Melbourne's Homeopathic Hospital...or Prince Henry's Hospital, take your pick.

 This post is due to a niggling curiosity of mine and a question or 3 from Andrew.

Yes, for a whole 66 years Marvellous Melbourne was blessed with a Homeopathic Hospital, from the moment a free Melbourne Homeopathic Dispensary opened in 1869 until the hospital itself was closed in 1934.
Quackery, did I hear you say?
Nay, good reader, twas none of the sort!
The Homeopathic Hospital was created and run by many dedicated professionals, as the Colony of Port Phillip had a great many Homeopathic doctors as residents since the gold rushes of the 1850's.

Many homeopathic doctors settled in Victoria and soon had large, successful practices, the majority choosing Collins St (Melbourne's equivalent of London's Harley St) to hang their shingle.
The 1861 census showed that out of 592 medical practitioners only 61 were medical doctors with the rest being midwives and homeopaths.
Logic dictates there wouldn't be so many if it was a load of old cow pats.

In 1855 the first Homeopathic Dispensary was established at 85 Collins Street and, after several changes of ownership, it moved to 90 Collins Street - obviously staying in the medical precinct where all the homeopaths had their rooms.
A group of homeopaths got together and had a meeting on October 30th, 1869 where they decided to establish a dispensary to treat people for free (goodness, imagine that!); they didn't muck about as they had rented a house at 153 Collins St for the Melbourne Homeopathic Dispensary and opened it's doors by November 22.

The year 1874 saw that the Homeopathic Committee was filled by 15 very influential Melbourne women who agitated for a homeopathic hospital; never underestimate the power of women for they not only got the Melbourne Homeopathic Dispensary on their side but the good ladies got themselves a Govt grant of land in St Kilda Road.
These ladies were making history; while the permanent hospital was being built, a temporary one was run from a 3 storey house at 17 Spring St which consisted of 14 beds and an Outpatients Dept with it being the very first homeopathic hospital in the Southern Hemisphere. (See above for not underestimating the power of women).

The foundation stone of the hospital was laid by the Gov of Victoria in 1882 and opened later that year.
Want to see what an architectural beauty, in style, grace and form, that once welcomed the sick through its doors?
Click HERE...or HERE...or HERE.
Yes, it was gorgeous. *sigh*

In 1889 yet another typhoid epidemic swept Melbourne (or Smellbourne as it came to be known before a decent sewerage system was built) with almost all of the hosiptals within Melbourne swamped with ill patients.
The Melbourne Hospital (a "traditional" medical hospital) treated 351 patients with a mortality rate of 22%, while the Homeopathic Hospital treated 408 with a mortality rate less than half of the Melbourne Hosptial's, being 10%
But by then the Homeopathic Hospital was having difficulty attracting new doctors. Many came from England - and their 5 year degree was automatically recognised throughout Oz - but those from America - with their 4 year degree - were not allowed to register and soon upped sticks and left.
Although the Medical Board disregarded this archiac rule, and generously allowed a whole 1 homeopath per year to be registered if they came from Boston or New York, the word had got out internationally and very few American homeopathic doctors came to Oz.
The Victorian Medical Board drove another nail in the Homeopathic Hospital's coffin by writing up a "code of ethics" in 1906 which banned outright any medical doctor from working with a homeopathic collegue.

Making history again, Dr Janet Cooper became the first female doctor at the Homeopathic Hospital in 1917. She later went on to become the first female Mayor of South Melbourne and was awarded an OBE for her extensive welfare work.

1924 saw the death knell tolling as allopathic doctors - traditional medical doctors - allowed to practice at the Homeopathic Hospital due to a drastic shortage of those who had homeopathic training.
As the Homeopathic Hospital had previously had no use for labs or equipment such as X-ray machines, the medical doctors kicked up a fuss and the Homeopathic Hospital was no more.
By Royal decree from King George V himself it became titled as Prince Henry's Hospital, a traditional medical hospital.

