My grandmother's parents - Nils and his new bride, Margaret - travelled in an open wagon, drawn by two horses, to Bow Hill: a new settlement on the River Murray in the east of the South Australian colony.
The year was 1893, and Nils was then aged 30. He had been in Australia for a few years already, working on his future brother-in-law's farm in the mid north. During this time he had adjusted to the harsh conditions of his new homeland - so far from his previous life in Sweden: His calloused hands, his muscular frame, and his tanned skin told the tale of his experiences.
However, like most new settlers, he was not afraid of hard work. He reasoned that this was the price he must pay to establish a farm of his own, and build a life for himself and any family he might have one day.
Australia was, at that time, still a nation in its infancy. It was a collection of six colonies working, mostly, independently. The land and climate were different from anything previously known in Europe. That much had been determined. However, the exact nature of Australia - and the rules which must be followed to tame it - remained unknown. Difficult lessons would be learned. Failure was to be as common as success - although so much harder to bear.
The governments of each colony were still employing explorers, even as late as the 1890's, to map the country. They pushed constantly deeper into the heart of the ancient lands - over horizons which seemed never to end.
Surveyors were also employed by the governments to determine the suitability of the land for farming - and to mark it out into districts, acreage for farms, and establish the locations of towns.
Towns were generally set around 12 miles (20km) apart along the River Murray. The river stretched out to the east - to the colonies of New South Wales and Victoria. The towns were set this far apart because this was the distance that the drovers, or "overlanders," taking sheep and cattle along stock routes beside the river to the town of Adelaide, could travel in a single day. This way, each night they would have a place to camp, rest, and restore provisions as necessary.
The Government Gazettes of the day would regularly inform new settlers of the most recent lands surveyed - and 'selectors' (purchasers) were invited to apply in writing to the government if they wanted to purchase land. However, selectors needed to be 'eligible' to successful in their applications for acreage.
Eligibility was determined by a number of factors: The selector must possess at least 10% of the purchase price of the land - as a deposit; they must reside on the land once it was purchased; they must repay the loan within nine years; and, finally, they must make the necessary improvements, as determined by the government, over a predetermined period of time: build a homestead, clear the land, fence, dig a well, and build dams and farm buildings.
If these conditions were not met - the land would be forfeited and the selector must leave.
The land purchase conditions were harsh. And the demands made on settlers - who possessed only hand tools, and possibly a horse or two, or maybe a bullock - were enormous. However, the task set before the Europeans in building a nation from the barren ground up - was an enormous one as well. Everyone would need to work incredibly hard. The laws would need to enforce this.
Nils thought that he could manage the work required by the conditions of the land purchase. So, he applied for acreage in the newly surveyed district of Bow Hill, east of the town of Adelaide. His written application to the appropriate government department was approved, he paid his deposit, and he travelled to the site of his new land. His future waited for him there.
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The four decades preceding the 1890's had been extremely prosperous - following the beginning of the gold rush in 1851. This had culminated in a land boom during the 1880's. However, there had been some foreshadowing of problems which would follow:
The South Australian province had experienced numerous droughts since colonisation had occurred in 1836. And, it was following a particularly severe drought, in 1864-65, that the Surveyor-General, George Goyder, was summoned by the government to map a 'boundary' between land with enough rainfall to support cropping (cropping land), and more arid land only fit for grazing animals (pastoral land).
Goyder determined this line by observing the distinct change in vegetation: North of the line salt-bush predominated. Salt-bush is a blue grey shrub which pock marks the orange-brown earth of the barren plains. South of the line mallee scrub predominated. Mallee scrub is a low form of vegetation with scattered short eucalypts (rarely taller than six meters), straggly shrubs, and dry grey-yellow grass. Mallee scrub is land which is difficult to farm, and it is subject to regular droughts; although, during 'good' years, when decent rains come, wheat can be grown.
This line between these two regions became known as Goyder's Line of Rainfall - or simply Goyder's Line.
Sadly, for many new settlers, the good rains of the 1880's fooled many into disbelieving the prophecy of the line. The land north of the line appeared to be thriving and filled with life and promise - so the settlers pressured the government into surveying this land and selling it to them to farm.
The government relented, and the early years were prosperous - as the rains of the 1880's brought the arid landscape to life. However, inevitably, when the droughts returned in the 1890's - the farmers were ruined and had to leave.
The Australian continent had taught the early Europeans a lesson: Life in this colony would be a struggle. The land and the climate were harsh and unforgiving. This was not Europe. The rules of Europe would not all apply here. A new rule book must be created - largely the result of making mistakes and suffering the consequences.
