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| Bush Inn near Ipswich - note Aboriginal Man and Woman |
We’ll have a spree in town,
We’ll live like pigs in clover,
And it’s many the cheque
Poured down the neck,
Of many a Queensland drover.[1]
In 1854, a correspondent to the Moreton Bay Courier lamented the scale
of intemperance in Ipswich.[2]
I believe that much of the ill-repute arises from the
periodical influx of careless and thirsty fools, who earn their money in the
bush, and "melt their cheques" in Ipswich. At the same time there is
one practice to which I feel that I ought to call imperatively the attention
both of the public and of the public authorities. I allude to the practice of
selling liquors on the Sunday, a practice carried to an outrageous extent by
the publicans, and disgracefully winked at by the constables.
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| Nicholas Street, Ipswich (Central Hotel is on the left) |
Those “on the spree” continued their debauch even on the Lord’s Day.
The scenes which arise hence are most offensive to all
lovers of decency, and especially to all who desire to see the Sabbath day kept
holy. One instance, among many, will serve. It was communicated to me by one of
the most respected inhabitants of this town, with a special request that I would make it public. As this
gentleman was passing a certain public house in or near Little Ipswich, on
Sunday, 17th ult., at 5 o'clock in the afternoon, four or five men turned cut
in the street, from the said public house, stripped naked to the waist, to have
a fight, and this in the sight of a congregation returning from the worship of
God.
The Spree often had much more serious outcomes.[3]
MURDERS AND SUICIDE.--We have just been made acquainted
by a bush correspondent with the following particulars of a dreadful
catastrophe, which occurred at a public-house. Two men, it appears, have been
murdered, and one of the murderers has been apprehended, while the other
committed suicide, preferring to fly into the presence of his Maker rather than
meet an earthly tribunal.
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| Roughly Built Bush Hotel |
It would appear
that a number of persons had been drinking about the inn, and, on some quarrel
ensuing, one of them took up a gun and shot another dead on the spot; another,
who was a shoemaker, residing in the neighbourhood, took up a tomahawk, and
felled another man (a shepherd), who had been on the spree, to the ground, and
knocked out his brains.
The person who perpetrated this cowardly deed went a
short distance, and committed self-destruction by cutting his throat, which was
so dreadfully mangled by the wound that he died almost instantaneously. The
other murderer, who used the gun to affect his dastardly purpose, was
apprehended. We have no reason to suppose there was any cause other than a
drunken riot to account for the whole affair; indeed, so reckless are our bush
people in their cups that it is surprising more murders do not occur.
Others on the spree took advantage of their visit to town to get
married and not for the most honourable purposes.[4]
Who is there with any lengthened experience of the
interior of the country that has not seen the ill effects of men coming to town
and marrying the first young woman who will, at a moment's notice, go with them
to church? Many men, reckless of consequences to themselves or others, get
married without any intention of living with their wives, or supporting them
after the few days or weeks during which they are bent on amusing themselves?
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| Wedding Party in front of a Bush Hotel |
When their "spree" is over they are off up the
country again, leaving their deluded victims, most likely not the first they
have so served, to a life of misery and shame. This is often the commencement
of their career with many of the unfortunate young women who crowd our streets.
Then in nearly all the cases brought to trial before the criminal courts, it
appears that the female witnesses are married women, but not living with their
husbands.
Some characters would go to extraordinary lengths to prolong their
spree.[5]
Charles King, an old offender, was charged with
drunkenness. This was the same old joker who, some time since, pretended to
have been bitten by a black snake and had his thumb amputated, which story, it
will be remembered, he told for the purpose of raising means longer to continue
"a spree" he was then indulging in.
For those men working in the bush, often alone for long periods, the prospect
of a spree was a sustaining thought. But
often the cycle of work and sprees would become their way of life.[6]
The bushman, shepherd, or stockman, has, in numberless
instances, to lead a life which renders him almost reckless of consequences to
himself, and too frequently does he console himself in his solitude with the
thought that he will soon reach the end of his term of service, and then be
free to enjoy a few days' "spree" at the nearest public-house, in
squandering the proceeds of his labour.
In the majority of such cases, we can well believe that
the men would be glad to have a chance of acting otherwise. The better nature
which will occasionally exercise its influence in the worst specimens of
humanity, recoils with horror from the wantonness in which they are apt to
indulge, and, if the chance did but offer for saving either for their own
benefit or that of others - some of their hard earnings, they would not need
much persuasion to avail themselves of the opportunity.
As a consequence of the sprees, the bushman did not succeed in saving
much money.[7]
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| Bush Hotel |
Persons belonging to the working class in the bush are
much better off than those who reside in the towns. They receive wages ranging
between the extremes of £30 and £100 per annum, with board and lodging, and
their necessary expenses need not exceed ten pounds a year. Taking the most
extravagant estimate of expenditure, there is no person employed in the bush
who could not lay by at least half of his income. But what is the fact?
The servants employed by the squatters, when their period of service is expired, whether three, or six, or twelve months, find themselves in possession of a considerable sum of money, and know of no other way to spend it, except in the public house. The bush publican keeps them in a state of intoxication for three or four days; makes a pretence of charging them nothing for board and lodging whilst they are "knocking down the cheque;" and if he is a liberal man gives them a bottle of rum when they are about to depart, after he has swindled them out of half their money.
The victim then returns to his comfortless life and
scanty fare as a shepherd or a bushman, with no other hope to relieve the dull
monotony of his existence than the prospect of having, in the course of a few
months more, another miserable "spree."
The ultimate spree ended in an all-in brawl as happened in Queen
Street, Brisbane in 1863.[8]
STREET DISTURBANCE. - Queen-street was, yesterday
afternoon, the scene of one of the most discreditable disturbances that has
been witnessed in the city for many a day. About three o'clock a well-known
public-house loafer named Roche interfered with a party of seamen who were
evidently bent on a "spree" together, and being in a quarrelsome
mood he was in consequence very roughly handled. The unfortunate fellow was
kicked and cuffed by ten or a dozen able bodied men, any one of whom was a
match for him, still he made a show to fight against tho lot.
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| Brisbane Bridge Hotel |
At this stage the police came up and interfered to quell
the row; but their interference was resisted. Constable Gallagher was seized by
one brawny fellow and held round the body and arms while three or four others
punched away at his head and with fiendish malignity tore out his beard and the
hair of his head by the roots. Sergeant Gorman soon measured his length on the
ground, and was brutally kicked while down.
A crowd speedily collected, and
Mr. Patrick Mayne[9]
and a Mr. Thomas came to the aid of the police, and succeeded in at least
beating off their assailants. The prime mover in the quarrel, Roche, was taken
into custody, and eventually locked up. By the time assistance arrived from the
Central Police Station the field was nearly clear of the rioters. However,
Sergeant Coffey marked down one man, and, giving chase, managed, after a smart
spurt, to secure him in Adelaide-street.
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| Queen Street, Brisbane |
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| Contemporary Image of the Ship Inn |
Sergeant Lang, later in the evening, apprehended another of the rioters at the Ship Inn, where he had been secreted under a bed. An incipient attempt at rescue was stopped by the appearance of a reinforcement of constables to back up the sergeant. Nothing has been heard of the others at a late hour last night. The two prisoners last named are known to have belonged to the notorious crew of the "Jessie Munn"[10].
