History revisited - the Premier greenlight's self-government referendum; the movement squibs

GAINING GROUND: NSW Premier Bertram Stevens (photo) tells Michael Bruxner he could have his referendum on self-government, but with decreasing support and continuing disputes over boundaries, Bruxner feared to put the matter to the test, a decision he would come to regret.  

In October 1931, the dream of self government for New England seemed within reach. The various new state movements had combined to form the United Country Movement with the United Country Party as its political wing, while all the non-Labor groups had agreed that new states should be a key plank in their combined platform.

David Drummond, the member for Armidale, had played a deciding role in those complex negotiations.

Unlike Page, Hardy or (to a lesser extent) Bruxner, Drummond was not a mass agitator. He had deliberately turned himself into a good stump speaker, perhaps better than Page or Bruxner in terms of delivery and clarity, but he lacked the emotional spark that allowed the others to sweep a crowd before them. He was too concerned to explain, to appeal to the intellect rather than the emotions of his audience. In a very real sense he wanted to teach his audience just as he had so painstakingly taught himself. 

These weaknesses were offset by a very major strength, his ability to give form and coherence to ideas and organisations. He was also trusted. In the chaotic conditions of the time, it was these strengths that were most needed. Drummond had played a key role in creating unity among the country movements. Now he would try to steer the cause through the next stages.

The December 1931 Federal elections saw the first setback. The unity that had been established among the non-Labor forces was swept aside in sometimes bitter campaigning, with Joseph Lyons able to establish a majority United Australia Party government in January 1932 excluding Page and the Country Party.

In NSW, the Governor Sir Philip Game dismissed Jack Lang on 13 May 1932. Early in 1931, the New England and Riverina Movement had been prepared to secede. Later, in changing circumstances, the decision had been reached that they would act if Premier Lang again breached the constitution.

Page saw Lyons in Melbourne. Lyons told Page quite bluntly that if New England did secede, he might be forced to call in the army. The movement temporized. There was still willingness to act, but only in the right circumstances. Game’s dismissal of Lang ended that option. They had waited too long, something many would regret. 

The NSW state elections of June 1932 saw Labor swept from power. On 23 August 1933, Justice H.S. Nicholas was appointed to determine the areas of NSW suitable for self-government.

After his earlier experience with his successful move to create the disastrous Cohen Royal Commission, Drummond was taking no chances. Not only was Nicholas carefully selected, but Drummond demanded answers in writing from Nicholas over his scope and role. The question of suitability was out. The only issue was definition of boundaries.

The first hearings were held on 18 October 1933, with Drummond organising the various movement responses. The fervour that had marked 1931 and 1932 was gone. Opposition emerged, with the position of the powerful Norco dairy cooperative particularly problematic for it feared the loss of the Sydney milk market.

Nicholas reported in 1935. He found that two areas would be suitable for self-government as States within the Commonwealth of Australia, a northern region, and a central, western and southern region, with descriptions of the boundaries of each region listed.

NSW Premier Bertam Stevens told Bruxner that he could have his referendum on self-government. With enthusiasm down as well as continuing disputes over boundaries, Bruxner feared to put the matter to the test.

Bruxner would come to deeply regret this decision. But, for the present, the cause had ended. It would be ten years before agitation re-surfaced.

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 17 December 2014. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014.

If you want to follow the story of the Northern or New England self-government movement, this is the entry post for the series.

Working Post - the counter culture movement in Australia's New England 1 - Introduction

In 1972, scouts from the Australian Union of Students came to the village and persuaded the Nimbin Progress Association to allow a festival to be held there. The result in 1973 was a ten day festival – the Aquarius Festival, a celebration of the dawning of the `Consciousness' and `Protest' movements in the heady days of the Vietnam war, free love and marijuana - a festival of discovery. The photo shows domes at the  Festival.

Nimbin entered Australian popular culture as a potent symbolic marker. However, it was more than that. From a New England historical perspective, it was a major marker that, in combination with other changes, shifted the local historical narrative. From an Australian perspective, it was the local manifestation of a global change process.

This post is the first part of a series tracing these changes. It will evolve over the next week or so as I sketch out patterns. As I add posts in the series, I will reference them here so that you can follow the story through. 

History revisited - Lyons splits the ALP: deal seems to place New England self-government within reach

1931 was a remarkably complicated year. My focus is on the fight for New England self-government, but that fight was taking place against a backdrop of economic and political turmoil that would reshape the Australian political landscape.

From 15 March 1931, NSW began to systematically default on interest payments, forcing the Commonwealth to make the payments instead. By the end of June, the net total paid out by the Commonwealth had reached nearly four million pounds. In June, Premier Lang accepted the Premiers’ economic reconstruction plan but still had no intention of resuming interest payments.

By the end of June, the State’s financial position had deteriorated to the point where, even after non-payment of interest, public service salaries could not be met from mid July. In response, the Lang Government introduced emergency legislation increasing income taxes by between 60 and 75 per cent. 

The defeat of this legislation forced NSW to go cap in hand to the Loan Council seeking financial support. The price was resumption of interest payments, together with Lang’s implementation of the Premiers Plan.

Under pressure, the Australian Labor Party splintered into Lang and anti-Lang factions, while Joseph Lyons (photo) led a group out of the Party to form a new party, the All for Australia League. In May 1931, the Lyons block merged with the Nationalist Party to form the United Australia Party (UAP) with Lyons as leader.

Hurt by internal dissent and facing a hostile Senate, the Scullin Labor Government became increasingly helpless. Late in 1931, the Lang supporters in the Federal Parliament combined with the UAP to defeat the Government and force an early election.

At local level, the New England leadership in April 1931 faced four related problems.

They had first to consolidate support for the separatist cause in the North. Secondly, they had to reach some measure of agreement with the other country movements as to organization, objectives and method or risk destruction by country in-fighting. Thirdly, the future relationship (if any) between the Country Party and country movements had to be defined. Finally, there was the continuing problem, how to push the separatist cause to a successful conclusion.

