The House on Richmond Hill

1. Kelly’s Steps, Van Diemen’s Land, 1831

After a normal cold start to the winter’s day, this particular Tuesday turned into a wonderful sunny day. A clear blue sky with hardly a cloud or wind, and a temperature that climbed enough during the day for scarves, gloves and warm hats to be dispensed with. The backdrop of the snow-capped Mount Wellington, proved beyond doubt that there was no more idyllic place to be than Hobart Town. Twelve year old Algernon Lambert made his way from his parents’ house, which was located in Arthur’s Circus, a group of small cottages positioned around a small circular green on the heights of Battery Point, along the connecting Runneymede Street, left into McGregor Street, and right into Kelly Street at the end of which were Kelly’s steps. Kelly was a turn of the century captain and he got sick and tired of walking up and down the hills so he built a narrow set of steps that took him from on high to the busy dock. At the bottom, the steps ended on a flat piece of land which until recently had been Cottage Green but was now a building site. Groups of chained convicts were levelling the ground so that the large sandstone blocks could be manipulated into position to construct the warehouses for the new facility that would bear the name of one of the Duke of Wellington’s finest, and successful, battles: Salamanca Place. In its current condition, it was an adventure playground and served as an excellent ingress and egress point for any nefarious activity. Young boys had no trouble negotiating piles of soil, gravel and stones as well as the narrowness of the steps and were able to leave any pursuing adult far behind. Algie walked along the road in front of the convicts, turned right at the top of the street and headed for the docks.

He entered a world of activity. Several ships were in port, tied up alongside the wharves, being either loaded or unloaded and cargo was being brought from, or taken to, the old warehouses surrounding the facility. A glance across to the River Derwent revealed three more two masters, manoeuvering as best they could in the ultra light winds, waiting their turn to enter the port. Algie continued walking past the buildings, turned right at the top of the street and headed for the wharves that served the larger ships. He looked around for his gang and spotted them at the most distant quay that held the day’s largest ship. As he got closer, he realised that his mates were in the company of a large, heavily tattooed sailor who was sitting on a coiled hawser. The young boys, known locally as the Hurchins, were sitting, transfixed, at his feet. Algie moved into the group, found a spot next to young Johnno, and sat down. The big sailor, an Irishman, was telling tales of his voyages and adventures and of other people, and creatures, inhabiting the oceans. He warned them never to kill an albatross because the ship would be becalmed until the crew had died of thirst. He scared them with the dangers of the monsters of the deep, like the Leviathan that could overturn even the largest of ships, and allured them with tales of the beautiful mermaids, some of whom, like the Lorelei and the Sirens, lured sailors to their deaths on the rocks, but there were others who swam ahead of the ships to guide them through difficult waters. Like all well-told tales, the stories grasped the youngsters’ imagination, which prompted the telling of the story of the woman pirate.

Sean, for that was his name, claimed that like all his stories, this was completely true. It was the remarkable tale of the so-called, and feared, Siren Queen. He told of the time he had crewed for her: an adventurous and clever woman whose real name was Rebecca Small. She was an American, married to a wastrel, and had fled her homeland to escape debtors’ jail. She recruited strong, able and lawless crewmen and, after wandering around the world hopping from island to island, always one step ahead of the authorities, found an uninhabited island in the Celibes which she used as her base. She developed an effective and unique strategy, one which, among the more learned, earned her the name of Parthenope. The whole region had not long before been colonised by the Spanish and the gang had taken Flower Island as their home. For eight or so months of the year, they behaved as normal settlers. The land was fertile and productive and they were able to establish a self-sustaining way of life. They not only cultivated the flowers that grew naturally on the island, but added a wide range of tropical fruits and vegetables which they could produce in sufficient quantities to generate a decent export income. But once the build up began, that time of the year when the clouds rolled in and humidity levels soared, they made ready for the coming storm season.

At times, these storms could be ferocious and last for several days. Their plan was simple, yet risky to implement: they would create a theatre of deception. For most of the year, their ship looked to be an ordinary, benign, coastal trading vessel and it behaved as such. It traded produce between the nearby inhabited islands, selling their goods and purchasing what they lacked. Everything was above board, legal and did not attract attention. The crew were popular and their produce admired. However, once the storms loomed, the good ship Janus turned its other face. It was made up to look as if it had been crippled by the elements. Immediately following a big blow, they would sail out to the middle of the shipping channel. Once there, they would wait for a merchantman to appear. At the first sighting, Rebecca would stand in the prow with her clothing in disarray. Being rather well-endowed, she made an alluring damsel in distress – the epitome of the Siren, luring the unwitting sailors who could see her through their telescope. As soon as they got close enough to board the “stricken” ship, the crew, armed to the teeth, appeared from below decks, attacked and killed the rescuers, stole their cargo and scuttled their ship. The choice of their island base had been a good one for it was located next to a busy shipping channel which delivered prize targets on a regular basis.

The storms, regular for this four month period each year, were the key to the success of this whole operation. Whenever the dark clouds rolled in and the strong winds and the lightning began, all ships at sea sought refuge where they could wait out the danger. Sometimes, the storms were so intense that sailing was impossible for days. This, of course, put them behind schedule which would annoy their clients so upon resuming, they hurried everything. Spotting a woman in a distressed state required a rescue but it had to be done as quickly as possible. By the time they saw the heavily armed pirate gang, it was too late. The loss of a shop and all hands was not unusual in this part of the world, especially during the storm season. Everybody knew the risks but took them because the rewards were great.

“So how did they get caught?” A boy Algie knew as Eric, had the courage to ask.

“That, young man, is an excellent question and I will tell you.” All eyes were fixed on the big storyteller. ”One day,” he continued, “after a particularly big, big storm, they went out as normal but this time, they miscalculated. For some reason; perhaps advance warning, perhaps good training; the crew of the target ship was ready for a fight. Crew on both sides were killed but the final straw was a tidal wave that broadsided the pirates’ ship and tipped them all into the sea. The rescue became real.”

“And then what did they do? Did they drown?”

“No. One or two perhaps did but the ones that survived the fight and the wave were taken to a big town where the Spanish authorities put them in gaol and later shot them all for their crimes.”

“So what happened to their Island?” The Hurchins were more emboldened now.

“The Spanish went there, took everything of value and burned all the buildings down. They then relocated some natives there. As far as I know, they still live and farm the island. It has a new name – Large Bulucan Island and they grow rice, coconuts, ginger and bananas there now. And I just heard my bell.” He dismounted from his coil. “Time to go back to work. We want to catch the tide.” He strode away and the Hurchins scattered in all directions, each to their own escape route, just in case they got into trouble, which was a frequent occurrence.

Algie headed back up the stone stairs and returned to his home. As he walked, his mind was full of images of ships, storms, monsters, battles and adventure. On opening the door of the cottage, he heard his father.

“Algernon. Is that you?”

“Yes, father.”

“Come here, if you please, I have something to tell you.” Algie opened his father’s door and poked his head in. “Don t be so timid, come in, sit down.” Algie obeyed. “I have secured a very good position for you.”

“Thank you, father.” His Hurchin days were over.

“Don’t you want to know what you will be doing?”

“Anything you arrange for me, sir, will be most satisfactory, I am certain.”

“Very well. Tomorrow I shall introduce you to Mr Rogers. He has his own bookkeeping business, called Rogers and Company, and is well respected. His rooms are nearby so you will have only a short walk to and from your place of indenture. This is an ideal position for you which will stand you in good stead for your whole life.”

“May I ask a question, sir?” Algie piped up.

“Of course you may. Proceed.”

“What is bookkeeping? What does one do?” Algie’s father, George, burst out laughing.

“Well, my boy, you will begin to find that out tomorrow.”

What was promised, transpired; some of it at least. His new master, Mr Rogers, a man of kind demeanour and few words, led his new pupil to a small wooden desk, an inkwell and a dip pen with a brand new nib. His hours of work would be between eight in the morning and six in the evening, he would be required to wear a suit, would be expected the following Monday and was expected to be on time. Early the next morning, Algie’s father took him to a bespoke tailor in Murray Street, the centre of refined tailoring in Hobart. The young man was forced to stand stock still as the tape measure was used to document this physical dimensions, allowing room for growth. Once satisfied with the accuracy of the measurements, the tailor then advised on the cloth. His suggestion of a woollen, three piece suit in a dark but gentle shade of green, was agreed upon; it would make Algie look like the perfect gentleman professional that it was intended he become. An appointment was made for a fitting the following week which meant that Algie would be unsuitably attired for at least the first two weeks of his new career. It meant, his father told him, that he would be hidden from public view and would carry out duties that would not require his permanent physical presence in the work room entered by clients. It was not a major consideration as far as Algie was concerned.

After he was stirred from his sleep the next day; Algie washed, fed, dressed and set out for his first day. He arrived, wearing his Sunday beast, at five minutes before eight. Mr Rogers saw him through the window and rose to open the door to allow him entrance. The door was locked, not to be unlocked until the final chime of the clock at the front of the room. Rogers, a grey-haired man, bespectacled in the fashion of Benjamin Franklin set his new protege to a range of mundane but useful and necessary, tasks. He was shown how to mix, decant and dispense the ink, shown where all the blank and lined paper was stored and told what each was used for. Algie was then taken to a small back room, out of sight, and was given a list of thirteen, five digit numbers and told to add them together. He could take his time, he was advised, there being no rush as accuracy as a bookkeeper, for that was what he was to become, was more important than speed. Algie, however, recognised a challenge when he saw one and, just as he had when a Hurchin, did not shrink from it. He had always had a knack for adding and subtracting and found this a simple task and even after checking it several times, he was able to present the result in under fifteen minutes. As an extra, he had also written down all the numbers in reverse and had added those up as well. Mr Rogers nodded his approval and handed him the next task. This time there were four columns headed ’Pounds (£), Shillings (S), and Pence (d). The fourth column was titled ‘Running’. The first three columns were filled with numbers. The fourth on the right hand side, was blank. Under £ the numbers ranged from 1 to 999. The S column went from 1 to 19 and the d. column contained ¼, ½, ¾, and 1 to 11. Algie had to add up each column and total them at the bottom and add each line to the ones above and enter that total in the ‘running’ column. This was something he had never done before and found it tricky at first. He had to ensure that whenever the ‘d’ number exceeded 11 ¾ it became an ‘S’ with the value of 1. Similarly, when an ‘S’ number exceeded 19, it was transferred to the £ as a 1. This slowed him down at first, but he soon got used to it and after checking his results, he handed the outcome of half an hour’s work to Mr Rogers. Rogers was astounded. He had clerks years older than Algie who had struggled with this task and often needed correcting. Algie metamorphosed from ‘protege’ to ‘prodigy’ in the space of two hours, was taken to his desk and presented with a full set of a client’s accounts to enter into a ledger and then reconcile. At the grand age of twelve, Algernon Lambert, bespoke suit or just Sunday best, had become a Bookkeeper, a position he retained with aplomb, for the following nine years.

