Thanks to Terry Metherell for drawing my attention to an article which appeared in the Brisbane Courier, Tuesday 1 January 1878. Titled “A Queenslander in Sydney”, it is a long piece about the writer’s impressions of Sydney. It includes a description of Manly’s Fairy Bower, then still relatively unspoiled, and there is also this account of the entertainment on offer at Manly on Boxing Day, 1877:
“But, if Christmas Day was calm, Boxing Day was not. Once more the scene shifts to Manly Beach, and we are on the verandah of the Pier Hotel, and the steamers, and the barrel organs, and the German band, and the holiday folks, are coming in: Emu, and Breadalbane, Goolwa, Phantom, and Royal Alfred, ‘one down, 'tither come on,’ come looming round the Middle Head, disgorge cargo and are off again for more in a merry follow-my-leader style. Buckets of ‘prog’ [food], guns, fishing tackle, and babies form the chief impedimenta of the ‘camp followers,’ and a nervous invalid accustomed to the quietude of Cleveland or (say) of Bowen, would be startled out of seven years' growth by the bustling noise and scene... One melancholy death occurred on Boxing Day, at Manly Beach. There is rigged out from the pier, like the boom from the Wolverine, a spar, well-greased; and at the end of it is slung a four-dozen case containing a pig, to be the prize of him who first walks the pole and gets him. After about a couple of dozen spills off the greased spar and into the water, one daring cornstalk [youth] hugged the boom and got the pig out, and it fell into the water, in the clutches of the swimmers, who, in disputing the prize, six at each leg and two at each ear soon drowned it; and, this we believe was the only life lost at Manly Beach during Boxing Day.”
“But, if Christmas Day was calm, Boxing Day was not. Once more the scene shifts to Manly Beach, and we are on the verandah of the Pier Hotel, and the steamers, and the barrel organs, and the German band, and the holiday folks, are coming in: Emu, and Breadalbane, Goolwa, Phantom, and Royal Alfred, ‘one down, 'tither come on,’ come looming round the Middle Head, disgorge cargo and are off again for more in a merry follow-my-leader style. Buckets of ‘prog’ [food], guns, fishing tackle, and babies form the chief impedimenta of the ‘camp followers,’ and a nervous invalid accustomed to the quietude of Cleveland or (say) of Bowen, would be startled out of seven years' growth by the bustling noise and scene... One melancholy death occurred on Boxing Day, at Manly Beach. There is rigged out from the pier, like the boom from the Wolverine, a spar, well-greased; and at the end of it is slung a four-dozen case containing a pig, to be the prize of him who first walks the pole and gets him. After about a couple of dozen spills off the greased spar and into the water, one daring cornstalk [youth] hugged the boom and got the pig out, and it fell into the water, in the clutches of the swimmers, who, in disputing the prize, six at each leg and two at each ear soon drowned it; and, this we believe was the only life lost at Manly Beach during Boxing Day.”
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