The climate of South Australia would be a fickle ally to the farmers. The only promise it would give them was that more droughts would come. And the droughts would last for years at a time. During those times all the work in the world would never be enough to change the outcome of failed crops. In the equation of success - the rains would be the most important variable. And those rains were never going to be something the Europeans could control or tame.
Even today, in the north of South Australia, above Goyder's Line, many small stone cottages and ruins dot the countryside. And, as you walk out over the dusty plains, and as the winds dance across the barren landscape and rush to meet you - the sad voices of the settlers can almost be heard, and the misery and desperation of that time can almost be felt. Echoes of tragedy attached to the tombstones of the dwellings - abandoned and left to crumble back into the earth ... so long ago.
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The settlement of Bow Hill, in which Nils acquired land, is in the 'buffer zone' a relatively short distance below Goyders line. Further to the south, nearer to the southern coastline of South Australia, are better farming lands: There the soils are more fertile, the eucalypts are taller, and the rainfall is higher and more reliable.
But those lands, in the south of the province, had been snapped up before Nils was able to purchase. As the decades continued, after the land boom of the 1880's, the surveyors had to continue moving inland - where the land was semi-arid mallee scrub - and the rainfall was less reliable and more subject to droughts. Bow Hill was a district and a town thus created.
Even today - with modern machinery and farming techniques; over 100 years of farming experience in South Australian; and with larger land holdings, which are more viable - farming is still difficult and frustrating for farmers in this region. Many years follow one after the other - when spring rains don't eventuate - and crops fail. Life as a farmer in these regions is, even now, a stressful and hard experience.
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For Nils and Margaret, arriving on their newly acquired acreage - the land seemed to promise them a happy future. Many Europeans, at that time, held the belief that 'rains followed the plough'. In other words, even if a piece of land appeared arid, hostile and difficult - once cultivated - the rains would come - and the land would transform. It was as if people of this time, mostly church going and religious, thought that God would reward their hard work and bless their new settlements. This belief drove many to push into hostile and arid regions of the state.
So, in spite of the dreary mallee scrub, the rocky ground, the isolation, the stifling heat, and the fact that the river was a couple of miles to the north of the property - Nils and Margaret were excited. The reality of their lives together was unfolding. They had established the blueprint for their future together in the colony and now they would make it a reality: A two room stone-cottage would be built; a well would be dug; a barn and other farm dwellings would be established; the mallee scrub would be cleared - using axes and grubbers (hoe-like instruments good for removing the mallee tree stumps) … and they would start a family.
The young couple, on arriving, unloaded their scant possessions from the wagon and set up camp. They would live in a tent until the cottage was built. An open fire would be their means of cooking - until a new wood-burning, cast-iron stove could be purchased to grace the future kitchen. The larger eucalypts would be left insitu, near to the house, to afford some shade and to anchor the reins of the horses. Margaret would plant the cuttings and seeds - which she'd brought from her brother's property - to grow a garden. Mostly the garden would be created to provide food for the family. The back yard would be filled with fruit trees, nut trees (such as almonds), and vegetables. A few flowers, however, would be planted in the front yard purely for pleasure: Roses, geraniums, wisteria maybe. Everything would need to be hand watered - so fancy impractical flowers would need to be kept to a minimum. And, finally, all of this would be neatly wrapped up with a ribbon of fencing built from wire and wood palings.
The plans were all laid out in their heads. And, it was with these thoughts that Nils and Margaret fell asleep exhausted on that first night - under the canvas of their tent and a billion flickering stars.
Their plans started to take shape soon after this: In 1894 their first child, Hanna (named after Nils mother) was born. And two years after that, in 1896, the twins came along: Walter and Hilda (my grandmother). And with that - the family was complete.
The 1890's were busy years: Nils worked hard to build up the farm and work the land. He laboured often 14 hours in each day - but still the work was never finished.
He would start work as the sun crept up over the horizon in the east: The sky would light up like a bushfire - spreading out from the dark low hills across the distant plain. The bush would come to life, as the sunlight gradually filled the day with colour. The birds of the bush would lead the chorus of sounds with their deafening morning song.
The days would pass with hour upon hour of back breaking work: digging out mallee stumps, hoeing the ground, building the wire fences and the farm buildings, carting water, and a million other jobs. Until finally, as the sun sank again below the far horizon in the west - and as the animals fell silent once more - the world would fall back to sleep, and the chill night air would creep onto the land. And Nils would then drag himself back indoors to slump by the fire and silently eat his meal. Exhausted.
