History Notes - Tamworth to Bingara in 1873

HISTORY NOTES

The perils of travelling from Tamworth to Bingara in 1873

Recently we introduced you in the “History Notes” to one man’s journey from Tamworth to Bingara in 1873 as recorded in the ‘Australian Town & Country Journal’ Saturday 15 February 1873. It took a bit longer (about twenty-four hours longer), and the roads weren’t quite as good - 

…..Shortly after leaving Attunga, my attention was called by the Jehu to the shameful and dangerous state of the roads. We were crossing Mr. S. Burdekin's run then, where there is a gully which, on our approach to it, seemed as though nothing short of being bogged could possibly be the result. We entered it by a decline on the bank side, which from its precipitous nature, made me close my eyes. We gained the centre, when I ventured to take a look at our position; there we were to all intents and purposes as though cemented to the bed of the gully in a thick mass of mud; the horses strove and strove again to extricate themselves, when with a strong pull and a pull altogether, aided by the whip the poor animals got us through the mire, and with much difficulty drew us up the opposite bank…..

…..Dinner over, the opposition coach arrived, and we again proceeded on our journey, eventually reaching Cobbedah; crossing the Sheep Station creek, where only a few days since, in consequence of the sudden rise of the water, the mail coach was lost. It appears Mr. Chaffey, the proprietor, was driving at the time from Tamworth, and on arriving at the creek side, he plunged the animals into the water; they safely reached the opposite bank, when they jibbed at having to rise the hill; the driver therefore backed them into the middle of the creek with a view to obtain a fresh start, but no, the horses would not move either one way or the other, but remained stationary. The coachman finding his position, thought of the mails and his one passenger, Senior-constable Drew, who was proceeding to Bingera, the waters at the same time was rising very rapidly rendering their situation a perilous one; the two however united their efforts, and at about 2.30 in the morning, in torrents of rain, they managed by swimming and wading to get the mail bags safe to land, then released the horses, leaving the vehicle to  its fate, which was afterwards found in portions, some two miles, and others five miles distant from the scene of the accident. Mr. Chaffey's loss amounted to some 60 pounds: The mails were taken on by Mr. Gill's coach, and the unfortunates took shelter at Bridger's Hotel where everything was done to relieve them from the sousing they had received. He managed however to save the horses and got them safely to the hotel.

……This recommencement of our journey was not so fruitful of success as previously, for the leading horse became fractious, and did not seem to like facing the darkness of the ravines we had to traverse, and the driver seemed somewhat to regret having started so soon. Dark indeed it was, enough to try the nerve of the boldest, and no lamps to aid us, and our situation was rendered more disagreeable by the determined attacks of mammoth mosquitoes, who penetrated their poisonous proboscis through your trousers, and even your boots. I found next day my legs and knees bore the appearance of a plum pudding from the attacks of these horrid flies…..

…… This excursion at night in the wilds of Australia being my first I most candidly acknowledge I did not relish it, particularly at this point when the driver said " Look out, here we are at the Devil's Pinch." You may rest assured I attended to his instructions, and as I endeavoured to peer into the black appearance of things ahead, the moon having receded behind the mountains, I thought if not of "Home, sweet home," of a couple of blankets, and a quiet camp till Aurora thought fit to put in her appearance. Hi, hi, wo, wo, gee, gee, and a lot of other language understandable only by men of the horsey fraternity. Were all the sounds that saluted my ear, save the cry of the wild night birds, which echoed from mountain to mountain, when Lo! and behold something apparently was wrong, when to my horror I discovered that the leader had unhooked herself and the wheel horses were endeavouring to stop the coach. They did so, when it resolved itself into this, that the leader must be led, so I volunteered, 'and took it' in hand, but the descent proved too much for my ability. l could not keep pace with the four-footed beast, so shouted out "Here she goes,” and away the grey leader scampered, I unfortunately getting my foot under the fore wheel, which I found next day had left its autograph painful enough to look at and bear. To the bottom of the pinch we got, more I think by good luck than anything else, for it was proof evident that the man in possession hardly had confidence in his proceedings, still it was a relief to reach even that point, but then we had to come to the "Devil's Elbow." Why these names so Satanic are used, is a mystery to explain, further than the roads require strength of body, strength of mind, and nerves without end to face them. Such chances of coming to grief, are to be met with going from Tamworth to Bingera. " Jordan is a hard road to travel," so says the song, and I think I may add Bingera is also. Talking to a Chinaman since, he made what struck me as rather an apt remark, "I did not travel by the coach but in company with it. I walked 50 out of 100 miles," and a just remark too, for no one knows on starting for these outlandish districts if there is ever a chance of reaching your destination……