It was, originally, to have been named Prince George's Hospital but the Prince George of the time got himself shackled in engagement so his brother Prince Henry (Duke of Gloucester) popped along to Melbourne in his place, opened the Shrine of Remembrance and his papa decreed that the hospital be named after him.

That beautiful ediface of the Homeopathic Hospital was *gag* demolished to make room for THIS.
While it was not as pretty as its predecessor, I've been told by many a nurse who worked there that the atmosphere at Prince Henry's was friendly, supportive and a great place to work.

Sadly, it lasted only 60 years, just 6 years shy of the Homeopathic Hospital lifetime, being torn down for more damn roadways in 1994.

Donkeywoman's Gully - go on, find it, I dare you!

Yep, go on; hop onto Google Maps and see if you can find Donkeywoman's Gully in Victoria (or any where else for that matter!).
Give up, yet?
*tapping foot, looking at watch*
Oh, alright, it was properly known as Lamplough.
Yes, you will find it on Google Maps.
No, you won't find a seething metropolis there.

Lamplough was another town born from the galloping blucher boots of miners thirsting after gold, and into Donkeywoman's Gully they trotted in November 1859 when a couple of Welsh brothers stumbled over the glittery stuff.
In it's early debut stages as a mining field Lamplough went by the moniker Clare Castle Diggings, named after the solitary pub in the area (which was near local miners tents - good marketing!).

When the word went out about the gold find they came running from all directions literally, swelling the population of the tents around the pub from 4 miners to 500 overnight, to 3,000 the next day and then 10,000 in the following two days.
Within a month the National Bank had a branch opened there, the streets were covered in gravel to control the dust,a post office was built, the police had a camp, the streets had been surveyed, they even had their own newspaper being published.
Soon it had the usual baubles any self-respecting town decorated itself with ; general stores, pubs, billard halls, churches, schools, theatres, a police court with the usual array of barristers, brewery, bowling green, and Uncle Tom Cobbley and all.

But just as quickly as it had sprung up, Lamplough began disappearing; with new gold strikes found further afield barely 1 year after it had become established overnight Lamplough was pulled apart at the seams with stores, churches, schools and all buildings torn down to be erected on the next big paying gold diggings.

16,000 people populated a town that has left barely a sign it ever existed.
There's a few houses scattered willy-nilly along the Sunraysia Hwy but Lamplough and its Commercial Street, that stretched for a mile with pubs, pubs, grog shantys, general stores, more pubs and every kind of business, has long since departed.
The bush has reclaimed Donkeywoman's Gully.

Cockle Steam Train...but no Molly Malone.

Molly Malone might have been trundling a barrow through streets broad and narrow but the Cockle Steam Train can beat that any day.
All the poppets in South Oz who lived near Victor Harbour would hop on board a horse-drawn train to Goolwa and trip lightly down to the beach to collect those yummy cockles (but not mussles) from near the mouth of the Murray River.

In 1854 The Powers That Be listened to those with commonsense (they used to do that more frequently back then) and built what was the first public railway with steel tracks in Oz to service not just those seafood junkies but to connect the trade on the Murray River with Port Elliot and Victor Harbour.
Steam engines took over the job from the gee-gees in 1884 and have been doing the work ever since.

You can click HERE for more info on times, tickets and trivia.
But there'll be no fishmongers nor links to Dublin's fair city.

Rottnest Island Horse-drawn Tram

Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away there was an island that was full of rats.
No, seriously the native quokkas were mistaken for rats (easy error, made the boo-boo myself a few times as they were rooting around in my wardrobe) and the Dutch called it Rottnest Island.

The hoi polloi were attracted to sea travel, the bracing sea air and watching the queer rats quokkas gambol and romp about the lump of sand just off the Westralia coast.
Now, despite it being a prison, tourists were popping over to Rottnest Island at an alarming rate in private boats from the early 1900's until some clever clogs worked out how to make it pay for them and thus began the ferry services in 1902.

