule recently broken in, and not too quiet. As the funeral party was walking to the cemetery in the dark, some one struck a match. This was too much for the mule, which bolted across the plain at the back of the cemetery. He reached the edge of a small gully and propped. The weight behind, however, forced him over the bank. The coffin fell out, and the top coming off, the body rolled out on the ground. After extricating the mule, the body was put into the coffin again, and the top put on, the nails driven home with stones. As the mourners objected to the further use of the mule, the party carried the body to the cemetery much to the disgust of the undertaker.

Going home from Winton one night after a spree, a boundary-rider from Ayrshire Downs got off his horse a few miles out, and fell asleep. He woke up some time in the night, fairly sober, and found his horse gone, so he started to walk, but having got off the road, perished midway between the 20-mile and the Cockatoo dam, well-known places on this road. The bank manager was assisting in the search for the lost man, and happened to be with the police when the body was found, which was buried on the spot. The dead man's wife lived in Toowoomba, and as the manager had been remitting money from her husband to her, he informed her of the latter's death. She acknowledged the letter, and expressed a wish that the body might be dug up and brought into Winton for decent burial. She asked how long the body would have to be buried before the flesh would be off the bones and the remains could be brought in. The doctor advised it would be fully six months. At the end of this time the widow arrived in Winton to carry out her desires. Early one Sunday morning the widow, accompanied by the bank manager and the undertaker, left town to exhume the remains. The party had a white table-cloth in a red gin case with the cover on to carry the bones. It was an extremely hot day as the party reached the grave, and hobbled the horses out. The manager related "that he and the undertaker soon had the bones upon the cloth in a nice little heap. The widow examined each bone as it was laid down, and she missed one of the knee-caps, so nothing would pacify her until it was found. This we did eventually by rubbing the soil between our hands and breaking the lumps. It was now near dark. We had arranged for the priest to be at the cemetery by sun-down, and that the grave would be ready. When we arrived about 10 o'clock at night the priest and the grave-digger had gone. I then suggested that we should take the bones in the box to Lynett's hotel, but the landlady wouldn't hear of the remains being left at the hotel. Eventually we left the box and the bones in the grave. The priest came out the next morning, and having read the service, the remains were buried decently, and the widow was happy."

The manager of one of the stations had died at the North Gregory hotel. The body was immediately carried into the manager's private quarters, at the rear of the business part of the bank. The accountant was seen shortly afterwards protesting against the room, which happened to be his, being used as a morgue. He is to this day certain that from the spot where the hand of the corpse struck the wall as it was being put down, knocking may still be heard on the anniversary of the incident. This bank manager was possessed of great energy and perseverance, and a business capacity seldom met with. He was highly respected and extremely popular with everybody high and low throughout the western country, but he is now the head of one of our principal industries. I often wonder if he still has the inclination to bury people.

Our firm had been supplying goods and spirits to a storekeeper at Boulia, whose P.N.'s for a considerable sum of money were not met. Early in 1884. I decided to go out to look into matters. I was accompanied by a Mr. Howard, who was on the look out for a hotel. On my arrival at Boulia I found that the storekeeper had erected a building as an hotel on a piece of land which he had made several promises to purchase. I found the owner, bought the land, and claimed the building erected upon it. This I considered as equal to the money owing to us. Thos. Lynett, of Winton, had started a branch store in Boulia, and had been supplying the same customer with goods on credit, having the building as security. When he heard that I had purchased the land and claimed the building, he wired to Brisbane to stop the sale. However, nothing came of it. I sold the property to Mr. Howard, and it was not long before he was able to wipe out his indebtedness.