Once mastered, the work was routine, even repetitive; only the numbers changed, and everything became predictable and comfortable. Rogers and Co. began to rely on him so much that he was placed in charge of training, was promoted to Head Bookkeeper, and received a handsome salary, and a growing reputation.

2. The Bookkeeper 1831-1840

Not long after attaining his majority, on a cold winter’s morning, Algernon picked up a copy of the Courier, Hobart’s newest newssheet and read a report extolling the virtues of the new settlement of Port Philip, an administrative district of New South Wales with its own local administration and located to the north of Van Dieman’s Land. Melbourne, the town at the head of Hobson’s Bay and at the mouth of the Yarra Yarra river, had been agreed by all to be the ideal ‘spot for a village’. Algie saw an opportunity and acted. He informed his employer and his family that he saw his future in this new Melbourne town.

Shortly after his arrival, he rented some rooms in the newly constructed suburb of Emerald Hill and advertised himself as ’The Accountant Who Understands Your Business”. He had noticed on his first walk around the small town that there didn’t appear to be any serious competition and before long, several local businesses had engaged him to improve and maintain their transaction records. He advised on overheads, cash flow, stock on hand, profit margins and wages and within a short time, his pioneer clients started to notice an upturn in their cash on hand and overall profitability. Word of mouth spread the news and before long Algie was looking for staff. Bookkeepers and accountants were in very short supply in the new settlement and initially his advertising yielded few suitable applicants. One evening, with the oil lamp burning as he worked, Algie heard a soft knock on the door. He picked up the lamp and walked over to open the door. A small, slight woman was standing there.

“I’ve come for the job,” she said in an Irish brogue.

“Come in.” He held the door open for her and she entered. He gestured to a chair. “And what is your name?” he asked.

“I am Maureen O’Connell. Granddaughter of the Wexford transported hero.” She was strong willed, that was for sure.

“So what makes you think you should be employed as a bookkeeper?”

“Because, sir, I can do the work and you need the work done.”

Algie handed her exactly the same test that he had been given by Mr Rogers. She completed the first one in about 20 minutes. He then gave her the second test. It took her about three quarters of an hour but she was neat, and correct.

“The door opens at eight in the morning,” he said.

“I will be there.” She rose, nodded her head and strode out of the room. It was the first time Algernon had ever employed anyone.

She was early, of course, arriving before her employer so Algernon unlocked the door and held it open for her to enter, raising his hat as he did so.

“Madam,” he said as he followed her into the office. She looked around the room and selected a desk nearest the window and placed her portmanteau on it while she removed her outdoor clothing: her coat, scarf and hat, and hung them up on the coat stand in the corner. Dressed as she was in the modern style with conservative colours she returned to her desk where she opened her travelling bag and proceeded to remove some items and place them, neatly, on her desk. First out were three nib pens which were followed by three jars of ink: black, blue and red, one for each pen which she placed next to its jar. Algernon watched, transfixed by what was unfolding. A straight line ruler was next, followed by several sheets of blotting paper and a chalk dust shaker. The final item was a pile of neatly cut blank paper for workings out, notations or any other aids to memory and accuracy to ensure that each entry in the ledger was correct the first time. There were to be no corrections in her books. The ritual complete, she then looked up and spoke.

“Good morning, Mr. Lambert. I am now ready to commence work. What would you like me to do?”

“Good morning to you, madam. You are very well organised. The files which contain the data to be entered into the formal ledgers, are located on those shelves,” he pointed to a wooden bookcase, crammed with very thick manila folders, “so feel free to take the bottom one as it is the oldest. All these client files are at the stage whereby the supportive and explanatory documentation, and my interview notes, are all in order. All that needs to be done is to enter the transactions and reconcile in the normal manner. Once complete, the file and its ledger can be placed here,” he gestured to a table next to his much larger desk, “where I can double check and then make an appointment with the client. Oh, and the personal facilities are through there, behind the curtain. Any questions?” As he finished he looked up to see her carrying a large file to her desk.

“Everything is quite clear, sir. If there is something I do not understand, I shall ask, of course.”

For the next few hours, silence, beyond the dipping and scratching of pens, reigned. At half past ten, Algernon stood from his desk and disappeared into a small room at the rear of the building. He emerged a short time later and asked,

“How do you like your tea?”

She turned, surprised at the interruption. “Why, just as it comes, thank you but I must insist that from now on this must be part of my duties. The employer does not serve the employee. It is not the correct protocol.”

“Then I shall accede. Can we agree on times?” Algernon smiled.

“May I suggest we break for tea at ten thirty of the a.m.? We can then take lunch for half an hour at twelve thirty and have our afternoon break at three. Is that satisfactory, do you think? If we can settle on these quite generous conditions, then you can state this to any future potential employee.”

“Those times are quite acceptable but ‘future employee’? Do you have something in mind?”

“I apologise for being presumptive but with the enormous amount of work you are generating,” she said, indicating the backlog of files in the bookcase, “I made the assumption that I would not be the last.” She fixed her eyes on him, almost as if she was demanding a decision. He handed her the well-brewed cup of tea, drew up a chair, sat opposite her and asked,

“So, in your opinion madam, how many clerks do you think I need?” She sipped her tea, fearing the worst. She was correct. He had no idea how to make a decent cuppa.

“Straight away? I would suggest two more.” She answered.

“Two?” He exclaimed. “I found it hard enough to recruit you.”

“Perhaps you have been looking in the wrong place.”

“How so?”

“The newssheets.”

“What do you mean?”

“The people you are looking for don’t read them.”

“How do you know that?”

”Melbourne is not a big town. I know who can do what. You, with the greatest of respect, sir, are a relative newcomer. The people you are looking for are women, not men, and women are far too busy with work, home and family to bother reading the news sheets.”

“Well if they are that busy, how would they be able to hold down a position such as I would offer?”

“By sharing responsibilities. When I answered that I felt you needed two more clerks, what I meant was two more desks filled on a full time basis, but that could be achieved by a rotation system. I can bring some candidates to you for an interview. I know several women who could do the routine work at least, and learn more. They would need to be supervised however but not for lack of assiduous character but to ensure accuracy.” Algernon could see the way this conversation was heading. He finished his tea, called an end and returned to his desk. Nothing more was said that day. Nor the next. In fact, for the remainder of the week, conversation other than work specific was limited to mere politeness. At home, however, it was a different matter.

He had recently come across a new technique called the spreadsheet. He had only ever experimented with it but Mrs O’Connell’s ambitions gave him a reason to apply it to a real situation: his own business. He drew up a grid on a blank piece of A3 paper, orientated it to landscape and set to work. He knew it would take some time, so he did not rush. His goal was to produce a projected twelve month cash flow based on three scenarios: best case, worst case and neutral. Only then would he feel confident in making a decision which would have long term consequences. He was also aware that, if successful, this spreadsheet method could become an important part of the service he could offer his clients.

He had ruled fourteen columns, thirteen of which would contain numbers; one for each month and one for the annual total. The widest was on the far left hand side for the descriptor. At the top of the columns he wrote, left to right, “Name” and the numbers 1 to 12 signifying the months. The final heading was “Total”. The whole sheet was divided in two: the upper half was designated “Income”; the bottom half “Expenditure”. Each half was subtotalled and at the foot was “Y minus X”, “Y” being income,and “X” being expenditure. Satisfied that his template was correct, he drew two more, all three being identical. At the top, centre was “Best Case” on one, “Worst Case” on another and “Neutral” on the third. Only then did he start to enter numbers, in pencil so he could make changes.

This work consumed a full week of his free time at his residence. When all cells were filled and all calculations made, two of the three scenarios showed a positive outcome. Only the worst case was negative but that, intentionally, assumed insolvency as the end result. The key was, as always in commerce, the clients. It would be necessary to not only retain those he already had, but continue to add to them and bringing bigger businesses with them. Given that normal proviso and, of course, keeping a keen weather eye on the ups and downs of the local economy, he saw no reason why he should not expand. In fact, the more he studied the numbers, the more it became clear that NOT expanding was the more risky strategy.

He chose the following Tuesday’s morning tea break to deliver his verdict. “I have considered your suggestion,” he began, “and made some calculations.”

“Yes Mr Lambert. What have you decided?” She sipped her tea and waited.

“Providing I can continue to both preserve the current client base, and expand it, which I think I can, then your proposal is financially sustainable. However...”

“There is a problem?” she asked.

“You have suggested two news clerks, or the equivalent, correct?”

“That is what I thought when I saw how much work needs to be done, yes.”

“Then I will need a supervisor. I cannot do my own work and supervise three clerks at the same time.”

“I see. So it cannot be done then?”

“There is one way.”

“Oh?”

“Would you be prepared to take on the additional responsibility, with appropriate remuneration of course?”

“Most of the colleens I know are intelligent, well read and well learned. They just have never been given a chance. Most have been deserted by the fathers of their children and understand from experience to take an opportunity to better themselves. They will be dedicated and would be able to do the basics of entry and addition straight away. I know I can teach them the rest and get everything ready for you to present to the clients. I accept your kind offer, sir. We are a poor community and nobody will employ a woman.”

“Then ask them to come in for a chat.”

“Yes sir. Thank you sir. You will never regret this. This business will grow and grow.”

They finished their tea and returned to work.

3. Separation 1851

As predicted, Algernon’s business did grow steadily after the decision to expand the number of staff. Maureen recruited and trained them with acumen and introduced a whole new system of rotation, or job-sharing. This allowed her to employ more than four and gave the women, most of whom had young children, a degree of flexibility. The number of staff working under Maureen at any one time in the clerks’ room was only ever four, but up to eight women actually worked there across the week. The clerks, once trained, were able to share the load and combine work and family. This had an immediate impact on their lives by helping to lift them out of the extreme poverty and squalor that their status as deserted mothers had condemned them to. They were able to move from the shanty town residences of Collingwood and Fitzroy into accommodation that at least provided proper, habitable facilities. In return, they provided not just reliable and professional workmanship, but valuable immeasurable assets like loyalty, honesty and gratitude.

With the solid foundation this workforce gave him, Algernon was confident enough to instigate controlled expansion. He registered the name: ‘Lambert’s Bookkeeping Services’, enlarged his client base both in number and quality so that by the time Goldsbrough entered unannounced on a cold, wet and windy day in June 1847, the same year that Melbourne, with a population approaching 20,000, officially became a city, Algernon had relocated from Emerald Hill to a brand new Clifton Hill quarried bluestone premises in Gipps Street, East Melbourne. The design was radical and represented a new style of architecture that took into account the climatic extremes. In summer, on the hottest days, it was comfortable. In the winter, it was cosy, snug and comforting, especially when the fires burned in the grates and the cast iron surrounds radiated the heat. For Algernon, it was a perfect fit: he took the whole bottom floor. The building was located only a short walk from where his employees lived but had the position and status that appealed to his well-heeled clients.