There is only space here to sketch key features. On 28 April at a first unity conference, the four new state movements agreed a common platform, although differences remained. This was followed by a second unity conference on 18 June that resolved remaining differences and created a central council. Then on 14 and 15 August complex and sometimes difficult negotiations saw the creation of a United Country Movement with the Country Party as its political wing.

In October, a unity meeting between all the main non-Labor forces led to the creation of a coalition agreement in which all parties including the United Australia Party adopted the Country Party platform including new states.

Action to achieve self-government for New England appeared within reach. It was not to be quite as easy as that.

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 10 December 2014. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014,. 

If you want to follow the story of the Northern or New England self-government movement, this is the entry post for the series.

History revisited - NSW to be torn apart by five state solution

New Englanders know this place, the NSW Parliament, as their present parliament. It might not have been been, may not be in future.

The tumultuous early months of 1931 had seen the emergence of four self government movements – New England, Riverina, Monaro-South Coast and Western. This implied a five state solution, with NSW reduced to Sydney, the Central Coast and Blue Mountains with still to be defined northern and southern boundaries.

The relative size and economic power of the five areas varied, but the structure did make basic sense in geographic terms. You can see this clearly if you map the various administrative boundaries used by Sydney over time to govern a large and disparate state. Boundaries vary, but they all generally link to this five-fold division.

The evolving structure may have made sense in geographic terms, but there were considerable differences between and as well as divisions within the various movements. This was especially true for the newly re-emerged Riverina and long established New England movements.

The idea of provincial councils had become well established. During the decentralization movements of the 1880s, the idea of creating provinces within NSW had been put forward as an alternative to new colonies. Then in 1925 the Cohen Commission had concluded that the creation of provincial councils within NSW would address country grievances.

The provincial council idea was further extended by those who supported the abolition of the states and their replacement by provinces with delegated powers, a position adopted by the Federal Labor Party.

There had always been considerable support within the Riverina for the provincial councils’ model. Now in reaction to the Lang Plan, many representative argued that the only solution to the problem of a renegade state was the replacement of states by provinces.

The Northern position, carefully articulated by David Drummond in the aftermath of the Cohen Commission, was different. Provincial councils with delegated powers could not work, Drummond argued, because the central government would always override them as its political imperatives demanded. The only solution was to give the states (or provinces) their own powers.

In addition to differences on constitutional issues, the Riverina Movement was strongly influenced by anti-party, anti-political populist ideas that had flowered under the impact of Depression, leading it to adopt radical positions. These ideas were present within New England populism as well, but there they were tempered by and fitted within an articulated institutional and constitutional position

Personalities compounded the differences. Riverina leader Charles Hardy was younger, less experienced, brash. His offer to Page to campaign in New England ‘to stir up the people’ was greeted with indignation, compounding the personal tensions between Page, Bruxner and Hardy.

The political outlook seemed clouded in the extreme. It was left to David Drummond to find a way through the maze.

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 3 December 2014. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014,. 

If you want to follow the story of the Northern or New England self-government movement, this is the entry post for the

History revisited - other regions join the fight for separation

The 28 February 1931 Armidale meeting had placed the Northern Separatist Movement on the radical path proposed by Earle Page. But another and more radical movement was emerging that would create opportunities and challenges for the Northern separatist cause.

The Riverina Separatist Movement had collapsed following the 1925 Cohen Commission Report. However, Riverina’s political grass had now become tinder dry, ready to burn.

The Depression induced collapse in commodity prices caused acute distress in farming regions. Farmers were angry about the Depression related tariff increases that raised their costs. Then, in 1930, the Federal Government launched a disastrous grow more wheat campaign in an attempt to increase Australia’s export income. Increased production drove prices down, adding to wheat growers’ financial woes.

The Farmers and Settlers’ and Graziers’ Associations combined to form a new body, the Producers’ Advisory Council, to organise country interests. The Council held protest meetings across NSW demanding reduced Government spending, taxation and tariff protection.

The Council met with greatest success in the wool and wheat districts of the Central West and Riverina, areas hit hard by the grow more wheat campaign. In so doing, it prepared the way for a new Riverina Movement led by Charles Hardy, a Wagga Wagga timber merchant.

The thirty two year old Hardy had played a major role in Riverina activities, establishing a wide network of friends and contacts. A man of great personal charm with a magnetic personality, Hardy also proved to be talented agitator.

On 8 February 1931, a week before Page’s Glenreagh speech, thirty men from various parts of the Riverina including Hardy met in Wagga Wagga to consider what action might be taken in view of the deteriorating political and economic circumstances. They decided to adopt the Producers’ Advisory Council platform and to hold two mass protest meetings, one at Wagga on 28 February, a second at Narranderra on 7 March.

The next day NSW Premier Jack Lang announced the Lang Plan. As had happened in the North, this electrified the political situation. On 28 February, the day of the Armidale meeting, 10,000 people gathered on the banks of Murrumbidgee River near Wagga.

The first motion calling on the Government to affect immediate and drastic reductions in the cost of government, to relieve primary producers from statutory burdens and to prepare proposals for drastic reductions in interest rates was carried with wild cheers.

A second motion was then carried stating that if the Government did not accede to these wishes by 31 March, a referendum should be held on the question of Riverina secession. On 7 March, a 5,000 strong mass meeting at Narranderra carried similar motions.

Driven by Hardy, the new movement spread rapidly across the Riverina, with sister movements springing up in the West and Monaro. A new force had been born. 

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 26 November 2014. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014,.

If you want to follow the story of the Northern or New England self-government movement, this is the entry post for the whole series

History revisited - Page loses key lieutenant

The period leading up to Page’s 17 February 1931 Glenreagh speech had seen some feverish behind the scenes activity.

On 30 November 1930, the President of the Farmers and Settlers Association at Murwillumbah had telegraphed Page asking that he and Victor Thompson organise a conference ‘with a view to declaring northern new state’. Page telegraphed back, promising to place the telegram before a meeting of the Northern members of the NSW Parliament.

