BATHURST IN THE 1830's

by an anonymous widow
From the Bathurst Times, 1 February 1902

THE RIVER

The most ardent admirers of the City of the Plains can hardly claim to-day that the river, in the vicinity of the town, is a thing of beauty. In the thirties however, and for long after, fringes of the fine swamp oaks on both banks gave it a charm which one must now travel miles up or down to find. The trees disappeared in time through the encroachments of the river, but not before they had been sadly disfigured by the ravages of soldiers and citizens, who tore down the branches to provide themselves with cheap and effective brooms. Long after most of them had disappeared a huge one stood almost in the middle of the river all by itself. During a flood a young clerk attempted to cross the stream on horseback. The horse was swept of his feet and drowned, and the youth with difficulty reached the tree, where he put in the greater part of a night and day before he was discovered and rescued. In great floods, the Vale Creek and river, between them, shut the townspeople in. One of these floods gave an expanse of water extending from the bottom of Hereford Hill to Esrom House. This was the great flood of '44, when Mr. George Ranken did his splendid piece of rescue work. An old couple, of the name of Dwyer, lived on the bank of the river, not far from the site the Ranken Bridge no occupies. The old man, Con., had a small tan pit, and his wife, Mary, had been nurse in the Ranken family.

Besides the Saltram Creek, there was a millrace on the Kelloshiel side, some two and a half miles long, constructed by Mr. Ranken in what must have been an old bed of the river running through kelloshiel, Saltram, and part of Alloway Bank. In flood time this made a second stream quite as strong and deep as the river itself. Between these two streams the old folks wee hemmed in, and as the waters continued to rise, it was evident that in a short time there would be but one stream, which would sweep before it the frail cottage and its occupants.

Mr. George Ranken, accompanied by his son, Mr. James (then a lad of 17), planned a rescue for his imperilled tenants. On the further bank of the millrace stream stood a huge and solitary swamp oak, between which and the cottage there lay a hundred yards or so of water of varying depth, but without much current. Mr. Ranken saw that if a rope could be fixed to this tree, the work of rescue would be comparatively easy.

A man in his employment of the name of Hollandsworth volunteered to swim the current, and, with a rope tied round his waist, plunged into the seething waters. Strong man as he was, the stream was too much for him, and shortly he gave up and went under. Willing hands quickly dragged him ashore. He was landed more dead than alive, and died three days later.

After Hollandsworth's attempt no one seemed anxious to volunteer, so Mr. Ranken tied the rope round his own body, and, disregarding the expostulations of the crowd on the bank, essayed the raging current. After a hard struggle, he reached the tree, fixed the rope to it, and, partly wading, partly swimming, in the quieter waters between the banks, reached the cottage. He found his old nurse sitting on a bed, with a candle in one hand (busy with her prayers) and a quart-pot in the other, bailing the water out of the window, the good woman's motto evidently being Ora et labora. Both were landed safely, the only mishap being that the old man, in his transit, went under once or twice and swallowed more water than he cared for. Mr. Ranken, none the worse for his exertions, came up to Kelso, and rescued another man from a watery grave the same day.

In '55 the Denison and Eglinton bridges were opened, and in June, '67, the Denison Bridge was swept away, and in its career down stream, carried away the bridge on which Mr. Ranken had expended much time and money.

The destruction of the Denison Bridge was a most dramatic thing, and just escaped being most tragic. It was crowded with people watching the racing flood and the labours of the men who were trying to guide the great logs, that came down, past the supports of the bridge. Suddenly the middle arch cracked ominously and began to give way, the crowd parted, and rushed to the nearest bank. They were hardly on land, when the whole structure went with a thundering roar. those who, in their hurry, made for the Kelso side, had to remain there two or three days till it was possible to get back to Bathurst.