Caroline Chisholm

by Sarah Goldman

  During her Melbourne speech she mentioned land nine times, but licences only twice, and then only in relation to the cost of land. Almost as an afterthought, and only at the end of her hour-long talk did she make a glancing, almost out of context, though very positive, reference to male suffrage, saying, “The diggers are an orderly class, and if universal suffrage should be adopted anywhere in the world, it is here.”24 That comment, though, was sandwiched between her constant references to the land question.

  The availability of land was a concern for the diggers, but nowhere near as burning an issue as the cost and injustice of the mining licences. Across Victoria, diggers paid £1 each month for a gold licence that entitled them to work a plot of earth measuring 3.6 square metres. Many miners lost most of one day of each month queuing at the Gold Commission’s headquarters to buy the certificate. The diggers felt the cost of the licence was exorbitant, and their anger was fuelled by agitators who derided it as a tax and asserted that there should be no payment without a say in government. Opposition to the levy dated back to 1851, almost immediately after the licence had first been imposed. By 1853, growing unrest resulted in the Red Ribbon Agitation in Bendigo, when more than twenty thousand miners signed an anti-licence petition. By 1854, in the months leading up to Caroline’s visit to the goldfields, the issue had become red raw. The Bendigo Advertiser alluded to the disquiet when reporting Caroline and Archibald Jnr’s trip: “Mrs Chisholm herself is, no doubt, undecided as to what steps she will take in the direction of the diggings, as, from their unsettled character, they are scarcely all that she could desire for her protégé.”25

  It is simply stunning that Caroline could have lived in Melbourne in the spring of 1854, visited diggings and gold towns, attended receptions and spoken to diggers and the press, and not have been aware of the intense fury that was only a few weeks from exploding. It seems that she simply ignored it. That was strangely unlike her. Until this point, Caroline’s success derived partly from her ability to always have her finger on the pulse of events and then exploit that insight to achieve her goals. The impenetrable bubble in which she appears to have encased herself at this time, and her seeming and unusual lack of empathy for the underdog, suggest that she either thought she understood more than the locals, had lost any real interest in the difficulties of the immigrants at the diggings, or was simply too tired or too unwell to be seriously bothered with the issue.

  Events on the goldfields came to a head in November. On the day when The Argus reported on Caroline’s public lecture in Melbourne, 11 November 1854, some ten thousand miners gathered at Bakery Hill, opposite the government encampment, to create the Ballarat Reform League. It demanded the end of the licences and full adult male suffrage by secret ballot. These demands were not dissimilar to those of the English Chartist Movement, which had been effectually cauterised in 1848. The former Chartists and radicals leading the miners’ movement came from disparate backgrounds across the British Isles, America and Europe but, despite any differences in nationality, religion or class, they had found common purpose in the Antipodean goldfields. By the end of the month, at the Gold Commissioner’s request, reinforcements of both troopers and police had been sent from Melbourne, and the miners had elected a more militant leader, Peter Lalor, who had arrived in the colony just two years earlier aboard the Scindian, one of Caroline’s society’s boats. He ordered a stockade to be built on the Eureka lead-mining site and had armed men swear allegiance to a blue flag bearing the white stars of the Southern Cross constellation, which was said to have been designed by a Canadian miner, Henry Ross. It became known as the Eureka Flag.

  At about three o’clock on the morning of Sunday, 3 December, almost three hundred soldiers and police marched towards the stockade, outnumbering the miners by about two to one. No one is certain who fired first, but the result was brief and brutal. At the end of the one-sided battle that lasted little more than ten minutes, at least twenty-two miners were dead, along with six police. Peter Lalor escaped, although his arm was later amputated as a result of his injuries. Of the 120 miners detained, thirteen were brought to trial in Melbourne. All were acquitted. The Ballarat Gold Commissioner was removed from his post, to be quietly reassigned to an insignificant position elsewhere in Victoria.

  The resulting inquiry and report led to a number of changes, most of which the miners had demanded, including the abolition of gold licences, to be replaced by an annual certificate and a tax levied on the value of the gold they collected. Even more significantly, by November 1857, full suffrage, with a secret ballot for every white male over the age of twenty-one, had been legislated. As had another, far from admirable, demand by the miners: the introduction of restrictions on Chinese immigration, an early herald of the abhorrent White Australia Policy.

  Caroline seemed totally divorced from the stirring events that had occurred. She was still overlooking the issues of the miners’ licences and male suffrage, as though she were living in a parallel universe, and, unlike earlier, she now seemed to disregard the land rights of the Indigenous people. She took up her pen within days of the Eureka Stockade uprising to criticise the governor, Sir Charles Hotham, and his government’s financial management, and to suggest that the bloodshed had to do with the need for land rather than rights:

  Sir . . . When we consider the rich and beautiful country God has given to us — a country that waits only for the plough to give us wheat — the vine to give us wine — the olive to give us oil — every luxury and comfort that men can desire is within our reach, only waits our bidding. Gold lies at our feet, and yet with all these advantages we are on the verge of national insolvency, and the lands of our people are stained with blood.