Sometimes, he would sit next to the kerosine lantern, at the wooden table in the kitchen, and he would find some pleasure in reading the few journals he managed to order from Sweden. They were his joy and his reward - in lieu of any other hobbies or habits. Other settlers would, more commonly, spend their 'pocket money' on alcohol, cigarettes, and sometimes betting at the country horse-races.
But, for Nils happiness was losing himself in the pages of his books and journals.
As he read … and reread … the worn and crumbling pages - he probably wondered what his life would have been like had he made different choices earlier on. Choices which might have allowed him to use his talent and follow his passion: Academia. In particular - mathematics.
Nils was probably more suited to a white-collar job - such accounting. If he had realised this earlier - if he had known what his life would be like on the farm - he might have carved out a different life for himself. He might have had a life where he found more joy and respect - especially from his wife.
As it was - no matter how hard he worked on the farm - success eluded him. It evaded him like a receding shadow … which he could never grasp. No matter how hard he planned and worked.
One reason that Nils would have been loath to assert himself more - to try to gain employment in a white collar job - was that his English was not particularly good. And, in a country where almost all European settlers were British, at that time, and very few were Swedish - this would have sapped his already limited social confidence.
Another option - of returning to Sweden - did not appeal to him either. Nils was a proud man - and he did not want to admit defeat to his family or his neighbours back home. He had left his homeland on his adventure to the other side of the world seeking success and freedom. He would not return defeated.
In 1895, two years after Nils and Margaret settled on their land, the rains stopped. A severe and prolonged drought swept across the Australian continent - crippling the entire country for the following seven years - until 1902. Sheep numbers, in this time, fell by almost 50%.
The Europeans were learning a difficult lesson: The rains would not follow the plough. God would not simply reward their hard work. In fact, during droughts in Australia, hard work was no longer a part of any equation to success. Prayers would not bring the rains either. This is the nature of the Australian climate.
Furthermore, from 1891 the Australian economy experienced a major economic depression: The 'Great Crash.' The boom times of the previous 40 years had finally come to an end. Many businesses were ruined and high unemployment followed. Employers responded by lowering wages. The 1890's was a hard decade for most people in Australia.
Yet, it was also because of the difficulties of this decade that a major positive event happened in Australia: Late in the 1890's - after much suffering on the farms and in the cities - the six colonies decided to hold a referendum to make the decision about whether they should unite as a single nation with a central federal government.
In this way they could centralise the management of the economy, the currency, the defence force, and the laws. This would strengthen the country and help it to be more resilient in the face of future adversity. A series of referendums were held between 1898 − 1899 and finally, in 1899, the colonies agreed to unite.
On January 1st 1901, the Commonwealth of Australia was born.
This was reported as follows in the 1899 Brisbane Courier:
Australia is born: The Australian nation is a fact. Now is accomplished the dream of a continent for a people, and a people for a continent. No longer shall there exist those artificial barriers which have divided brother from brother. We are one people - with one destiny.
It's interesting that some of the best changes for the nation were brought about as a result of crises: Goyder's Line - discovered and mapped out after the severe drought of 1865; and the formation of the commonwealth of Australia - following a severe and prolonged drought and an economic depression.
I have found, in my own life, that that is often the case as well: Crises in my life have forced me to change what I do, how I live, and how I think - usually in very positive ways. Although, it has usually been only in hindsight that I could appreciate this.
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I will continue with the story of my grandmother's childhood in Bow Hill in the next blog: For the most part, Hilda's childhood on the farm was quite enjoyable. Stormy times and disappointments would follow later in her life. But, her childhood would remain a source of happy memories from which she could draw strength and hope later on.
More of that next week.
But, for now, here is the next excerpt from her journal (1948 − 1963) written to my mother, Anne:
HILDA'S JOURNAL
Tuesday February 22cnd 1949
Hello darling, This is morning fairly early, but I want a word or two with you before I start working. I have just had my second cup of tea and am ready for the day's work. I looked out on our friendly little back garden: the red hot pokers (especially friends of yours darling) and the lavender bushes are becoming quite old friends now, and I felt like "talking" to you in this way.
It is very quiet and peaceful here now. The only sound I can hear is the crowing of the roosters. I hope you are happy in school. I think of you often and I wonder what you are doing. Sports day today. You took your racket, and for eurhythmics the khaki shorts which you look quite nice in.
It is more like winter than summer. Millican's garden across the street looks very pretty with roses and fuscias. (Now to the wash tub).
Good bye darling xxxxx
Tuesday March 1st 1949
The weather's warming up now. I expect March will warm us up a bit before summer departs. Thank goodness!
