210. Rev George Cox and his ‘Notes on Gippsland History’ (2): versions of history and the question of race

Rev George Cox deserves recognition for his very earlier research on the history of (European) Gippsland. At the same time, while Cox definitely saw himself as a practising historian, he did not write any definitive history of either Gippsland or any specific location in Gippsland. Cox was more the researcher of history than the writer of history. It is critical to appreciate this different emphasis. Anyone reading the articles Cox published in the local paper from 1912 onwards was obviously extending and deepening their understanding of the history of Gippsland – outcomes Cox was obviously keen to promote – but their understanding was being formed in an episodic, piecemeal and even disjointed and contradictory manner. Cox never wrote his final, coherent, single history. Rather what he did was publish, on a regular basis, primary sources touching on several themes to do with Gippsland history which he then critiqued, with the intention of trying to uncover the historical truth. The period he covered stretched from the 1840s to the 1860s. Cox did provide considerable commentary and opinion along the way and he certainly did see himself as building the picture of the history of Gippsland, but there was no final history, for example in the style of Adams – From these beginnings: history of the Shire of Alberton (Victoria) – who, as we know, relied to a significant degree, on the articles Cox had written 80 years earlier.

Any assessment of Cox’s work has to focus on the sources he used. For Cox, it was all about uncovering primary resources – including those found in folk lore, and collective and personal memory – and matching them with what was already known of the history. There were often inconsistencies, contradictions, and different emphases encountered in the various sources and there had to be attempts to reconcile such tensions and make informed judgements. The other critical perspective was that, as Cox himself had argued, the history of Gippsland had been neglected. As already seen, Cox gave several reasons for this, including a general reluctance for locals to dwell on its earliest lawless period. The effect of this ‘neglect’ was that any sources Cox did present to his readers effectively served to tell the story for the first time. It was a case of Gippsland history being ‘discovered’ by Cox for his readers.

Cox himself described his central focus on primary sources. His very first article (Article 1, 31/1/1912) emphasised both the range of primary material he was trying to cover:

The sources of information are numerous, and of many kinds. Parliamentary reports, official correspondence, Road Board and Shire minute books, contemporary newspapers, Church minute books and reports, private correspondence, maps, legal documents and private diaries, have been generously placed at the disposal of the writer, and form the principal channels of information, such being supplemented by personal reminiscences of old residents, after careful enquiry.

It also presented the open-ended nature of his work and the potential limits of his approach:

But the writer is deeply conscious of two things, – first that he has by no means exhausted the storehouse of information, and secondly that he is not by any means possessed of such gifts as would preclude possibility of error. In connection then, with the first shortcoming, further sources of information will be most gratefully welcomed: and for the second criticism, and correction where needed, will be thankfully received.

This is very much a claim about ‘history in the making’ via a careful and sustained historical methodology. Overall, Cox saw his considerable effort as work-in-progress; but he saw this reality as a strength: history was being written, tested and refined through the dialectic. This was the proper function of a historical society. As noted, he also saw himself as providing research material for others who would follow.

At the same time, Cox obviously saw himself as offering more than critical insights on historiography. He definitely saw himself as ‘teaching’ the locals their (European) history. Moreover, he wanted them to understand, identify with and celebrate their history. For example, he took pride in the fact that his material was used at the local school for lessons associated with the celebration of events such as Discovery Day. As he stated (Article 26, 9/4/13):

Friday, April 18th. will be observed as Discovery day in State schools, therefore this and the succeeding article will be devoted to the subject of the early exploration of Gippsland.

Cox was also proud of the popularity his articles enjoyed and the fact that readers requested back copies. He made efforts to meet the demand. For example, he wrote the following introduction in one of his very early articles (Article 21, 20/11/12):

Before proceeding to the consideration of the subject matter of this paper a foreword about the paper itself may be advisable. In the first place, many requests have been received for back numbers of these papers which unfortunately cannot be supplied. But as special interest attaches to the subject of Count Strzelecki’s journey, it being included in the State school curriculum, and some additional matter of considerable interest has been received, it has been decided to republish portions of an article already in print, together with such additional matter. [The additional matter was material relating to the wreck of the Clonmel, in early January 1841.]

After the War was over and he had finished his service in the AIF, Cox resumed his series of articles and in Article 71, 25/11/21, he offered himself some degree of self-congratulation when he stated that his articles … have proved useful and have been recognised as a reliable authority by those engaged in historical study. He was keen to take up the work again and he committed to new material:

The compiler, since his discharge from military service, has had exceptional opportunities for research work in connection with the early discovery and settlement of the province, which will enable him to add considerably to the articles already published, and provide much new material as well.

Again, he pointed out the difficulties in reproducing earlier articles. He also indicated where such earlier material could be accessed:

Copies of all previous articles should be available for reference at several places locally, probably the Shire Hall and Mechanics’ Library, as well as the “Standard” office; while students further afield will find them in the Public Library and Historical Society’s Office, Melbourne, and the Mitchell Library, Sydney.

Cox’s attempts to generate interest in his work and have the locals, particularly the ‘pioneers’ who were still alive, engage in discussions and debate were successful. Cox definitely did focus the attention of his local community on its (European) history. In fact, there would have been few regional communities in Australia at that time who were as well served, in terms of their local history, as the Shire of Alberton. Moreover, this interest in local history – and, as noted earlier, Cox always saw his history as more than merely ‘local’ – was occurring at the very outbreak of WW1, the time when the new nation was preoccupied with its national identity or character.

As just the briefest example of Cox’s basic approach, consider the issue of exploration and what Cox saw as the competing claims associated with the vexed question of ‘Who discovered Gippsland?’ It was a question that preoccupied him. In fact, this very question first served as the title for an article in April, 1913 (Article 27) and the same question was still serving as the title of articles in 1922 (Article 80), 1923 (Article 81) and 1924 (Article 101).

The nature of the controversy related essentially to questions of motivation and transparency. On the one hand, there were dedicated ‘explorers’ who were either tasked by authorities, or took on the responsibility themselves, to chart ‘unknown’ territory and determine lines of travel or communication between the ‘known’ and ‘unknown’ districts. They had to ‘explore’ the coastline and ‘discover’ various overland routes. Count Strzelecki was the name most identified with such ‘exploration’. This group tended to write detailed accounts of their treks. On the other hand, there were opportunists – most commonly, squatters coming into Gippsland from NSW – who, in the pursuit of their own material interests, pushed into and exploited the same ‘unknown’ areas. But this second group did not necessarily want recognition, or, at least, not immediately. Their more self-interested motivation was to limit competition for the same new pastures. The name most associated with this second group was Angus McMillan. The efforts of this second group often went unrecorded, and often this was deliberate on their part. Of course, the major qualification in this particular ‘discovery’ controversy is that the areas were ‘unknown’ ‘un-mapped’ and ‘un-named’ only to Europeans. Indeed, there are numerous references in the various primary sources examined by Cox which highlighted how the Europeans relied on ‘blacks’ or ‘black fellows’ as guides and protectors in their travels in Gippsland.

Obviously, the theme of European discovery, exploration and occupation is tied absolutely to the critical theme of the dispossession and subjugation of the Indigenous population (Ganai/Kurnai). Yet this is not a theme covered by Cox. He touches on it, alludes to it, refers to it in passing but he does not present it as a critical historical theme in its own right. For Cox, this fundamental issue is more something that just happened, via a ‘natural’ process. It might have had some regrettable dimensions to it and there may well have been cruel excesses but, for Cox, the overall process to ensure a more productive and profitable use of the land, the establishment of settlements and towns, and the creation of a secure, civilised and God-fearing White community was both inevitable and justified. It was what ‘colonisation’ meant. Moreover, by the time that Cox was writing, the ‘foundation years’ and the ‘early days’ had well passed and there was little memory of and scant interest in them. In fact, certain frontier memories were repressed.

It is possible to see how Cox handled the issue of early contacts between the European ‘occupiers’ and the Indigenous population by looking closely at two episodes to which he was particularly drawn. The first was labelled the ‘White Woman of Gippsland’ and the second involved the death of Ronald Macalister and the subsequent massacre(s).

White Woman of Gippsland

In mid 1912, Cox wrote 2 articles on the White Woman of Gippsland. He was responding to several pieces which had appeared recently in The Mercury. The material covered … the oft repeated story of a white woman in the early days having lived in captivity amongst the blacks of Gippsland. Cox represented his work as an exercise in determining the real history in the romantic saga.

In his first article – Article 6, 22/5/12: The “White Woman” and other matters (1) – Cox gave the details of the essential narrative. The claim was that there had been a white, female survivor of a wreck on the Gippsland coastline in the early 1840s who had been captured by the ‘blacks’. Subsequently, over the next few years, there had been sightings of the woman by various European parties but none of these had been able to catch up to her captors and rescue her. There were variations on the basic story. One had the woman escaping her captors and making it all the way back to Sydney. Another had the ‘white woman’ as nothing more than a ship’s figurehead, painted white, which the local ‘blacks’ carried about with them.

At this point, Cox believed that, while the basic story made for ‘interesting reading’, it was ‘not exactly history’. He pointed to all the inconsistencies, contradictions and factual errors in the basic narrative and, finally, dismissed it. He came down on the side of the painted ship’s figurehead and concluded, She is dead – let us bury her.

But, clearly, the idea of a white woman being captured by and forced to live among the ‘blacks’ of Gippsland was a story bound to appeal to the public. It was one not easily dismissed.