Page had some difficulties in gathering the members together. It was not until 30 January 1931 that he met with David Drummond and Alf Pollack (the member for Clarence: photo) at Cremorne in Sydney to discuss strategy. Unfortunately. Pollack died suddenly later that day.

Politics is about people. The ideas and enthusiasm generated by the mercurial Page had considerable impact. As Deputy Prime Minister and Federal Treasurer he failed to create Australia’s first national superannuation scheme. Later, he would create the first national health scheme. Yet he depended on others to provide form and the supporting under-pinning required to make his ideas work.

A solicitor, Pollack had been to school at Grafton and Armidale before establishing his practice in Grafton. He had been a key Page lieutenant since at least 1915 when the dispute over the Helen river ferry launched the first twentieth century Northern separation campaign. Like Drummond, Pollack one was of those who provided practical grounding to Page’s enthusiasms. His death left a considerable gap.

A week after Pollack’s death, the announcement of the Lang Plan electrified the situation. On 13 February, Page came to Sydney to present his plans to colleagues on the action to be taken if Premier Lang carried out his threat to repudiate interest payments on the State’s overseas debt.

There were considerable reservations. Nevertheless, Page was given his head, while the decision was made to call a special meeting of the Northern New State Executive to be held in Armidale on 28 February 1931 to consider Page’s ideas.

While still technically an Executive meeting, the 28 February meeting was now being treated as a full Movement convention. That Saturday more than 200 delegates gathered to hear Page unveil his plans. The North should organise itself, Page said, ‘into a self-governing unit, demand recognition from the Federal Government on the ground that we intend to obey the Federal law and Constitution and pay our debts.’

In Drummond’s view, Page made an important tactical error her. The issues were so clear-cut to Page that he forgot that many delegates were hearing his plans for the first time. They were understandably cautious about a course of action so clearly smacking of rebellion. Finally, after protracted discussion and with some misgivings and private reservations, the delegates carried a series of resolutions that placed the Movement on the path that Page proposed. These included adoption for the first time of the name New England to describe the entire North.

Meantime, another movement was emerging that would create opportunities and challenges for the Northern separatist cause.

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 19 November 2014. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014,. 

If you want to follow the story of the Northern or New England self-government movement, this is the entry post for the whole series

History revisited – as society fragments, movements begin to form

My last column outlined some of the economic and political events leading into the Great Depression. In the economic and political turmoil of 1930 and 1932 the very fabric of NSW life began to collapse. Many blamed the existing politicians and political parties for the problems and condemned them, calling for new approaches.

New political movements now mushroomed on the right and left of politics. Formed in February 1931, the All for Australia League claimed a membership of 130,000 by the end of June. The Unemployed Workers Movement formed in April 1930 claimed a membership of 31,00o by the middle of 1931. A strong undercurrent of fear ran beneath this political activity.

As the fear of revolution spread, private citizens began to arm, forming unofficial paramilitary organisations. On 18 February 1931, just nine days after Lang announced the Lang Plan, a private meeting of eight men at the Imperial Services Club in Sydney decided to form the New Guard. In less than a year, the Guard had grown to 87,000 men. The photo shows New Guard Leader Eric Campbell leading a fascist salute. 

The Guard courted publicity, and this has given it a faintly comic air. However, it was arguably very dangerous; its strident rhetoric was associated with a well organised military structure, largely in Sydney, that might have allowed it to seize power.

Less flamboyant than the New Guard was the shadowy organisation known as the “Movement” to its members. Formed in November 1930 the Movement, later derisively called the Old Guard by its New Guard rivals, aimed to build up a disciplined force of 9,000 men who would only be called out in the event of a situation beyond police control.

While the strength of para-military forces in the North is difficult to gauge, it is clear that units were formed. However, although there appear to have been small New Guard branches at Lismore and Newcastle, the great majority of Northern groups were almost certainly independent or associated in some way with the Old Guard rather than the more efficient and extreme New Guard.

It is also reasonably clear that the Northern separatist leadership had at least had some knowledge of, if not connections with, the Old Guard. This is hardly surprising, given the number of ex-military officers connected in some way with the Northern New State Movement, for these formed the core of the Old Guard.

Nevertheless, whatever the strength or indeed affiliations of Northern para-military groups, their very existence was an important influence in the increasingly confused political climate of 1931 and early 1932.

In these circumstances, Page’s 17 February 1931 Glenreagh speech calling on the North to secede was not just a dramatic gesture. It was very close to a formal call to arms, a call for revolution.

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 12 November 2014. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014.

If you want to follow the story of the Northern or New England self-government movement, this is the entry post for the whole series

History revisited – great depression brings divides on left and right

The fire ignited by Earle Page’s 17 February 1931 Glenreagh call for the people of the North to secede from New South Wales drew its strength in part from the now established desire for self-government for the North, more from the social and political tensions unleashed by the Great Depression.

At the outbreak of war in 1914, Australia’s population was just 4.9 million. During the war, 420,000 Australians enlisted, equivalent to 38.7 per cent of the male population. Some 60,000 died, others were wounded or became sick. Including deaths, wounded and sickness, the Australian casualty rate reached 64.8 per cent.

Many Australians returning from the front found readjustment to civilian life difficult. They provided a force for change that helped fuel many of the political movements including the rising Country Party and a resurgent Northern Separation Movement.

There were divisions on the right and left, fuelled in part by the rise of Bolshevism and the success of the Russian Revolution. The radicals looked to the possibility of change, the conservatives feared the overthrow of the existing order.

While the roaring twenties were nowhere near as prosperous as the label would suggest, economic growth was sufficient to contain the underlying divisions. However, that growth was patchy and built on unstable foundations.

Rising tariff protection encouraged expansion of manufacturing. In 1925-26 manufacturing employment exceed rural for the first time. Industrialisation was associated with and assisted by heavy expenditure on public works such as railways, electricity, roads and sewerage. The pattern of industrialisation and public works led to further growth in the metropolitan cities.