Shortly after this tram tracks were gracefully plonked in the sand with a horse-drawn tram collecting the tourists and transporting them to other parts of the isle.
You can see a picture HERE of the horse-tram to prove I'm not making this up, or had wild dreams from eating gherkins after 10pm.

Sadly the motor vehicle invention replaced the sedate horse-trams in 1925, with most of the original track being recycled at the Perth Zoo.
But they did leave a few little sections which you can hunt out next time you pop over to watch the rats quokkas playing by the seaside.

Victor Harbour Horse-drawn Tram still going since 1894.

But I'm sure they've changed the dobbins a few times since they began.

A lovely old style of transport still working it's magic on tourists to Granite Island from Victor Harbour in South Oz.
Once upon a time Victor Harbour thought it was in the running to become the capital of the South Oz colony, so it built the causeway to Granite Island on which the neddies still clip-clop today.
If you're up on your geography you'll know that Adelaide, not Victor Harbour, got to wear the capital crown of the colony but it's good to know the movers and shakers of the losing town didn't just throw everything out and kept the horse-drawn tram that entices thousands to the region every day.
You can feast your eyes on pictures and info HERE, HERE, HERE and HERE.

Codrington - where bushranging is honoured in a town that never was.

If you're tootling down the Princes Hwy to Portland you'll pass through an area called Codrington.
There are a few houses there, set well back from the road, but no bustling, busy service town.
Nothing but paddocks, trees, grass, cows, paddocks, more cows, and a few more trees.
After Port Fairy and Yambuk but before Portland.
Yes, that's the long stretch of countryside I mean!

Back in 1850 a chappie by the very high-falutin' sounding name of Codrington Revingstone took to bushranging.
It was a smart career choice as he was rather talented in this field and he also had the bottle for deering-do.
Codrington robbed the mail coach on June 29, 1850, but was quickly arrested.
(Don't fret, he was the one who got away).
While he was in police custody on board the ship "Cecelia" in Warrnambool Bay waiting to sail to Melbourne, a court trial and, inevitable, gaol, on August 10 Codrington did a successful bunk.
The policeman, Constable Hogan, did try to get some shots off at the departing bushranger but his powder was damp (I can't stand it when my powder gets damp) and Codrington made it to shore safely.
Barely 2 days later Codrington was up to his old tricks and robbed the mail coach again just near the scene of his first robbery. The bushranger was feeling quite chipper as he informed the mailman that all the constabulary were "a set of applewomen".
Not too sure what this means but I don't think it was meant to be complimentary.
Anyway, Codrington kept his head down and didn't get up to any mischief (or none that was attributable to him) unti his 3rd and final mail coach robbery in November.
Same area - which had gained the local name of Codrington's Forest by this time - same coach, same bushranger, same outcome.
And that's where Codrington Revingstone vanishes out of the history books.

Now, gallop forward 20 years and we find ourselves in the 1870's when a township was surveyed on the site of Codrington's Forest, and a proposed new road was to travel closer to the coast on it's way to Portland.
Liking the sound of the local name for the area it was officially adopted without checking it's origins.
Fortunately for the surveyors in the hot seat the road was built further inland and the township idea never took off, leaving Codrington the town that never was, named after the bushranger who vanished.

Home Rule in NSW ...is not a political demand.

Home Rule was once a thriving, bustling township on the Mudhut Creek Road in NSW.
Just north of Mudgee and slightly south-east of Gulgong, it was the rich pickin's at Canadian Lead that drew the bodies and souls like flies to honey, with eventual gold discoveries a little further east at Home Rule.