A few weeks later, Cox had another article – Article 7, 5/6/12: The White Woman (2) – on the same topic. He began:

It was thought that when the last paper was written that this subject as disposed of, but it has since been disclosed that there are still some who believe in the story as fact. In the “Argus” of 25th May last an article appeared under the name of “Historicus” containing much valuable information not otherwise accessible. The writer being known to the compiler of these notes, permission was sought and readily granted for its reappearance in this form for the benefit of those who believe and for the interest of all others.

Cox reproduced the article from The Argus (25/5/12) in its entirety. The article focused on another key primary historical resource: Journal of an expedition which started from Melbourne on 6th March, 1847, in search of a white woman, supposed to be detained amongst the aboriginals of Gippsland. In fact, there were two expeditions – one in late 1846 and the other in early 1847 – and the journal Cox relied on was the account of the second expedition.

Again, the basic story outlined was that the woman survived a shipwreck and was captured by the ‘blacks’. She was seen by various parties and even left signs of her existence. It was a compelling narrative. As the writer of the piece, ‘Historicus’, explained, the Victorian community was deeply affected:

A white woman detained as a prisoner, or worse, amongst the savage natives of Gippsland, and she, poor soul, putting out signals of distress, hoping against hope that she may be released from her terrible captivity. This surely, was a circumstance demanding, not inquiry only, but prompt and energetic action. Thus it presented itself to the community of settlers who then formed the citizens of Melbourne.

Historicus then outlined how the two expeditions were conducted. No captured woman was found but, again, the explanation based round a ship’s figurehead came up. When the second expedition finally caught up with the ‘tribe’ reported to have been holding the ‘white woman’, the promised handover went as follows:

On the appointed day there was brought into the camp and handed over to the party a white woman indeed, but one carved in wood, and bearing a trident in her hand. The natives had long ago found on the beach the figurehead of the Britannia wreck, and had carried it about with them as the incarnation of one of their deities.

Then at the very end of his article, Cox reintroduced himself to say that yet another article had appeared in The Argus (20/7/12) and that after having read another primary historical resource referred to in this article – NSW Parliamentary Papers for 1846 – he was not sure that that there was not some truth to the basic claims. He was no longer definite that he was dealing with a ‘myth’. He concluded:

My attitude now is that of suspending judgement until a more favourable opportunity of fully discussing the matter.

Several years later Cox again returned to the white woman saga. In Article 70 (19/7/18) he referred to yet another story that had appeared in a magazine called Life in August 1913. The story was entitled, The Broken Honeymoon. An Extraordinary Tale of a White Woman among the Blacks. According to this story, a newly married woman had been abducted by ‘blacks’ from the Stockyard Creek gold diggings (Foster) in the 1860s. Rescuers tracked the woman to the ‘neighbourhood of the Gippsland lakes’ but then, at the point of her liberation, tragedy struck:

… the rescuers were doomed to disappointment, for while crossing one of the channels, when the police boat was not far distant, the woman stood up to appeal to them to hasten, and whether her movement upset the canoe or split the bark of which it was composed, the fact remains that it sank in view of the would-be rescuers, and the woman sank with it. A strong ebb tide was running, and the woman was not seen again.

After the article appeared, Cox wrote to the magazine and challenged the basis of the story. He claimed the story represented yet another version of the earlier 1840s saga. He pointed out that the gold diggings at Stockyard Creek dated from 1870 and so the time frame for the story had to be incorrect. Cox’s letter was published in the magazine. Then followed reply and counter reply between the author – George Hermann – and Cox over several editions. Cox insisted that while Hermann’s account was … a most interesting and romantic story it was not historically accurate. One of the claims Hermann had made was that the … white woman was being carried about by the Port Albert tribe. This was supposed to have been in the 1870s – Hermann did subsequently revise it back to the 1860s – but Cox argued, using primary sources, that by the 1870s there was effectively no ‘tribe’ left in the vicinity of Port Albert. Conversely, by another public set of data, in 1874 there were more than 1,000 settlers living … within a radius of ten miles of Port Albert. Moreover, Cox also argued that even as early as the 1850s the Indigenous population (Brataualang) had virtually disappeared from the local area.

The correspondence between Hermann and Cox appeared to run though to the end of 1913 when the magazine stopped publishing Cox’s letters. Cox’s criticism, based on primary sources, of Hermann’s story appeared valid. It represented credible historical argument which, of course, was what Cox claimed to practise. But Hermann was not impressed by such an approach. His attitude to the newly emerging historical societies and their historical craft was fairly negative. He had a more personal and open approach to history:

Historical Societies are properly precise and exact, but they must not fall into the error of holding that only tales which have been recorded in ancient records, chiefly official, can possibly be true. I wrote the tale with the intention of giving information which I possessed, and which I knew had not been recorded, and which was unknown to any but possibly two or three persons. Because it was unknown and unrecorded and strange, does not take way from its accuracy.

In the 100 years since Cox wrote on the topic, much more has been written on the ‘white woman of Gippsland’. For a background, see The La Trobe Journal, No 63 Autumn 1999, The Great “White Woman” Controversy. Interestingly, a good deal of the piece in the journal covers the tension between formal academic history and local history, particularly oral history which is passed down the generations. There are distinct shades of the very argument made by Hermann in 1913 in his defence of his ‘tale’. It is also important to note that historians today see the various versions of the ‘White Woman’ saga that circulated back in the mid 19C as having served as a general justification for intensified attacks on the Indigenous population.

What do we take from Cox’s interest in the White Woman? Why did he devote so much attention to the issue? One answer is that it provided a perfect example of all the critical boundaries between romance and reality, fiction and fact and myth and history. The role of the emerging historical societies and their backers, including Cox, was to write serious, fact-based history based on primary resources. The task was to uncover truth through research. Hearsay, folk lore, the tales of pioneers, collective memory – all of these could be considered and it was important to gather and record them; but there were definite limits and all these forms had to be tested against primary written sources. So, in a real sense, the various tales surrounding the white woman represented a natural and very rich focus for Cox and his methodology.

But I think it is reasonable to argue that there was another significant motive at play. Wittingly or otherwise, Cox was tapping into and giving voice to the deep-seated attitudes and fears of the first Europeans in Gippsland. His readers, over 100 years ago, would have been close enough in time to recognise those same attitudes and fears in their forebears. The occupation and settlement of Gippsland were still within collective memory. The story of the white woman served as a kind of essential fable. It sat at the edge of memory and represented the fear that from this strange and dangerous landscape, the original people – described as ‘blacks’ and ‘savages’ and completely ‘alien’ and ‘primitive’ – could reach out and exact some sort of vengeance by taking and abusing a ‘white woman’ who represented all that was ‘innocent’, ‘pure’ and ‘vulnerable’. Effectively, by dwelling on the story, Cox was rationalising the experiences and actions of the first generation of Gippslanders.

Death of Macalister and subsequent punitive expedition(s)

In Article 15 (25/9/12), under the heading, ‘Bloodshed’, Cox gave his first account of the death of Ronald Macalister. He stated that … the first murder of a white man by the blacks occurred early in 1842. His findings appear to have been based on recollections of local people.

Ronald Macalister was the nephew of Lachlan Macalister, a local squatter. Lachlan Macalister had land at … what is now Alberton East, south of the Brewery Road near the Tarra as a camping ground in connection with the shipping of cattle. On the land, there was a ‘bark hut’ which later became the home of Parson Bean.

Cox also described how there was a ‘party of blacks’ camped near Alberton and how when the men of the group were away hunting, stockmen of Macalister … in sheer wantonness, took a little blackboy from the camp and made a target of him. Cox then describes how when the men returned from hunting they … determined naturally on revenge. The nephew, Ronald Macalister was targeted:

Young Macalister riding from the hut at Alberton East to go through the bush to “Greenmount” had not proceeded far when he was set upon by two blacks and speared with ten spears, the body being badly mutilated.

Cox then explained the inevitable consequences:

This led to a punitive expedition on the part of the settlers, and a great massacre of the blacks followed.

Cox was keen to identify exactly where this massacre had taken place. He had three possibilities and he appealed to the local readers to come forward and provide more information. This was an excellent opportunity to involve the locals and draw on their folk memory:

No less than three different sites have been indicated as the scene of this massacre, viz Warrigal Creek, Gammon Creek, and Freshwater Creek. Between these the writer [Cox] is unable to determine. Perhaps there are some among the readers of these papers who can give the information. Those who escaped massacre were chased as far as Merriman’s Creek, and one who escaped death, in explanation to Mr. Lucas, stated he did so by ‘shaming dead’.

Mr. Lucas was one of the key sources for Cox’s account.

It is generally accepted today that all three locations mentioned saw killings, specifically in relation to punitive actions after Macalister’s death.

The first article on the killing and subsequent massacre created interest and response and so, not surprisingly, there was soon another article (Article 16, 15/10/12). Cox highlighted correspondence from the head teacher of Woodside State School, Mr W H Thomas. Thomas and a friend (Mr Lamb) gave details of a find they had made – ‘a quantity of human bones’ – buried in the sand on the beach near Warrigal Creek. The two men examined the skulls and concluded that the … remains were those of aboriginals. The men also noted that … all the skulls were fractured, a piece being broken away at the base of the skull, as though caused by a blow from a tomahawk. The men also noted that in conversation with a Mr Chas. Kuch, senior, they heard that there had been … a massacre of blacks in that neighbourhood. Unsurprisingly, they made the connection to … the massacre which took place in revenge for the murder of Ronald Macalister.