The other major development in Algernon’s life was his marriage, in May 1846, to Felicity Haines, the daughter of Dr. William Clark Haines, a well respected surgeon/farmer from the Geelong region. It was a five hour trip by steamer to and from the two ports so the lengthy period of courtship had involved several such journeys.

The peace of the work room was suddenly interrupted by the outside door being thrown open.

“Good grief!” How cold is this?”

Algernon, Maureen and their four clerks turned their heads in unison as the strong wind caught the door and slammed it shut again with some force. They observed the newcomer. He was a short, solid, portly man, dressed impeccably who spoke with a broad, but educated, Northern English accent. Algernon rose from his desk and approached the intruder. “Can I be of any assistance, sir?” He asked with his right hand outstretched. The visitor took the proffered greeting and enquired,

“Mr. Lambert?”

“At you service, sir.”

“Good. I am Richard Goldsbrough, recently arrived from Yorkshire with a plan to establish a business. My good friend, Charles Dowling, who, as you know has already established a thriving new international trading business in these parts, suggested just this morning to consult with you. Would that be possible?”

“Mr. Dowling? Ah. If that is the case, please follow me” and led his potential new client to what he referred to as the ‘meeting room’. Charles Dowling was a long-standing client of Lambert’s having placed the bookkeeping of his trading company with him not long after Algernon’s arrival in Port Philip. Once the newcomer, Dowling had made the long trip from England and had established the colony’s first fully professional merchant concern. This had an immediate impact as it provided an incentive for pastoralists and the like to establish an agricultural base for Port Philip, begin to trade and help establish the financial viability of the new settlement. Over the years they had cemented their professional relationship as Lamberts established itself as a major force in the developing world of Melbourne business.

“God’s blood, that’s better, “ said Goldsbrough as he thawed himself before the fire. He accepted the cup of tea brought to him by Maureen and, warmed, sat in a chair ready to parlay. “Now, Mr. Lambert. To business. I am a Yorkshireman and typical of my race. Blunt. To the point.” Lambert nodded his understanding. “I have come to this new country to establish a wool sorting and marketing business and I am in need of someone who can deal with the formal transactional documentation of my complete account. I have taken an option on a suitable building in Bourke Street where, once I have had it fitted it out to my requirements, I intend to hold regular auction sales. The land here is perfect for the growing of fine wool and I anticipate that most of my time will be spent advising growers as to the best methods of the production of high grade fibre. I require a good, solid, trustworthy business base here in the city to attend to the financial affairs on my behalf. “

“An ambitious plan indeed, if I may say.”

“You may. It is, and it will be successful. I have many buyers in England waiting for me to supply them.”

“Do you have a company or will you need one to be set up?”

“I have just purchased an established going concern from a Mr. Bakewell which I judge puts me in an excellent position to expand.”

“May I see your current accounts?”

“Of course. I will arrange for them to be delivered.”

“Thank you. Once I have studied them, I will advise you. The numbers will dictate my decision and any advice I may proffer.”

The two men stood, shook hands, and before he left, Goldsbrough looked at the painting hanging above the fireplace. “Is that a depiction of the Port of Melbourne?” He asked.

“Indeed it is. It was painted not long after my arrival from Van Dieman’s Land nearly ten years ago.”

“Ten years? You have done well in that time.”

“Thank you.”

Goldsbrough left and, unruffled, Algernon returned to his desk and awaited developments.

He did not have long to wait. Around two o’clock in the afternoon, a number of parcels were hand delivered by a man in a brown dust coat pulling a hand cart. Algernon immediately turned to his new task, unpacked the boxes and began to scrutinise the data. It took him most of that and the following week and once completed, he began to translate the information onto a spreadsheet, initially for the first twelve months and then to 24 months hence. He was astounded at his findings and sent word to Goldsbrough that he was ready. By the time their meeting ended, a new industry was born. They would set up a ‘one stop shop’ that would cater for every requirement of the wool and ovine industry, from breeding to clothing, lamb to plate. They would provide breeding, broking, auctioneering, classifying and financing services. The colonies had never seen anything like this.

Later that year, in the last month of spring and with the warmer weather having arrived, Lambert was in a lengthy meeting with the finance committee of the Melbourne City Council. Algernon had been seconded to advise on the expansion plans under consideration. Applications for licenses to operate commercial businesses in Melbourne were growing and the Finance Committee had been requested to advise the council as to the best use of the anticipated boost to its financial resources. Lambert’s skill in spreadsheeting projections was, by now, well known in the business community and his was an obvious secondment. At their November meeting, held in Lambert’s famed ‘meeting room’, they were discussing road improvements when the door opened and Maureen entered unannounced. She apologised for the interruption, walked over to her employer and handed him a folded sheet of paper. He opened it, rose to his feet and informed the meeting of its contents.

It was an historic moment for all concerned. The letter was the notification of a proclamation that had been issued by the Colonial Office of the Imperial Government and was dated August 5th 1850. It had taken three months to arrive in Melbourne but the news was most welcome. On July 1st 1851, the region known as the Port Philip district of the colony of New South Wales would be declared a colony to be named after the Queen: Victoria. For eleven long, and frustrating years, the denizens of the district had petitioned, lobbied, and argued for this separation from the first colony, airing a range of grievances to support their case. Firstly, they were not a convict settlement and resisted all efforts to establish gaols. As a consequence, they argued that financial decisions made in Sydney were not appropriate for Melbourne as priorities were different. Rightly or wrongly, the dignitaries of Melbourne were suspicious of their counterparts in Sydney and regarded them with a degree of contempt.

After reading the announcement, Lambert resumed his seat and was replaced by the chair of the committee, Charles Latrobe. He called for three cheers for the Queen and formally closed the meeting. As the members made their way out of the room, Latrobe approached Lambert, shook his hand and said,

“This is a great day, Algernon. Thank you for reading it to us.”

“What else could I do with a room full of politicians?” They laughed together.

“Quite, and now we face the task of transitioning from a District to a Colony with a deadline less than eight months hence. There is much to achieve in such a short time.”

“I can imagine. It will not be easy.”

“No, but it has to be done. We will need a government and a whole new structure of governance.”

“I suppose we will.”

“Would you have an interest in serving in some formal capacity. We will need good people, as many as we can attract.”

“You flatter me, Charles, but I am no politician. My world is numbers, business, advising. My work load is increasing already and my contribution will be to assist in the development of the economic wealth of the colony, not its administration. I prefer to leave that to men like you.” He smiled, anticipating the opportunities this change in status would present him with. “I would be a fish out of water, and not much use to you.”

“Thank you for your honesty. I am certain that the responsibility of engineering of this transition will fall to me, at least to provide the initial impetus.”

“Then, as a friend, I wish you all good fortune and I do not envy your task.”

“Neither do I but someone has to lead! I will be in touch, Algernon, with your consent, of course.”

“I am at your service, sir.”

Charles Latrobe had been an inspired choice to represent British interests in this newest of all Imperial settlements and in addition to his formal position, he was also a keen, and very knowledgeable, amateur geologist. This pursuit, and similar fossicking and collecting activities, had become a major interest of the European leisured classes. Over the course of the era, they assembled imposing displays of samples of minerals, plants, insects, small animals, birds or whatever took their interest, that they preserved, organised and catalogued. On his arrival as Superintendent of the Port Philip District of N.S.W in October 1839 he seized upon the opportunity to be the first investigate the geology of the area and by the time both he and the province were elevated; he to Lieutenant-Governor and the province to the status of a self-governing colony in 1851, he had more than a passing knowledge of the various strata that lay deep beneath their feet. The uppermost was from the most recent Silurian epoch and was comprise primarily of marine formed deposits like siltstone and thin bedded sandstone. This was a pleasant find because it meant he would be able to excavate with far more ease than if he had been faced with the lower levels formed by volcanic activity in the Pliocene and earlier Tertiary epochs which had deposited basalts, scoria, sand, gravel and ash. Latrobe, in his spare time, often disappeared from view, visiting one promising new site after another, chipping away at the rock formations or examining debris from new workings to enlarge his new collection.

One day, in 1847, Latrobe had received intelligence that a new excavation was being dug so at the first opportunity, he headed for Limeburners’ Point near Geelong. On arrival, he found a cornucopia of marine deposits which had been uncovered by the extraction of lime. Whilst on his hands and knees, engrossed in this private world of science, a worker came over to him.

“Mr. Latrobe, sir,” he said with due deference to the nominal head of government. Latrobe looked up, held his hand up to shield the rays of the sun so he could see more clearly. A burly man dressed in hardwearing working clothing dusted with the telltale white lime dust, stood above him. Latrobe rose.

“Good afternoon,” he replied, “and what can I do for you?”

“I found these yesterday and do not know what to do with them.” He pulled an iron ring out of a bag with five keys attached. “When I heard you were coming, I thought you would know best.” Latrobe took the offered keys and began to examine them.

“Interesting,” he remarked. “Where did you find these? Show me if you would, please.” The man, who identified himself as George, led the way to a layer of shells, about fifteen feet down and forty feet from the shoreline where an excavation for a new kiln had been carried out. Latrobe was fascinated by the find and judged, from their appearance and where they were found, that the keys had to be at least one hundred to one hundred and fifty years old. That interpretation was soon disputed by the limeburners themselves who pointed out that prospectors looking for payable metals would often insert metal objects, such as keys, which would oxidise in the presence of minerals. A green oxide would indicate the presence of copper, a valuable resource. Further questioning of witnesses revealed that the keys, with no trace of oxidising, had been found among a pile of shells that had fallen from above and landed at the bottom of the pit.

Latrobe was unconvinced and retained his original opinion that the keys were evidence of the presence of Europeans some hundred or so years prior to British settlement. He postulated that they were either Portuguese from the late sixteenth century, or Dutch from the seventeenth, and possibly associated with the Mahogany ship.

Melbourne, and other parts of Victoria - the new name caught on very quickly – went crazy with the news. Six days after the annual commemoration of the failure of the Gunpowder plot and the preservation of the non-Catholic Parliamentary regime that Victoria would now emulate, five official days of partying spontaneously broke out. Algernon, as antisocial as usual, did not participate but he was generous with his staff and allowed them time off to join in the fun. During these five days there were street parties, beacons lit, cannons fired and even message balloons released to spread the good news. Unfortunately, none of them reached further than the immediate precincts being too fragile. On the 13th, every household placed a candle in their front window on what was designated ‘Illumination Day’. These celebrations culminated on the 15th with a large street parade which began in William Street, passed over the six year old Princes’ Bridge and terminated at the Botanical Gardens, laid down in 1846. It was there that Charles Latrobe stood under a big River Red Gum and delivered an inspirational speech looking to the future. Henceforth, that tree became known as the ‘Separation Tree’.