  May the frightful and sorrowful position we are in induce us all with one spirit to co-operate in bringing about a more creditable state of things. Let us cast aside all party feeling or class interest: — let us retrench, economise . . . Let us fling to the wind the wild fallacy that public works carried on with borrowed money is fitting employment for newly arrived immigrants. We have too long indulged in taxing . . . We have become . . . a nation of consumers, instead of producers. We must alter our system, if we wish to recover character: and if Sir Charles Hotham is a wise man, he will at once call to his assistance that first minister of finance, the Plough.26

  The crucial democratic values that evolved from the Eureka Stockade cannot be denied, but nor can the congenital belief in the value of home and land ownership that has pervaded Australian culture since before Federation. From her early days in New South Wales, and then again in Victoria, Caroline stood up to the squattocracy, championing the idea that it was not just a necessity but a right of all free people to have the ability to own their own plot of ground. It is a discussion that still resonates in twenty-first century Australia.

  *

  Caroline’s expedition to the goldfields did at least result in one significant scheme. It was her own, original idea, although to some extent it was based on the immigration depots she had established in the 1840s in New South Wales. She decided that a network of shelters needed to be built along the major routes to the goldfields, to provide temporary accommodation for travellers. To garner support for her plan, she adopted her usual strategy of writing letters to influential figures in the community, government and the press, and holding public meetings. Though she had some success with the newspapers, it wasn’t surprising, with all that was going on in the goldfields, that she received much less publicity than she had in the past. Nevertheless, her idea found favour with the community and the government, which offered to fund it up to a value of £3800.

  Caroline’s “Shelter Sheds” — later known as “Chisholm’s Shakedowns” — were built on Crown Land, at a distance of one day’s walk from each other. Each shed was designed to accommodate families, as well as up to thirty single men and ten single women, and had stabling, a shed for carts, two cookhouses and two washhouses. Wood, water, candles and basic rations were sold on site at set
rates by station keepers, who had their own house next door. A bed for a night cost 6d for each adult and 3d for each child. Wood and water for cooking cost another 6d per adult, or 3d for a child. Tickets for the sheds were sold in both Melbourne and Britain. Caroline was prescriptive about the costs because she was very conscious of not competing with the various stores and established inns along the tracks.

  A poster advertising the Shelter Sheds set up by the Chisholms in Victoria (Museums Victoria)

  The first ten sheds were constructed along the 120-kilometre route from Melbourne to Castlemaine, at Essendon, The Gap, Gisborne, Keilor, Keilor Plains, the Black Forest, Woodend, Carlsruhe, Malmsbury and Elphinstone. Tenders were called to start the work in April 1855 and the shelters were ready by Christmas that year. Caroline headed the society set up to establish and manage the sheds.27 The society secretary was her old friend and early biographer, Eneas Mackenzie, who since 1853 had held a position as Under Secretary with the Victorian Government (at a salary of £450 per year).28 Caroline found married couples to run the sheds. Much of the following year she spent travelling backwards and forwards along the route, checking that they were operating to her expectations. Disappointingly, although the ten sheds built along the Castlemaine route were successful and well maintained, no others were commissioned. There is no firm reason as to why, when the Castlemaine sheds were so useful, that more were not built on other routes. The most likely explanation is that by late 1855 Caroline’s health had become an issue and without her committed enterprise, the government failed to continue the programme.

  There is something about Caroline’s determined focus on her Shelter Sheds that suggests that she was striving for relevancy in a changing world. Certainly, whilst she struggled to excite the powerful and the elite with her vision for the sheds, as well as land reform, there were no ongoing consultations with the prominent lawmakers of the day, as there had been in earlier years in Sydney and London, and no invitations to appear before select committees. If anything, her various, still energetic letters in the press, particularly regarding land and immigration, were mostly ignored in government circles.

  *

  With her Shelter Sheds, writing her letters to the press, and lobbying the government to free up land, Caroline had enough work to keep her busily based in Melbourne. She also took over her husband’s ongoing work with family reunion. Throughout the previous few years, Archibald had let first his home and then his business be an address through which newly arrived immigrants could contact family or friends. Advertisements in the Melbourne newspapers during the 1850s indicate that Caroline first assumed this responsibility whilst living in Flinders Lane and continued it in Elizabeth Street.