Mr. Eglinton, late P.M. in Brisbane, then held a similar appointment at Boulia. A race meeting, which included a hurdle race, was being held. In this race all the horses baulked at the jumps and delayed the running. It was then decided to let the races wait while the visitors had lunch, etc. The judge joined our party. It was a hot day, even for Boulia; refreshments were generous, and in demand. The judge, in common with the visitors, was a thirsty soul. When we next turned our attention to the course, a race was being run, so the judge decided to get into the box. A grey and brown horse had negotiated the hurdles and were coming up the straight neck and neck. When they passed the post the Judge decided that the piebald horse had won. During my stay at Boulia I camped, by the invitation of Mr. Coghlan, the manager at Goodwood Station, just across the Burke River from the township. Mr. Eglinton, P.M., and Mr. Shaw, manager of Diamantina Lakes Station, were also guests, and we were glad to retire to this retreat after the uproarious happenings incidental to western towns during race time.

Before leaving, the P.M. asked Mr. Shaw and myself, who were both magistrates, if we would take a "didemus potastatum" to Monkira, about 100 miles down the river from Diamantina Lakes, and swear in Mr. Debney, the manager, as a Justice of the Peace. We consented; it was an excuse for seeing more of the country, and for a longer outing.

After a few days spent at the Lakes, we started with my team and buggy, accompanied by Mr. Shaw's little daughter. We reached Davonport Downs, then managed by Mr. McGuigan. He told us there were several very heavy sand hills to negotiate, and offered the loan of a pair of staunch heavy buggy horses. He suggested leaving my horses to spell. I accepted the offer. Shaw and myself took it in turns to drive. At one of these sand hills the horses stuck Shaw up, and refused, in spite of his persuasions, to budge. After giving them a spell, Shaw suggested I should take the reins. I had prepared my whip with a new cracker, but failed to start the horses. I then addressed the horses in the language of bullock-drivers, and stood up in the buggy to more effectually use the whip. The horses started, and I kept them going. Just then a small voice was heard from the back seat of the trap, "Mr. Corfield, will you please remember there's a lady in the buggy." Shaw and I immediately retired into our boots, but the horses gave no further trouble.

At that time I think Monkira was the farthest station down the river. Mr. Debney had come from Adelaide. He and Mrs. Debney gave us a splendid reception. The governess to the family afterwards became Mrs. R. K. Milson, of Springvale, and her eldest son lately was married to Miss Morgan-Reade, of Winton. On our return to Davonport Downs, we found Mr. McGuigan laid up with fever, so I took him into Winton.

In November, 1884, Sir Thos. McIlwraith, who had been inspecting his stations, passed through Winton, but while at Ayrshire Downs he received news of his father's death, and refused all demonstrations. I drove him to Vindex. On the road out I told him I contemplated leaving for England the following year. He gave me many hints for my guidance; also a letter of introduction to his brother, William McIlwraith, in London.

The western country was now suffering from a very severe and prolonged drought which brought ruin to many men, and heavy loss to those who pulled through. Taking advantage of the dry spell, I had a small tank excavated in my paddock. A heavy thunderstorm, averaging a little over two inches, fell over the town, and being anxious to learn if it had any water, I asked two friends to walk with me to the tank. We plodded about a mile in the heavy soil. I was satisfied with the result of my inspection; not so my companions, who lost their shoes in the boggy ground, and heaped anathemas on me and my dam.

Altogether their language on the return journey was of a very lurid nature.

This was the first rain for eleven months, and to celebrate it, Winton held carnival for three weeks, during which time no business of any sort was attempted. The time was devoted to sports and jollifications. About two miles east and west of the town ran wire fences, the road passing through gates. The peculiarity of this storm was that no rain fell beyond the fences. It was a strange sight to see green grass on one side of the wires and outside perfectly bare.

I have somewhere in this narrative alluded to lignum, and it may not be out of place at this juncture to describe what it is. Lignum is a small shrub which grows in the dry-water courses. It is much used as walls of houses—timber and iron being very expensive—roofing sheds, and such like. It does not keep out the rain, but is sun proof. With the thermometer running well past the 100 deg. in the shade, a roasting hot wind such as obtains in the western country, there are many worse pleasures to be enjoyed in the west than a lignum shed and a canvas bag. of cool rain water. Had old Omar known of the canvas water bag, he would prefer to sing its praises rather than those of a jug of wine. Blessings on the man who first thought of it