4. A City takes Shape

Melbourne in winter can be a bleak place. The southerly winds, emanating from the vast Antarctic Ocean, gather potency as they sweep from Bass Strait and across Port Philip Bay. The city, at the northern end of the bay, is unprotected and takes the full force of the storms. Such was the case one dreadful night and day in mid August 1851. A tempest blew in during the night. The wind speeds were extreme, there were innumerable flashes of lightning, and very loud claps of thunder. The downpour followed straight after, turning the north-south streets into fast flowing rivers which emptied into the Yarra. The next morning, after the seven o’clock sunrise, revealed the full catastrophe. Streets had been washed away and there was debris and rubbish everywhere. The cleanup and repair would take weeks to put right, which raised another problem that Algernon Lambert clearly understood as he stood at his office window and contemplated the devastation: who would pay? Formal separation had only been promulgated the previous month, and the fledgling colony and the formal structures of responsible government for both the city and the colony were not yet operational.

Lambert left the sanctuary of his place of work and ventured out into the wilderness. There were few others out and about but as he turned right into Swanston Street, a major north/south arterial, he caught sight of a mother and daughter struggling their way northwards on the opposite side of the street. Suddenly, the young girl,no more that eight years of age in Algernon’s estimation, turned and ran back. Her mother, her grip on her daughter’s hand broken, stood nonplussed. The girl stopped, looked and ran to the centre of what had until overnight been a serviceable dirt road. Algernon and the mother, from different viewpoints, watched as she slipped and slithered her way to her target. She bent down, picked something out of the mud and ran as best she could back to her mother, brandishing her prize. After a brief conversation, an object was placed into the palm of the woman’s glove who looked at it and squealed. Algernon made the assumption that there was some sort of problem so he crossed the road to offer whatever assistance he could. The woman, still with one hand over her mouth, showed him what was laying in the other hand. He saw, to his amazement, the familiar twisted, gnarled shape of a not unsubstantial nugget of gold.

“Well, madam,” said Algie as he doffed his hat, “it appears to be your day of good fortune, but what an odd place to locate such an item. And you, young lady,” he addressed the child, “must have the eyes of an eagle to be able to spot something that small from that distance.” The girl said nothing and retreated behind her mother’s skirts.

Algernon formally introduced himself and offered his assistance, should she so require, in converting her nugget into cash. She accepted so he accompanied mother and daughter to the Treasury Building in William Street where they redeemed her discovery for the value of its weight. She was delighted to place the half sovereign in her purse, after Algernon had spoken to the officer conducting the transaction.

When news of this find became known through the auspices of the Herald newspaper, a mini gold rush hit the streets of Melbourne and its surrounds. Small amounts were found in Londsdale Street, Flagstaff Gardens, and Swanston Street. The pickings were meagre, however, and attention soon focussed on the larger finds at Clunes, a find that was rewarded with the sum of £200 being the money offered by the Gold Discovery Committee, which was shared between William Campbell, James Esmond, and Dr. George Bruhn. Substantial discoveries were also,made at Bunninyong and then Bendigo and Ballarat. By the end of the year, the Victorian gold rush was in full swing.

“Good afternoon, Algernon.” Lambert had been staring out of the window, musing on the deserted streets that he viewed. He turned to greet his visitor.

“Lieutenant-Governor. This is a surprise. To what do I owe this honour?”

Latrobe took a seat. “I have interrupted you. What were you contemplating?”

“Only the future. It doesn’t look as if there will be a huge demand for our services in the short term. Perhaps the medium as well.”

“Indeed, Melbourne has become a ghost town almost overnight. Anyone remotely able bodied has relocated to the goldfields. What will you do?”

“Oh. I will wait. They will return with or without full pockets. I have some plans. But what brings you here?”

“I have come to understand, from your example, how important being honest with yourself is. Remember when I asked for your participation in the new administration?” Lambert nodded. “You declined my invitation. A ‘fish out of water’ you said.”

“I did say that, yes.”

“Well you were right and I was wrong. I too am a fish out of water. I am not suited to this task of the construction of a new legal, political, economic and moral structure. I am contemplating resignation. What do you think?”

“I think that is your decision. Have you mentioned this to your family?”

“No. Not at all. Not yet.”

“Why not? If you resign, what would happen?”

“Assuming it was accepted?”

“Yes.”

“Then when a replacement had been appointed, I would have to return to Britain where I would await another appointment.”

“These are major changes, not just for yourself but your whole family. I would strongly advise you consult before any final decision is arrived at.”

“Is it not weakness of character. An admission of failure?”

“Honesty is never a weakness, my friend, but before I leave, I have something to do. I want you to have this.” He handed Algernon a black velvet bag.

“What is this?”

“Open it up and take a look.”: Algernon obeyed the order of the Lt. Governor. He reached his hand into the bag and pulled out a bunch of keys.

“Are these of some significance?” He asked, somewhat mystified by his friend’s gesture.

“What is your immediate impression?” Algy took a closer look.

“Other than they look quite old, I would not have the remotest idea what they are and why you would present them to me.”

“My good friend, that is a very good question and I shall explain.” Which he did, at some length, explaining the geological location and all the different theories and interpretations of their existence, their finding and their age. He concluded, “sooner or later, this city will have a museum. I would like to think that these artifacts will be on public display in that place., I hereby entrust their destiny to you.”

Six weeks later, Lt. Governor Charles Latrobe announced his intention, as soon as arrangements for his replacement could be made, to return with his family to England, a wish that was not fulfilled until 1854 when his wife was near death.

To his credit, Lambert did not reduce the hours or numbers of his workforce during this lull. Other than the work coming from the government, there was very little business activity in Melbourne. Instead, he increased the level of training and planned for what he anticipated would become an expansive future. One morning, for example, some workmen with long ladders, erected an eye-catching sign across the front of the building that proclaimed: LAMBERT’S – FOR ALL YOUR ACCOUNTING NEEDS in large gold lettering. It left no doubt to whom this was directed and from where he expected the next stage of business growth would originate. Lambert stood and watched as the sign was lifted into place with a degree of inner pride. He was jolted back to reality by a tap on his shoulder. He turned and saw the broad grinning face of his father-in-law, Dr. Wliiam Clark Haines.

“Goodness, sir, what a pleasant surprise! What could have possibly dragged you away from your idyllic life on the Bellarine?” He asked.

“Have you not heard the news, then?” Haines had a broad smile on his face, knowing that if his son-in-law was not aware then there had been no leakages of the information.

“News? No. Pray tell.”

“I am here to assume the position of the leader of the new Legislative Council which will sit for the first time next week at St. Patrick’s Hall in Bourke Street.” Algernon, impressed with the information, shook hands with his father-in-law in a genuine act of congratulations.

“Great news, Sir and well earned. The colony could not be in better hands.”

“I hope you are correct Algernon. The little political experience I have has hopefully prepared me for this much larger task and as I no longer farm, I have the time to dedicate myself to the challenges that lie ahead. Now. Am I correct in assuming that I can rely on your assistance, young man? We have much to do and I will need all hands on deck.”

“Oh.” This caught Algernon by surprise. “well, I, er ...”

“Good lad. I knew I could count on you. We’re going to get a few new construction projects going and I will need a good numbers man, and you are the best.” Politicians and trowels have always been inseparable.

“Oh I see. So, I can avoid the politics then?”

“Of course. That’s MY job.”

“Then I look forward to making whatever contribution I can.”

Haines slapped Algernon on the back, “Good lad,” he repeated and strode off to his next assignment.”Oh, nice sign by the way. Very professional,” he shouted over his shoulder leaving Lambert to contemplate what he had just agreed to. Ongoing government work would underwrite his existing business but if, as he expected, the gold was to find itself to Melbourne, he might become over-committed.

Just before Christmas in 1851, Mrs. Cassandra Lambert, wife of Algernon and daughter of Dr. William Haines, pulled her husband aside from his spreadsheets and whispered,

“I’m pregnant, my dear and this time the hospital says everything is quite normal and we should expect to be parents in April or May.”

Cassandra and Algey had been through the extreme devastations of five early-term miscarriages and two still births so they understood better than most that disappointment could still lay ahead. The prognosis being completely positive, however, gave them hope that, this time, they would be blessed. For the next few months, both families lived on tenterhooks until, in early April, Cassandra was confined by her doctor to her bedroom and was attended to by a midwife where she gave birth to a healthy, seven pound eight ounce male baby. Eustace Algernon had entered the world and the Lambert name would continue. By pure coincidence,that same month saw the first export of eight tons of gold from Victoria to London. Eustace and the gold rush arrived almost simultaneously.

The summer of 1852 had been benign by comparison to the previous year’s. The devastating bushfires had burned one third of the colony, killed one million sheep and a dozen or so people. The intensity of the heat and the power of the winds came as a complete surprise to the European settlers and had given those in authority a serious warning of what this new, underestimated and misunderstood, terrain could deliver without warning. Summer, and especially the months of January and Februrary, could be dangerous.

The respite allowed civic plans to proceed apace. The new Legislative Council, part nominated, part elected, got to work and began to Gazette their discussions and proposals for general debate. Their ideas were ambitious and Algernon could clearly discern the hand of his father-in-law. The government had decided to expand and develop both the city and the wider colony. A detailed five year proposal of public works was presented consisting of: a gas works, a university, a railway, a library, a town Hall and a museum. Other works were proposed for Geelong, Ballarat and Bendigo as well as along the shipwreck coast where safety and rescue was of prime concern. Above everything, however, was the draft of the constitution: the first in the whole British Empire. As Algernon read through the Gazette, his eyes widened. He could readily discern where his expertise would be required.

The immediate obstacle was obvious: finance. Not only would substantial funds be required for construction but an ongoing cash flow would be essential to support the functionality of the various projects. He addressed these issues in Haines’ splendid new wood panelled office.

“These project proposals,” he began

“Exciting aren’t they?” Haines interrupted.

“I am concerned about the cost, possible overruns and ongoings.”

“Good. Someone needs to. What exactly are your concerns?”

“Well, to start with … ” At that moment the door opened and in strode Latrobe, resplendent in his uniform of office. The two men rose, and bowed; this was, after all, the official representative of her Majesty.

“I’m glad I’ve caught you Mr. Lambert.”

“Your Excellency.”

“Now. I interrupted you when I entered. Pray, do continue.”

“I have some misgivings in regard to the Council’s ambitious civil works proposals.”

“Oh? What concerns? Are they inappropriate?”

“That is not my concern. That is a question for the politicians. I am looking at the finances. There are many questions.”

“Fire away,” said Haines.

“Well, my first,and most obvious, is the total cost. Where does the colony anticipate the source of this funding to be? Local levies and taxes won’t get close.”

Latrobe and Haines exchanged glances, Haines raised an eyebrow. Latrobe nodded.