Metropolitan population growth became self-generating, for the need to house rising city populations added thousands more jobs in building and construction. Productivity growth in manufacturing was extremely low, import competition rising despite rising tariffs.

Industry responded by trying to control or even cut wages, which in turn led to continuing industrial trouble. Meantime, the rising drift of population to the city together with the cost squeeze placed upon primary export industries as a consequence of rising input costs began to fuel a new wave of country political agitation.

In 1929, the economic house of cards collapsed. The previous year new overseas borrowings to fund Government public works programs had reached fifty-two million pounds, while interest payments on accumulated loans had reached 28 per cent of export income.

The perfect economic storm that now descended combined falling commodity prices with the closure of the London markets to new borrowings. Public works ground to a halt, while Governments were forced into a desperate search for solvency leading to Greek style expenditure cuts.

Unemployment rose and rose again, reaching 23.4 per cent by the end of 1930. As economic conditions worsened, previously submerged social and political tensions emerged. Australian society began to fragment.

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 5 November 2014. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014.

If you want to follow the story of the Northern or New England self-government movement, this is the entry post for the whole series

Nathan Wise on the failure in soldier settlement after World War One

Short post to just to provide a link to a radio interview with UNE's Nathan Wise on the failure of soldier settlement after World War One.

History revisited – battling for self-government in the North

“In a fiery speech, Earle Page calls on the people of the North to secede.”

Glenreagh, Tuesday 17 February 1931. In a fiery speech, Earle Page calls on the people of the North to secede.

Eleven days earlier (6 February), the Premiers had met in Canberra to discuss a three year plan to rectify the economic situation. Federal Treasurer E G Theodore had suggested that a new and expansionary monetary policy should be adopted. NSW Premier Jack Lang, a bitter political rival, responded with his own plan, one that came as a surprise even to his own State party.

Under the Lang Plan, payment of interest to British bond-holders would cease pending re-negotiation of the loans on satisfactory terms; interest on all government borrowings would be reduced to 3 per cent; while the gold standard would be replaced by an undefined “goods standard.” What came to be known as the battle of the plans had begun.

Now in response, Page declared that the “people of the North seem to have no other course but to cut adrift from New South Wales. The people of Northern New South Wales refuse to have any part of or lot in this matter of default.” They would request recognition from the Federal Parliament as state that “would be organised under a Provisional Government pending adjustment of relationships and liabilities with New South Wales”.

This appeal, Page went on, would be “on all fours with the appeal of West Virginia” which was recognised by Abraham Lincoln as a separate state when it declared for the Federal Union.

Reaction to the Page speech was instantaneous, if mixed.

“Divorce is ever a tragedy and a confession of failure!”, wrote the newly arrived Anglican Bishop of Armidale John Stoward Moyes in an open letter to the Northern press. “I hope, gentlemen, that deep loyalty to the nation will forbid the people of the North to be beguiled by such sinister proposals”. Later Moyes, convinced at last that the existing system needed changing, would join the New State executive.

The Armidale Express, while sympathetic, warned that the proposed action was fraught with such grave consequences “that the irrevocable step must be taken only after the most thorough investigation”.

People at Murwillumbah had no such doubts. There the shops closed to allow attendance at a new state meeting which resolved that “we decline at all costs to continue to pay taxes and tribute to be spent by caucus-controlled Government.”

For his part, Lang immediately hinted at action for sedition, while the Empire Party, one of the new political groups that had sprung up in Sydney, also suggested that Page was guilty of sedition for promoting secession.

The stage was now set for the next dramatic phase in the North’s fight for self government. To understand this, we first need to look back at the economic, political and social stresses that developed with the Great Depression.

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 29 October 2014. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014.

If you want to follow the story of the Northern or New England self-government movement, this is the entry post for the whole series

History revisited – North’s fight rages on

“A number of Movement leaders and especially Drummond would give evidence, articulating constitutional issues”

My next columns return to the story of New England’s fight for self-government, this time looking at the sometimes tumultuous events of the Depression years. As happened during the 1920s, large scale separatist agitation developed. This led to another Royal Commission, the Nicholas Royal Commission. Then, again as happened in the 1920s, the New State Movement effectively collapsed, exhausted by its efforts.

In May 1927, Victor Thompson had convened a meeting of the Northern New State Executive. In a sombre report, Thompson outlined the Movement’s problems.

The new state issue, he told delegates, was confined almost wholly to the North. Even there, the people were too divided in their political allegiances to become solid on the issue. Neither the Labor nor National Parties had any policies towards the establishment of a larger measure of self-government in any part of NSW, while the Country Party could not stake its existence upon a new state for the North. In all, there was no chance of action at state level.

Accepting Thompson’s analysis, the Executive decided to concentrate on seeking amendment of the Federal Constitution. It also decided to convene another convention at Armidale to examine proposals for the extension of local government within the existing state in accordance with the recommendations of the Cohen Commission. Given the Movement’s previous opposition to such councils, this was an act of despair.

As planning got underway, the Movement achieved one of its long-sought breakthroughs with the appointment by the Bruce-Page Government in August 1927 of a Royal Commission (the Peden Commission) to inquire into the Australian constitution.

A number of Movement leaders and especially Drummond would give evidence, articulating constitutional issues that would be of continuing importance. There is not room in this series to look at the detail of those issues. However, it is worth noting the role that Northern new state supporters have played in trying to force debate on constitutional issues from the 1920s to, most recently, the arguments of the late Bryan Pape (photo). 

It would be September 1929 before the Peden Commission reported. Meantime, the Movement went ahead with its plans for the third Armidale convention, although at first there was little enthusiasm. Despite this, the Movement planned the convention carefully.

A detailed plan for regional councils was prepared and widely circulated. The Northern press played its now usual role in publicising the issues. The end result was that the convention held over three days in April 1929 was well attended. There were thirteen parliamentarians present, while delegates came from sixty-eight towns.

In putting forward his regional council proposal, Victor Thompson was probably reflecting local opinion. Earle Page would have none of it. In a fiery speech he appealed to delegates not ‘to touch this unclean thing’ and won the day. The convention decided to continue the press towards self-government.