  When the Chisholms received the balance of the testimonial money in 1855, it made a significant alteration to their lives. The family kept the Elizabeth Street store and added to it a warehouse and retail business just around the corner in A’Beckett Street. Archibald, along with Archibald Jnr and Henry, had other plans too: they wanted to quit Melbourne for what they probably considered a more promising opportunity in a rural setting. They bought a well-known mixed business in Kyneton, northwest of Melbourne, previously owned by Joseph Rogers and Robert Harper.29 Rebranded Chisholm Brothers, the business may have been an attempt by Archibald to ensure that his sons had a future with an ongoing income. The name change was significant: the Melbourne stores had been called Chisholm & Sons, so now, presumably, Archibald was hoping that his boys would take over most of the work, giving him a chance for a quieter life as an overseer.

  The purchase of the new business in Kyneton meant that the family was split in two once again, and that they reverted to maintaining two households, a costly exercise. For the next few years, Caroline lived mostly in Melbourne, in A’Beckett Street, with, possibly, William running the city store, whilst Archibald Snr, Archibald Jnr and Henry were in Kyneton working in the new shop. The three younger children, Sydney, Caroline, and Monica, were also most likely in Kyneton, with the governess and housekeeper Mrs Clinton, although it is possible that they may have remained, at least some of the time, at Caroline’s home in Melbourne, with Mrs Clinton looking after them.

  It was about this time that Caroline first experienced the ill health that would remain with her, in varying degrees of severity, for the rest of her life. She suffered from some sort of kidney trouble, but it is unclear what illness she had or how it manifested itself. This affliction may have been the reason why she was unable to spend more time at the goldfields during the previous year; however, that is speculation, as there is no indication that she was unwell at that time. Being within easy reach of a city doctor may have kept her in Melbourne whilst most of the family moved to Kyneton; on the other hand, she may simply have wanted to continue her work with the Shelter Sheds, which required regular travel between Melbourne and Castlemaine.

  In 1855, Kyneton was a thriving centre of some two thousand people. A local correspondent for the Melbourne Argus writing in December that year was fulsome in his praise for the township: “The principal buildings are the steam flour and saw mill, hospital, Bank of New South Wales, and National School — all of excellent design and substantial masonry, built of the blue-stone that abounds here.”30 The correspondent went on to describe the four houses of worship servicing members of the Church of England, the Independent, Wesleyan and Roman Catholic churches; a Mechanics’ Institute; schools; and a new printing press. As well, Kyneton had two newspapers, The Kyneton Advertiser and The Kyneton Observer.31 The correspondent continued, “I may add that Kyneton is situated on the Campaspe, fifty-eight miles from Melbourne, on the main road to Castlemaine . . . Bendigo, &c, and (in the style of the old geography books) is celebrated for its salubrity, rich soil, and plentiful supply of good water.”32

  After ten years in London and Melbourne, Kyneton must have felt like the perfect tree change for Archibald and the children. The Chisholms’ shop, on High Street, opposite the Limerick Hotel, was a nineteenth-century version of a supermarket, selling, according to its advertising, an eclectic mix of items, ranging from iron bedsteads, lanterns and Cork butter to sperm whale candles, ladies’ bonnets and cases of brandy. Caroline would have had ample opportunity to visit her family while supervising the construction and operation of her Shelter Sheds. Kyneton was about two-thirds of the way to Castlemaine, so no doubt she combined Shelter Shed business with visits to the family; in January 1857, she mentioned in a letter to The Argus that she had travelled through the Black Forest six times the previous winter, the forest being much closer to Kyneton than to Melbourne.33

  If its numerous newspaper advertisements are anything to go by, the business in Kyneton was prosperous for a time and the Chisholm men were well received in the town. Archibald became a magistrate and, despite his evident compassion, was none too lenient with his sentences, such as the penalty he imposed upon an unhappy villain named William Simmons, who received one month’s imprisonment with hard labour for stealing a leg of mutton.34 Even greater recognition lay ahead for the Chisholm name, of a kind that was out of reach for Caroline.

  The town of Kyneton, Victoria, in the mid-1800s (State Library of Victoria)

  In 1856, with all the passion and optimism of a juvenile society, Victoria’s colonial leaders introduced one of the keystones of the modern democratic process, the secret ballot. Having agreed to hold a secret ballot following the events at the Eureka Stockade, the lawmakers grappled with how to instigate it effectively. The idea of a secret ballot was not new — it went back to the days of ancient Athens and Rome. In the modern era, its revival began in France with the 1795 Constitution following that country’s revolution, but there it was a haphazard affair, voters writing the name of their preferred candidate on a ballot paper at home or picking up one from a candidate’s supporters in the streets. Such a system could easily be abused. The system that the men of Melbourne created, and which became known as the Australian ballot and has since been copied throughout the democratic world,
ensured the ballot would not be contaminated. The two most important provisions were that the government would control the printing of official ballot slips and it would employ dedicated, impartial electoral officers to oversee the whole election process. Another essential and now widely adopted innovation was the introduction of private booths in which voters would fill out their ballot papers.35 These measures were trialled in the vote for Victoria’s first elected bicameral government, held in 1856. Only white males over the age of twenty-one who met certain property conditions were entitled to vote, however.