Next month is April and I can't even remember us having us having hot weather after the second week in April. We may have trying weather, though, for the next six weeks.
Killed a red backed spider on the verandah one day last week. It was making a web between the chair and window sill. Thank goodness it didn't bite me those hot nights when I used to get out of bed and sit on one of the chairs out there to cool off.
I met you in John Martins (department store) after school yesterday. Poor love, you were kept if for dictation and after returning for the third time to look for you in the lounge, I found you there all anxious and hot. After a milk shake (pineapple) and a choc ice you cheered up considerably. I bought you a pretty house gown all gay with flowers, and your first two pairs of school stockings.
You called in to see Dorothy in her poky little room to ask how she got on at her exam. She thinks she might have passed. Do you remember the stuffing and chook sandwiches dear?
Mrs Laurie showed me her black jacket suite and a floral dress she made. The jacket suite looks very nice but I am afraid she will not look too good in the floral. It is purply and she will look very dark in that colour. She is talking of getting a washing machine. They cost from 40 pounds to 70 pounds.
Joan Collins was here Sunday. She was reading most of the time. No trouble to entertain Joan. She is a nice little girl.
You went over to Shirley's to see Christopher Ray with Patty a few days ago. I heard he was an ugly baby but he must be a very ugly baby when a baby worshiper like you could come back and tell me that he was indeed an ugly baby. I expect in a few months or less C. Ray might be quite a nice looking baby.
Young Mrs Lauries burnt a lot of clothes last night. Old Mrs F. was annoyed because they could have been mended and given away. I wonder if young Mrs Lauries got rid of thirty pairs of socks that needed mending.
Goodbye darling xxxx
Wednesday March 16th 1949
We have had some warm weather - too warm. Today is a lovely day. You went to school in your summer dress uniform with your tennis racket in it's red cover and a new pair of sandshoes in your case. Do you remember they lost your sandshoes at the rubber shop where I left them to be mended and so they gave me a new pair for the cost of mending a pair.
You seem tired lately. I am tired too. At the end of summer one is tired, I think. The weather has been so changeable too.
We gathered the almonds since I wrote last. Mr and Mrs Laurie came in and helped us gather up the "harvest". It looked like rain.
I have been with you to see Christopher Ray and met young Mrs L, the mother, for the first time. She is quite a nice little woman and is managing her baby in a capable way as most of the modern young mothers are doing. I admire them. They are more broadminded and ready to learn than young mothers were a generation ago.
Last week I went to Mrs Powell. I was pleased to see her again. She was ironing as she often is when I visit her and scorching the things brown quite cheerfully as usual.
Elizabeth is a dear now. She kept smiling at me. Mrs Powell gave me some quinces and passion fruit.
xxx cherio!
Thursday March 17th 1949
A lovely day today. Quite cool. It will be Easter on the 15th April (Good Friday). You bought a chocolate Easter egg, six puff balls, and two lovely hot cross buns yesterday. Of the lot there is still a piece of chocolate Easter egg left (in your school case). I have a nice present put away for you and I will buy another Easter egg. (lolly this time).
Now I am going to have some breakfast and get to the washing xxx
Later -
The washing is half done. A rest and a cup of tea will go well. I find the washing an effort to do nowadays. I would like to have all the latest conveniences.
I want to have the washing done and the house tidy before you come home. Then a talk with you before getting the tea ready. Tea over then a rest in the lounge chair, read awhile in between talking to you or rather you talking to me in between doing your homework. Then cut lunch, put out milk bottles and money and ice money, make lemon drink "and so to bed".
Sometimes when I sit down to write sometimes there seems nothing to write about but I always get going on something. I love you funny little old teenager. xxx
Tuesday 22cnd 1949
There is time for me to write a page or so before you come home from school.
I met you after school yesterday and we had a choc ice and a look around the shops. I bought a black hat with pretty veiling. I will fix it myself.
Dreadful thing happened when I was out yesterday. A young woman jumped from the tenth story of the C M L building and was killed instantly. I must have been quite near there at the time but didn't see it actually happen. The paper says she had a nervous breakdown three months ago. Poor woman. (she was twenty seven). I wonder what troubles led up to such a dreadful thing.
Our perennial aster bushes are in bloom now, lavender and white, so pretty. I have a big jar of it on the mantle piece and it mixes with a bowl of (illegible) on the table in front of me. Thank God for flowers.
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That will be all for this week.
I'll write a little about the early 1900's on Bow Hill farm and schooling for Hilda in the next blog.