“What I am about to tell you concerns the way the whole Empire is governed and is therefore of the highest level of secrecy. You understand?”

“Of course.”

“Then Mr. Haines will explain.

Which is precisely what he did for the next half an hour, or so. Lambert sat transfixed.

For about fifteen years, it was known to a very small coterie of pastoralists, clients and friends of Haines in fact, that their properties contained unknown amounts, but substantial, deposits of gold. At this time, the pastoralists, who had leased or purchased their land from the Crown, lived in fear of it being taken from them by the wealthier, and politically more powerful settlers known as the Squatters. These people, who became known as the ‘Squattocracy’ answered only to Sydney and even then, only when it suited them. Over the decades they changed from poor, often ex-convicts, to members of the British opportunistic middle class who stole huge tracts of land, waged war on the blacks and gained extreme wealth. The colonial government of New South Wales, particularly under the obnoxious and obsequious Governor Brisbane, were either complicit or powerless. This was something that could not, and would not, happen in the Port Philip district. It was the birth of the Separation movement and the Melbournites went for it. The last thing they wanted was the already powerful and wealthy squatters becoming aware of the gold. It stayed undiscovered, awaiting the right moment. They had to be patient. The political priority became separation from New South Wales. Throughout the 1830s and 1840s, lobby after lobby, submission after submission petitioned the British Government. In the end, the balance was tipped purely on the basis of population. Eager to avoid the problems of the American colonies, self government was granted once the main city attained a resident population of 40,000. Melbourne was declared a city in 1848 and in July 1851 Victoria became a colony. One month later it was announced that gold had been discovered. Algernon, listening, seemed disturbed.

“Stop.” He interposed. “You have already told me that people knew about the gold long before this date. Correct?”

”Correct.”

“Well I have been doing some research on all this and I don’t like what I have discovered. I have looked at the banks in particular.”

“And?” Asked Haines

“It is very suspicious.”

“What is?” Asked Latrobe.

“Before I came here there were two very small banks: the Derwent Bank from Hobart and the Commercial Banking Company from Sydney. In 1839, these two small, agent-orientated banks were forced out by the Bank of Australasia and the Union Bank of Australia. What perturbs me the most is that the Bank of New South Wales opened a fully operational branch in Melbourne in April 1851.”

“So? Melbourne was growing and was still part of New South Wales. I don’t see your point.” Haines commented

“I do.” Latrobe was agitated. “Those bastards knew. But we didn’t know they did. How on earth...?”

“It had to be more than just scuttlebutt for them to commit to a full-on branch. Their information was rock solid.” Both Lambert and Latrobe looked at Haines. He shrugged his shoulders.

“My next point,” Lambert continued, follows on from that. Where are you obtaining the ongoing finance for these projects?

Latrobe answered. “In April of this year we sent eighty tons of gold to the colonial treasury.”

“Eighty tons? Wow!”

“The banks have been instructed to lend against this collateral.”

“Which banks and at what rate of interest? I cannot believe I am hearing this. I really can’t. We send our gold to to Britain which they keep and then allow banks that they select to lend money to us at a commercial rate of interest? Is that the deal?”

Latrobe answered.”In a nutshell, yes. I am not happy with this arrangement either.”

“I need to think this through.” said Lambert. “On the surface it appears as if New South Wales is trying to regain control of Victoria through their banks. We cannot allow that to happen if we value our independence.”

This time Haines, the politician, interposed. “You are here to give advice. What is your advice?”

“Say no.”

“Unfortunately, the decision is the Colonial Office’s. It is Britain’s gold and they can do whatever they choose with it. We have an input into the design and scope of the projects but not the financing. We do have to make sure we stay within budget which is where you come in.”

“Oh? How?”

“I am hereby appointing you Comptroller of Victoria. As of now.”

Algernon was trapped. His resistance had been futile. They, Latrobe and Haines, had ganged up on him and had eased him into a formal position within the new political and governmental structure. He had resisted for the singular reason of not offending his clients. He dealt with squatters, pastoralists, artisans, miners; people from all walks of life and with widely differing aims, ambitions and beliefs and he feared being identified with any one group or faction. Lamberts’ catered for all comers without exception and alienated nobody. He would need to be very cautious and use extreme diplomacy to tread this fine line.

5. Laws

As the Summer gave way to Autumn, and then Winter, a noticeable change came over Melbourne yet again. The empty, deserted, tumbleweed city began to fill. Young men began to return; some with riches, most with nothing. Work was scarce for the unskilled and pressure began to build on both the City Council and the Colonial Government to find some solutions before feared lawlessness developed in the streets. Algernon, having endured almost eighteen months of professional ennui, became inundated. On top of the work from the Legislative Council came a steady stream of new clients who had been drawn to Lambert’s by the sign. As intended, these newcomers associated the gold colour with what they had mined and assumed that Algernon had some special expertise. He was therefore faced with both sides of the changing nature of the colony: as Comptroller he had to ensure the projects were efficient and timely to absorb the excess labour force; and as Lambert’s he began to deal with those who suddenly had more assets than they could conceive of. The change in tempo was so rapid, he was satisfied with his decision to retain all of his staff during the quiet time for they were primed and ready to cope with this increased workload.

His life filled with meetings and consultations with clients, committees and officials. After one such, a lengthy Steering Committee meeting that signed off on the first projects, the gas works, the University of Melbourne and the first railway terminus, the chair, William Haines, drew his son in law aside.

“You look concerned, young Algie, is there a problem?”

“This constitution.” He replied.

“What about it?”

“Would you vote for it?”

Haines paused before answering. “I already have. You have misgivings?”

“Yes. Several, in fact.”

Haines took Lambert’s arm, led him out of the building room and across the road to a leafy park opposite. They sat on a wooden bench and Haines invited him to elaborate. He picked through the draft document, point by point, clause by clause, subsection by subsection, drawing Haines into a complicated discussion. For the first time, despite his friendships and relationships, he began to gain an insight into the world of the politician. What they were discussing was what those involved in drawing it up considered maximised the possibilities of being acceptable to everyone. The Colonial Office and the Parliament at Westminster would have the final say before it was turned into a formal Act of Parliament. It was likely to be a lengthy, drawn-out process given that the Colonial office had a policy that what applied to one colony, applied to all. Compromise and practicality would always take precedence over any hint of idealism or, worse, political theory. By the time the discussion ended, Algernon felt politically chastised although he was still not happy with the franchise arrangements especially for the upper of the bicameral houses. To him, the property qualifications of £100 if owned or £10 per annum if leased, set too high a requirement to become a Legislative Councillor, and would heavily favour one group:the Squatters,who had paid nothing for their land and contributed nothing to the welfare of the Colony. One aspect did appeal to him: the proposal to introduce a secret ballot. If the question of qualification could be resolved to be more inclusive, the secret ballot would do the rest.

They strolled back to the foyer of the building where a prepared bundle of documents were handed to Algernon. “The next lot of projects. Let us know your views please.”

The new Legislative Council had been busy. This second round of proposals were to cover the period up to 1855, with some “pencilled in” proposals taking the programme up to 1859. As usual for Algernon, the numbers would tell the tale. Just as before, each proposal would be analysed as a stand alone project and would be put to the spreadsheet test. Then, given the impact they would have on the overall budget of the Colony, they would be amalgamated in summary form and a master sheet showing the complete financial state of the government could be generated.

One most useful consequence of his new position as Comptroller of Victoria was that he had the full authority of the Crown to investigate all and any financial relationships conducted by the colony and commercial entities. Some ideas began to foment which he would dell on, but his priority was clear: all projects had to be subjected to his forensic analysis and assessment.

While the new Victorian burgocracy worked on building their political, economic and physical nirvana, people started to return to the city, first as a trickle, then in a torrent. A few had full pockets, or rather gold holdings at the Treasury, while most had returned with nothing and returned to nothing. Algernon’s business was, of course, pitched at the winners but he had ulterior motives. With the eye, and the mind, of a progressive accountant, he saw everything as a double entry. The successful, the minority, would be shown the long-term benefits of investment in a range of businesses, all of which would provide work, housing and education for the majority. They would then spend most of their earnings on the goods and services generated by the investments. It was a perfect circle of benefit that would require his expertise, high level connections, and his experienced staff.

As he worked on the forward projections for the government’s projects, Algernon realised that the rapidly changing nature of the local economy would need to be factored in. The population of the colony was increasing at a rate never before experienced. Melbourne was on course to treble the size of its population in two years. As an immediate result, a wide range of a serious and urgent ramifications became apparent: the current stock of affordable rental housing was both insufficient and inadequate; the roads, both local and arterial, were substandard and would hinder economic development; there was no reliable supply of potable water as witnessed by the frequent outbreaks of cholera and dysentery from the constant use of the water from the Yarra River; and there was no reliable supply of energy for cooking,heating, washing as any advanced civilisation expected. On the positive side, however, economic activity was starting to generate an increase in taxation income for the colony, despite the non-compliant diggers at Eureka. Responsible, semi-elected, self government was introduced in 1855 and even transportation was winding down. Algernon’s numbers, once all these variables were factored in, indicated that the projects he had been asked to evaluate were not only viable, but necessary. Indeed, it pointed to not only a need for more investment in public works, but a far greater contribution by the private sector; a factor, though essential, could not be controlled by Government. He wrote as much in his presentation of recommendations to the Legislative Council.

6. RESIGNATION

One morning, as the tea break drew near, Algernon heard a familiar tapping sound on his office door.

“Come in Maureen. What can I do for you?” Their relationship, although close was still professional and proper.

“Sir,” she began with a touch of hesitation, “I have a favour to ask of you. It is of a personal nature. I know we keep our working lives separate from everything else but I did not know who else I could ask.”

“Madam, I owe you more than one favour after all you have done. Please, be seated and feel free.” She took the chair nearest to the desk and launched into her story.

“I thank you for everything you have done for us all. It was beyond our wildest dreams that we could find a place that would reward us for our labours.”

“I needed a dedicated workforce that I could trust. You provided that and you had the courage to apply for the position. So tell me. What troubles you?”

“Well, my friend’s husband, Douglas, who knows that I work here, has made me a business proposition which I would like you to look at and perhaps advise as to the best course. If you have the time.”

“Tell me more. I’m all ears” He put his current work to one side and readied himself for some note-taking. Pen poised, he nodded for her to commence.

“Douglas is a very skilled tradesman and he has suggested that we set up a new business plying the Murray River with a paddle steamer. At the moment, the only competition comes out of South Australia and is funded by their government. He thinks a location nearer to Melbourne, at a small place called Echuca, would attract significant custom.” She spoke carefully, trying to ensure that she didn’t say any more than she knew.

“And what is the actual purpose of these paddle steamers?”