Thriving and bustling indeed; with 20,000 inhabitants from May 1872 busting a gut to gouge the gold from the ground and the many and varied businesses that seem to spring up, like fungus on a damp log, around human habitation sites.
There were at least 10 pubs, several boarding houses, a couple of general stores, butchers, bakers and tent makers, a butter and corn store, saddlers, chemists and at least 3 doctors, a saleyards, a bootmaker and a restaurant.
(One wonders if the restaurant necessitated the need for the doctors; it couldn't possibly have been the hotels, surely!)
There was a school for the, inevitable, arrival of rug-rats, a greengrocers store and a *gasp* billard parlor!

As several of these establishments were owned by Chinese people, one may assume there were many Chinese miners also grunting and groaning their way through the hard soil for the elusive glittering gold.

But, of course, nothing lasts forever and the gold reefs in and around Home Rule obeyed the laws of averages exactly.
Once the gold began disappearing so did the miners and along with a vanishing mob of customers so the various businesses followed.
Trek over to Home Rule via Google Maps (ooo I so love that gadget!) and say g'day to the very few scattered houses that mark the spot of the once large town site.

Darwin Town...but not the one in the Top End.

Did you know that Darwin was once a mining town?
Or that it gets snow?
And that it's a tad difficult to drive into Darwin at any time of the year?

Well, if you'd read the title of this post correctly you'd know I wasn't waffling on about Darwin, the capital of the Northern Territory.
I am, in fact, burbling on about Darwin Town in Tassie.
It was a short-lived mining town, named after the mountain on which it was perched, Mt Darwin.
This peak is parked in the West Coast Range (on the West Coast of Tassie, of course) with it's sister Mt Jukes with both having had many a digging site pock-marking their sides that are known as the Jukes-Darwin fields.

But back to Darwin Town.
Well, there's not a lot to say as there's sweet bugger-all available online about this long-forgotten place and I'm too cheap and lazy to hunt out The Peaks of Lyell history book by Prof. Geoffrey Blainey (I'll let you have the honour of doing that).
Enough souls called it home for the North Mt Lyell Railway to chug into, and beyond, the town from 1900.
The Mount Lyell Mining and Railway Company recognised a decent option and took the railway over in 1903, running it until it closed for good in 1929.

Darwin was plopped on the eastern side of Mt Darwin, no doubt enjoying a hefty snowfall in Winter and lovely breezes in Summer.
But we won't know that for certain as you really can't get to it these days along the old railway due to over-grown tracks, undergrowth and distance.
Oh, and flooded valleys, too.
So, wave in the general direction of the meandering Mt Darwin Track in Google Maps, coz there's nothing else marked to lead you to the lost town that lasted barely 30 yrs.

Let's get lost at Cocoroc !

OK, how about let's not get lost at Cocoroc.
(For those wondering, it's Aboriginal for "frog" ).
Might make for awkward explanations as to why we're all wandering around in a ghost town only 44kms from Melbourne.
Yes, Cocoroc is merely a name on the old Google map these days, although street view will give you a great close up of all that is no longer of the town.

Waaaay back in the dim dark past of 1892, when The Powers That Be realised that Marvellous Melbourne (or Smelbourne as it was fast becoming known) was seriously on the nose, a sewerage filtration plant was built.
Now, logic dictates that any treatment system needs to be far from the delicate nostrils of the upper echelon but it still required people to work it; so Cocoroc came into being.
A town built to house, educate and grow into a community to over 500 people with 4 primary schools, their own town hall and post office.
They fielded their own footy team, which trained on it's own home footy ground, swam in their own swimming pool in Summer, lobbed a few tennis balls over the net at their tennis courts and on Sundays they attended the Cocoroc church.
Cocoroc came to an end slowly; although the rent was cheap with 2 milking cows thrown in, with no gas or electricity the residents had to use kero lamps and candles, and pumping water for the house was a daily chore, as was boiling up the copper for wash day.
And then the houses were needing more and more maintenance.....
The houses and buildings were carted away when the Metropolitan Board of Works called it quits, with one of the 4 schools being demoted to becoming the Werribee Scout Hall.
So jump onto Google maps and have a gander at Cocoroc, have a wander along the main road in Street View but try not to get lost there coz no bugger will be around to lead you home.

