CALEB BURCHETT BECAME A REAL MOUNTAIN MAN

Caleb Burchett became a real “mountain man”. When he came to Poowong in 1876 he was merely a former carpenter wanting to become a farmer and to own a small piece of Australia.

Fortunately for us, Caleb wrote his memoirs and they give an excellent picture of the incredible hardship settlers faced in the hills of South Gippsland as the land was thrown open.

Caleb Burchett was born at Hounslow, in England. We know little about his parents but we can assume they were of some substance because they insisted on young Caleb getting a good education. He came to Australia with his father.

There is no mention of his mother. The two men worked as carpenters for some time and then Caleb entered the Education Department.

Teaching was not to his liking, though, and 1874 saw him become the auditor of the township of Brunswick.

The new land being opened up in Gippsland seemed to him to offer an escape from the humdrum life of ‘the big smoke’. A party of settlers going to Brandy Creek persuaded him to look for land in that area, but a family friend who’d already toured Victoria looking for farmland assured him that the hills of Poowong were a much better bet. At this time, of course, there was not yet a Poowong. The postal address was “McDonald’s Track”.

The family friend was Henry Littledyke and he promised to help Caleb find a good farm. John Medley, from Brunswick, was also going up the Track and Burchett decided to travel with him.

Burchett left his home in Drummond Street, Carlton, on February 24, 1876, to walk to the Albion Hotel in Bourke Street. This hotel was kept by Mr Cleeland, of Phillip Island fame, and was a terminus for the Cobb and Co. coaches into Gippsland. A six-horse team took him out to Dandenong at a spanking pace.

There the men took a two-horse wagonette to the Mornington Hotel at Cranbourne, owned by Mrs Harris at the time. From the hotel they proceeded on foot.

“The day was now very hot and filled with smoke and dust”. They reached the Yallock Creek and then Jimmy Baker’s hut, where Lang Lang is today. The hut was at the start of McDonald’s Track and Jimmy made a little money by guiding settlers up the Track. His wife, Dorcas, provided good meals and accommodation, no matter how many travellers there were.

“A few minutes after arrival we were enjoying a hearty meal. We were not long in turning in, ... but alas! not to rest. T

hose acquainted with Gippsland in the early days know of the sleepless nights...How, by the loss of so much blood, we managed to live and work as we did was always a mystery to me... mosquitoes...fleas.”

On February 26 he selected the abandoned selection of another settler, Crown Allotment 7. After pegging it out he learned that yet another selector was after the same block. Fortunately, the other man, on learning that Burchett had a family, withdrew.

Burchett then walked back to Mrs Harris’ hotel in Cranbourne, covering the 21 miles in time for breakfast. By 9am he was in a coach to Melbourne. His application was approved and the Lands Board gave him a licence to occupy the block.

Twelve months later he was ready to return to Poowong to begin the exhausting task of clearing his farm, by burning and ‘picking up’. He hired Danial Beckett and his dray. Tools, furniture, galvanised iron and supplies were loaded onto the dray and even Beckett’s powerful horses took two nights and three days to cover the distance.

A house was built, near the corner of what was to be the recreation ground, and the trees around the house were cleared.

These were real forest giants, reportedly up to 400 feet high. For a time there was a grave risk of them falling onto the house.

While the house was being built Burchett walked to Melbourne each weekend to see his family. Once it was finished, and the precious seed was in the ground, he went to get them. On November 21, 1877 he left Melbourne for the farm, bringing his family up to their new home.

I have often before in this column talked of the difficulty of clearing the land and the long wait for a return on the selector’s investments of money, time and labour. I won’t go into that again here.

In 1884 the Drouin Express reported that Burchett had 160 acres cleared. On these he was running sheep, cattle and pigs. There was, interestingly enough, no dairy herd. Burchett’s success with the farm carried over into his private and public lives - for a time.

He was soon a community leader, and stood in as a preacher until there was a clergyman in the district. He set up a business in Melbourne, where he became a Justice of the Peace. In 1885 he moved to Melbourne to live, but he kept the Poowong farm.

The land-boom crash of the early 1890s had Burchett as one of its first victims. He was financially ruined, though he mortgaged his farm very heavily to help meet his debts.

He returned to Poowong to try to rebuild his fortunes. On February 28, 1889 he tried to sell the farm but could not attract a buyer. Eventually he sold it to his family for the cost of the mortgage.

Burchett died on March 19, 1934, having battled economic disaster and the hardships of setting up a hill-country farm. He fought with courage and determination, but in the final analysis, a South Gippsland selector needed luck as well, and Burchett ran out of that. I can’t help feeling that he deserved a little better.

Garfield level railway crossing

Last week’s Gippsland History on the Garfield level crossing drew a great deal of interest and much reminiscing.

Long time Garfield resident Graham Weatherhead can recall driving up the steep section to the crossing to do a handbrake start when he was getting his licence on October 8, 1959.

He managed the handbrake start and the policeman told him to pay his five bob and he would receive his licence, which he dutifully did.

He recalls the crossing opposite Thirteen Mile Rd.

Whereas, Ray “Bushy” Miller (who is quoted in John Wells’ story) said there were two level crossings. He said the first was opposite the Garfield Theatre, while the second was about 200 metres west of Thirteen Mile Rd.

Former Garfield resident Ken Milson recalls the crossing when it was open, although he was just nine years old.

He also recalls the second crossing. “With the closure of these two crossings and the building of the road bridge at the eastern end of town no traffic crossed the line at ground level - road safety ahead of its time,” he said.