The convention had strengthened the Movement. Now events would bring the self-government cause back to centre stage.

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 22 October 2014. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014.

If you want to follow the story of the Northern or New England self-government movement, this is the entry post for the whole series

History revisited – past offers food for thought

Next week I will resume my story of New England’s fight for self government, looking at the tumultuous years of the Great Depression. Today a little on food.

Port Macquarie, Tuesday 20 August 1844. The wedding party gathered for the wedding lunch. The seventeen year old Annabella Boswell recorded the event in her journal.

“The table was literally covered”, she wrote. “I do not think that it would have held another glass, for in every crevice were placed custards, jellies and creams. At one end was the largest turkey I ever saw, well supported by hams, tongues, chickens, ducks, pies, tarts, puddings, blanc mange, and various fruits.”

In those simple words, you can see the loaded table. Makes me hungry just to think about it!

Now track forward. While I was a day boy, as a sub monitor or monitor I used to eat at TAS when I was on duty. Mutton stews and huge heavy puddings draped in (I think) Golden Syrup were standard fare. That’s a huge remove from that 1844 wedding feast. So what happened?


In his book One Continuous Picnic, Michael Symons attempts to trace the history of Australian food. Symons is biased, his views formed by living in Tuscany during the 1970s where he fell in love with Tuscan life as so many Australians have. He has a particular romantic view.

Accepting that, Symons argues that the creation of a unique Australian national cuisine was an opportunity missed. Between the late 1800s and early 20th century, before the processing and industrialisation of food took full hold, Australia had city farms and markets and a host of keen, cosmopolitan gourmets.

If you had lived in Armidale during the 1870s, you would have drunk the local beer or, perhaps, a wine from a local property. Your flour might have come from Kelly’s Plains and been locally milled. The milk and meat came from local animals. You grew your own vegetables, while your chooks provided eggs and meat.
Much of this vanished in a few decades as the railway brought cheaper products from other areas. There was no time for that trial and error using local ingredients that created the peasant cuisine of Tuscany. Food and drink was standardised, homogenised, although some local differences survived.

The world continues to change. A few weeks back, and by accident, a friend and I ended up at Cammeray Craft. There, distant from Armidale, I had a New England beer before lunch, followed by a rather fine New England wine, one of a number on the menu. I was very pleased, chatting to the owner about New England wine and food.

History begins in the present. It would be nice to think that in fifty years’ time the then history writer for the Express might be able to chart the rise of a New England cuisine!

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 15 October 2014. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014.

History revisited – Belshaw’s brief history of measuring time

“I wonder how many people know that  ….. the tyranny of time we all suffer from is very recent?” Jim Belshaw

The old courthouse clock is a familiar sight (and sound) in Armidale. I wonder how many people know that that clock, your wrist watch or, indeed, the tyranny of time we all suffer from is very recent?

For most of our ancestors until quite recently, the day was measured by the sun. The earliest clock we know, a variant of the sundial, first appeared in Egypt around 3,500 BC.

This doesn’t mean that earlier people didn’t have an acute sense of time. They did. The Australian Aborigines were acutely aware of time in a general sense, a travel or hunting sense, but simply didn’t need time divided into units. There was no point.

Measurable or fixed time emerged because certain activities demanded it. Initially, people really worked from dawn to dusk. However, as the concept of a working day or shift began to emerge, as the idea of the appointment emerged, clocks were required.

Now we come back to the court house clock. The first spring driven clock emerged in Europe in the 15th century, laying the basis for the development of the watch. But in colonial Australia as late as the middle of the nineteenth century clocks were uncommon, watches rarer. Time was announced by signal gun, whistles or limited number of town clocks.

Time was not as we know it now, however. Because time was set by the sun, each place had its own time. Newcastle time was two minutes later than Sydney time.

This didn’t matter when transport was slow, but the railways changed things for the railways needed timetables; it was simply a dratted nuisance to have to express a timetable in multiple times. Each colony therefore standardised time, creating an artificial standard based on capital city time that broke the nexus with time measured by movements of the sun.

Times were still different between the colonies. An Armidale traveller returning home by rail from a trip to Queensland had to wind back his watch by a bit under eight minutes as he walked from the Queensland to NSW platforms at Wallangarra. At Albury, the adjustment from Victorian to NSW time was around twenty five minutes.

These adjustments are relatively small. At Broken Hill, the locals had three times; South Australian time set by the rail line from Adelaide; Post and Telegraph time set by head office in Sydney; and local standard time. All very confusing.

It wasn’t until 1895 that the eastern colonies combined to adopt the new Eastern Standard time. This helped standardisation, but it actually meant that local time no longer reflected the sun time on which the body clock worked.

Even by 1895, modern attitudes to time measurement and punctuality had yet to achieve that rigidity that we now know. But it was coming.

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 8 October 2014. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014.

The Nineteen Counties

On this day in 1829 Governor Darling proclaimed the 19 counties of NSW, redefining the area the Europeans could settle. Hat tip to State Records NSW.

This map shows the boundaries. The squatters quickly spread beyond these limits.

The counties themselves vanished from memory, but their imprint remains.     

History revisited – Armidale’s many connections

I can’t help being obsessive. It’s a problem.

People who live in Armidale now are absorbed by the rituals of daily life in that city as it is today. That’s understandable. But what about the tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, who have connections with the city but who don’t live there? Where do they fit in?

At work a new staff member said “where do you come from Jim?” “Armidale.” “I wondered”, she said. You see, she used to work for the Business Enterprise Centre in the 1990s. Just across from my desk is a bloke whose family comes from Kelly’s Plains. “We are having a reunion”, he says. “I have never been there. I would like to go”.

Across the partition is a colleague who was born in Bundarra. He talks of the Bundarra Public School athletics team going to the big city (Armidale) for sporting events. “I didn’t have running shoes”, he says. “The Armidale boys did”. I have written several Bundarra columns just for him.