“They would bring wool, wood and other agricultural produce from further up the river system – from loading points in New South Wales, Queensland and Victoria – load barges which would be towed behind the steamer and unloaded at Echuca. From there the cargo could be transported to Melbourne and sold. The same transport could load up with supplies from Melbourne, taken to Echuca, loaded onto the barge and taken to the inland settlements for sale. There are also passenger facilities on board the steamer.” While she spoke, Algernon wrote, nodding with interest and approval as she explained the details of the business being proposed.

“It sounds interesting. What do you have in the way of paperwork for me to consider?” She rose from her seat, left the room and returned a short time later carrying a bundle of files that she had prepared in the normal way. She handed them to her employer.

“It’s all in here.” She stated.

“Excellent. Then I will take the greatest pleasure in looking at it for you and providing you with my observations and recommendations.”

“I am most grateful, sir.”

After the Eureka fracas on the goldfields, an event that barely raised an eyebrow in the Melbourne business community, Algernon’s business expanded. It was so rapid that he was compelled to take out a lease on the whole second floor of the East Melbourne building in addition to the ground floor, He had attracted several successful miners who were looking to invest in a wide range of opportunities and interests. The direction of the business became set for the next thirty years. Colonial politics took a back seat as he concentrated on his roles as Comptroller for the parliament and manager of a burgeoning business that was becoming the company of choice for many of Melbourne’s more successful entrepreneurs.

The constitution, long debated, became law in November 1855 signifying its maturation into a formal legal entity that could control its own destiny, subject to the agreement of the distant British Colonial Office and parliament. Celebrations were muted, almost perfunctory for there were many challenges facing the colony.

One major step he did take, and purely to expand his range of contacts, was when he accepted the invitation, put to him by Alexander Gibb, to be nominated for membership of the recently formed Melbourne Chamber of Commerce. Gibb was a pastoralist and merchant of some repute and a driving force of the Chamber. The nomination was accepted at the very next meeting and Algernon was admitted with acclaim by the assembled membership. It was as if he had been allowed in to something clandestine. He would need his powers of Comptroller even more, he felt, as his business network blossomed. The knowledge and expertise of this collection of new colonialists would provide his clients with an invaluable range of new and different ideas for the development of their various interests. At the conclusion of the meeting, the President,. Mr. Andrew Cruikshank, introduced himself.

“Mr. Lambert, I am delighted to meet you and extend a welcome to the beating heart of Victoria’s business community.”

“You’re too kind, sir. I have always been somewhat reticent in joining associations and the like as I fiercely guard my neutrality. My recent appointment by the Legislative Council, has, however, rendered that caution unnecessary as it is a formal requirement of the position to be totally objective in every respect.” Lambert had delineated his standing.

“Quite so, and you, sir, are the perfect choice. Rest assured you will receive full co-operation from all members of this Chamber. You have my absolute personal guarantee on that.”

“Thank you and I will need to draw on that commitment straight away.”

“Oh? How so?”

“The Council has instructed me to assess the viabilities of a range of projects they wish to have constructed.”

“So how can I assist?”

“I will need to compile forward estimates for the supply of raw materials, building materials, a skilled workforce and ongoing finance. I have made a start but I need as much detail as I can gather.”

“What period of time are we discussing?”

“The next five to seven years.”

“I will draw up a list of those I think you should consult and cause to have my thoughts delivered to your offices.”

“I would be most grateful. Who, in you opinion, would be the most expert in banking and finance?”

“There we face a problem. We depend on banks based in either New South Wales or Van Dieman’s Land or as a last resort London. There is no local source. It is an issue that the Chamber is lobbying all and sundry to redress.”

Lambert nodded. “I thought as much. It must make the raising of capital and accessing lines of credit an obstacle.”

“That’s an understatement!” the burly Scotsman chortled, “Victoria is set to become a powerhouse of development and progress but we have one hand tied behind our backs. If you have any suggestions, I am listening.”

“Why not establish a commercial bank based here?”

“We would need approval from Threadneedle Street.”

“Like the Bank of New South Wales you mean?”

“In what way?”

“It’s quite straightforward. That bank has never received approval from the Bank of England to operate as a bank. In short, it is, and has been from day of opening, an illegal enterprise.”

“Really? I did not know that. Typical Sydney. Most things they do are either illegal or unethical.”

“Which is precisely why we need a legal bank based in Melbourne that we can trust.”

“And how do we bring that about? Neither the government nor the city could possibly have access to the necessary resources,”

“Then it must be privately owned.”

The next morning, Algernon stood at his office door, caught Maureen’s eye and beckoned her to join him. She rose from her desk, entered the office and sat on the chair he indicated.

“Sir?” She asked with some trepidation.

“Maureen, or should I say Mrs. Murphy – for the purpose of this conversation, I will address you as I would any prospective client rather than your employer. Is that acceptable to you?”

“I would prefer you use the surname Kelly which is my birth name. The other name has unpleasant reminders.”

“As you wish, Mrs Kelly.”

“So what is it you wish to discuss Mr. Lambert?”

“The paddle steamer proposal.”

“You have reached some conclusions?”

“I have. Based on the information you have provided, I have made some forward projections.”

“And?”

“Well. I am impressed with the caution these numbers assume. You are basing your projections on just one steamer towing two barges. Correct?”

“Yes. We would like to add to this but it would have to be paid for by the volume of trade, and the profit, that the first steamer could generate.”

“Yes. I see that. It is a good way to start but some optimism would not go astray. However,we will come to that. At the moment, only two paddle steamers are in operation and both emanate from South Australia?

“That is correct.”

“Do you know who their owners are?”

“Of course. A Mr. William Russel, and a Mr. Francis Cadell. If we, in Victoria, do not act, we will lose a lucrative trade to a rival colony.”

“So their operations are profitable?”

“As far as I can ascertain, yes.

“So what is this lucrative trade?”

“Wool mainly and to a lesser extent, redgum for building with supplies from the city going the other way. Oh, and passengers.”

“And you propose to establish your base in – where? Oh yes, a place nobody has ever heard of.”

“Echuca. It is on the closest point that the Murray comes to Melbourne. There is hardly anybody there at the moment, a hundred souls or so, but it is in a perfect position to exploit this commerce.”

“So land would be cheap?”

“There is no farming. Some cattle only.”

“Good. Well. Here is my conclusion. You will need to link up with transportation companies, which can be done under contract, and you will need a sales outlet for the produce which, of course as you know, we can provide and guarantee the producers an export market. Should you find the need to raise capital, those facilities are readily available. Therefore, I find that this proposal of yours is eminently sensible, well thought out and well planned. It has every chance of being successful and I am more than happy to encourage you in this endeavour. and offer you, and your partner,any ongoing assistance you may find the need for.”

“I will pass your most helpful suggestions on to Donald. He will be running that side of the business, at least at first. I haven’t even been to Echuca yet but he has already located an empty building that we can use while we get established.”

“How much capital do you have on hand and how much do you anticipate you will need.”

“I haven’t finalised those amounts yet. I have more work to do on all the costings. Building our first steamer will not be cheap along with a shed and a quay. We are sure we have enough to achieve our first trip upstream with two barges but the river at times can be hazardous. Apparently, the snags can puncture a hull in no time. We don’t want that to happen on our first trip! I want to be able to confirm a budget for our fist five trips.”

“A most worthwhile goal. To summarise: you will not proceed unless,and until, you have enough finance to build one steamer, two barges, five shipments and an equipped home base?”

“Yes. That is the plan.”

Algernon rose, offered his hand and beamed. “Then let us put this very sensible idea into action. This has promise for Melbourne to be able to extend its mercantile links with a much larger area and provide extensive export markets for the producers.” He felt proud of, and for, his protege. “The main risk to your enterprise has to be the river itself.”

“Donald is well aware of that.”

“On a technical level I have no doubt but it is you who would have to deal with both logistics and any additional and unexpected costs. I suggest you should look at a back-up, or fall-back, facility.”

“A nest-egg you mean?”

“That’s one way of putting it. I would prefer to regard it as a reserve.”

“How much would you suggest?”

“That’s easy to calculate: the cost of salvage if possible or a replacement steamer, two barges and the lost cargo.”

“You have something in mind?”

“That I do. I will look into the possibility of some form of risk insurance, structured around some form of investment vehicle. Leave it to me. One more thing.”

“Oh?”

“How am I ever going to replace you?”

Over the following five or so years, Algernon watched as everything around him grew: the city, the colony, the government, the economy, his business and, more importantly, his son. Apart from Eustace, who was becoming cheekier and more disobedient by the day, Everything that Algernon was responsible for took a steady and planned course. Very little of the outside world had any negative impact under his guidance. Even the arrival of the monobrachius Peter Lalor, once leader of the Eureka stockade rebels, to take up his seat in the Legislative Council barely raised a ripple of interest. Of more importance was the spread of the supply of gas piping which, by mid decade, brought reliable cooking, heating, lighting to the expanding city. Industry also became more widespread and unemployment rates tumbled. The very first steam railway was constructed, initially between the Melbourne terminus and Sandridge but extended shortly thereafter to as far away as Geelong. Also installed was a telegraph system allowing messages to be sent to and from the docks at Williamstown. As the civic buildings of the University and the Town Hall neared their imposing conclusions, they were joined by a significant non-government project.

At the time these projects were commenced there had been an acute shortage of skilled labour and there were times when continuity of construction could not be guaranteed. It was the stonemasons who found the solution. Using their advantage and taking their inspiration from the Ballarat ‘diggers’ and the British Chartists, they downed tools at the university site and marched to where Parliament convened. On the way, workers from other building sites joined them and together they presented their demands for a regulated forty hour working week. The eight hour day was born and the available work was shared around. They and their associates celebrated on 12 May 1856 by holding a march, replete with large banners held proudly aloft. Nineteen different trades joined together and they decided to erect a monument to recognise the achievement although only a pedestal could be afforded at first. In addition, they paid for and built Trades Hall, a gift from workers to workers, which was opened in 1859. By the time the decade ended, Melbourne had become a fast developing city with modern technology, new buildings and a brand new game of football.

One morning in the spring of 1856, Algernon put on his comptroller hat and left his office. He did not often assume the authority of office but on this day, he had something in mind, something that had been gnawing away at him ever since he had been asked to assess the viability of the various government projects. He had given them all a green light but he had a residue of concern concerning funding. He needed a well-funded bank he could rely on, something that Victoria could not provide. The only banks that operated in Melbourne were branches of either British origin and ownership or based in Tasmania or New South Wales. Algernon wanted an establishment he could trust, one that was not answerable to final decision makers located outside the Colony. He would have to probe and, more importantly, not be concerned if certain vested interests were offended. With loins girded, he set out and prepared for battle.

The first port of call was the Treasury. After introducing himself and presenting his warrant, he was ushered into the inner sanctum of the office of the General Manager.

“Mr. Comptroller. So good to meet you. Please.” He gestured to a leather upholstered seat. “What is on your mind?”

“Banking.”

“That is a rather broad subject. Anything in particular?”