The Murrells of Mentone

 

 

I came across this a few weeks back and it intrigued me.
Who were they? Why did they inspire such a dedication?
Newspaper files of the time show stable fires - with horse and human deaths - weren't uncommon, so what made this couple special?

Turns out William and Violet Murrell were the Brad and Angelina, the Nicole and Keith, the Mary and Fred of the racing world in their day.

Violet was the daughter of racehorse trainer Harry Farmer; she was on horses almost before she could walk, developing a deep love and affinity with these animals.
Violet rode many of her father's, and other trainers', horses in both flat gallops and hurdles races.
At the time female jockeys weren't allowed to compete in the metropolitan races, which frustrated her no end, but Violet won many country races in Victoria and NSW, beating the same jockeys who were undefeated in the metropolitan races.
One mini-biography states she was also the first female jockey to race at Randwick, NSW.

Violet also competed in numerous point-to-points, riding to hounds with hunts clubs, schooling some of her father's future champion race horses over the fences and ditches, to win several seasons.
Many newspaper reports state that at least one champion racehorse, Agricolo, had been greatly improved by her riding him to hounds.

William Murrell was no slouch in the racing department himself, having grown up on horses at his birthplace of Corryong; he was the Australian Cross Country champion several times, one of those times being on the champion hurdles racehorse Mosstrooper. He'd also won the Commonwealth Steeplechase,the Grand National Steeplechase, the Australian Steeplechase and Australian Hurdles amongst many other races, riding Mosstrooper, Roisel and other great jumps horses to victory.
William rode interstate and overseas, racing for 2 years in India, returning in 1923 to resume his winning career in Melbourne.

William and Violet married in 1927, he handsome and fresh faced while she was quite beautiful, the stunning couple clad in their racing colours in the studio portraits shine out clearly even after all these years.
Violet was given her champion hack Garryowen in 1931.

Violet and Garryowen quickly developed a deep affection for one another, with the pair winning more than 200 championships in both the Royal Melbourne and Sydney Shows.
When she talked to the horse, he'd nod or shake his head in appropriate reply. He was a beautiful bay colour with a lovely nature; completely reliable they photographed him trotting in the driveway of their home in Mentone with no rider or bridle, such was his calm temperament.
Violet often referred to him as her pet and good friend.

William and Violet had stables with 6 stalls at the back of their Latrobe St, Mentone home which was not far from the popular Mentone Race Course.
In early 1933 William decided to retire from racing as a jockey and became both a racehorse trainer and Violet's coach. The continued wins for both prove the great combination they made.

March 24, 1934 at 2am both William and Violet were suddenly woken by a horse's screams and a neighbour banging on their door - the stables, only 50 yards from their house, were aflame.
Violet ran into the burning stables, in just her flimsy nightdress, in a vain attempt to rescue Garryowen.
William's racehorse, Piquant, and the family dog, Billy, were also caught in the inferno.
Although he was momentarily knocked out by a falling timber, William ran into the burning building to rescue Violet; finding her collapsed in front of Garryowen's stall and unable to free the animals, William carried Violet out of the stables only to collapse outside himself.
Neighbours did their best for them, one of them a doctor, while the Cheltenham and Mentone fire brigades were hard pressed to contain the fire just to the stables.
Faulty wiring was later found to have been the cause.

Both Murrells were taken to the Royal Melbourne Hospital where Violet was immediately operated on and given a blood transfusion but she died in the early hours of March 25, aged 28.
William was also fighting for his life, with extensive burns to his face and hands, but he was not told of his wife's death.

The whole of Mentone and the racing fraternity were in shock at the death of Violet Murrell.
The large number of floral tributes and visitors, in the midst of the Great Depression, shows how deeply respected she was by many people. 2 cars were needed to carry the many wreaths while the funeral cortege stretched for more than half a mile.
Hundreds of people lined the funeral route to the Cheltenham cemetery while past champion jockey's acted as pall bearers.

