Hannan Street, Kalgoorlie, 1898
CHAPTER XVII
Kalgoorlie City—The Six Great Mines in the Golden Mile—Mr. Kaufman—Early Predictions Verified—Associated—Lake View Consols and Great Boulder.
Hannan’s, or Kalgoorlie as it is now called, is 24 miles from Coolgardie, and as I took my comfortable seat in the railway carriage, sped along the once forsaken desert and arrived at the now famous City of Gold, with its broad streets and splendid buildings, it seemed incredible that such a transformation should take place in a few short years. It would be difficult to point to any place in the world that has developed so rapidly. During their short existence Kalgoorlie and the Boulder City have turned out over 31 tons of gold, and Coolgardie has been quite outstripped by her younger sister. I think, when gold is measured by the ton, the colony from which it comes may be fairly considered marvellous. It is only seven years since Hannan and Harrigan threw themselves down to rest on the ground at the eastern corner of what is now Kalgoorlie, and, fortunately for thousands of lucky people, discovered gold, and now, as far as that precious metal is concerned, Kalgoorlie is the hub of Australia. Kalgoorlie is a well-laid-out city. Bicycle tracks are laid down on the 30-foot wide paths, electric lights are everywhere, trees have been planted in the broad streets, and by-and-by will afford shade in the hot days for which Kalgoorlie is noted. The new post-office is a splendid building, and has cost £40,000. The warden’s and other public offices are also on a grand scale. There are several magnificent hotels, especially the Railway, opposite the station, and the Palace, covering half an acre of ground, which I have made my headquarters. This hotel is far the best on the goldfields of Western Australia; every luxury is obtainable; it has a spacious dining-room with electric fans always going, exquisite drawing-rooms, and good attendance.
There are several newspapers, the chief of which is the Kalgoorlie Miner, edited by Mr. Kirwan, who identifies himself in every way with the interests of the people as well as with his editorial duties; the miners have a staunch friend in him. There are many fine shops, especially jewellers, where gold nuggets of all shapes and sizes made into handsome ornaments may be bought. Land at Kalgoorlie is daily increasing in value. An offer of £100 a foot was refused by an acquaintance of mine for a plot she is lucky enough to own. Some mining-men, including the well-known Mr. Zeb. Lane, were dining at the next table to myself on one occasion, and one of them remarked that he was sure that in a few years there would be 300,000 people in Kalgoorlie. You may be sure, holding that opinion, that the gentleman was looking out for investments. A handsome new theatre is being erected in Hannan’s Street. At present the Miners’ Institute supplies the entertainments. The suburbs of Piccadilly and Mullingar stretch far beyond the town site, and the three miles to Boulder City are fast being built on, and will shortly form one continuous busy road. Three fine breweries supply the needful refreshment to thirsty souls, and altogether Kalgoorlie is a splendid goldfields city, but the summer weather is almost indescribable. One of the days had been unbearably hot and oppressive; but dark clouds were overhead, and I said, “Soon we shall have a rain storm, which will cool the air.” My friends whom I was visiting laughed, and one of them, with a merry twinkle in the eye, said, “There will probably be a storm, but you will soon get accustomed to this kind of weather; wait awhile.” In the evening Fitzgerald’s “Great World Circus” being in town, we decided to risk the “storm,” make up a party, and go to the performance. All went well until about nine o’clock, when suddenly came “the dreadful thunder”—the clouds had broken; then came, not the rain, but dust, dust, dust—red, stifling, blinding, and terrible; for the roof of the “Great World Circus” had been completely lifted off by the red-dust fiend, while with his breath he had extinguished almost every light in the tent. Crash! whiff! whirl! and the “willy willy” had madly danced far away. One minute’s terrified silence and then through the remaining red haze could be seen the circus performers bravely continuing their entertainment as if nothing had happened; and blended with the echo of the distant din could be heard the strains, “Gaily the music go-o-es, so gaily.” But the vast audience of upwards of 3000 people, who, though the roar had been so strangely “hush,” had witnessed enough excitement for one night, gradually filed out through the rent of the swaying canvas wall, my friends and I amongst them, arriving home very white-faced, underneath the brown-red war paint so cunningly and weirdly distributed on us by the fiend. After wiping the dust out of my own eye, I remembered the twinkle that I had seen in some one else’s, and I laughingly exclaimed, “Was that the ‘thunderstorm’ you recommended me to ‘wait’ for?”
Palace Hotel, Kalgoorlie
“We had a narrow escape,” tersely and grimly (I had almost written grimily), remarked my friend; but he must have rubbed the twinkle out of his eye and the dust into his temper for he declined to see the joke; however, as mirth is catching, we were soon a merry party once more, and I was regaled with “willy willy” stories of roofs being carried for miles, and of houses being torn down by these huge “dust spouts,” and, as at intervals I heard the “thunder” in the distance, I could well believe the dancing, whirling devils capable of anything. Many good theatrical companies now visit the goldfields, but the expenses of a travelling company are very large, the railway fare from Perth being about six pounds each return ticket first class, and four pounds second (there is no third class in the colonies). The hotel tariff is from twelve shillings per day (Palace sixteen), the smallest drinks (a big item in such a hot and thirsty country) are a shilling each, and half a crown is the usual price for a bath, as before said. There are no large theatres on the fields, but the managers make the prices for admission high, the community not caring how much they spend if they really wish to see anything; in fact, that is one of their little worries, they are always looking out for something to spend their money on. Horses, yes, the best procurable, and they are a very high price. Champagne is from twenty-five shillings a bottle, and that is the first drink the lucky miner calls for; his great mania is “shouting,” as they call it, that is treating wine to everybody they know. “Wives and families to spend it on?” “Oh, yes; but they are on the other side,” meaning the Eastern colonies; “I always send them plenty to live on, and when I’ve made my pile (fortune) I’ll go home with it; in the meantime I must do something to make life endurable here,” and the Hebe at the bar smiles sweetly, and for it receives perhaps a diamond bracelet. I am not speaking of the miner who earns his weekly wages, but of the man who is lucky in his speculations of shares, or who owns part of a mine, and when they strike rich, as they call it, spends his money lavishly. I sat on the Palace Hotel balcony in Hannan Street one afternoon and watched the crowd passing up and down; I was surprised to see the women so richly dressed, elegant Redfern tailor-made gowns and Worth carriage costumes (although no carriages were to be seen, but plenty of buggies with dust-covered hoods) were much in evidence; many of the rich women send to London and Paris I am told for their gowns. Occasionally a plainly-dressed woman in a tweed or Assam silk costume with neat sailor hat would pass, probably a mine manager’s wife or English visitor, but the majority of the women of the goldfields spare no expense in the style and richness of their dresses. At the present time the population of Kalgoorlie, its suburbs, and Boulder City is nearly 60,000. In a very short time electric tramways will be running, and extensive swimming baths are now being built. There are many good churches, which shows that in the rush for gold the welfare of the soul is not neglected. Goldfields places are usually looked on as somewhat lawless. I can assure my readers, however, that those in Western Australia are an exception.