Cox then offered his opinion on the information provided by the men. First he argued that the remains pointed to ‘tribal warfare’. His view – naive and, arguably, convenient – was that Macalister’s men would have used firearms, and only firearms. Second, he was now fixed on the idea that the massacre had occurred at Freshwater Creek. This position appeared to be based on additional conversions he had had with the previously mentioned Mr Chas Lucas.

There was another article later the same month (Article 17, 30/10/12). Clearly, Cox’s articles on the topic were stirring interest, long-held memories and stories passed down the generations. This time there was different account of the reasons given for Macalister’s murder. It was clear that even though he reported it, Cox did not find the claim credible.

… the cause of the murder was, that when the blacks came too freely about the camps of the settlers and stockmen, and became a nuisance, the whites scattered about hot coals from their fires, and the blacks burnt their feet. The murder was in retaliation for this.

Also by this point, Cox had firmed on the idea that the massacre had not taken place at Freshwater Creek but at Warrigal Creek. His chief source for his change in position was a certain Mr Walpole. Cox quoted him:

I always understood that Warrigal Creek was the locality where the blacks were overtaken and killed. In fact, about 41 years ago [this would have made it round 1871, and 28 years after the massacre], when stockriding on the Warrigal run, I remember, close to the ’Sunville’ boundary gate, near Red Hill, there was a portion of a human skeleton, said to be the remains of one of the blacks killed. How much truth there was in the the report I am unable to say, but on the Red Hill the remains of several blacks have been uncovered by cattle scraping the sand way, and the action of the wind, etc..

Walpole then added:

As far back as I can remember there were all sorts of tales in connection with this killing business, and it seemed to me everyone was more or less ashamed of the affair.

Cox concluded his article by noting that given the ’natural reticence’, it was hardly surprising that it was proving so difficult to uncover exactly what had happened.

In September the following year (Article 33, 24/9/13), Cox again took up the investigation of Macalister’s murder. This time he quoted extensively from a story he had uncovered in the Port Philip Herald of the 29th July 1843. In the story, the claimed date of the killing is later than the one previously cited by Cox. Cox appeared to accept this revision – July 1843 is now accepted as the date – and he described the material he quoted as ‘more authentic information’:

Extract of a letter from Port Albert to a mercantile house in town [Melbourne], received by the ‘Jemima’ cutter, and dated the 20th instant: – “The blacks have commenced fresh outrages, and a few days since killed Mr. Kenneth (sic) Macalister, within half a mile of his station at Port Albert. He was on horseback at the time, and armed with a brace of pistols. This marks five persons murdered within little more than 12 months.”

The extract quoted by Cox did not offer any detail of the circumstances leading to the killing. Nor was there reference to any subsequent ‘punitive expedition’:

It is reported that Mr. Macalister was decoyed from his station by a party of blacks on pretext of having found a flock of sheep that had been missing, and that having got him to a spot favourable for their murderous purpose, they set upon him with their waddies, and despatched him under circumstances of the utmost barbarity.

The same extract decried the fact that the settlers were obliged to pay ‘licences and assessments’ but they received ’no protection from the Government’.

For his part, Cox corrected Macalister’s name – Ronald not Kenneth – and he noted that … other accounts of this murder state that he [Ronald Macalister] was speared.

There is one final article worth looking at. It was number 37a and it appeared on 6/2/14. Again, Cox quoted extensively from the Port Philip Patriot (21/9/1843) but the article itself came from the The Sydney Morning Herald of 6/9/43. Cox did not provide any commentary or criticism of the material presented. His readers read it, presumably, as a factual account; although the introduction did describe the statements to be ‘highly coloured’. The Indigenous population is described as the settlers’ ‘most bitter enemies’:

‘Crimes are as openly perpetrated as the sun at noonday. And such is the force of habit that since the departure of our police magistrate the public look upon these occurrences with indifference- as matters of course.’ For instance, Mr. Macalister was dragged off his horse and cruelly murdered in the township of Alberton, his head being so totally disfigured that his countenance could not be recognised amongst his most intimate friends (this outrage being committed) by these harmless, innocent denizens of the wilds of Gippsland, bearing the anomalous cognomen of Her Majesty’s most liege subjects (we give it as our gratuitous opinion, most bitter enemies). Nor is this the only instance of the sacrifice of Christian blood by these liege subjects. Since we last did ourselves the honor of addressing your Excellency, a servant in the employment of Mr. Foster, a settler here, was killed, his body mangled and some of its members carried off, making in all within the last eighteen or twenty months the number of five precious lives sacrificed at the shrine of the implacable savages, besides a variety of hairbreadth escapes by flood and field all gone down the stream of oblivion without one question asked or given on authority.

Cox did not pick it up, but the last reference in the quote appears to be a cryptic reference to some sort of ‘frontier justice’ at work, given that the authorities were not present. Indeed, the next section of the article goes on to describe a very lawless and dangerous frontier. Alberton, specifically, was full of ‘lawless villains’ and the ‘most lawless rogues’. Highway robbery was rife and the whole place was full of sly grog shops.

Cox does not use the Macalister death and subsequent killings as a lead-in to examine the whole question of frontier conflict. He does not, for example, focus on the immediate and background reasons for the killing of Macalister. Nor does he attempt to catalogue the various killings on the same frontier. Rather, he writes about the Macalister episode as a single, isolated event. For Cox, the effort is to uncover primary sources and, to the extent possible, have the readers contribute to the discussion. The focus is on the methodology rather than the critically important history that the methodology is uncovering. Moreover, there are concerns about the methodology itself. While it is true that Cox looked at a variety of primary sources, there are other sources that he did not use. A good example is George Dunderdale’s The Book of the Bush which had been published in 1890. Dunderdale included an account of Macalister’s death and the subsequent killings, but Cox did not refer to him.

One interesting note here is that Cox certainly knew of Dunderdale’s work. In fact, he had already criticised Dunderdale’s writing. He used Dunderdale’s work to demonstrate the difference between what he saw as the two extremes of ’romance’ and ‘history’. In Article 18 (8/11/12) both Cox and ‘A W Grieg, hon. sec. Historical Society of Victoria’ had used ‘historical facts’ to expose ‘untruthful statements in Dunderdale’s “Bush Tales”’. Admittedly, there were errors – dates, places, names – in Dunderdale’s work and his style did tend towards over-writing. At the same time, his detailed description of the bloodshed and savagery on the Gippsland frontier is impossible to ignore or gloss over. Consider, for example, the following account of the operation of Tyers’ ‘native police’:

There were now ladies as well as gentlemen in Gippsland, and one day the commissioner [Tyers] sailed away in his boat with a select party. After enjoying the scenery and the summer breezes for a few hours, he cast his eyes along the shore in search of some romantic spot on which to land. Dead wood and dry sticks were extremely scarce, as the blacks used all they could find at their numerous camps. He was at length so fortunate as to observe a brown pile of decayed branches, and he said, “I think we had better land over there; that deadwood will make a good fire”; and the boat was steered towards it. But when it neared the land the air was filled with a stench so horrible that Mr. Tyers at once put the boat about, and went away in another direction. Next day he visited the spot with his police, and he found that the dead wood covered a large pile of corpses of the natives shot by his own black troopers, and he directed them to make it a holocaust. (p 276)

The following is Dunderdale’s account of Macalister’s killing and the events that followed:

At this time the blacks had quite recovered from the fright occasioned by the discharge of the nine-pounder gun, and were again often seen from the huts at the Old Port. Donald Macalister was sent by his uncle, Lachlan Macalister, of Nuntin, to make arrangements for shipping some cattle and sheep. The day before their arrival Donald saw some blacks at a distance in the scrub, and without any provocation fired at them with an old Tower musket, charged with shot. The next day the drovers and shepherds arrived with the stock, and drove them over Glengarry’s bridge to a place between the Tarra and Albert rivers, called the Coal Hole, afterwards occupied by Parson Bean. There was no yard there, and the animals would require watching at night; so Donald decided to send them back to Glengarry’s yards. Then he and the drovers and shepherds would have a pleasant time; there would be songs and whisky, the piper would play, and the men and maids would dance. The arrangement suited everybody. The drovers started back with the cattle, Donald helped the shepherds to gather the sheep, and put them on the way, and then he rode after the cattle. The track led him past a grove of dense ti-tree, on the land now known as the Brewery Paddock, and about a hundred yards ahead a single blackfellow came out of the grove, and began capering about and waving a waddy. Donald pulled up his horse and looked at the black. He had a pair of pistols in the holsters of his saddle, but he did not draw them: there was no danger from a blackfellow a hundred yards off. But there was another behind him and much nearer, who came silently out of the ti-tree and thrust a spear through Donald’s neck. The horse galloped away towards Glengarry’s bridge.

When the drovers saw the riderless horse, they supposed that Macalister had been accidentally thrown, and they sent Friday to look for him. He found him dead. The blacks had done their work quickly. They had stripped Donald of everything but his trousers and boots, had mutilated him in their usual fashion, and had disappeared. A messenger was sent to old Macalister, and the young man was buried on the bank of the river near McClure’s grave. The new cemetery now contained three graves, the second being that of Tinker Ned, who shot himself accidentally when pulling out his gun from beneath a tarpaulin.

