The Great Unwashed Preserver of the Peace

Jolly’s Bath – by Spinifex

It was hot, something like 100 deg in the Victoria Hotel passage, and about 120 in the police tents. The ‘cosmopolites’ of the old camp were as cool as they could get in common khaki, pants and soft shirts, the latter unbuttoned at the neck, showing, a fichu of brown breast. They were also as porous as pumice, for as fast as they drank huge “schooners” of “shandy, or fizz and soda, the liquid oozed out, and evaporation immediately ensued- they had not only the pleasure of drinking but the external cooling effect as well.

Victoria Hotel Coolgardie 1896 – Photo TROVE

In those days water was worth nearly as much as beer in the open market, for it had to be condensed, and the demand was so great that on the occasion of Jolly’s dilemma, there, was a partial famine. Jolly was a large constable who did not like to be hustled, and he only arrested one drunk per week, just to keep his job. But Jolly was not inconvenienced by the scarcity of water, for he had no love for it, and at a later day would not have expressed any enthusiasm over Sir John’s great scheme.

Jolly was a lizard and could live without water.

“Send Jolly in to me,” called the sub. “Yes, sir.” “Ah! That you. Jolly ?” asked the sub., without looking up from his deal table there were no roller desks east of the Cross at that time. “Yes sir,” said Jolly, standing to attention. “Well, Jolly’, you have to have a bath.” The six feet of uniform moved as if it was going to approach in protest. “No, Jolliy, stay there over by the door.”

“But the water, sir, it’s half a crown a gallon, and I’d need four gallons at least”

“You’ll want ten gallons, I’m thinking, but, never mind, Jolly, you must have a bath. A lot of the boys have been objecting. And, ‘pon my word, I object, too. Now go over to Harry Pearce’s, have a real good shower of salt water, and then have a gallon of condensed to rinse with. That’ll cost five bob. You can charge it up to the health account.”

“Very well, sir.” Jolly saluted and side-stepped out. He went round to the barracks and met Corporal Tankard, who held his breath as long as he could, and then gasped for oxygen as Jolly expostulated at the indignity put upon him the allegation that he was malodorous.

The corporal said “Look here, if you don’t go and get deodorised there will be a mutiny in the force, It’s brewing. Bustard, the English recruit, has spent his pay in buying up all the eau-de-cologne in the place, and he says he’s blown out. Take the tip Jolly, and have two baths, or you’ll find yourself cremated.”

Tankard grabbed his nose and fled, while the ‘great unwashed preserver of the peace’ shed his uniform and went across to Harry Pearce’s athletic hall where the exponents of biff, by sleight of hand, extracted the gold from the pockets of miners and placed it in their own. “Hullo ! “yelled Harry, “What’s the matter. Jolly, want the loan of a quid? ” “No, but I want something more precious.” “Well, don’t  come too near keep to leeward won’t you.” “Alright, but don’t make a song about it.”

“What is it, Jolly that ye want, is it me? “No, I don’t, but I want a shower. About six gallons o’ salt and one o’ fresh to finish up with.” “Want it now? ” ” Of course.” “All right, don’t get excited” “What’s it cost? ” “Just what it costs me. Don’t want to make anything out of you, Jolly. Don’t you want a scrape down with hoop iron, too ? ”

That was too much for Jolly, and he jumped up and flapped away in an awful hug. It was a terrible insult, and he mentally reckoned to watch Harry’s club for infringements from now on. It was bad enough for his sub-inspector to order a bath, but for Harry Pearce to suggest that he should be scraped as well, even Jolly was hurt!

The wounded constable started back for the barracks, meditating the writing out of his resignation. He saw Corporal Tankard coming out and unloaded his indignation. “Well, Jolly,” said the corporal, “you know the sub has spoken and the chaps are sure to rouse, so please yourself.

That night Bustard and some of the others decided that they would have to do something, and it was suggested that they should lure Jolly down to Silverthorne’s dam, and pitch him in. This waterhole had been excavated at the eastern end of Bayley Street, and all the drainage of the camp went into it. The awfulness of the liquid can be imagined. No one who did not wish to commit ‘typhoid suicide’ would dream of drinking it, but some of the bakers made bread with it and charged 7d. for the 2lb loaf. Ugh !

Coolgardie Police Camp 1896 – Photo SLWA

The conspiracy spread, but the point was how to get Jolly onto the brink of the microbe pool. Sailor Bill had been missing for two days, after the failure of his elopement, and it was suggested that Jolly should drag the dam for his body. Bustard was to accompany him and seize some accidental opportunity to bump against Jolly. Early next morning the sergeant summoned Jolly and heroically pretended that he did not know the insulted constable had not had his bath.

“Jolly, go down with Bustard and see if you can find Sailor Bill in Silverthorne’s dam. Get whatever dragging apparatus you want, and hurry off! ”

It was about 9 o’clock when the victim and his companion got down to the dam and were making ready to start operations. Although the water was pea-soupy, it was fairly deep, and the banks were pretty precipitous. There were very few youngsters in the Old Camp at that time, but what there was generally managed to scent a sensation. Very soon three, or four came along to watch the proceedings and scream like cockatoos when anything happened.

Just as Jolly had thrown in some grappling hooks there was a yell from the opposite side, and he saw one of the kiddies struggling in the water – – In plunged Jolly to swim across and get to the drowning child. At that very moment, Bustard had made a lurch to collide with Jolly and found there was no Jolly there, and in he went with a loud, sickening splash Consequently, there were, three persons in the water, and only one could swim, Jolly !!!

There was no hesitation about the latter, for he struck out and reached the little one in no time, and landed him on the bank to be watched by his companions. Then he looked for Bustard, who was doing his last round with Asphyxia. Like another Hercules, Jolly ran round to the nearest point and jumped in and wrestled with death for the body of the apparently drowned bobby.

An hour later Jolly was the hero of the Old Camp and Harry Pearce made him a present of ten gallons of condensed water wherewith to rinse himself, and that’s how Jolly got his bath.

There was a sequel – The father of the kiddie who was saved gave Jolly au interest in a show at the 42 Mile, and when it was sold to an English expert in brilliant khaki and leggings, Jolly’s share panned out at £2000.