Avoca River in flood 1870

One of a number of pictures in reports of floods across Victoria in September 1870.

Illustrated Australian News for Home Readers (Melbourne, Vic. : 1867 – 1875), Monday 10 October 1870, page 176-180

THE FLOODS IN VICTORIA.

Once more Victoria has been visited by very severe floods, and every part of the country has suffered more or less. In fact, since 1859, there has been no such destructive flood in the country districts as that which occurred on the 9th September. Almost the whole distance from Sandhurst to Echuca, about sixty miles, was laid under water, and of course a great deal of damage was done to property. In the Ballarat and Geelong districts there was also great loss. We present a series of illustrations, of which the first two are sketches taken at the Murray, where the extensive plains on either side of the river were suddenly converted into a vast lake. Another view represents the bridge near Rochester on the Echuca railway. Traffic on this line was arrested for a day or two, and it was feared at the time of the flood that a much longer stoppage would be necessitated. Embankments and culverts went before the torrent, and in one place the rails were left, with their sleepers, suspended high in mid air for a considerable distance, the earth work from beneath them having been washed clean away. Then follows a view taken at Sandhurst from the top of Bridge-street, overlooking the Pall Mall and Camp Reserve. Both these places, it will be observed, are under water; and an idea of the unpleasant depth to which everything was submerged is afforded by the horse and cart which appear splashing through the waters in the fore-ground. A portion of the town was transferred for the nonce into an antipodean Venice, and boats might have plied along the main street. Our artist, who was despatched to Echuca on the day of the flood, for the purpose of sketching some of the scenes of devastation, thus vividly records his impressions during the journey:—”I left Melbourne with the River Yarra at flood height, and though subsiding, Flinders-street was submerged at the end of William-street. I expected, therefore, to see something of the traces of the fearful storm which had devastated the country, and I did indeed; for hardly had I been seated in the train than the whole area between Spencer-street and the Saltwater River spread out before me as one vast sea, and as we neared Footscray no traces of the river could be seen but half buried houses, black chimneys rising isolated out of the water, and the bridge with hardly the shape of the arch visible. Further on to the right the bridge at the racecourse had floated away, and was leaning half over against some cottages, of which the roofs only could be seen. The line as we went on had evidently been repaired, and workmen were engaged in gangs still busily occupied. One of the superintendents of these gangs came into the carriage, and described the scene on the preceding day most graphically. On the Keilor Plains, he said, the rain came down in a positive sheet of water, unlike anything he ever saw before, and as the wind was blowing hard as well it was impossible to face it. In a few minutes the line was covered to the depth of 34 feet, caused entirely by the downpour. So terrible and overpowering was the effect that the workmen stood awe struck. One of his men, a Scotchman, he accosted with, “Well, Sandy, what do you think of this?” ”Eh, man,” he exclaimed, “surely the end o’ the world has come at last.” The rain disappeared nearly as fast as it came, but left the embankments in a great many places a complete wreck. The ballast had been torn from under the sleepers for twenty or thirty yards at very short distances, and these spaces had been expeditiously filled up with extra sleepers. As we sped along, I marked with some interest the various water channels showing evident signs of being overcharged; large masses of the banks had fallen, trees lying with their roots in the air, fences twisted in all directions, with huge gaps here and there, with the posts and rails scattered far and wide; houses on the banks with doors and windows torn out, or the entire end gone; gardens covered with sludge, and hardly a human being to be seen except at the stations. Hearing so much of the dangerous state of the Malmsbury reservoir, I was anxious to see for myself, but was agreeably surprised to find it, though full up to the brim, to all appearance as sound and firm as could be wished. Nothing but a strong stream careering through the by-wash could be noticed from the train as we approached Castlemaine, and during the few minutes we remained