Nick sits just over my shoulder. He is married to a Greek girl from one of the former Greek café owning families in Armidale.

Four people, each with very different memories of and connections to Armidale and the North. The same pattern could be seen a week back at the launch of Came to New England. Published to mark last year’s 75th anniversary of the University College, the book’s thirty seven authors tell differing stories of connection with institution and place that span the decades since establishment.

I said that I was obsessive. Most local or regional historians are, for we are trying to capture and tell the stories that form our collective past. These form the things that bind.

In my columns on the history of the New England fight for self-government I traced the development of a sense of Northern identity, of connections that bind. By the end of the 1920s these were well established, providing a framework for local action. Then from the War came waves of economic and demographic change.

In 1950, every Northern newspaper or radio station was locally owned, as was TV when it arrived. This local ownership provided the base for Victor Thompson’s 1920 newspaper new state campaign. By 2000, most of the newspapers, all the radio station, all the TV stations were externally owned and controlled. The North had lost its voice.

From 1980, mass migration to the North Coast transformed the North’s population. In ten years, the population of the Tweed Valley grew by more than the total population of the Northern Tablelands.

This influx broke the previous balance between coast and inland, reducing the inland to a population rump. The old family connections and shared stories were broken, replaced by new connections and stories to places elsewhere.

In future columns I will return to the story of the Northern fight for self-government, now set in the context of the rise and fall of the sense of Northern identity.

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 1 October 2014, the next in a series telling the story of the Northern or New England self-government moment. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014.

If you want to follow the story of the Northern or New England self-government movement, this is the entry post for the whole series

History revisited – threads in New England’s history

In my last column, I took the story of the North’s fight for self-government through to the end of the 1920s. Now we plunge into the tumultuous story of the Depression in which the North came within an inch of formal forced secession from New South Wales. This was also the time in which the term New England first started to be used to describe the broader North.

I suspect that some readers may be surprised at just how long it is taking to tell the story of the North’s fight for self-government. You shouldn’t be. This is a fight that has continued for over 150 years, one that is inextricably entwined with Northern history.

Still, to give you a break while also setting a context, I thought that I might stand back from the main story and talk about themes in New England history. You see, even now with all the changes, that’s what shapes us.

Geography shaped Aboriginal New England. Obviously, there was no such thing as Aboriginal New England. New England or the North is a European construct. But the core pattern of the Tablelands with its originating rivers still shaped Aboriginal life.

When the Europeans arrived, settlement came in two broad streams: an inland stream mainly from the Hunter north and then across to the coast; and then a coast stream by ship up the river valleys north and then across into the inland.

This pattern formed New England life, creating overlapping north-south and east-west axes. The north-south axis centered first on Morpeth-Maitland and then on Newcastle with the expansion of the Great Northern Railway; the east-west axis centered on the various river ports and especially Grafton.

Separatist support was strongest along the east-west axis, for that was the area that was most adversely affected by Sydney centralising policies that effectively impeded the development of east-west linkages and trade. However, separatist support also extended along the north-south axis as far south as Maitland, for that was the area most affected by Sydney centralisation policies that diverted trade to Sydney after the opening of the railway bridge over the Hawkesbury region.

In all his, the sense of Northern identity was lowest in Newcastle and the lower Hunter and from the Manning Valley south.

Newcastle did see itself in Northern terms, but this was muted by the rise of coal mining. The coal owners and the miners saw the world in very different terms from those living further north. On the coast, from the Manning Valley south the focus was on Sydney with few Northern linkages.

This pattern was reflected in the 1920s’ separatist campaigns. It was also reflected in the 1967 plebiscite vote on self-government.

Movement of people along both the north-south and east-west axis created linkages of kith and kin. Simply put, we all had relatives elsewhere in the North. The establishment of the Armidale Teachers’ College and New England University College reinforced this pattern, for it brought together kids from across the North. This further facilitated the growth of Northern identity,

Then from 1980 came fundamental demographic shifts, the rise of the coast, that would progressively erode that sense of Northerness. I will look at this in my next column.

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 24 September 2014, the next in a series telling the story of the Northern or New England self-government moment. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014.

If you want to follow the story of the Northern or New England self-government movement, this is the entry post for the whole series

Updating New England’s History

I intend to update this blog over the next week or so. I make this point only because I will be bringing material up at the date it which it should have appeared, not the current date. This may lead to some strange feeds!

History revisited – the Cohen Commission’s silver lining

Even at the time, the 1925 Cohen Commission Report into new states was not as devastating as it seemed. Northern and, more broadly, country grievances had been documented. The NSW Treasury financial assumptions and analysis accepted by the Commission were open to severe challenge, although some of the analytical tools that would assist this such as the concept of the multiplier had yet to be developed. The Report’s biases themselves were clearly documented. 

All this was recognised by the Melbourne Age in a remarkably sympathetic editorial. The unfavourable report should not come as a surprise, the paper suggested, nor was it a reason for slackening effort. “The commission represented the interests of one State or part of a State …… The case for new States is undeniably strong.”

Perhaps most importantly of all, the five years’ campaigning since Victor Thompson launched his newspaper campaign had created a genuine sense of Northern identity. This went some distance towards overcoming the very powerful local parochialisms that had, and still do, so poison efforts at broader Northern cooperation. Armidale would benefit greatly as a consequence.

Over the first half of 1926, David Drummond returned to the fight with a series of articles in Country Life on constitutional reform. These were published later in 1926 under the title Constitutional Changes in Australia.

The result could hardly be classified as literature: Drummond’s lack of formal education was still apparent in his sometimes clumsy construction, while the articles were repetitive and written in a popular style. However, they were a detailed statement of the separatist position that, with modifications, has held to the present day.

In parallel, Drummond along with other Northern leaders turned to what would later be called the functional approach to new states, the creation of the structures and institutions necessary to support Northern self government. In doing so, they were supported by the local press and drew on the links and loyalties created over the previous five years.