Lachlan Macalister had had a long experience in dealing with blackfellows and bushrangers; he had been a captain in the army, and an officer of the border police. The murder of his nephew gave him both a professional and a family interest in chastising the criminals, and he soon organised a party to look for them. It was, of course, impossible to identify any blackfellow concerned in the outrage, and therefore atonement must be made by the tribe. The blacks were found encamped near a waterhole at Gammon Creek, and those who were shot were thrown into it, to the number, it was said, of about sixty, men, women, and children; but this was probably an exaggeration. At any rate, the black who capered about to attract young Macalister’s attention escaped, and he often afterwards described and imitated the part he took in what he evidently considered a glorious act of revenge. The gun used by old Macalister was a double-barrelled Purdy, a beautiful and reliable weapon, which in its time had done great execution. (p224)

Clearly, in terms of a primary resource, Dunderdale’s account is a critical reference and one of which Cox would have been aware and could have included. In fact, Dunderdale did explicitly comment on the conflict on the frontier. For example, there was this insight of Tyers’ approach to the ‘troublesome blacks’:

The blacks were still troublesome, and I heard Mr.Tyers relate the measures taken by himself and his native police to suppress their irregularities. He was informed that some cattle had been speared, and he rode away with his force to investigate the complaint. He inspected the cattle killed or wounded, and then directed his black troopers to search for tracks, and this they did willingly and well. Traces of natives were soon discovered, and their probable hiding-place in the scrub was pointed out to Mr. Tyers. He therefore dismounted, and directing two of his black troopers armed with carbines to accompany him, he held a pistol in each hand and walked cautiously into the scrub. The two black troopers discharged their carbines. The commissioner had seen nothing to shoot at, but his blacks soon showed him two of the natives a few yards in front, both mortally wounded. Mr. Tyers sent a report of the affair to the Government, and that was the end of it. (p. 265)

There was also this revealing detail:

This manner of dealing with the native difficulty was adopted in the early days, and is still used under the name of “punitive expeditions.” That judge who prayed to heaven in his wig and robes of office, said that the aborigines were subjects of the Queen, and that it was a mercy to them to be under her protection. The mercy accorded to them was less than Jedburgh justice: they were shot first, and not even tried afterwards. …

The white men brought with them three blessings for the natives– rum, bullets, and blankets. The blankets were a free gift by the Government, and proved to the eyes of all men that our rule was kind and charitable. The country was rightfully ours; that was decided by the Supreme Court; we were not obliged to pay anything for it, but out of pure benignity we gave the lubras old gowns, and the black men old coats and trousers; the Government added an annual blanket, and thus we had good reason to feel virtuous.

When every blackfellow in South Gippsland, except old Darriman, was dead, Mr. Tyers explained his experience with the Government blankets. They were now no longer required, as Darriman could obtain plenty of old clothes from charitable white men. It had been the commissioner’s duty to give one blanket annually to each live native, and thus that garment became to him the Queen’s livery, and an emblem of civilisation; it raised the savage in the scale of humanity and encouraged him to take the first step in the march of progress. His second step was into the grave. The result of the gift of blankets was that the natives who received them ceased to clothe themselves with the skins of the kangaroo, the bear or opossum. The rugs which they had been used to make for themselves would keep out the rain, and in them they could pass the wettest night or day in their mia-mias, warm and dry. But the blankets we kindly gave them by way of saving our souls were manufactured for the colonial market, and would no more resist the rain than an old clothes-basket. The consequence was that when the weather was cold and wet, the blackfellow and his blanket were also cold and wet, and he began to shiver; inflammation attacked his lungs, and rheumatism his limbs, and he soon went to that land where neither blankets nor rugs are required. Mr. Tyers was of opinion that more blacks were killed by the blankets than by rum and bullets. (p 268)

Equally, there were other accounts of conflict on the frontier for example, G H Haydon’s Five Years Experience in Australia Felix (1846), that Cox could have used. Cox obviously knew of Haydon’s work because he used it in other of this articles. But Cox was not, as it were, pulling all the threads together. He was not attempting to highlight the theme of frontier conflict and the violent dispossession and subjugation of the Indigenous population. Rather, his series of articles was offering anecdotes: individual and self-contained stories about notable events from the past. Possibly, Cox sensed that there was a ‘dark past’ but he did not set out to expose it in any great detail or depth. Nor was there any attempt to explore the fundamentals of the conflict, nor hold anyone or any party responsible. It was more a case of ‘these things – some truly evil and wrong – happened in the past but there is no direct link between that past and our present’.

Of course, it can be argued that criticising Cox for issues that his approach, 100 years ago, failed to address, is at the very least problematic and presumptuous. However, the basic tension does highlight how history comes to be written and what people choose to draw from history.

Cox’s pioneering work in the local history of Gippsland 100 years ago is very important. He certainly deserves recognition for his efforts in setting up the first, regional sub-branch (‘centre’) of the (Royal) Historical Society of Victoria. The essential methodology he employed, with its focus on uncovering primary resources, assessing such resources against each other and incorporating memory – both personal and folk – as a historical resource, and recognising its limits, was ground breaking. His ability to popularise and promote the study of (local) history and his success in having the locals become involved were also very significant. He did the locals a sense of their history.

At the same time, it is essential to locate Cox within his own history. As indicated in numerous posts, he was a staunch Imperial Loyalist, arguably the most significant one in his community at the outbreak of War. He saw the strength of the British Empire as the high point in European history. And he saw the settlement and rapid and successful growth of Gippsland as a micro manifestation of the greatness of the same Empire. For Cox, ’settlement’ – in this instance, the settlement of Gippsland – brought prosperity, progress and civilisation. Occupation and settlement as features of ‘colonisation’, were natural and proven phenomena. The sacrifices and struggles of the ‘pioneers’ would sustain the future generations. Colonisation itself was a proven model of human improvement that ‘Great Britain’ – and other European powers – had employed on a world-wide basis. Essentially, the (white) European world claimed ownership of ’new’ land and proceeded to develop it for its own interests, pushing aside, marginalising and effectively eliminating the (non-white) Indigenous population. There could be violent and cruel side-effects as this process unfolded; but the process itself was natural and inevitable and the final – as opposed to interim- outcomes were overwhelmingly positive.

As a Christian minister, Cox additionally saw the ‘hand of God’ at work. Working from a strongly narrative lens, Cox was particularly interested in uncovering and describing the role played by the Church in the settlement of Gippsland. There was a strong emphasis on how the Church laboured in the young, raw and challenging environment of Gippsland. Coincidentally, at the time he started writing – just prior to WW1- many of the local churches were celebrating their 50th anniversaries. Several of his articles focused on these celebrations: For example, Article 24 (5/3/13) covered St. John’s at Port Albert and Article 34a (8/10/13) St. Luke’s at Alberton. For Cox, the Church had survived its infancy in Gippsland, thanks to the efforts of the first clerics – ministers like the famous ’bush parson’, Rev Willoughby Bean – and was embarking on its formative phase.

As the War progressed and the focus on ‘national character’ and ‘national identity’ intensified, Imperial Loyalists such as Cox crafted a strong relationship between the ‘pioneer’ and the ‘Anzac’. As already noted, the link was made repeatedly at local farewells for those who had enlisted.

Not surprisingly, Cox was not about to look to the history of Gippsland to call into question or critique the very theoretical supports that defined and shaped his world: the greatness of the British Empire, the strength of the Church in a new and challenging environment, the pursuit of the (unique) Australian character, and the White Australia Policy. Like everyone, he was a person of his times. Cox was an agent of the Lord, in the service of his flock, researching the European occupation, settlement and development of Gippsland, in a White Australia that was an integral component of the British Empire.

References

Cox, G  1990, Notes on Gippsland History, Vol 1- 6, ed. Adams J D, Port Albert Maritime Museum.

Dunderdale, G 1898, The Book of the Bush. Containing Many Truthful Sketches of the Early Colonial Life of Squatters, Whalers, Convicts, Diggers, and Others Who Left Their Native Land and Never Returned. Ward Lock, London.

Haydon, G H 1846,  Five years’ experience in Australia Felix, comprising A short account of its early settlement and its present position, with many particulars interesting to intending emigrants. Hamilton, Adams & Co., London
See Chapter VI, Narrative of a journey from Westernport to Gipp’s land, with extracts from the journal kept on the route.

For more contemporary research on the frontier clash in Gippsland, one readily accessible source is the website of Peter Gardner, historian from East Gippsland.

Another readily accessible source is the University of Newcastle’s site Colonial Frontier Massacres in Australia, 1788-1930 and its map of massacre sites.

209. The White Australia Policy: always in the background

Before returning to Rev G Cox and his quest to uncover and present the history of Gippsland, immediately prior to, and in the first few years of, WW1, it is important to consider the reach and strength of the White Australia Policy. At that time, belief in and commitment to this national policy were essential, taken-for-granted realities.

Much has been made of Cox’s commitment to Empire and his determination that Australia had to fight for and with Britain to defend the Empire. Defence of the Empire was the defence of Australia. But within this simple formula, defence of Australia more specifically meant defence of White Australia.

At the time, White Australia was very much a work-in-progress. Much had been achieved and more was promised; but there was always the existential threat that the protective shield of the Empire – or, more specifically, the Royal Navy – could disappear and, left to itself, Australia and its dream of White Australia would fail.

By the outbreak of WW1, it was possible to see signifcant elements of the White Australia Policy in place. To begin, the dispossession and subjugation of the Indigenous population – most commonly simply referred to as the ‘blacks’ – had been achieved. Australia had been made white by eliminating the original inhabitants. As we will see later with Cox, this was a particularly violent process on the frontier in Gippsland. However, at the time, no one was keen to dwell on the violence. It was more a case of simply accepting the end result as an inevitable and desirable outcome. A ‘natural’ process had taken place. What had happened in Australia was not unique, merely another expression of Imperial policy, the economics of colonisation, European theories on race, superior technology and any number of beliefs – many of them religious – to do with manifest destiny and the ‘white man’s burden’. What was unique about Australia was that by the start of the 20C the subjugation, marginalisation and effective removal of the Indigenous population had been so complete and so effective that (white) Australians conceived of their land as one that had been, effectively, unoccupied. In comparison to other nations, Australia was a ‘new’ nation – still in its infancy –  with the promise of true greatness ahead of it.