there I could see that a vast mass of water had been playing havoc along the Barker’s and Campbell’s Creeks, but little could be seen from the railway. As we came nearer Sandhurst the evils showed themselves more clearly; at Kangaroo-flat, and over the whole ground between that and the town, ruin seemed prevalent everywhere. Nearly every hut near the course of the creek seemed deserted and ruinous. What a nearer inspection would tell I do not know; but the glance we had as we sped past was significant enough. Sandhurst appeared to have had the main brunt of the evil to bear, for the torrent, treating the various bridges and culverts as so many play-things, either leaped over them or carried them clean away. The Mall was soon flooded, and the reserve one complete lake, caring nothing for the feeble efforts of the mayor and all his assistants. The rush of water tore down the wooden structure at Bridge-street, cut away the banks on either side, and made sport of the various little bridges, garden fences, and cottages on its road to Huntly, where mischief enough was carried out, as the various descriptions in the papers can well testify. On inquiry at the stationmaster, I found that it was impossible to get to Echuca that night, as the railway had suffered so much from the flood that no train could go; but workmen were busy putting the line in order, and next morning at eleven o’clock I was enabled to proceed. It was perfectly evident that some considerable damage had been done on the line, by the anxiety shown by the various officers who were present on the platform, and by the appearance of Mr. Green, the engineer, who accompanied us; and we had not gone far before we saw the occasion for this anxiety. Beyond Sandhurst the country stretches out into extensive plains, through, which the Campaspe winds till it empties itself into the Murray, about half a mile below Echuca. It receives the drainage of all the high lands north of Mount Macedon, and being filled to overflowing, spread over the flat country, through which we were now passing, tearing up and destroying everything in its passage. Some short distance beyond Runnymede the first and most expressive sign of its power presented itself in the shape of a culvert over the course of a small stream. (The waters had filled the slight hollow with a raging torrent, tore away the banks on each side, leaving the rails suspended in the air with the sleepers hanging to the bolts, for the space of about twenty yards on each side. The train stopped here and could go no further. The passengers alighted and had to step from sleeper to sleeper with a chasm of some ten feet deep below. On the other side several trollies were waiting, on which the luggage,mails, &c., were placed, and we were requested to mount also. These trollies are platforms of wood, placed on four wheels, from each of which a bolt projects. Four men are stationed on the top, armed with a long pole, having a hole at one end. This hole fits into the bolt in the wheel, and with an up and down motion, like the action of a piston, we drove along for three or four miles. The action of the flood had been so violent here that the ballast on which the sleepers rested, had in many places been completely washed from the embankment outside of the fence, so that our motion was somewhat similar to that of a vessel at sea— now on the top of a wave and now in the hollow. At Rochester-bridge we again got the train, the embankments beyond having been repaired, although damaged also similarly. Here, the evidence of a terrible flood was very apparent. The water had swept completely over the bridge, which stood firm, but fences and trees bore traces of its power, and the grass was flattened down as if some heavy roller had passed over it. Beyond this the flood itself made its appearance, for the country as far as the eye could reach was little else than one entire sea. Occasionally several cows appeared half buried in water. At a cottage a goat was seen leaning against the door, immersed to the knees. But the saddest scene of all was that of several hundred sheep lying about in all directions on Captain Anderson’s farm, drowned, flocks of crows hovering over, or rising with an angry caw from the bodies, disturbed by the passing tram. We reached Echuca a little after three o’clock —considerably after the usual time, of course. I had the good fortune to fall in with a friendly reporter of the local paper, who escorted, me through the town, and showed me the points of importance. I saw the Murray for the first time, the most important river in Australia; but its appearance was not that of a river, but a vast inland