The elections of October 1927 saw the defeat of the first Lang Government and its replacement by a Nationalist- Country Party coalition. The Progressive Party had changed its name to better reflect its country base.

The Northern Country Party ministers including Drummond as Minister for Public Instruction came to office with a long to do list.

One of the immediate tangible results was the 1928 creation of the Armidale Teachers’ College (photo) as a first step towards the creation of a Northern university. Work also began on the construction of the Guyra-Dorrigo railway, pursuing another long-held Northern dream.

This Indian Summer would prove brief, swept away by the Great Depression. As it faded, the ground was being laid for the next and still more dramatic burst of new state agitation.

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 10 September 2014, the next in a series telling the story of the Northern or New England self-government moment. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014.

If you want to follow the story of the Northern or New England self-government movement, this is the entry post for the whole series

Janine Rizetti, family reconstruction and network analysis

On the Resident Judge of Port Phillip, Janine Rizetti’s ‘Connecting’ at the masterclass provides a report on her attendance at a history master class at the University of Tasmania. It’s an interesting piece and I wish that I had been able to attend.

In some earlier posts (here, is an example) I mentioned the work that Allan Atkinson and Norma Townsend had done on family reconstruction, the painstaking recreation of local life through examination of families and the linkages  between them. This seems to be very similar in some ways to the network study approach discussed in Hobart, the examination of connections between people, although here the focus is on connections across space as compared to a narrowly defined local area. The connection comes from the examination of patterns and linkages.

All very interesting.

History revisited – the Cohen Commission: outmanoeuvred, the New England new state movement goes down

Premier Sir George Fuller may have been forced to accept Drummond’s resolution calling for a Royal Commission into the creation of new states but, fundamentally opposed to the idea of breaking up NSW, Fuller had no intention of making things easy for the new state protagonists,

The Northerners had wanted a Commission to lay down the boundaries for their state. Instead, the terms of reference announced in April 1924 required the new staters to pass three main tests: whether new states were practicable; if so, whether they were desirable; and whether the same ends could not be achieved another way.

These tests made the membership of the Commission vitally important, for unsympathetic appointees had three different if related grounds for rejection. The omens here were not encouraging.

Three of the five commissioners including Grafton born Justice Cohen (photo) as chair had deep connections with the Nationalist Party. Even more important was the appointment of W A Holman (photo) as counsel to assist the inquiry, supported by H S Nicholas. As Premier, Holman had clashed with the new staters while his political career had been effectively destroyed by those same Progressives who were now the chief protagonists of the new state cause.

The Northerners organised thoroughly for the task ahead. It was agreed that Thompson would organise the general evidence, while Page as Commonwealth Treasurer preparing the necessary financial data. Guidelines were prepared for witnesses, with local leagues provided on-ground support.

It was clear from the first hearings that the Movement was on trial as Holman used his considerable forensic skills to build the case against. The Commission became a duel between Thompson leading for the Movement and Holman.

Thompson believed that he was winning. This view was not shared by other members of the Northern leadership group. On 6 June 1924, an alarmed Alf Pollack wrote twice to Page stressing the need for expert cross-examination, arguing that Thompson could not provide it.

The hearings also provoked scattered opposition from local opponents of the self-government cause, opposition that was played up by the metropolitan media covering the Commission. But most important of all were debates over financial viability.

Page had argued that a Northern new state would have an annual surplus of 416,064 pounds. NSW Treasury representative Bertram Stevens argued that revenues would be25 per cent lower than Page’s projections, costs 40 per cent higher.

Recognising that this was potentially devastating. Page drew on the resources of his own Department. A Treasury official analysed Steven’s evidence, while the Department also collected comparative material on costs in other jurisdictions.

In the end, it was all in vain. The Commission accepted Holman’s arguments and the State Treasury estimates, ruling against the Movement on all counts. New states were neither desirable nor practical. Existing defects in the machinery of government should be remedied by a system of district councils with delegated powers.

Exhausted, the movements elsewhere in NSW collapsed, while even the stronger Northern Movement was reduced to a shadow of its former strength.

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 3 September 2014, the next in a series telling the story of the Northern or New England self-government moment. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014.

If you want to follow the story of the Northern or New England self-government movement, this is the entry post for the whole series

History revisited – Progressives force George Fuller to strike New England self government deal

It will already be clear that the story of the North’s fight for self-government is long and complex. The 1920s are important in that long story because it was then that the arguments and issues that would dominate future debate were defined.

It is sad but true that the only new issue in present discussions on the future of the Australian Federation is the degree of fiscal imbalance created by the Commonwealth’s overwhelming financial power. Every other issue, everyone one of the solutions put forward, every argument for or against each solution, was fully canvassed in the 1920s and then repeated seriatim over coming decades.

I mention this because we are now coming in our story to the creation of the Cohen Royal Commission into New States. This was seen, correctly, as a considerable achievement. However, it was also one that would bring the new state movement to its knees.

In March 1920, the Progressive Party had campaigned as a new broom. However, the new Party was actually an uneasy amalgam of very experienced Parliamentarians who saw political power as an end and the new and younger country members such as Bruxner or Drummond who saw political power as a means to an end, the achievement of their objectives and aspirations.

On 5 October 1920 Labor Premier John Storey died, being replaced by James Dooley. Storey’s death left the Assembly evenly balanced. Sensing an opportunity, Nationalist Liberal leader George Fuller persuaded some of the Progressives to join him to create a Nationalist-Progressive Coalition to overthrow the Government.

The move failed, but split the Progressive Party down the middle, with the younger country members led by Bruxner refusing to have anything to do with the deal. Initially their fate was uncertain, but their stand was finally backed by the Progressive Party organisation.

The elections of March 1922 saw the two wings of the Progressive Party pitted against each other. Following the elections, the Nationalist- Coalitionists became the largest party group, but did not have a majority. Fuller (photo) therefore formed a minority government. 

The True Blue Progressives were in a difficult position. Their party organisation and key backers including the Graziers’ Association would not allow them to support the Labor Party. Aware of this, Fuller did his best to ignore the presence of the True Blue Progressives.

