Desert Wealth

By H. B. Waldegrave

This is a story that tells of the onset of this soon-to-become discovery and development of Mount Isa. It's just the simple truth or as near as possible to the truth after the passage of so many years. The memory of people is very short, and not much was recorded in the early days when this story started,

• Language: English
• Publisher: Priors Press
• Release date: Jan 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9781962502092

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The Desert Wealth

Copyright © 2024 H. B. Waldegrave.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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ISBN 978-1-962502-08-5 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-962502-09-2 (Ebook)

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

Introduction

Acknowledgements

Kennedy’s Overture

Cattle Drive

Slow Years

The Mica Diggers

Miles Quest

Discovery

Scramble

Progress Begins

Turmoil & Town Topics

More Topics & Industrialisation

Technicalities

Diversion

Cosmopolite

Education & Culture

Absence of Crime

Transportation

Invasion

Uranium Fever

Civic Improvements &Expansion.

Uncle Charlie & J.K.

There is no end.

About the Author

Introduction

This, like any other prelude, is intended to draw the reader’s attention to certain points, and to disarm, if possible, any criticism of a subject that is not meant to offend.In this case the reasons behind the inspiration of this story.A story that has no claim to literary fame, just the simple truth, or as near as possible to the truth, after the passage of so many years, the memory of people is very short, and not much was recorded in the days where this story started, the discovery and development of Mt Isa. Which is not much different from any other mining town, it has experienced the same growing pains, pathos and laughter, tragedy and success, the sordid side of life had infiltrated into its early civic framework, but courage and endeavour gradually straightened out the k inks.

The life of the mine itself, experts predicted, was anywhere up to 100 years, some even claimed that the early workings had barely scratched the surface! The foundations – both civic and industrial – were based along these lines. I spent several years with the people of Mt Isa, worked with them, was invited into their homes, accepted as one of them, at least that’s what it felt like. They told me their stories, freely and with a feeling of genuine pride, it was their town, they’d helped to build it. A thriving western town, the start of what you see today.

Mankind has been in persistent search of untold wealth and happiness since the beginning of time, which has also had a romantic cloak of adventure attached to it, but only on the shoulders of those who dared to take on the challenges of this pursuit. But in all mankind’s struggles there’s none with so much romance, or exhibitionism on the part of capricious fortunes, as there is in seeking hidden wealth within the earth, the progress of the breathtaking wealth of its vast supply of ores. Silver, Lead, Copper, Zinc and Uranium, another great saga behind Mt Isa itself.

The march of progress has since overtaken the pace of mining, but when Mt Isa was in its infancy, mining was the benchmark, which everything else had to keep up to, often at a pace that a lot of other industries, such as transport had to keep attaining. The most romantic figure to enter the pages of mining history was the grizzled old prospector, for his optimism, heart-breaking toil for small reward, dogged searching and cunningness to conceal his find are still by-laws in mining today. From desert regions, snow capped mountains and the depths of the oceans, his bones are milestones along the way, that endless, uncertain road beset by vagaries of chance, the sky, forever his roof, in the vast solitudes of natural surroundings he loved so well.

However, picturesque tradition was all the old prospector established, he was the trailblazer for progress, how else could a town like Mt Isa come into fruition. Behind him would come the shanty town, with it’s pubs, gambling dens and brothels, and any other ways of making money out of men unfortunate enough to succumb to loneliness due to the isolation. This uncertain free and easy life would last until law and order came, then scientific methods employed by large organisations brought order out of chaos, such is the history from Alexander Kennedy, Condamine Davidson, Ted Gairns, Len Winters and John Campbell Miles to the present day, industrial empire (in the late 1950’s) which is Mt Isa Mines Limited.

K.J. Waldegrave for H.B. Waldegrave

Acknowledgements

In conclusion I wish to thank the following people, without whose help this story could not have been written. The late Edward Gairns, Richard Prideaux, William Ely and Mrs Jane Black of Charters Towers, also John, Robert and William Kennedy, Arthur Campbell, Leonard Winters, George Isaacson, Ernest Maggs, Horace Brown, Condamine Davidson, Charles Leonard, Jack O’Keefe, Clarence Smith, Jock Gatherer, James Boyd, William Aplin, George Kerpela, George Milthorpe, Quentin Richardson and Mesdames P. Glendenning, J. Olsen, V. Holley, Spot Anderson, L. Little and H. Ri chie.