lake, overflowing its banks in all directions, carrying death and destruction wherever it stretched. The houses on the New South Wales bank were buried to the eaves. The palings surrounding the gardens were just perceptible. The steamers, the tops of whose funnels hardly reached half-way to the level of the wharf, now had their decks flush with it. The river Campaspe, which makes a bend close to the town ere it enters the river lower down, has a bridge thrown across; this bridge, although generally some thirty feet above the level of the stream, now had some two feet over its roadway. Everywhere around cottages and gardens could be seen half buried; and the town hall itself, which was believed to be built on high ground, was quite surrounded; it is at the extreme end of High-street from the wharf. I saw some carts passing along the street here up to the axle in water. Most of the houses in this vicinity are half buried, and since I left I have heard that the river has risen still higher, and risen higher in the houses. By the politeness of Captain Pearce, of the Jane Eliza, steamer, I had the opportunity of going up the Murray to Balma, some thirty miles by water, though only in a straight line some fourteen miles from Echuca. Of course it was quite impossible to appreciate the scenery on the banks, for with the exception of trees and water little could be seen: it was certainly the most depressing trip I ever took. Some short distance above Echuca we came upon the border town of New South Wales, Moama—a poor place at all times, but much worse under existing circumstances, with many of the houses half buried; the custom house itself, a store-looking edifice of corrugated iron, just above the level of the water. The course of the stream could only be found by the space between the trees, and, occasionally a house or two, cottages, I should say, half buried. A place of more importance soon appeared in the shape of Shakell’s tannery, half buried of course, skins hanging about in all directions upon the fences, but not a human being visible. Some miles further on we came upon M’Intosh’s saw mills, a large and important place, piles of cut and uncut timber about, but machinery, boilers, workshops, all under water, miserable to look at. Next we saw in the same condition the buildings of the Echuca Meat Preserving Company—a large and important establishment, evidently carrying on an extensive business. I was told that this place was insured in a Marine Insurance Company against flood, and for the first time it has really suffered from one. Here we saw a tolerably-sized steamer inside the trees on the bank, alongside the building: a large barge also was close in, showing the depth of water on the bank. Beyond this as far as we went, very little could be seen; except a stray cottage here and there along the bank, the roofs only to be seen, enclosures of unfortunate free selectors with trees felled, and ground evidently in course of preparation, outhouses being built, but all completely flooded, most discouraging to parties concerned. We got at last to Balma, which was just above water. It is merely a saw-mill, with workmen’s cottages around; one foot more of water would have covered the entire ground, and I have heard since that this foot, and more, actually did rise, and the people had to be taken to Echuca, where, indeed, all the people on the banks found refuge. Our return was effected much sooner than our passage up, coming down with the stream, and though the trip was interesting to a certain extent, it created a most wretched feeling to look in every direction and see nothing but trees growing as it were out of water. Returning by the rail I could see that most energetic measures had been taken to put the railway in proper condition again, and every possible attention was shown by the officers and attendants for the convenience and safety of the passengers.”

The next view selected by our artist is near the township of Avoca. The flood here was the highest ever known to have occurred in the locality. The river ran two feet over the Avoca bridge, doing great damage, and sweeping the road away into large holes. The Bung-bong bridge was carried away, causing a stoppage of the mails coming from Castlemaine. The bridge between Lexton and Avoca was covered with water, and a large portion of the road so thoroughly damaged as to prevent the arrival of the mails from Ballarat. All the fencing round the public gardens was carried away, and most of the farmers have lost both their crops and fencing. It is estimated that many thousands of pounds will be required to repair the damage done in this quarter by the floods.

