Isabel of the Erlistoun
I have recently been sent the following story by Shirley Mayors. It was written by her mother as dictated by her own mother, Isabel Dwyer, Shirley’s Grandmother. It’s a fascinating story about how hard life was in these early Goldfields days.
The Baneygo Mine – Photo Shirley Mayors.
It was a far cry from being a member of a large family in the cool green midlands of Tasmania to a prospectors wife in a shack in the far Goldfields of Western Australia at the beginning of the century, but this was to be the fate of Isabel BAILEY. Born at Oatland’s Tasmania in 1872, on a farm that was built around a courtyard to discourage the entry of bushrangers in its early days. She was the eldest of 12 children of John and Susan Bailey and the family was brought up as strict Presbyterians. As she grew up Isabel graduated from the care of her younger siblings to become a teacher at the local school. Later, when the size of the family dictated a move to a large and undeveloped property at Lake Tiberius where there was no school, she devoted herself to teaching the younger children for a number of years. This she must have done very well if judged by the long letters in beautiful handwriting which passed between the family in later years.
Employees of the Baneygo Gold Mine c 1908 – Photo from Jack Dwyer of Northam
In the neighbouring town of Rhyndaston lived the Dwyer family – another large family whose eldest son was John, who, from the time when he was thirteen when his father died, had been the mainstay of the family. He became interested in mining on the West Coast of Tasmania as a quicker way to make money than farming and was one of the many who travelled to Coolgardie in Western Australia in 1894. Isabel and John corresponded and were engaged for some time before their marriage in 1905.
Then began a strange way of life for the gentle Isabel. She found herself in a corrugated iron cottage, hessian lined, 50 miles east of Laverton which was at the head of the railway which had just been built. Fortunately, at first she had a neighbour, a Mrs Reichelt, but this was not to last for long for this mine of her husbands was not paying its way and he decided to develop another a few miles away. This was named the Westralia Tasmania and was considered sufficiently promising to be worth setting up a crushing battery and all the equipment necessary for setting up a full-scale plant for mining ore and extracting the gold. This meant a slightly more comfortable home, but its greatest amenity was its ‘Coolgardie Safe.’
Needless to say, medical help did not exist at all nearer than Laverton, so when her baby was to due she travelled to Kalgoorlie, but the first child only lived for a few days and then Isabel was so desperately ill that the next three children were born in Tasmania over the following seven years. It must have taken a very stout heart to have taken the journey, firstly 50 miles by sulky to Laverton, then 600 miles by train to Perth and then a sea voyage to Hobart whilst seven months pregnant. But it meant the comfort and help of her family for a short time. However, when she returned in 1914 with her youngest baby, the Westralia Tasmania Gold mine was worked out, so a further move was made further outback, 100 miles from Laverton, to the Mulga Queen. A while later, with the war in Europe having repercussions even so far away, the family moved again this time to the Augusta Gold Mine which was only three miles from Laverton where John Dwyer became Battery Manager.
The Monowal Gold Mine on the Erliston, with the plant erected on it by the Dwyer Brothers, two me who in the early part of this century to develop the Goldfields beyond Laverton – Photo from Jack Dwyer of Northam
With the war’s end came another move and another corrugated iron and hessian home to be built, this time at Duketon, which some years before had been a small mining community. All that now remained was a string of shafts and open cuts, a few heaps of broken bottles and rusting tins and a couple of Pepper trees to mark an old garden. One of the shafts was believed to be extraordinarily rich – if only the water could be coped with. This developed and rose so quickly in the mine that it had beaten the previous owners, but John Dwyer was a good engineer and considered his pumping set-up could deal with it. At this time ore from the mine was to be carted back to the Westralia Tasmania for crushing as the battery remained there. Results were disappointing and the water, was an ever-increasing hazard, so a windmill was put on the shaft and the mother and children settled down to wait, while the father returned to try to revive his original Baneygo mine there having been a rise in the price of gold which made this feasible.
John, Isabel and baby Joyce with three people from the local mob – Photo Shirley Mayors
This was a very trying time for all – there was no regular mail service for the rail head, and all stores had to be carted by wagon and bought in quantities to last some months. Flour was often full of weevils on arrival, perishables impossible and there was little possibility of borrowing if one ran out of a commodity. While her husband was away at Baneygo, as he was for some weeks at a time, he was concerned for the welfare of the family, whilst Isabel, on her part, lived in fear lest some accident befall him in the hazardous work of mining. As she had done in each of the places she had lived, she turned to gardening which was always a great solace and satisfaction to her. It was also a particularly useful source of provisions and there were a number of times stores arrived late and the garden produce saved the family from hunger.