By the time of federation, the focus of the White Australia Policy had settled on the issue of immigration. The universal political drive was to keep Australia white, even at a time when Imperial support for such a singular focus on race was becoming increasingly problematic, particularly given the rise of Japan. The theories that underpinned the highly selective immigration policy – the natural intellectual and moral superiority of the white (British) race, the inherent advantages of a homogeneous or mono-cultural society, the grave dangers of miscegenation, the industrial threat of cheap, non-white labour … – were reflected across all aspects of society, and Australia entered WW1 fully committed to its White Australia Policy. Moreover, it emerged from the War still committed to the policy. PM Hughes was feted for saving the White Australia Policy.

The critical point is that at the start of WW1, and the time that Cox was writing his history of Gippsland, the ideal of White Australia was uncontested. It was a reality that had been created by the settlers and pioneers and it now needed to be protected and enhanced, principally via a highly selective immigration policy . The dream that Australia could come to represent the ultimate flowering of the British race – in the style of C E W Bean’s writing on national character – was tangible. As a consequence, the defining attitudes to race that were integral to the White Australia Policy were commonplace and accepted as everyday realities. They were as common as people’s identification with, commitment to and belief in the Empire.

The following is a simple exercise intended to highlight such attitudes and world views. It takes short pieces from the local paper – Gippsland Standard and Alberton Shire Representative – over the period of WW1 and uses them to reveal just how common the attitudes to race that underpinned the White Australia Policy were. The reporting at the time gave no sense that the attitudes revealed were remarkable, controversial or in any way contested or disputed.

The first is a short article that appeared in mid 1914 (29/5/14). It featured a brief note on the number of “black fellows’ tomahawks” (stone axes) that people had been finding on burned-out ridges in the district (Bulga). The writer noted that the number of such artefacts found were so numerous that virtually every local household had them. They then raised the question of why that particular area had had so many ‘blacks’ and even suggested that the local historical society – this was, of course, the newly established group that Cox had set up – could investigate:

Possibly the local branch of the Historical Society could throw some light on the matter. Information regarding a tribe that has so completely passed away, and left such a number of relics behind, would prove highly interesting.

The Indigenous population – the ‘tribe’ – had ‘completely passed away’. That part of the district’s history had vanished, to the extent that it was just a passing curiosity.

There was another apparently unremarkable reference to former ‘blacks’ in the district in April 1917 (25/4/17). It was as short account about a very tall – 100 ft – tree which had recently been felled on Turton’s Track. People had noted that about 30 ft from its base, ’tomahawk incisions used for climbing’ had been cut in the tree. The question was who had made them: the ‘blacks’ or ‘white settlers’. The writer concluded that the marks were most likely the work of early settlers because they were said to be 20-30 years old whereas the ‘blacks’ had been gone some ‘fifty years’. By this reasoning the Indigenous population had ‘disappeared’ by the end of the 1860s. Again, there is this sense that even though the historical period is relatively short – some ‘fifty years’ – an entire population has simply ‘disappeared’ and virtually nothing is known about them.

Often, an ‘in memoriam’ for an old pioneer would touch on the issue of ‘disappearance’. For example, there was one on 16/6/15 for Mrs Peter Hunter who had died at 95 yo. She had been born in Scotland and arrived in Port Albert in 1858. The detail makes it perfectly clear that the settlers took over ‘occupied’ land. The Indigenous population was dispossessed. The ’success’ of ‘settlement’ saw the ‘blacks’ disappear.

They (the Hunter family) acquired property on the Sale road, where they lived to the end of their days. When first settling on their homestead they lived in a tent, and it was no unusual occurrence to have a visit from the notorious aboriginal King Morgan and members of his tribe. These blacks would come in and make themselves quite at home. The swamp on the property was the common camping ground of the blacks. These hardy pioneers successfully passed through the difficulties of early settlement, and lived to see more peaceful times.

There was another tribute to an old pioneer in the paper on 27/2/18. The deceased was Charles Thomas Lucas who died at Stradbroke in February 1918. The family had had strong connections with Yarram. The headline for the tribute described Lucas as ‘The Oldest Australian Native’ :

He was, at the time of his death, the oldest Australian native, having been born at Launceston, Tasmania, in 1822, and died in his 96th year.

The use of the term ‘native’ was employed to describe a long-standing association with the ‘new’ land of Australia and with the first colonists or early arrivals. At the time, the term was increasingly being employed to denote a sense of ‘national authenticity’, as in the Australian Natives’ Association (1871) whose membership was originally restricted to white men born in Australia. In a real sense, it was a term being re-interpreted.

Charles Lucas was described as the grandson of a public figure who came in the First Fleet. His father – one of 15 children – had moved to Tasmania where Charles was born in 1822. The family moved back to NSW in 1834 and subsequently moved into Gippsland from Omeo as ‘overlanders’. They eventually settled on 300 acres on opposite sides of Tarra Creek at Yarram. Charles Lucas married in 1856 and by that stage he was living at Bruthen. He subsequently moved to Stadbroke.

The article suggests Lucas was important because of his family’s rich history as original pioneers in so many locations and, obviously, because of the distinction of being, supposedly, the longest surviving link right back to the First Fleet.

Interestingly, in the detailed account of the family’s pioneering history, there is a reference to the dangerous sea voyage from Tasmania to Sydney in 1834. The boat had to be abandoned at Twofold Bay and the survivors had to … travel over 300 miles of wild country, infested with blacks to reach Sydney. Further, they nearly perished at the hands of the same ‘blacks’ who captured them and had … agreed upon a feast, and decided the whites should be killed at break of day. They were saved thanks to the intervention by one the ‘blacks’ … who had had dealings with early colonists, and had picked up a little broken English. The brief commentary serves as a reminder of the dangers faced by early settlers at the hands of the ‘blacks’. Before they ‘disappeared’ the ‘blacks’ had ‘infested’ the bush and posed great risk.

There were other pieces that focused on the ‘natural’ inferiority of the ‘black race’. For example, on 29/5/14 there was a piece which appears to have been taken from one of the metropolitan dailies under the headline, Life in Rhodesia. Victorian Woman’s Views. Black Servants. It detailed the opinions of a certain Mrs W E Dick who had .. . spent years in Southern Rhodesia before coming to live in Melbourne. In the piece the interviewer asks, Do you think the Kaffir makes a good servant?

Her reply was characterised by attitudes that were clearly unremarkable for the time:

Certainly; that is if you train him yourself. The first boy I had was an awful stupid, and could not do anything correctly. One morning, instead of filling the water jug with fresh water, as I told him, he pored the water into the milk jug and spoilt the day’s supply. Soon afterwards another boy presented himself, looking for work, so I engaged him, and dismissed the other one.

Similar attitudes appeared in soldier’s letters during the War. The long voyage to Great Britain served to confirm the sense of racial superiority. One such letter was from Gunner Percy Rendell. It appeared in the paper on 28/2/17. Of the transport’s stay in Durban, he wrote of some entertainment the troops had at the expense of the ’natives’:

The natives were very funny and we used to throw pennies to them and they would fight like bulldogs for them.

His impressions of Freetown, the capital of Sierra Leone, were not favourable. It was certainly not a place for white people:

The streets are not formed, and the natives squat down in the street and sell their wares, fruit, etc., while the picaninnies crowd round a fellow and ask for pennies. The population is practically all natives, and you could count the white population on the fingers of one hand. The climate is very unhealthy, which is the reason so few white people live here. After a long and tiring time of 15 days in this undesirable place the troopship got orders to put to sea…

There was also the issue of non-white labour in Australia itself and the role of the trade union movement in protecting the interests of white workers. The issues could be complex and loyalties divided. For example, in the edition of 5/2/15, there was commentary on labour disputes on the wharves in Fremantle. The issue was that some of the workers in the union there were ‘full-blooded negroes’ and, as unionists they were being given preference over white non unionists. Obviously, the implication of this arrangement was that it undermined the White Australia policy. The piece noted:

Now, it would seem that the negro can be and is in the union; and that if a married white man does not belong to a union the ‘nigger’, who does, ought to have preference.

There were also views on Australian ‘blacks’ as workers. The edition of 7/8/14 featured a description of tin mining at Bamboo Creek, 40 miles north of Marble Bar in WA. The article claimed that the ‘gins’ were employed to clean the ore while the ‘bucks’ were working on the local stations as ‘outriders, shepherds, bullock-drivers etc.’ It also noted that they … take to it fairly well, being in physique a better class than most aboriginals. There was further patronising commentary:

When left to themselves the bucks make the gins do all the work outside of hunting and fighting. They imitate the whites in dress and sport, and in many cases have acquired the art of dressing neatly.

It is also worth pointing to the number of times a direct relationship was drawn between the White Australia Policy and the protection and support of the Empire. In a piece (26/5/15) on the local celebration of Empire Day, the Rev Walklate, another key Imperial Loyalist in the local community, made the direct link between the White Australia Policy and the strategic importance of Great Britain:

People sometimes ask the question, what is the use of Empire Day? I want you to think what would Australia have been today without the help of Great Britain. Without British prestige behind us our White Australian (sic) Policy would have been impossible.

Walklate even alluded to Australia’s great fortune in this endeavour, as other jurisdictions that had attempted the same policy had failed because of the intricacies of international relationships. He cited the case of California as one example:

California could not carry out a White California policy; there would have been war with Japan.