There were the big organisations concerned, whom willingly came forward with information, Mt. Isa Mines Limited, Queensland Rail, Qantas Airways, T.A.C. Airways, the Mining Department, the Churches, the Schools and the Board of Trustees for Mt Isa Mines Sporting facilities. In a minor way there are many, many more – too numerous to mention, but to whom I am indeed grateful.

H.B. Waldegrave

Chapter I

Kennedy’s Overture

Obtaining the true perspective of the story behind Mt Isa, we have to go back in time, to catch a glimpse of its beginnings, the clock turned back to when Queensland, had just gained statehood, our clouded minds groping through years of forgotten occurrences, filled with exciting accomplishment, of people who had achieved great deeds in their day, these were some of Australia’s outback Pioneers. Australia, owes more than can ever be repaid, to the fortitude and sacrifices of the early settlers of this country, they opened up the vast areas of wilderness, and in doing so, and made the land what it is t oday.

A land still fraught with the possibilities of inestimable achievements, if not for the quiet, dogged determination and strength of character of the men and women of early Australia, there would be no tradition. Such a pioneer was Alexander Kennedy, a rugged Scot, and the man who opened up and developed the countryside of this story. Scotsmen have always been at the forefront of exploration the world over, their shrewd honesty and sturdy nature, disciplined by centuries of ancestry in the rugged highlands, made them suited to the life of the explorers.

And Kennedy came from such stock, and with his adventurous nature, chose the almost unknown State of Queensland as the place to make his fortune. He arrived in Rockhampton, from the old country, on board the sailing vessel Perseus in 1861, year of the great land rush, just a short time after Queensland had established itself, and people were moving north and west.

The Burke and Wills expedition had passed through the unknown centre of Australia, leaving great potentialities in its ill-fated wake, the conditions there, were at the time ideally suited for a young man with an adventurous spirit. There were no railways, the telegraph was as yet unheard of, and the only formed road, in the state, ran from Brisbane to Ipswich, Rockhampton was a town, more in name than fact, some scattered houses and tracks which bullock wagoners plied their trade, the courage and resignation of shown by intrepid explorers like Burke & Wills, and King, were inspiration enough to spur the young men of this era on, to achieve greater things, and Kennedy was one of them.

There were great changes in the state of Queensland in the next ten years, and also in the life of Alexander Kennedy, his first job was on a comparatively new holding called Rio Station, on the banks of the Dawson River, owned by a man going by the name of Peter McIntosh. But after a short time moved further west together, their goal the Comet River, where they started Weelwandangie Station, in the later Springsure District, all this time Kennedy had been moving further west. And with a northerly bearing, fate was edging him slowly towards the basis of his great achievement, but for the present, it was only showing him the outback.

By experience only time can achieve, he was learning the desperate measures needed to survive the pioneer’s way of life, the frontiers of the British empire had always been man’s proving ground. Hard times and adverse conditions were always a test on the character of a person. During the years of 1869-1871, recession hit the north; many newly formed holdings were severely undermined by this sudden drop in the markets. And many were forced to quit as they were unable to cope financially, and all they had worked for was in vain, but the true pioneer would never give up, Weelwandangie went like most of the rest, leaving Kennedy only with his experiences to show for it.

He returned to Rockhampton with the idea of getting somewhere of his own, realising owning a property was the only way of succeeding, and while he was investigating the possibility of growing sugar, romance entered into the equation, he met a Scottish lass by the name of Marion Murray. She’d come north from Victoria with her parents, who had also been seeking land, and settled at Pandora, not far from Rockhampton. August in the year 1871, Marion Murray and Alexander Kennedy were married, thus creating an everlasting relationship, enduring the good years and the bad, to fame and fortune, moulding part of Australia’s outback traditions, and by 1872, conditions were on the rise.

The Kennedy’s tried farming in a small way to no avail, as they had bought 1400 acres, which later was known as Alton Downs, with the intension of growing sugar, but lost it all, and the aftermath of red tape which usually follows financial crashes came and went, it was Kennedy’s destiny to go west for success. It was Peter McIntosh, his old employer who unwittingly came to the rescue, he needed a manager on a new holding on the Barcoo River, where they remained until McIntosh died in 1876, and they were on their own again. Mrs Kennedy was instrumental in keeping up his flagging spirits, after another failed enterprise left his enthusiasm and confidence, badly scathed, when they bought Emmett Downs.