The apricot tree that bore ‘Extravagantly’ at Duketon – Photo Shirley Mayors
The Duketon garden was a delight – the over-abundant water came into its own and wonderful crops of all sorts of vegetables were produced. Cabbages and trombone marrows grew riotously in the fertile red soil. There was even an apricot tree grown from a stone that thrived. It was a lonely life with only the arrival of a prospector from one of the few scattered ‘shows’ with mail when someone had been to town, or maybe a stockman with some beef from a station kill. The station was known as ‘Salt Soak’ later to become Banya Downs, the homestead being about 15 miles away. On a few occasions, the Laverton policeman on official duties (at one time David Hunter who was later to become police commissioner) or an exploring part heading towards the Warburton Ranges with a string of camels would call.
Billy Hills Station Erliston 1936, Store ute stuck in creek – Photo SLWA
The local Aborigines called frequently and some were employed to help dig the garden or chop wood or shoot a kangaroo for meat. One was also employed to find and harness the horse teams who were grass fed and tended to stray. This fringe area of the desert was the first point of contact for some of the natives and often Mrs Dwyer was the first white woman they had seen. Relations were friendly as they were treated as well as the scant resources would permit, though at times the vegetable garden would be short of a few melons.
The Dwyer children, Geoff, Joyce and Ian in the amazing vegetable garden which was often the only source of food – Photo Shirley Mayors
Only on three occasions was there any unpleasantness. On the first occasion an aboriginal boy had been taken away, presumably out of his tribal territory by a prospector and his mother, with several friends, camped in front of the house and threateningly demanded the return of her boy. Fortunately, one old woman ‘Howie’, who was always remembered with gratitude and affection, arrived and smartly dispatched the intruders with a vigorous flow of her own language.
During the Westralia Tasmania days there was a war carried on between the Erliston and Lake Darlot tribes and on one occasion, the Lake Darlot warriors arrived at the mine with the intent of killing several of their enemies who had fled to the white men for protection where they hid in the Battery House. One of the white men fired a shotgun into the air to frighten off the attackers. Fortunately, the Darlot natives withdrew but ultimately they managed to catch and kill some of the local tribesmen before returning home. As the Dwyer home was only about 100 yards from the mine it is not hard to imagine the fear of a mother with young children.
The third occasion of trouble came when the daughter of a truculent and uncivilised aboriginal man went to live in the camp of a prospector who lived a mile away from the Duketon home. It’s not known if he objected to this liaison but for some time he patrolled around the house shaking his spear and apparently shouting threats while the family remained inside.
As the children grew older, education became an increasing problem until in 1919, the WA Education Dept commenced correspondence classes which were a godsend. The Dwyer children became foundation members and their mother’s early teaching experience had already helped them immensely. It was a great inspiration to belong to this new and novel school, combined with the access of up to date methods and materials, plus the friendly personal interest of those first initial teachers was something the Dwyer family would always remember with gratitude – especially the mother who appreciated to the full what this help had meant.
So life went on, lonely and lonelier still for the little mother when the eldest child received one of the Correspondence Classes scholarships and left to attend high school. By this time it was evident that fate never did intend to shine on John Dwyer’s dream of developing a rich mine. So by 1924 plans were made, with the help and advice of an old friend Mr Harkness of the West Australian Bank, a share was purchased in an undeveloped farming property near Northam.
This of course caused major upheaval. The house had to be pulled down and loaded onto wagons to be carried to the rail head. As many possession as possible, including livestock as were likely to be useful in the future, were put aboard the goods train. The family traveled in the guards van, where on arrival in Northam, everything had to again be transported by wagon to the new farm some 17 miles away and then the task of reassembling everything began. All these involved months of living in a tent, carrying water for hundreds of yards for household use and for a time cooking in the open. Much of the hardship naturally fell on Mrs Dwyer, who, though her health by now was not good, at once commenced to plant another garden, even digging the virgin soil herself.
A more substantial house, later loaded onto drays, to the rail head, then transported to Norseman then to Southern Brook – Photo Shirley Mayors
Most would think that the years from 1905 to 1924 were sufficient pioneering for any woman but settling on this undeveloped property was simply to start all over again. The next ten years saw much development on the farm, but during that time the depression had to be faced which made conditions much harder. However, with the help of the two sons, a very fine farm emerged by 1942 when John Dwyer died. Mrs Dwyer continued to live on the property, still doing much of the housework herself, taking an interest in her church and friends and local affairs until the deterioration of her health sent her to live with her married daughter in the Perth Hills until her death in 1948.
Moya Sharp
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