“What would you say is the best way to guarantee ongoing project funding for Victoria so that the Government can plan with certainty?”

“Ah.” He stroked his abundant mustache. “Well, the Government can issue securities, bonds, and offer them to the banks, obviously.”

Obviously, but which one?”

“There is only one and I am sure you are well aware of that.”

“Indeed which is my purpose of coming to see you. I am not going to allow a bank, located elsewhere and which may, or may not, be a legal entity, to control our finances. That gives them far too much power. Separation was not just for government and administration.”

“So what do you see as your options?”

“Well, we could go one of two ways. Either we deal directly with London or,” he hesitated,

“Or what?”

“Someone sets up a new bank based here in Melbourne.”

“Someone? Do you have anyone in mind.”

“What is the total market value of your holdings?” Algernon was almost mischevious.

“Whoa! Slow down. Are you suggesting that we establish a Government Bank, leveraging against what the Treasury holds?”

“Am I? Perhaps but it could be a good way to bankrupt the Colony. I don’t think anyone would take that sort of risk.”

“Then what?”

“Offer a government guaranteed line of credit to an independent, commercial venture funded privately and run by a consortium.”

“You know of one?”

“Perhaps. I am exploring the possibilities. I do not want Victoria’s finances influenced in any way by those in Sydney, many of who I regard as untrustworthy.”

“That I concur with. You will receive whatever assistance I am able to provide.

“I thank you.”

One evening when Algernon came home, he was carrying a box which, when he set it down on the floor, began to move. He invited his curious son to open at and when he did, the head of a bewildered puppy appeared and looked around. Eustace eyes lit up and he gently grasped the dog and held him close to his chest, stroked his coat and nuzzled his head. After a short time, licking started.

Mrs. Lambert was not at all impressed. “So where does it eat, sleep and foul? Am I expected to do all that?”

By this time, Eustace had firmly bonded with the young animal.

“We’ll need a name,” Algernon observed. “Any ideas?”

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Asked Eustace.

“A boy,” his father answered.

“Then he must have a very important name.”

“Important? Albert? Charles?”

“Who are they?”

“Never mind. Think of a good name.”

“I will call him ‘Lord’ after my favourite poet.”

“Lord? Who?”

“Lord Byron, of course.”

Algie laughed. “Lord it is then.”

To Geelong

The following winter, on the 25th July 1857, a gala occasion was scheduled and the Lambert family was invited. When the day arrived, they rose early, tended to Lord before making him secure, dressed in their finest and hailed a carriage to take them to where the Haines’ were lodging. From there, they took the short trip to the jetty where they boarded a small steamer, the ‘Citizen’, which took them, and their fellow invitees, to Greenwich Station in Newport. There, they joined the larger congregation, found a spot on the platform,and settled down to wait. Mrs. Haines had packed a large wicker hamper for the trip which the two men had lugged from the ship between them, one at each end. They set it down, and Eustace immediately decided it would make a perfect seat so he promptly assumed the appropriate position. The Citizen continued to deposit passengers on the quay near the station and by late morning, around five to six hundred of Melbourne’s finest and most influential citizens had created a jostling mob on the platform. As the time neared noon, a thin column of white smoke was spotted in the distance and excited, animated agitation stirred those assembled.

“At last!” Was heard.

“There it is,” another said, and groups began to draw closer together, gathering up their belongings in anticipation.

The very first Geelong to Melbourne train drew into the station. And was welcomed by cheering, applause and hat throwing. Unfortunately for the Melbourne dignitaries, their celebrations quickly turned as, collectively, they came to the realisation that not only was the train full of Geelongians, but they had absolutely no intention of vacating the two carriages. Clearly, a second train would be required to transport the Melburnians. Haines and Lambert looked at each other, exchanged knowing glances of mutual disapproval, but neither felt motivated to express their condemnation of those responsible for organising this disaster. That could wait, so the two men rejoined their frustrated family and waited a further two hours until, finally, an empty train arrived, the carriages being pulled by a No. 36 Oberon locomotive. Boarding was methodical and quite civilised and at 2.05 PM the very first Melbourne to Geelong train pulled out of the station. Eustace, of course, secured a seat adjacent to a window and, once they has all settled, his Grandmother opened the hamper.

(to be continued)

Melbourne sees the light

Algernon was in a hurry. The hour was late and the twilight was fast receding, making the walk home even more treacherous. Traps and pitfalls awaited the careless promenator and all too often, pratfalls occurred with injuries which ranged from the mere muddying of clothes and injured pride, to the more serious breaking of ankles, legs and sometimes even worse. Then there were the dangers posited by by the many undesirables whose presence and intentions were masked by the absence of any worthwhile illumination, save for some weak oil lamps hanging outside the theatres, hostelries and some late opening retailers. Being a reasonably fit and strong middle-aged man, Algernon regraded the gulleys, ditches, ruts and potholes and the far greater danger, and was always genuinely relieved to arrive back home each day unscathed. On this day in August 1857, all this was about to become but an unpleasant memory for another of the projects that he had approved as comptroller, the lighting of Melbourne by four hundred and fourteen gas lamps, was about to take place. The lights themselves were high off the ground, reachable only with the aid of a ladder that the lamplighters carried on their shoulders. The pole supporting the beacon was made of metal, manufactured by local foundries, with the gas carried up under pressure through the hollow centre. Just below the glass shield was a crossbar to support the ladder ensuring safety for the lighter as he ignited the gas jet. The phrase ‘a light is as good as a policeman’ quickly entered common parlance and more and more people ventured into the streets at night. The system, though welcomed, was not without its problems, however. A strong wind, not uncommon in Melbourne, would keep this new breed of worker gainfully employed in relighting flames that had been blown out. The gas flow itself was subject to intermittent fluctuations in pressure and street urchins thought it most entertaining to put out the light using one nefarious method or another, and on nights of the full moon and a clear sky, were not used at all.

Overall, however, the lighting, which was gradually extended street by street, created a genuine, safe night life for the first time; something that the shopkeepers and entertainers relished. On the warmer summer nights, the city came alive, stimulating a new source of economic activity which had hitherto been restricted to daylight hours only. The income,and taxation, generated by this growth, more than covered the initial costs of supplying the facility and encouraged the city fathers into more and more modernisation. Investment in public works and infrastructure became seen as a genuine investment and an important role of government, and it was not long before the private realised the potential for their own enterprises and found many ways to benefit from this new era of optimism. The first decade of genuine development, stimulated initially by the goldfields and the pastoralists, quickly transformed Victoria into a varied and expanding economy. Emboldened, more was planned.

To bank or Not to Bank

“Mr. Lambert,” the messenger boy, puffed from his exertions, called from outside the now larger establishment that was Lambert’s. Algernon heard the call and came out on the the balcony of his second floor office to investigate.

“Yes?” He called back.

“A message for you, sir. I have been instructed to inform you that it is urgent.”

“I’ll be right down.”

A short time later, Algernon appeared at the front door, handed over the delivery fee with a small gratuity, and opened the wax sealed letter he was handed.

“Thank you sir, “ said the boy as he pocketed the cash and ran back to his depot. As he skedaddled, Algernon read the note, then read it again. It was one of the most unusual requests he had ever received, but his curiosity had been aroused so he locked up as he was the only one at work on this Saturday morning, and headed for Collins Street. It was a good twenty minutes brisk walk away and when he arrived outside the designated building, a crowd of up to twenty was already congregating on the footpath. He noticed a few faces that were familiar as members of the Chamber of Commerce so he assessed that this was not likely to be an unruly mob. After chatting to a couple of fellow members, he was able to piece together what was afoot and although it was a serious matter, and doubtless heading for an adjudication by the Supreme Court, he nevertheless saw the funny side.

“Lambert,” came a voice from behind, “you got my note, I see. Thank you for coming. We are going to need some respected disassociated observers before this day is done.” Algernon turned and identified a man by the name of Alexander Gibb. Although he could not recall any conversation they may have had, he was fully aware of the various roles Gibb had played in regard to banking.

“Mr. Gibb. So good to see you and thank you for the invitation. Pray, enlighten me with the goings on.”

“I will need to be brief, given what may shortly unfold up there.” He pointed to a window which was part of a two storey building located on the corner of Collins and Queen Streets at the western end of the city.

“So what is going on in there? Lambert asked. There were no external signs that advertised the occupants of the rooms, nor their professions.

“There is a board meeting being held as we stand here. Most of these people waiting here are shareholders of the new company and are very concerned about the fate of their not unsubstantial investments.”

“Why? What’s the problem?”

“The board of six is split three to three and are unable to agree on anything. What makes it pressing is that the business is due to commence operations very soon.”

“So what is the nature of this business?”

Why, sir, something close to your heart. It is a new bank that I, and the current chairman, Mr. Andrew Cruickshank, have initiated and for which we have raised the starting capital.”

“A bank? Does it have a name? Yes. The National Bank of Australasia”

“That has a familiar ring to it. The Colonial Bank of Australasia; any link?”

“Only me.”

“You? How so?”

“I started both of them but was not appointed to either board by the shareholders.”

“Why ever not?”

“I am a farmer. I have no experience of banking. I am, at present, the Acting Secretary of this new bank but it’s not a permanent arrangement.”

“So what is so special about today?”

Gibb explained that the gathered shareholders wanted to get rid of the current board and the general manager they appointed and elect a whole new team. They were, he revealed, about to stage a coup and were merely waiting for a signal. They did not have long to wait. As if on cue, a man’s head, recognisable as belonging to Thomas Lampriere, suddenly appeared at an open window on the second floor shouted:

“Gentlemen, come up and protect your property.”

The crowd below rushed into the building. Algernon hung back, not wanting to become embroiled in something that was clearly none of his business. By this time, the nearby constabulary, such as it was, had been informed of this disturbance and arrived on the scene. It was only later, after the whole matter had been resolved in court, was he made fully cognisant of the details but, by then, he had his bank.

Connections

In July the following year, Melbourne took another massive step forward. The American inventor and entrepreneur, Samuel Morse, had decided that his telegraph system which had been instrumental in opening up the ‘wild west’, would also be appropriate for the continent of Australia. As a result, in 1853, he packed off one of his most trusted engineers by the name of Samuel Walter McGowan to Melbourne where he was greeted with open arms by the young government and the business community. He took with him a substantial amount of equipment which he demonstrated to an invited group, one of whom was Algernon. All were so impressed with what they saw that they made an almost instant decision to press ahead with this new technology.

They decided to start with a short distance, but useful, connection that would link the Melbourne harbourmaster with the docks at Williamstown, a distance of about six miles. This would serve two purposes: to test the efficacy of the new telegraph and to transmit information regarding the shipping that was arriving and departing.