Lucky to get out of it without too much trouble, she was certain given a little luck, he could make a go of it, land was cheap out west, perhaps it was worth trying, anyway. With what little money Kennedy had at his disposal he purchased cattle, intending settling down well into the interior, he explored areas surrounding the river country where Burke, Wills, McKinlay and Georgina rivers poured their valuable waters wastefully into Australia’s arid centre. He chose holdings later known as Buckingham Downs and Noranside, situated about thirty miles north of the Burke and Wills Rivers junction, on Sulieman Creek.

A tributary of the Wills, he set up camp there, a giant stride towards the formation of the township of Mt Isa, yet to be thought of. Kennedy’s partner in this venture was Robert Currie, who had married Mrs Kennedy’s only sister, they had gone out previously to start the new home, and had returned when things were prepared, and now the long trek west started. The progress of colonisation was slow moving so the railroad only went to Duringa, and then to Blackall by coach, the last frontier base, Longreach hadn’t even come into the picture as yet and Winton was only one house. When the women arrived at Blackall, Robert Currie was waiting for them with a wagonette; the journey to Sulieman Creek took six agonising weeks.

The party camping when and where they could, arriving in November of that year, and the reunion was overwhelming, their new life was just beginning, with it the onset of the summer heat. At first, they lived in tents happy with the novelty of the fact, that they were all together again, the women did all the cooking in camp ovens, baking bread, meat, cakes and pies almost as well as they did at home, all boiling was done in galvanised buckets or billies. They were assisted by the wives of the aborigines, who came out from the coast with them, helping to drive the stock, and the carefree outdoor life, which was good for the children, they now had.

Although it was hard work, they were pleased with their efforts in those early months, alongside the tents were rudely constructed bough sheds thatched with Spinifex. A far cry from what they had been used to, walking on bare earth to cross a room, water taken from a well some distance from camp. No floor boards or taps for water which was more precious than gold out there, the thin canvas walls could not stand up to the onslaughts of nature, and it began to take their toll on the pioneers, first the heat and flies, then the rain, and later the dust and cold. Besides these adversities there was always the risk of attack by hostile aboriginies, danger lurked ever near with the close of every anxious day.

The boys from the coast were as vigilant as owls, for they were mortally afraid of the inland Aborigines, who belonged to the wild Kalkadoon and Wagabonga tribes. And just as well, as tragedy struck when the Kennedy’s themselves were threatened not far from camp. Not far away, up Sulieman Creek, twelve miles to be exact, sat the holding owned by a man called Beckett, with a Russian called Molvo in charge, who had three men with him to take care of the stock. Local aborigines had been lurking around their waterhole for days, but they hadn’t taken much notice of them, till one of them accidentally speared a calf while hunting and several members of the tribe, tasted veal for the first time.

It was so good, they cast covetous eyes over the rest of the herd, why should they search for food when it’s so handy, what could three white men do against a whole tribe. Tribal leaders discussed the possibilities of an easy living, for the hunters, due to the number of cattle camps set up along the creek, and growing fat, as there was plenty of food for many moons to come, and they soon had a treacherous plan set in motion. Rushing the first camp during the early part of the evening Molvo and his helpers were murdered, then tossing their bodies into the waterhole before they absconded with the cattle, feasting until the last beast had been killed and eaten.It was so successful, that after a short while, the leaders discussed the attack on the next camp, which was the Kennedy’s.

Which may have eventuated, except for the fact that the ever-watchful coastal aborigines, one of which was employed by Robert Currie, had witnessed the massacre, and he reported it to Luke Russell, the foreman, thus averting a second tragedy, then Luke immediately contacted Fred Margetts, who was managing Buckingham Downs, while Kennedy was in Normanton, and decided to take the women and children to Buckingham Downs. Meanwhile Russell, Currie and the hired help, stayed behind, put the cattle in a safe place, and then set up an ambush to scare the natives.

The hostile aborigines attacked the camp and were met with, instead of a quiet camp, a terrific fusillade that frightened the hell out of them, and they never returned to that area for many years to come, and the people on Buckingham Downs waited in a state of great anxiety for word on Kennedy, fearing aborigines had murdered him. But he’d heard nothing of the tragedies until reaching home several days later. And after the story was told, he sent word east, and a police patrol came out, with Sub-Inspector Eglington in control, for the protection of the settlers, and meted out such drastic punishment if the natives played up, that they soon became quite tame.

