All About Palmer's Channel

The following mentions my great-grandfather Albert and his father John.

I remember the homestead and have vague memories of being inside. It stood out because it had sandstone bricks and I recall one or more stained glass windows internally. I also recall the orchard. One day on my way home from school my mate Rocky Marshall and I got sprung helping ourselves to its wares. I found out many years later that Dad had also got sprung in the same orchard. That is a story I have told previously.

All About Palmer's Channel.

Palmers Channel forms the connecting link between the Clarence River and the Wollewoyah [Wooloweyah] Estuary. It branches off from the river about seven miles from the Heads, and takes a serpentine course in a south easterly direction until it joins the said Estuary. Along the banks are the homesteads of a thrifty population. The land through which the Channel flows is fair agricultural and pastoral soil, perhaps not noted for its fertility, which redounds all the more credit upon the industrious inhabitants who established comfortable homes thereon. This locality in times gone by was noted for the sociableness of its people. Being as they were, isolated so far as passenger boat or rail commutation was concerned, and depending upon pulling boats and horseback travelling, it will be readily admitted that the people were disinclined to leave home for pleasure, and therefore arranged for recreation at home. The chief pastime and recreation was dancing. And as a consequence almost everyone became proficient in the fantastic art. Dancing was always in order. The music was generally the concertina. But this item was not of much importance; if a few notes were missing, and a few more out of tune, that was nothing. Nor was much importance attached to the floor on which dances were held; anything near the mark at all was satisfactory. The person who could manipulate the keys of a concertina was an honored individual and a welcome visitor at all times— more honored I verily believe that the Mayor of your Town, his robes notwithstanding. Every consideration was paid to the musician. As a means of relieving him Someone who could whistle well would provide music while he had a dance! This form of amusement was carried on under the supervision of the old folk.

Although they countenanced the thing, yet the young had to observe certain tactics. The concertina player would, when approaching the house he intended visiting, carefully place his instrument away in a barn, or stable, or leave it to the protection of a stool of cane, and entering the house empty-handed, would enter into sociable chat with the heads of the family, hardly noticing the young folk. Carefully training the moods of the pater and mater in a jovial vein, he would give the wink to one of the young fellows, and in would come the music, when the old folk would huddle off to bed. The people lived in touch with one another, all on the same footing; class distinctions were unknown. They worked together. In harvesting time they would gather round the barn of the harvester of maize and help to husk out at night, after which the barn would be cleared and a dance followed. Tactics had often to be put into execution, for sometimes the anxious corn grower would be inclined to prolong the husking operation. In a case like this someone would contrive to knock over the lamp with a cob of corn. This would remind the proprietor that the hour was late. Everyone was willing and ready to assist. If a resident had a bullock to kill or calves to brand, or a cow bogged, or a young horse to break in, all he had to do was coo-ee. or whistle or wave to his neighbor, and willing hands would come forward, it was wonderful the harmony that existed. Holidays were often spent picnicking across the lake, all in boats with gay rowers, large hampers and pretty girls, all so jolly. How romantic! How delightful! Strong brave fellows with muscles like a steam engine who could feather the sculls with grace and ease. Those were the days, reader, days of complete rustic enjoyment. But 'alas!  A change has come about. The march of society has (strange to say) destroyed the harmony. So and so got a piano, or a buggy or a new house, and pride (which precedes a fall) swelled the possessors' breasts and they have become too big for the shoes they wear. Hence a distinction was created.

The land on Palmer's Channel rose very high in price some 15 years ago, but in common with other parts of the river it again fell very low. A case in point: A farmer purchased a farm at £1400, but failed to meet the financial obligations and lost the property. That property is how valued at £450, and the original purchaser is again negotiating to repurchase at that figure. The locality under notice is noted for its salubrious climate, and its people generally enjoy the best of health. One old lady, 80 years of age and hale and hearty, lived on Palmer's Channel for 35 years and only saw the lake once and Yamba twice.

Now a few words about the dwellings. Although the majority are very comfortable a few call for special mention, one of which is that of Mr, John Marsh. This homestead is equal to anything on the Lower Clarence. The orchard is well stocked with a great variety of fruit, a glance at which will convey to the spectator that the proprietor understands all about fruit. The house is of brick, and very roomy and ornamental. Once the visitor enters the homestead of Mr. George Green he feels that he is associated with a home of industry, backed by intelligence. Mr. Green takes first place amongst our apiarists, having over 200 hives. His orchard and flower garden gratify the eye, while his poultry accommodation is splendid. Our young men should take pattern from those well-kept homes, and would find- it very profitable to imitate them. Coming to the factories, we can't report upon many. At one time this small place possessed half-a-dozen or more sugar factories, but all have failed, leaving gutted out sheds in some instances as a monument of inexperience, to which the collapse can only be attributed. There still remains one factory — not a sugar factory, but a broom factory— the property of Mr. Albert Marsh, who is entering into the industry with more vigor than ever. Mr. Marsh also manages a farm, and grows nearly all his own millet. Considerable trouble was experienced in the drying of the millet, but now Mr. Marsh has surmounted the trouble by large drying sheds, in which the millet will be protected from bad weather. A first-class article is turned out — this can be gathered from the fact that Mr. Marsh's brooms have taken prizes time and again. Mr. Marsh has been following the industry for years and finds it payable, and purposes devoting even more attention to it in the future. The output finds a ready market on the river, most of it going to Grafton.

Next time I will have something interesting to say about new canes that have been grown on Palmer's Channel.

Copied From: Clarence River Advocate (NSW : 1898 - 1949), Friday 19 April 1901, page 4, (by Our Special)