Their first task was to determine the route that the wires would follow. Surveyors were employed and once they were satisfied, long wooden poles were ordered from local lumber yards and their locations for installation marked, both on the ground and on the plan. Everything was double and triple checked before any earth was disturbed; nothing was left to chance. Next to be ordered was sufficient wiring for one line to span the distance. What was remarkable was that although most of the technological hardware had to be brought in by ship from the United States, the first telegraph line in the colonies was made operational in March 1854, less than a year after McGowan had first set foot in Victoria. The installation and operation, used the code developed by Morse and named after him. More lines were planned and installed, the next being to Geelong that December with the very first message being the first news of the Eureka Stockade. The following year saw Queenscliffe, Sandridge, Ballarat and Sandhurst added to the quickly expanding network. By 1859, lines to Sydney and Adelaide had been installed, thereby linking the three major centres of commerce together enabling each to inform the other of arrivals and departures of shipping with details of cargo and passengers.

All these, and other, advances were adopted quickly and as a result, economic growth in the colonies over the next two decades was stimulated to such an extent that Melbourne was transformed from a nascent settlement into the second largest city in the British Empire.

7. Boom 1860-1880

Eustace was a growing almost as quickly as Melbourne and on a sunny, but cool Thursday afternoon in August, 1860, his parents took the nine year old to Royal Park in Parkville. Large numbers of people, upwards of fifteen thousand according to the newspapers, milled around as they waited for the nineteen men, twenty three horses, twenty six camels and six huge wagons to complete their preparations. As the sign strung between two tall trees announced: this was the starting point of the Great Expedition to the Gulf of Carpenteria known as the Burke and Wills exploration with the aim to establish a north-south route for a telegraph which could link Victoria to the world. It was fully funded by the wealth of Melbourne in an attempt to beat the other colonies to having the first reliable means of communication with the outside world. The estimated gains for business far outweighed the risk and the cost of this venture. To a nine year old, however, it was an adventure.

“Don’t get too close ’Stace,” his mother cautioned as they neared the camels.

“Why not, mama?”

“They don’t look too friendly to me, that’s why not.”

“Have no fear ma’am.” An Indian man called a ‘sepoy’ by some, had overheard the exchange. “They are very gentle creatures, these dromedaries.” He bent down to Eustace and asked, “would you like to sit on him?”

Eustaces’ eyes lit up and he used their persuasive powers to gain his mother’s consent. The sepoy, camel in tow, spoke a few words and the beast sat gently on the ground, front legs first. It let out a wail as it settled but then, once down, looked quite relaxed. The sepoy, wearing quite flamboyant clothes, beckoned the boy over and in one swift movement lifted him up and placed him squarely in the saddle. The huge animal slowly rose, lifting Eustace high in the air – the highest he had ever been. The crowd nearby, who had watched the whole procedure, broke out into a spontaneous round of applause and the rider responded by waving one hand, keeping the other firmly on the reins. Led by the handler, the camel walked slowly around the clearing a few times then, in front of the Lamberts, slowly sank to the ground. Eustace was lifted off, unharmed, and returned to their protection. His father walked forward, offered his hand to the handler and pressed a coin into his hand. Both men, as equals, nodded in recognition of their transaction. Eustace, of course, highly excited, couldn’t stop talking about his wondrous experience.

“I was so high off the ground,” and “it felt funny, not the least bit like a horse,” and “can I have my own one?” And “that was fun.”

At around four in the afternoon, men wearing scarlet jumpers, flannel trousers and green Garibaldi hats, began barking orders and shortly thereafter, horses, waggons and camels moved into line and headed out of the park. The Burke and Wills expedition to cross the continent from south to north for the first time, had begun. Eustace would never forget this day.

Reading the newspaper reports became an obsession of the whole population. Maps were stuck on to walls the the route taken, tracked with pins and strips of coloured ribbon. Every house had a person in charge of keeping the map up to date. In the Lambert household, that task fell, of course, to ‘camel boy’ Eustace. The experience bonded families, neighbourhoods, communities and the whole city. Melbourne and Victoria discovered, or created, a common identity.

Hard at work one morning, Algernon was disturbed by three gentlemen who entered his office unannounced. One was his father-in-law, the ex-Premier, William Haines, who, after his election defeat, had travelled to both the USA and Europe for three years. In his absence, his reputation as a steadying influence on government finances had grown and on his return, he won belection to the Legislative Assembly and was immediately appointed Treasurer of the new government headed by William Nicholson. Victoria had entered an economic slowdown as the gold rush petered out, and government finances were becoming strained. Planned public works were either postponed or scrapped as ongoing funding could not be guaranteed. Even Algernon, who had spent much of the previous decade building up his business, was feeling the pinch and was having to economise on his outgoings. It was clear that Haines was standing in his office, as Treasurer, not as family. He introduced his two companions as Mr. David Syme,who had recently inherited The Age newspaper as a result of the untimely demise of his brother, Ebenezer, and Mr. George Higinbotham, and aspiring politician who had already made his name as both a lawyer and contributor to the pages of The Argus, the rival to The Age, until a conflict with the editor, Edward Wilson, forced his resignation. His political allies saw him as a rising star, a ‘radical’ with scrupulous principles and integrity and a potential Attorney-General. Algernon accepted their formal greetings then asked

“So why has the Treasurer brought two journalists to meet me?”

“Don’t be mischievous, young Algie. A proprietor and a respected lawyer are not to be dismissed as ’mere journalists.” The father-in-law emerged for a moment.

“I stand corrected. My apologies, gentlemen, but I am still mystified as to the purpose of your visit.”

“We stand, or rather, sit, before you,” Higinbotham smiled as he began to explain, “to both advise you of our intentions, and consult with you as to their execution.”

“In relation to what?”

“The immediate future of this city and the colony.” Syme followed Higinbotham’s lead.

“Go on”

“We have agreed on what aspects of society need to be addressed and amended.” Higinbotham began to provide the detail. “The list is long and the work will be onerous. Land reform is top of the list as are the urgent need to impose customs duties on imported goods when they can be produced locally. Our nascent industries need to be protected to provide them with the time to raise capital,employ and train a workforce,and bring their products to market. If goods come in from overseas and are sold at prices lower than we are able to do, we will struggle to find employment for large numbers of able-bodied men. With properly targeted tariffs, we can take the pressure off the manufacturing businesses and be flexible enough to better structure the nature of our population. In short, the political relationship between the Legislative Assembly, The Legislative Council, the Governor, and the Colonial Office needs to be re-defined. It served its purpose in establishing the colony but is no longer appropriate as we move to the next stage of our development. Simply, the system is too pedestrian and inefficient.”

Syme continued “To be blunt, Mr. Lambert, Victoria is running out of money and avenues of borrowing are being restricted. Public opinion is becoming more and more important and it is demanding changes be made. You, and your, adventurous contemporaries are owed a massive debt of gratitude for what you have achieved both before and after separation and this must not be wasted.” He sat back in his seat for both affect and to stimulate a reaction. Algernon was taken aback.

“This is beginning to sound like a more sophisticated version of the Eureka Rebellion,” he observed. “Who, or what, is your perceived enemy?”

“It’s good that you use that word,” Syme responded, “for that is what we face: an enemy, and I have every intention of defeating them in such a comprehensive way that they can never return.”

Algernon listened intently. “I think I know to whom you refer: those who populate the assembly, many of whom are unelected, and are oft referred to as the ‘Squattocracy’. Am I correct?”

Syme answered. “They are the outward manifestation, but they are just the foot soldiers, the ones in the front line. They can, and probably will, be dispensed with. We will need to break through to the core. You don’t kill a wild beast by cutting off an inch of its tail.”

“The core?” Journalists had a tendency towards flowery rhetoric.

“First Sydney, then London.”

“I see. So in your view, who should determining our affairs? Who would have the ultimate responsibility?

“We have to establish the legal framework,” Higinbotham interposed, “so that all decisions that affect this colony are made by the elected government of this colony, not by the corrupt Sydneysiders, nor the slow and unwieldy, self-obsessed and equally corrupt Government in London that wants to enjoy the glory of Empire without the expense and inconvenience. Our constitution was a good start but it must now be made to work properly appropriate to our new circumstances.”

“Then, sir, if that is your intent, there is much that would need to be attended to.”

“Indeed Mr. Lambert, indeed. We came here to ascertain your position.”

“I will discuss this in my role of comptroller with the Treasurer and my decision will be based purely on how I perceive your proposals will likely impact my main concern, which is the ongoing prosperity of my business. That is the side I have always been on and nothing I have experienced has for a moment caused me to waver from this resolve.”

“Algernon,” Haines said. “We have taken up enough ofyour time. We thank you and I look forward to our next official meeting.”

A month or so later, Algernon was enjoying a post lunch nap in his favourite chair on his front veranda when he was disturbed by a discreet cough. He opened his eyes.

“I’m so sorry to disturb you, sir, but my time is limited and I need to discuss a most important topic with you, if you can spare the time,” Algernon half-recognised him but could not attach a name.

“Do I know you sir?” He asked the tall, thin, bespectacled younger man.

“We have indeed met, but I doubt you would remember. I am from Sydney and must be on the packet steamer tonight. My name is Laurence Thompson. I am an accountant of some repute in New South Wales.” Algernon rose and shook the man’s proffered hand.

“So how can I help you, sir?”

“May I sit?”

“Of course. Would you prefer we discuss this inside?”

“That is not necessary and I am enjoying the spring sunshine. It makes a pleasant change from Melbourne’s normal inclemency.”

“Now now, that’s a low blow.” They laughed.

“The reason I am here is at the behest of a group of accounting professionals who have been discussing the possibilities of forming an association that will establish standards and codes of behaviour for the whole industry. We envisage an educational institution that would issue certification signifying that certain standards have been attained by the bearer.”

“An interesting idea and perhaps overdue but how does that concern me, a humble bookkeeper?”

“You are too self-effacing, sir. You are held in the highest of regard throughout the colonies for what you have achieved here in Victoria. We would aim to be in a position to both teach and regulate the highest possible standards across the whole continent an New Zealand.”

“An ambitious aim, considering the intrinsic nature of those who follow our calling.,” observed Algernon.

Thompson nodded than added “we do not anticipate instantaneous results but would it not be advantageous to educate and train the next generation to the highest possible standards?”

“Indeed it would and I think immediately of my young son who is now ten years old. I want him, to have a future based on a solid foundation in the principles and practices of our profession. I endorse you proposal and will do what I can to assist you. It is worthy and necessary.”

“And now I must go to my ship.”

“We shall stay in touch, Mr. Thompson.”

“We shall, Mr. Lambert. We shall.”

As he watched his unexpected caller depart, Algernon felt somewhat uplifted in spirit by this discussion and began to toss some ideas around in his head. He began to envision the challenges: establishing minimum standards to be able to call oneself an ‘accountant’; setting up the legal framework to support such a position; accrediting those who would assume the role of educators and assessors; setting up a new faculty at the university. His mind ran free as the future took on a whole new meaning.