Late in 1877, the Kennedy’s sold Sulieman Creek, and went to live at Noranside, where the buildings were more habitable, and the womenfolk looked forward to a more comfortable future, although fortune had relented a little, and not so rosy. They still had many problems to face, as the recurrences of drought made condition deplorable, and the danger of dying of thirst. One year the river ran dry, and the waterhole gave out earlier than usual, while the men were away for several weeks mustering, the women and children were in dire straits, fortunately for them Kennedy got concerned and went home to check.

After assessing the situation, he decided to move them twelve miles away to another waterhole, where there was a hut large enough to house the families till the drought broke. Finding the horses in such exhausted condition, hopeful they would make it to the waterhole, made the loads as light as possible, and everyone walking, those that could, they made it, travelling in the cool of the evenings, to enable the drought-stricken animals to gather their strength to carry on. Both Mrs Kennedy and Currie carried a child on their backs to lighten the load, the party arrived very late at night, tired and thirsty, and it was eight months before they could return to the comforts of Noranside.

The passage of time went by almost unnoticed, with the business of household duties, making clothes, teaching the children their school lessons and the storing of foods, there wasn’t any time to be idle, or to miss the social life of the city. By this time however, Cloncurry, only 100 miles away, and so much nearer than Normanton up in the Gulf of Carpentaria, was a thriving community, and a boon to the outback settlers. The mineral belt surrounding Cloncurry was attracting many who would never have come west if not lured by the chance of quick riches, and the town was growing fast, but would be many years before it became the central area of a huge mining project.

The railway had only come to Richmond, on its way inland from Townsville, still too far for heavy haulage, it wasn’t until 1908 that the west really opened up, when the railway reached Cloncurry, and it became one of Queensland’s most important outposts. It was a great event in the lonely lives of the Kennedy womenfolk; on the numerous occasions they travelled to Cloncurry, making new acquaintances or swapping experiences and outback gossip. The greatest tragedy for Mrs. Kennedy arose on one of these Cloncurry trips during the wet season, when storms of great intensity can strand the lonely traveller in the most outlandish of places.

Which was the case with the Kennedy’s and Currie’s, being caught unawares by an unusually bad storm, forcing them to remain in tents for weeks, until the rivers and creeks subsided enough to continue their journey. Both the younger Currie boys first, then later Mrs. Currie became ill during this time, Mrs. Currie dying soon after, joined a short time later by the two boys, in their last long sleep, words are inadequate at times of great loss like this, far beyond the reach of medical aid. And the forces of nature, which at times can be spectacular, coming against them, it’s hard to imagine the drastic plight of these unfortunate souls, with nowhere to turn for help.

Alexander Kennedy read the burial service, and Robert Currie built a fence around the graves of his loved ones, the noble woman, who had uncomplainingly accepted the wilderness as her home, was at last given up to it’s loneliness; she sleeps forever, with her two little sons, under God’s mighty heavens, gallant pioneers all, they are just a few of the truly great people whom few know about, whose stout hearts helped to build the Australia of today. Mrs. Kennedy felt, as the sisters were inseparable companions, this great loss for years to come, and the Kennedy’s took the remaining Currie children, as their own, and not long after this, when he had grieved enough, Currie left the west, to the Kennedy’s, and the inhospitable weather conditions.

The township of Boulia had formed, where one intrepid pioneer traded from a covered wagon and a tent, which also made it a closer link to civilisation for the Kennedy’s, although it couldn’t take the sting from their recent great loss. A great emptiness hung over Noranside, without the companionship of the Currie’s, a change was necessary. With the eventual sale of Buckingham Downs and Noranside, they moved on, Mrs. Kennedy to Normanton as she had no desire to continue the hard life of the pioneer, and the children needed to go to school, while her husband continued with taming the outback.

Kennedy teamed up with James White-Powell, searching around the source of the Leichhardt River, and further north for likely places to settle, they wandered throughout the wild country of the Selwyn Ranges for many weeks, locating and marking all the waterholes and soaks the found, mostly along the Leichhardt River, itself, some are still used to this day, places like Brown’s Creek, Breakaway Creek, Spring Creek, Paroo and South Paroo and the Nineteen Mile, with may more which have since silted up. Eventually in the northern foothills of the Selwyn Ranges, a suitable area of land caught their eye.

It was an agglomeration of hills, heaped one upon the other in the most abandoned fashion, which reminded Kennedy of his birthplace, in faraway Scotland, so he called it Calton Hills Station. It had plenty of water at handy intervals too, some of which bore the aborigine’s permanent water sign, the