Similar claims had been made by Senator McColl at Yarram at very start of war. The local paper (7/8/14) quoted him telling a local audience, at the same time as he announced Australia was to send an expeditionary force of 20,000 men, that Australia’s White Australia Policy was under threat:

The nations of the earth would object to our holding Australia unless we could fill it, and the Government proposed to meet this problem by bringing suitable white people here who could assist in developing the country, opening it up and defending it. The only thing that kept this country for us was the British fleet and if anything happened to it, then good-bye to a White Australia.

The preoccupation with the need to increase the population to protect the White Australia Policy was a constant. For example, this piece was from just a week earlier (31/7/14). It was on the celebration of Australia reaching a population of five million:

We reached our first million in 1858, soon after the discovery of gold showed itself an influential factor in bringing about the rapid settlement of the country. The second million arrived in 1877, the third in 1889, and the fourth in 1905. Droughts delayed the fourth; there is always a close relationship between plentitude of food and plentitude of life: prosperity means more Australian babies, more adult Australians for the future. A period of unexampled prosperity has hastened the five millionth, and he should be here in the record time of nine years from the fourth.

The five millionth baby was expected later in 1914. The need for population increase both to hold Australia and to keep it white was emphasised through the War and used as a means of recruiting. But, equally, there was a counter argument pushed by anti-conscriptionists: white Australians were being killed at an unsustainable rate and this shocking loss of life represented some sort of race catastrophe that threatened the very basis of White Australia.

As an example of the appeal – from all sides – to protect the White Australia Policy consider comments written in the paper at the time of the unveiling of the honor roll at Devon North State School (25/5/17). The claim was that people were prepared to talk ‘White Australia’ but they were not prepared to defend it. Presumably, the ‘coloured nations’ is a reference to, primarily, the Indian troops fighting as part of the British Army:

There were fit men at home talking White Australia, yet they would not fight for it: they let the blacks fight for them. The time would come when the coloured races – those who had fought for our nation – would become the inhabitants of our fair land.

There were related claims about one month later (27/6/17). This time a letter from the Creswick Advertiser – was reproduced. It was from an Australian soldier who attacked those back in Australia using the White Australia Policy to justify the No vote in the 1917 conscription referendum. The use of abusive racial stereotypes to drive home the message is taken as a given:

… we are being butchered by the people for whom we are fighting. I saw a vote ’No’ card over here, and it was ‘Keep Australia White’. Oh, my God, they ought to; if Australia was filled with men like the Ghurkas it would be a lot better off than it is at present – overrun, as it is, with such a lot of ‘Dirty Skulking Curs’. … The lowest breed of nigger is better than the majority of Australia’s present population. They don’t mind staying at home and letting us fight for them, yet the won’t come and give us a hand. What would happen if we gave up fighting?

The last example is taken from an editorial in August 1919 (27/8/19) at the time PM Hughes had returned to Australia. The editorial gave a brief account of the tumultuous welcome Hughes was given in Perth. It was taken from a longer piece in The Age (25/8/19).

When he returned to Perth, Hughes was feted. Two hundred soldiers literally pulled his car through the streets of Perth. He was the returned troops’ hero and protector. In the speech reported in The Age , Hughes acknowledged that the returning soldiers would take a while to settle back into civilian life and would almost certainly create trouble. But he declared that he was inclined to look at such transgressions with a ‘very lenient eye’. The War was over but Hughes was still attacking those who had not volunteered. He declared that it was really only the returning men who truly knew what war was like and they were the only ones who had saved the nation and kept it white.

The Prime Minister (Mr. Hughes) was enthusiastically welcomed to Perth last Saturday. Soldiers dragged the car in which Mr. and Mrs. Hughes were seated through the streets. In the course of his speech he said, vide “Age”: – The great bulk of the people of Australia know nothing of war, and very many of the people of Australia have done nothing towards bringing the victory about. (Cheers.) But for the men who went out from this country to fight, Australia would have been in chains. (Cheers.) Australia is free to-day, and is white to-day. (Renewed cheers.) It owes nothing to to those who being able to fight remained behind, but it owes everything it has to those who being able to fight went out and fought. (Cheers.)

All the above are only the briefest, local examples of the extent to which all the elements of the White Australia Policy, and all the associated attitudes, were integral to any sense of national identity, national debate and national interest at the time. By the conventional standards of our time, 100 years later, the policies and perspectives appear crude, dangerous and, of course, inherently racist. However, that was the history; and any understanding of Australia’s involvement in WW1 that does not acknowledge the influence of the White Australia Policy is manifestly deficient. Equally, for present purposes, the White Australia Policy was a significant lens through which Cox, writing at the time of the War, researched and wrote his version of the history of Gippsland.

References

Gippsland Standard and Alberton Shire Representative

For Bean’s writing on national charcater, see:

First World War Official Histories
Volume 1 The Story of ANZAC from the outbreak of war to the end of the first phase of the Gallipoli Campaign, May 4, 1915 (11th edition, 1941)
Chapter 1 Australia’s position At The Outbreak

208. Rev George Cox and his ‘Notes on Gippsland History’ (1)

 

Rev G Cox, courtesy of Yarram & District Historical Society

Several previous posts have covered the importance of the the Rev George Cox, the Church of England rector who was appointed to Yarram in 1911. Cox was one of the most important Imperial Loyalists in the local community.

Prior to his own enlistment in 1915, Cox had been actively involved with the local Rechabite Lodge and he spoke at local temperance meetings. He had supported the local Boy Scouts and had served on the committee for Yarram State School. When the War broke out he helped establish the Belgian Relief Fund Committee. Most significantly, he was very involved in the local Recruiting Committee.

Even when he was serving with the AIF, Cox maintained a connection with Yarram and his former congregation. For example, in November 1917 he returned to Yarram to preach. In his sermon, he pointed to the differences between the ‘shirker’ and the soldier in the trenches prepared to sacrifice everything. He reminded his congregation that he had always supported the ‘voluntary system of enlistments’ and he declared that he still believed this was the best method. But now, faced with such peril, Cox urged everyone to support the Hughes Government in ‘any measure brought forward which would compel the shirker to do his bit.’ That night he gave a public address in the Shire Hall to young men on the topic of ‘The National Peril’. The National Peril was the scourge of ‘venereal diseases’. There was a write up of Cox’s visit in the local paper on 21/11/17.

Cox enlisted in September 1915. In fact, Cox had tried to enlist one year earlier in late September 1914 but was rejected by the local doctors. Most probably his age would have been a factor. He was born at Edinburgh in Scotland in 1871 and was then 43 years old. Even after he enlisted, his health was still an issue and he was actually discharged (May 1916) – rheumatic fever – before he re-enlisted, but only for home service. He served with the Australian Army Medical Corps at both the Isolation Hospital, Langwarrin and the Clearing Hospital at Broadmeadows. He held the rank of a/sergeant and he was formally discharged in January 1919. Cox’s determination to enlist and, equally his determination to continue to serve in the face of poor health, would have served as a striking example to the local community.

Cox was one of the most important advocates of support for the Empire.  He used his pulpit to promote the righteous cause of the Allies, remind everyone of the greatness of the Empire and the dire challenges it faced and, in a very practical gesture, make a strong call for volunteers. For a reminder of how Cox effectively fused Christian teaching – for example, the ideal of Christian sacrifice – with support for the War refer to Post 26. Soldiers of Christ.

Another striking example of how Cox presented the Empire of Britain and the Empire of God as overlapping and mutually dependent came in the sermon he preached at Yarram on Sunday 23/5/15. It was reported in the Gippsland Standard and Alberton Shire Representative on 26/5/15. It was just before Empire Day and it also coincided with the feast of Whitsunday (Pentecost). Cox saw the British Empire as the civil and temporal manifestation of the Heavenly (Christian) Empire:

Tonight we are met for a two-fold commemoration. We stand on the eve of Empire Day, that day on which we commemorate the birthday of Her Most Gracious Majesty, the late Queen Victoria, and we commemorate her memory because of her life and character. She has left us an ideal of what a Christian ruler ought to be. And it was during her life that the British Empire received its greatest development, and was consolidated and established. And today, Whitsunday, we commemorate the birthday of the Christian Empire.

As well as offering both Christian legitimacy and active support for the War effort, Cox provided the local community with another considerable asset. From 1911 when he arrived in Yarram to 1915 when he enlisted, Cox provided the locals of the Shire of Alberton – and the broader community of Gippsland – with a running presentation of the history of Gippsland.

Previous posts that looked at recruiting drives and formal farewells and welcomes home have examined the themes that were commonly employed in speeches on such occasions and the theme of the young soldier as a worthy descendant of the original pioneers was very common. Possibly, even without Cox’s efforts, this theme would have been paramount but there is no question that Cox had provided both the background detail and the renewed interest in the early history of the local area and that there was a natural synergy between his history articles and support for the War effort. In Cox’s world view the success of the European settlement of Gippsland mirrored, admittedly only on the small scale, the inevitable success and greatness of the British Empire. Cox and his readers also saw the very real threat of defeat in the War as the denial of the very British virtues and strengths that had enabled the successful colonisation of Australia. Defeat would represent the very reversal of Australia’s history.

Cox’s efforts as a local historian were considerable. His articles on Gippsland history – Notes on Gippsland History –  which were published regularly in the Gippsland Standard and Alberton Shire Representative were detailed and extensive. As indicated, they ran from 1911 to September 1915 when he enlisted. In that period there were approximately 65 articles published. The articles recommenced in 1921 and continued to 1930. In this instance I am only looking at the articles published prior to and during the War, although this also includes a handful (4) that he wrote after he enlisted.