Turning now in another direction we have represented High-street, in the township of Seymour, from a photograph by Rummel and Moss. This locality is particularly exposed to the ravages of floods. Three years ago the whole flat on which the township is situated was one sheet of water, there being not one square inch of dry land to be found, except round two public houses. The extent of the flood this winter may be judged when it is stated that in houses dry and habitable on the former occasion, the water was over the knees in all the rooms. The main road was under water to a depth varying from 4 ft. to 7 ft. The inhabitants had to leave their homes, and seek safety at Mr. Maxfield’s mill, and Messrs. Guild and Parson’s hotel. Throughout the whole district known as the valley of the Goulburn the flood was uncmnraonly severe, and attended with loss of life. A correspondent, writing from Alexandra on the 13th, says:—”Sept. 9th will be a day never to be forgotten on the Goulburn as the date of one of the most disastrous floods ever known in the colony. For several days before the river had been rising steadily, and it was surmised that the great heat which had been a week previous followed by heavy rain, would have the effect of melting the snow which had accumulated on Wood’s Point, and so cause a heavy flood. On Thursday night conjectures were changed into realities, for the flood did come with a vengeance. Dashing irresistibly onwards, like some huge monster suddenly let loose upon the earth, sweeping away everything before it,—houses, fences, trees and logs for a distance of two miles broad, and leaving nothing behind but a track of ruin and devastation. Viewed from the top of a hill, the scene was one of awful grandeur; as far as the eye could reach, for miles’ around, was one vast sheet of water; while the roaring of the river mingled with the bellowing of cattle and the more plaintive bleating of the unfortunate sheep hemmed in by the flood, made up a scene, impossible to describe. Messrs. Thompson, Johnson and M’Faddin, farmers, who lived on Stone’s Flat, about five miles from Alexandra, had to escape with their families to the house of Mr. E. Gaile, which was situated on a hill, nearly a mile away, having to wade knee-deep the whole distance, and not being able to save anything except what they wore at the time. Mrs. Hamilton, a widow woman, who lived some distance farther on, succeeded in getting to the hill with an old man in her employ, where they had to pass the night in mia-mia. But by far the greatest loser of any, is Mr. James Hamilton, of Wauregarwan, for in addition to a large quantity of fencing, two bullock drays and a large iron boiler have been swept away by the current, together with about 200 sheep, and nearly forty cattle are still missing. Mr. Hamilton and his family and servants, (thirteen in all) were obliged to quit the house and take refuge in the loft of the barn, where they continued for over twelve hours, until released by Mr. Wade, a squatter, and two men, who had come to their assistance in a boat. A farmer named Jordan, with his family (seven), were exposed to most imminent peril, having had to camp out all night on a small bank, completely surrounded by water. They too were rescued by Mr. Wade, who deserves great credit for the gallant manner in which he risked his own life several times to save those of his fellow-creatures. With the assistance of that gentleman several other families were got safely to the station, where kind hands and warm hearts made them as comfortable as circumstances would permit. Five horses belonging to a waggoner named Gray, were drowned near Yea, while crossing a small creek. The unfortunate man estimates his loss at £150. News from Thornton yesterday states that the wife and child of Mr. G. Christie had been drowned while attempting to leave the house in the flood. From Tallarook it is reported that a woman and child were washed off the top of their hut and drowned, and that the body of a man had been discovered in the flood the other side of Yea.” At Melbourne the flood did not prove so extensive as was at first apprehended. For a time there was reason to fear that the overflow of the Yarra would be equal to that in 1863, with all the consequent loss and ruin to the homesteads along its banks. As usual on an occasion of this kind, the central parts of the city were speedily deluged, and the torrents which swept down Elizabeth and Swanston streets stretched across the roadway, and reached the door steps on both sides of the street. The St. Kilda and Sandridge roads were both submerged several feet in places, and all approaches to Emerald hill for a time disappeared. From the railway to the Immigrant’s Home in the one direction, and from the Botanical Gardens to beyond Emerald-hill in the other, all the flats were covered with a sheet of water. Ferry boats were in requisition, and without the aid of these all pedestrian communication across Prince’s-bridge was entirely cut off. The whole of the low-lying land between the river and Clarendon-street, Emerald-hill, was entirely covered. The factories on the flats all suffered severely, while many of the small manufacturers have sustained losses which, in some cases, may cripple them in their operations. At the wharfs the water never at any time endangered the goods, and consequently all apprehension was soon quieted. Our view, taken from the Immigration barracks, represents the state of affairs at Prince’s-bridge.