There is a
Yahoo Group
interested in Smalleys that came to Australia., Highly recommended.
It has a newspaper cutting of a Smalley reunion held in Queensland that
may be of interest
The following article by Bryan Davis appears there also
Here is a
romance, the motif of which would be too far-fetched and extravagant to
be used in a magazine story.
It began when a small girl, Eliza
Wooldridge, came to Ballarat with her parents just one day after the
famous fight between the military and the diggers on the slopes of
Eureka. A few years later Eliza went to the Pleasant-street Wesleyan
church which was built by the many Cornish miners, who each Saturday
night handed over a fixed proportion of their week's earnings. Here
Eliza got herself a sweet-heart, young Tom Smalley, who had been born
at sea while his parents were making the seven months' sea voyage to
the golden fields of Ballarat in 1852. The course of true love ran
smoothly till in 1868, tall, handsome, well-to-do mining manager John
Champion came courting pretty Eliza, and won his suit. In the
succeeding years Eliza presented her husband with eight young
Champions. Tom Smalley did not break his heart. He went to Melbourne,
found another lady to share his love and fortune, and became the father
of fourteen children.\
That is the end of the first chapter of the
romance. Now fifty years must have skipped. And here comes the second
chapter. The Pleasant-street Methodist Church was celebrating its
jubilee. The energetic pastor, the late Rev. J. Palamountain, went to a
lot of trouble to get in touch with everybody who at any time had been
a member of the church. Among the names handed to him was that of Tom
Smalley. So it came to pass the when the grand reunion took place in
the old church Mr. Thomas Smalley, now a sturdy widower of 79 was
present. And there he met his old sweet-heart, Eliza Champion, now a
cheerful widow, also 79. The old couple chatted and laughed together as
they reminded each other about gay doings 60 years ago. And the story
ends, as all good romances should, with a very happy wedding ceremony.
For ten years the reunited couple lived like a pair of young lovers at
20 Pleasant-street south. Less than a year ago Tom Smalley died aged
90, leaving behind a very sad old widow.
The Good Old Days
A few weeks
before his death I paid a visit to the old couple. As we drank our tea,
the two sat very close together, and I got then talking about the days
when Ballarat was very young. Mrs. Smalley's father was mining manager
of the famous Kohinoor mine, from which a quarter of a million pounds'
worth of gold was obtained. In 1860 the valuable Leg of Mutton nugget
was discovered in one of the drives of the Kohinoor. With his share of
the 3386 pounds obtained from the sale of this nugget, Mr. Wooldridge
took his wife and family for a trip home to his native place, the Duchy
of Cornwall. Mrs. Smalley showed me a ring that had been made from some
of the gold of the Leg of Mutton nugget. With pride she told me the she
was one of the 6000 children who sang together at Plymouth to do honour
to the marriage of the Prince of Wales to Princess Alexandria of
Denmark on March 10 1863. In 1865 Mr. Wooldridge brought his family
back to Ballarat and built himself a fine home in Eyre-street. Old Tom
interrupted the old lady's story with a laugh. "Yes ! That's when Liza
and me became sweethearts ! Eh ! old girl ! But-------" Along came
tall, fine looking John Champion and carried off the pretty Eliza. He
made a fine nest for his bride at 20 Pleasant-street, and there she has
lived ever since. That's 72 years ago. Mr Smalley broke in again to
tell me that he had seen many corrobories of the blackfellows on the
flat where to-day is the City Oval. He described how the half-naked
aborigines, 50 or more of them, with their red and white painted
bodies, yelled their war songs and danced madly around their big camp
fires. The old lady shuddered and murmured, "They nearly frightened the
life out of me!" Tom gave his old lady a protective pat on the shoulder
and an affectionate smile. "We were sweethearts in those days, and we
are sweethearts still!" His rheumy old eyes glistened as he told me of
things he had seen in far of days. "That same day that Liza was singing
in Plymouth, because of our Prince of Wales was being married, I was a
young chap in Sturt-street, By George ! There was a a lot of people
there ! Thousands of them ! And no wonder ! A bullock was roasted whole
in the middle of the street. And when the animal was true and properly
done, there was half a dozen butchers with their big knives cutting of
the hot, juicy meat and handing them out to the cheering people. "I got
more than one slice ! By George ! I 1did !" And the old chap smacked
his lips. The he gave his old wife a gentle dig in the ribs "Say, Liza,
do you remember the Sunday school picnic in 1866 ? We had it up at the
Swamp. They were trying to make a lake of the Swamp, and they talked
about making gardens on the other side. I remember what folks said
about it. 'A lake without water; a garden without flowers.' " "Yes !"
interrupted Mrs. Smalley. "There was a big eagle chained to a post that
scared the wits out of me !" "But say, Liza. Do you remember that
picnic ?" I am sure there was a blush on the wrinkled old face of Mrs.
Smalley as she gave her husband a playful push. "Oh ! Go along with
you, you silly old fellow !"
Cabbage Tree Ned
What interesting things
the old couple talked about ! They had seen Cabbage Tree Ned drive his
team of fourteen horses in the Leviathan coach with more than 100
passengers in 1861 from Geelong. They remembered the great flood of
1888, when Bridge-street was a swift flowing river, and boats were used
to rescue the residents. They told how they had seen the armed body of
police, every Thursday, leave Ballarat for Melbourne, escorting the
carts containing thousands of ounces of gold. They remembered the time
when hundreds of stampers in the quarts batteries went bang, bang,
bang, all through the night. For a fascinating hour I sat and listened
to this merry old couple, each 89 years of age, tell their stories of
the days when Ballarat was only a mining camp, a place of tents and
lots of very easily won gold. Then Tom Smalley came to the door to see
me off. I shook hands with him and said "Goodbye !" "Don't say
Good-bye! Come again and have a cup of tea with us ! She'll be glad to
see you ! You know we were sweethearts sixty years ago, and we are
sweethearts still. So long !" When I got to the gate I looked back at
the smiling old chap waving his hand to me. I went back to the world of
strife, feeling a better man because I had met these big hearted
survivors of the days when Ballarat was very young,
Reproduced from an unnamed news paper cutting by Bryan L Davis - Aug
2000
This story came down as "oral tradition" on our side of the family. It
had been romanticised a little, having Eliza's family disapproving of
the match (Quite probable; the Smalley's were working class, the
Wooldridges probably better off). The Wooldridge's were said to have
taken their daughter to England to prevent the match. (Less likely, it
seems). The story also has 76 year old Thomas annoucing to a
stunned family that he wanted a white shirt ironed because he was
going to Ballarat to get married.
Emily Marshall