Interestingly, the articles were written and published in the style of a contemporary blog. Cox often revised earlier texts in view of additional research on his part, or in response to comments or criticism from readers or other researchers. He actively encouraged comments on his work and appealed for additional resources. Also, the topics on which he wrote were ordered somewhat randomly and the various threads and themes in his work were not handled in a strictly sequential manner. The work was definitely in the style of a ‘work in progress’ rather than a finished history. At the same time, the overall scope and detail of his work was very impressive and he gave the community a significant picture of its history, albeit from a particular perspective: the triumph of British colonisation.

John Adams wrote a formal history of the Shire of Alberton in 1990 and in his preface he acknowledged the value of … the many articles published by the late Rev George Cox in the Gippsland Standard. The value of the articles as resource material was always recognised, and in 1997 the Port Albert Maritime Museum re-published all the articles in a 6 volume work. John Adams also wrote the introduction for the series and, again, he acknowledged the significance of Cox’s work – These articles have for many years proved to be important research material for students and historians of Gippsland history … – and also presented an overview of their scope:

From 1911 to 1930 there appeared in the Gippsland Standard, Yarram, a series of articles which went under the heading of ‘Notes on Gippsland History’. These articles, many of them up to 2000 words in length, were the result of detailed and painstaking research on the early history of Gippsland by the Anglican minister, Rev. George Cox. They covered the explorations of Gippsland, the settlement of Port Albert and the subsequent development of Alberton and Tarraville, the early squatters and the cattle trade, the first overlanders in Gippsland and the beginnings of churches and schools in the Alberton area, concentrating to a large extent on the first twenty years of Gippsland.

The other significant feature of Cox’s work was that it was undertaken under the auspices of the (Royal) Historical Society of Victoria. The society had been established only recently in 1909 and, in fact, Cox established the first branch outside Melbourne, at Yarram, in 1911.

Cox addressed the local Australian Natives’ Association (ANA) branch at Yarram in September 1911 – the paper he presented that day became the first of the published articles in the local paper – and revealed his motivation for setting up the first ‘sub-centre’ of the (Royal) Historical Society of Victoria. He was concerned that there was no definitive history of Gippsland and that the challenge was time critical because the essential material resources were fast disappearing. As well, the ‘pioneers’ were dying. He wrote often about ‘our few remaining pioneers’. Recording the past efforts of the pioneers and celebrating their successes were of paramount importance to Cox. In the same paper, he explicitly referred to the duty of honouring the pioneer generations:

Let it be clearly understood between reader and writer that this is a national work, a work of public interest, in which all may take a share, for the honouring of those – our pioneers – who have borne the heat and toil and burden of the day, and for the instruction and inspiration of those who shall come after.

This was history with a high moral purpose, a history that could teach future generations of the enterprise, values and success of the original European pioneers. It was hardly surprising that the theme of the young soldier following in the footsteps of the pioneers became so common in local recruitment appeals.

Cox’s comments ascribe a ‘national’ dimension to the work. While the history Cox pursued was definitely focused on Gippsland, he was at least conscious of the need for a sense of Australia’s national history. Also, it is reasonable to argue that in focusing on the local history of a particular area in Victoria, he was consciously offering a model for other districts and regions to employ. All such work would thus contribute to the overall national history. This idea that a national history was required and that it could be realised, at least in part, by the work of local history groups such as the one Cox had formed needs to be seen in the context that, at the time, both the idea and ideal of an Australian Nation or Commonwealth were in their infancy. Australia has just reached the end of only the first decade of Federation. Truly national history was in only its infant stages. Of course, as matters turned out, WW1 – and particularly the Anzac Legend – would come to claim an extraordinarily powerful place in the national history.

At another meeting, this time to the (Royal) Historical Society of Victoria in Melbourne in June 1914, Cox gave a rationale for the focus on Gippsland and highlighted some of the difficulties faced. The paper was covered in an article published in the local paper on 24/7/14. Cox made the case for what he referred to as ’Neglected Gippsland’. In his view, the history of Gippsland had been omitted from what national history there was at the time. Critical explorations in Gippsland had been ignored and … the opening up of the interior of this magnificent pastoral country half a century later does not seem to have been considered worth mentioning.

Cox gave several reasons to explain why the history of Gippsland had been ignored. The issue of geographic isolation was key. In fact, Cox detailed how isolated Gippsland still remained by describing how long it had taken him to reach Melbourne that very day for the meeting. In other articles Cox emphasised just how isolated the early settlements in Gippsland had been before there was an ‘overland’ route to Melbourne. This was one of the main preoccupations in his history of exploration. Another unique feature of Gippsland’s geography that had complicated the issue of identity related to the way that the focus of the settlement changed so significantly. The centre of settlement had proceeded from Port Albert to Tarraville to Alberton and finally to Yarram and Sale. As Cox put it:

The other feature which creates much difficulty lies in the fact that instead of one place forming a permanent pivot around which settlement has developed, place after place has become the centre of an ever widening and progressive area.

Cox also gave another reason why there were such significant gaps in the history of Gippsland or, from another perspective, why there was only limited enthusiasm for uncovering the past, particularly the very early European past. There were episodes and characteristics there to which people did not want to draw attention. At the same June 1914 meeting, Cox spoke about … the fact that for several years of its early existence as a pastoral settlement it [Gippsland] was a sort of no-man’s land, its inhabitants a law unto themselves, the government apparently having neither men nor money to spare on its administration.

Interestingly, Cox himself was not a local yet he took on himself responsibility for providing the local community with its history. At the time he undertook his series of articles there was effectively no readily available, written history of the area. As Cox himself noted, the history was an oral one and there were locals who knew this oral history and who, as it were, held it in trust on behalf of the community. Cox was keen to access the oral history, match with it primary sources, identify and resolve the inconsistencies and contradictions and come up with a more definitive and critically-tested, written version of the history.

Cox knew his work would stir controversies and upset vested interests but he incorporated this tension into his basic methodology, pointedly acknowledging the different perspectives. Cox would have been able to draw on his status as the local rector to add status and gravitas to his work. The fact that Cox’s version of the history of the local area presented such a glowing vindication of European settlement – set against a background of Imperial expansion, the spread of ‘civilisation’, the ‘opening-up’ of the land, and the innate superiority of White Australia – reinforced its appeal.

This is the background to the extensive series of articles that appeared in the local paper from 1911. A future post will consider the scope, emphasis and omissions of the history.

References

Adams, J 1990, From these Beginnings: History of the Shire of Alberton (Victoria), Alberton Shire Council, Yarram, Victoria

Gippsland Standard and Alberton Shire Representative

207. Complete list 6 (T-Z)

This is the final list of all those, with an association to the Shire of Alberton, who enlisted. It covers 86 individuals with surnames T to Z. This takes the overall total to 816. Strictly speaking, there were 813 men and 3 women, all nurses (Alice Cocking, Elsie Engbloom and Ethel Horton).

It is also important to acknowledge 3 additional names:

  1. John James Lord
  2. A B Nuttall
  3. Ernest George Mitchell

These men left the Shire of Alberton to work as munition workers in the United Kingdom. At least two of the three – Lord and Mitchell – had been previously rejected for the AIF on medical grounds.

The overall figure of 816 men is dramatically at odds with the total of 446 names for the Honor Roll of the Shire of Alberton (Post 24. Honor Roll of the Shire of Alberton).

Overall, there appear to be 3 critical reasons for the discrepancy. The first is that the current list includes all those identified on the many honor rolls of local state schools. Obviously, there were cases where former students had, by the time of the War, left the district and enlisted outside the Shire and even, in some cases, in another state. Notwithstanding the fact that such individuals were no longer ‘local’ in the strict sense of the term, they were clearly still sufficiently  ‘local’ to be included on the school honor roll, which sought to honour them as past students of the ‘local’ school. It is also relevant in this context that, given the young ages of enlistment for many of the cohort, even if they were no longer living in the Shire of Alberton, their association with the Shire was often very recent.

The second critical consideration is that this current list includes all those who initiated the enlistment in process in Yarram – most commonly with a medical and the signing of the attestation papers in the presence of the Shire Secretary – and who were then recorded as having been given a railway warrant to travel to Melbourne to complete the enlistment process. Often there were men in this group who were itinerant workers and who were not well known in the district. They might have only been there for a short period of time. It is often very difficult to uncover background information on such men. At the same time, they were definitely there in the Shire and must be included for an accurate overall picture.

The third main reason for the discrepancy relates to the accuracy of the original Honor Roll of the Shire of Alberton. There are many cases where this record failed to pick up someone who was ‘local’. For example, men who lived and worked on the boundaries of the Shire – for example, Gormandale – were sometimes omitted, even though the local paper featured a farewell or a welcome home for them. Equally, there were cases where a young English immigrant, who had been working for a local farmer for a year or less, enlisted and went overseas. Some, but definitely not all, slipped from the collective memory of the local community, particularly if they opted to be demobbed in the United Kingdom. It is also important to note that, at the time, across Australia as a whole, attempts to compile the local tally of all who enlisted were often ad hoc and not as rigorous as they needed to be. Also, after the War there was a degree of ‘war weariness’ that compromised such local record keeping.

The extensive data set that sits behind this list of 816 names is very significant. As far as I have been able to pursue the research, the data set represents the complete and comprehensive picture of the AIF involvement of the total male population of one regional area of Victoria in WW1.