The True Blues responded by making life miserable for the Government while campaigning on causes dear to their hearts, including new states. Matters came to a head in November 1923 when the Progressives combined with Labor, independent and dissident Coalitionists to defeat the Government during the Estimates debate.

Sir George Fuller had had enough. A deal was struck in which the Progressives agreed to provide general support to the Government in return for undertakings that included a Royal Commission into New States.

In December 1923, Drummond was able to move a successful motion in the Assembly calling for the creation of the Royal Commission. The Cohen Commission was born.

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 27 August   2014, the next in a series telling the story of the Northern or New England self-government moment. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014.

If you want to follow the story of the Northern or New England self-government movement, this is the entry post for the whole series

History revisited – Queensland joins fight for self government

By December 1920, the new state fire that Victor Thompson had lit in January 1920 may, as Earle Page said, have burnt well, but the new Movement still had to turn that heat into reality.

The events that followed over the next four years are complex, deeply entwined in local, state and Federal politics. I can only sketch some of the key features.

The embryo movement formed at the Glen Innes convention in August 1920 was transformed into a full scale movement that, by the end of 1921, had 200 leagues across the North.

Recognising the need for national support, the Northern leadership took the subdivision cause onto the road. They reached out into Queensland where support for separation was already strong in Central and Northern Queensland. Here they were joined by Labor politician and later Prime Minister Frank Forde (photo)  who, as member for Rockhampton in the State Parliament, had been actively promoting the subdivision of Queensland.

In Southern New South Wales, the Northern campaigners were successful in creating an active movement seeking statehood for the Riverina. Then, in July 1922, a national new state conference was held at Albury. Convened jointly by the Riverina and Northern Movements, the conference aimed to coordinate the activities of the various separation movements that had sprung up as a result of the Northerners’ campaign.

Attended by representatives including seven parliamentarians from twelve organisations covering NSW, Queensland, Victoria and Western Australia, it formed an All Australian New States Movement with Earle Page as President, Victor Thompson as secretary.

Also in July 1922, Frank Forde successfully moved a motion in the Queensland Parliament calling for constitutional change to allow the formation of new states, while Drummond moved a motion in the NSW Parliament calling for immediate action to create a new state in Northern New South Wales.

This motion was opposed by the Labor opposition who argued that any subdivision should take place only in the context of an overall revision of the Federal Constitution that would strengthen Federal powers and replace the states with provinces.

The Government’s position was more complicated. The Premier conceded that new states were inevitable in the longer term, but also felt that it was simply unreasonable to expect members to agree to a motion that would mean loss of territory for NSW. An amendment was therefore moved and passed asking the Federal Government to convene a convention to consider the question, thus neatly shelving the issue.

The Federal elections of December 1922 saw the election of new staters P P Abbott to the Senate, Victor Thompson to the House of Representatives as member for New England. It also saw the emergence of the Country Party in a position of balance of power.

Page, now Country Party Leader, was determined to assert country interests. He demanded that the new Government be a joint one, a coalition of equals. The result was the formation of the Bruce-Page ministry.

The door now seemed open to real action to force self-government for New England. It wasn’t to be as easy as that.

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 20 August   2014, the next in a series telling the story of the Northern or New England self-government moment. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014.

If you want to follow the story of the Northern or New England self-government movement, this is the entry post for the whole series

History revisited – Thompson’s separatist fire burns well

Tamworth Observer editor Victor Thompson could not have foreseen the scale of impact of the Northern self-government campaign he launched through the paper in January 1920. Over 1920, the movement grew and grew.

Following the initial success of the Thompson campaign, a meeting of Northern newspapers held at Glen Innes in March 1920 agreed to form a New State Press League and Press Propaganda Executive with Thompson as secretary to direct an intensive propaganda campaign.

Over the next twelve months, the twenty-seven newspapers that had joined the League funded the Propaganda Executive to distribute news and editorial material to Northern newspapers. By August 1920, sixty newspapers from the Upper Hunter to the border were publishing League material.

The Thompson campaign coincided with campaigning for the NSW State election.

Earle Page had already been elected to the Federal Parliament in 1918 as member for Cowper representing the newly formed County Party. Now the March State election saw the election of a number of members for the newly formed Progressive Party including Mick Bruxner and David Drummond who had specifically campaigned on the new state cause.

In April 1920, the Tamworth Municipal Council circularised other councils in the North asking for an expression of opinion on the desirability of new states. Many reported enthusiastic support and followed Tamworth’s example by calling public meetings to launch new state leagues. By the end of May, fifty four councils were prepared to take action.

The Northern parliamentarians, particularly Page, Bruxner and Drummond helped the cause by speaking on tour and by assisting in the establishment of local leagues.

In late May, Drummond was the main speaker at a 5,000 strong Tamworth rally. The rally was preceded by a procession more than a mile long including 500 children clad in white. Denied a half holiday for the event, the children deserted school to march anyway.

In August, a Glen Innes conference appointed a provisional central executive for the newly forming Northern New State Movement pending a full convention to be held in Armidale. Following this, Progressive Party Parliamentarians Raymond Perdriau and David Drummond were appointed to organise the North Coast and Inland respectively.

December saw the publication of what would come to be called the new state bible, Australia Subdivided. Largely edited by Glen Innes Examiner editor Ernest Sommerlad with a foreword signed by seven parliamentarians, Australia Subdivided provided a detailed presentation of the new state case. It also bemoaned the absence of teachers’ colleges or universities in the North, a view that would be of considerable importance to Armidale’s future.

At year’s end, Page could fairly write to Thompson “Altogether, I think that you will be satisfied with the results of your labours this year. The fire you started has travelled far, and burnt well.”

The fire had indeed burnt well. However, now the new Movement faced major challenges in turning the dream into practical reality.

Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 13 August   2014, the next in a series telling the story of the Northern or New England self-government moment. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because they are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014.

If you want to follow the story of the Northern or New England self-government movement, this is the entry post for the whole series