This final list features the 5 Willis siblings from Alberton. Two of the brothers were killed – David and Henry – and another brother – Sydney – received a medical discharge (gsw 2/10/17).

206. Complete list 5 (P-S)

This is the continuation of the complete list of all those, with an association to the Shire of Alberton, who enlisted. It covers 165 men with surnames P to S. This takes the overall total to this point to 730.

While most of the links between the individual men and the Shire of Alberton were straightforward, in the sense that their names appeared on one of the many honor rolls or memorials, there were instances where the association is less apparent and more tenuous. For example, Harold McCheyne Raymond was born (1892) in the Melbourne suburb of Brighton. He attended Church of England Grammar School in Melbourne and Geelong College in Geelong. When he enlisted in Brisbane in 1915 he gave his occupation as bank clerk. On the face of it, there is no connection to the Shire of Alberton. However, his father was Rev. Arthur Rufus Raymond and in January 1917 this clergyman was appointed to Yarram as the Church of England rector. Rev Raymond stayed at Yarram until September 1918 and just a few months after his appointment, news reached him that his son had been killed in action (9/4/17). The details of the death and expressions of sympathy were published in the local paper. While Harold Raymond probably never  visited Yarram, his service in the AIF and his death were very well known to the people of the Shire of Alberton.

Another family – Steward – in the following list demonstrates just how involved patterns of family movement could be. Fred Steward was born in Newcastle Upon Tyne in 1886. But then the family must have emigrated to Australia because a sister – Jane – was born in Victoria in 1889 and the younger brother – Mac –  who also enlisted, was born in Drouin in 1897. At the time both sons enlisted, the family was farming near Gormandale. This example of family immigration in the 1880s stands in marked contrast to all the other young, single immigrants from the UK who came to Australian as farm workers in the years prior to WW1. The 2 Steward brothers survived the War.

As always, if there are issues with any of the names or details I would appreciate hearing from you:

pcashen@bigpond.net.au

205. Complete list 4 (M-O)

This is the continuation of the complete list of all those, with an association to the Shire of Alberton, who enlisted. It covers 130 men with surnames M to O. This takes the overall total to this point to 565.

As for the previous post several characteristics stand out:

  • the number of siblings
  • the number of immigrant (UK) workers
  • the extent of mobility featured across the overall cohort

The case of John Ledger illustrates just how complex the issue of identifying individuals can be. Someone who identified himself as Francis George Moore was issued with a railway warrant in Yarram in late August 1915. At the time he said he was 19 yo and that his parents were deceased. He was a farm labourer in the district.

The enlistment was completed in Melbourne and Moore served overseas right through the War until he was discharged at the end of August 1919. One month before his discharge, Moore signed a statutory declaration stating that his real name was John Ledger and that he had enlisted under F G Moore because at the time he was under 18 yo.

With only these details, it is not possible to track John Ledger in Births, Deaths and Marriages Victoria. However it is possible that the person was Harold John Ledger, born 1899. If it was this person then he would have been about 16 yo when he enlisted.

As always, if there are issues with any of the names or details I would appreciate hearing from you:

pcashen@bigpond.net.au

204. Complete list 3 (H-L)

This is the continuation of the complete list of all those, with an association to the Shire of Alberton, who enlisted. It covers 136 men with surnames H to L. This takes the overall total to this point to 435.

As for the previous post several characteristics stand out:

  • the number of siblings
  • the number of immigrant (UK) workers
  • the extent of mobility featured across the overall cohort

As always, if there are issues with any of the names or details I would appreciate hearing from you:

pcashen@bigpond.net.au

203. Complete list 2 (D-G)

This is the continuation of the complete list of all those, with an association to the Shire of Alberton, who enlisted. It covers 122 men with surnames D to G. This takes the overall total to this point to 299.

As for the previous post several characteristics stand out:

  • the number of siblings
  • the number of immigrant (UK) workers
  • the extent of mobility featured across the overall cohort

Note also the locals who served in other armies: Italy, Canada and New Zealand.

As always, if there are issues with any of the names or details I would appreciate hearing from you:

pcashen@bigpond.net.au

202. Complete list 1 (A-C)

Because of the numbers involved and the size of tables, I have decided to create a series of  the complete list of all those men with an association to the Shire of Alberton who enlisted. The first of the series – those with surnames A to C – is published below. It features 177 names.

it is important to understand that the list takes in a range of ‘associations’ to the Shire. Obviously, the list takes in those who were born in the Shire, grew up and attended school in the Shire, were living and working in the Shire at the time they enlisted and who, after the War, returned to the Shire. But even within this group there were variations. For example, men who were not born in the Shire but who had been living and working there for several years before they enlisted. Essentially, I have used the designation of L (local) to describe anyone who enlisted from the Shire – accepting that in addition to Yarram they might also have enlisted in Melbourne or some other regional centre – and who was living and working in the Shire at the time they enlisted.

At the same time, I have used the designation Le (left) to describe those who had a previous connection to the Shire – born there, went to school there, grew up there … – but who at the time they enlisted were no longer living in the Shire. Typically, the names of these men appear on the various local, state-school honor rolls. Some of these men had left the Shire years before. At the same time, because, typically, they had attended school in the Shire and because the age of enlistment was so young, there were many cases where the interval of time they had been out of the Shire was relatively short – short enough for people to still see them as ‘local’. As has been pointed out before, many of these (Left)  names appear on either or both the Shire of Alberton Roll of Honor and the Alberton Shire Soldiers’ Memorial. One factor that came into play was the question of whether or not there were still family members residing in the Shire.

I have also identified as a separate category those who had come to Australia as immigrants (Imm) . Typically these were young – late teens or early twenties – and they were working as farm workers in the local district. Some had been in the Shire for a few years – in such cases I have also designated them as L (Local) – while others had only very recently arrived. They were mainly from the United Kingdom – most commonly England –  although there were several from Ireland.

The last group I have identified covers itinerant workers (IW).  This category describes the small number of men where the only piece of evidence to tie them to the Shire was the railway warrant issued by the Shire Secretary for travel to Melbourne to complete the enlistment process. They were obviously residing – and presumably working or looking for work – in the local area at the time they enlisted but, apart from the warrant itself, there is no other record to indicate how long they had been there.

The table covers all those for whom there is a record of war service. If the service was in the army of another (Allied) nation I have indicated this on the table. In this particular table, George Abraham Bland served with New Zealand. There is one woman in the list below: Alice Cocking who served as a nurse in both Egypt and Salonika.

The family data on the table comes from The Registry of Births, Deaths and Marriages Victoria (BDM). Where the person was born interstate or overseas or where they were born in Victoria but there is no entry for them, the equivalent data, to the extent that it is available, comes from the enlistment and service records.  In these cases the data appears in italics.

Entries highlighted in red represent individuals who have not appeared on previous lists.

As always, if there are issues with any of the names or details I would appreciate hearing from you:

pcashen@bigpond.net.au

 

201. Railway warrants 1914-1918

The official designation of the list below, which I have referred to as the list of railway warrants, was:

Australian Imperial Force
List of Recruits who enlisted with the President of the Shire of Alberton
1914. 1915. 1916, 1917, 1918

The list was hand-written by the Shire Secretary (George C Black) who was delegated to issue the railway warrants for the men to travel to Melbourne to complete the enlistment process.

The list was obviously completed over the full course of the War. The last warrant or ‘pass’ (474) was dated 11/11/18. The list also includes additional notes: ‘killed’, ‘killed in action’, ‘re-enlisted’, ‘prisoner’ etc.

The original list is held by Yarram & District Historical Society.

In compiling the list, Secretary Black allocated numbers 1 – 474. Another 21 men whose names appear on the list, normally with the note ‘re-enlisted’ were not assigned a number. This gives an overall figure of 495 names on the list.  Again, many on the list (approx. 60 ) failed the medical in Melbourne. Also, many men enlisted in other regional centres or directly in Melbourne and therefore did not apply for railway warrant, or at least  a railway warrant from the Shire of Alberton.

For all the qualifications, the list is yet another example of a record where the names of those men who ‘answered the call’ – or at least tried to do so – were entered in a routine manner over the course of the War.

On the face of it, the list would have been a very valuable resource when it came to determining a complete reckoning at the end of the War of all those served in the AIF. As noted, in itself it was not a complete record but, obviously, it could have proved a very useful resource for any master list. However, it appears that it was not used. Such an omission seems odd because the person with responsibility for drawing up the WW1 honor roll for the Shire was the Secretary (G C Black) who also drew up this particular list of warrants issued. Whatever the explanation, the list below includes the names of 79 men who were issued with a railway warrant in Yarram, who then completed the enlistment process in Melbourne and went on to serve in the AIF, who are not included on the Roll of Honor for the Shire of Alberton. The characteristics of this group of omissions will be examined in more detail later but, essentially, the group takes in unskilled workers, young immigrant workers from the UK and itinerant workers. This group of 79 omissions again raises the issue of who was considered ‘local’.

 

Page 1 (numbers 1 – 26)

Page 2 (numbers 27 – 58)

Page 3 (numbers 59 – 89)

Page 4 (numbers 90 – 120)

Page 5 (numbers 121 – 152)

Page 6 (numbers 153 – 185)

Page 7 (numbers 186 – 217)

Page 8 (numbers 218 – 246)

Page 9 (numbers 247 – 276)

Page 10 (numbers 277 – 309)

Page 11 (numbers 310 – 240)

Page 12 (numbers 341 – 369)

Page 13 (numbers 370 – 401)

Page 14 (numbers 402 – 432)

Page 15 (numbers 433 – 461)

Page 16 (numbers ? – 474)