William Murrell passed away in the early hours of April 4, 1934, aged 42, never having known his beloved Violet had died.
His death again shocked and deeply saddened the Mentone and racing communities.
His funeral was equally as large as his wife's had been ; many jockeys, trainers, racehorse owners and hundreds of local residents came to pay tribute to a successful man they'd known as a friend and neighbour.

Such was the depth of sadness at this couple's sudden death that the Purple Cross dedicated the horse trough to the couple for the people of Mentone while the Royal Melbourne Show Committee established the Garryowen Trophy Event later that same year, in 1934, to commemorate the respect and love Violet held for both Garryowen and all horses.
*With thanks to Jahteh and Andrew for their assistence in research.

Laura and Charles Ferguson Museum in Mentone

I was going tell you about this brilliant little museum tucked away in Old Bakery Lane, behind Mentone Parade, in Mentone.
I was also going to tell you that it has some fantastic items on display, is rich in resources and is quite an eye-opener of what our urban beaches once looked like.
Another thing I was going to share with you was that the volunteer staff are helpful, friendly, cheerful and waiting to answer any query people might have for them.
But Feral Beast has beaten me to the punch and blogged about the museum HERE.
But you can still pop along and visit this wonderful museum every Sunday 2-5pm for the miserly sum of $2 entry and get a great look, and feel, for many a lost yesteryear around Mentone, Parkdale, Beaumaris, Mordialloc and districts.

Ballarat Trams

December 1887 saw the birth of the horse-drawn tramway in Ballarat, a new form of public transport that was to garner many a fan from the public throughout it's existence until 1902, owned and operated by the Ballarat Tramways Company Ltd .

The horse trams were double-decker models that could park 44 bums on seats with 150 horses to haul the favoured conveyance around the Ballarat streets.

By 1902 ownership of the tram company, like that of the Bendigo Tramway Company, passed into the hands of the Electric Supply Company of Victoria.
Again like the Bendigo steam trams, the Electric Supply Company electrified the Ballarat tram lines and extended the track network.

When the SEC took over the network it was in poor condition and many pennies were spent on upgrading a worn-out system with a minor extension of the Lydiard Street North route.

For some reason there were only 2 years of profit from the Ballarat tramways under 37 years of ownership by the SEC which, again like the sister tramway in Bendigo, petitioned several times to close the lines until the Victorian Govt voted in it's favour in 1970.

The last day had large crowds of people, a brass band and the local radio station witness the end of an era. The very last tram carried over 200 passengers to Sturt St where they exchanged their seats for tramway men who travelled, for the last time, to the depot.

The Ballarat Tramway Museum came into being shortly before the closure of the tram lines, like it's Bendigo counterpart, to preserve some of the stock and track, and to keep some of the trams working as a tourist tramway.

Map courtesy of Google and research courtesy of Andrew.

Bendigo Trams

Beginning way back in the dark ages of 1890 Bendigo streets were graced with chugging battery powered trams for a whole 4 miles of track.
Unfortunately, while the batteries in the trams might have been simply grand on the flat, the up hill and down dale terrain of Bendigo proved too tough (even with a tail wind), leaving the trams (and passengers) stranded at the Eaglehawk end of the track where the driver would grab any horse ambling past and turn it into a horse-drawn tram for the return trip.

After a very short 13 months the Sandhurst and Eaglehawk Tramway Company found their finances as flat as the tram batteries and were bought out by the Bendigo Tramway Company.

This new business saw the writing on the wall for the batteries and, instead, made it over into a steam- engine driven tramway which proved a winner with everyone.

Sadly the fire went out of the steam tram business with the depression and, once more, the business was up for sale when it was gobbled up by the Electric Supply Company of Victoria in 1897.

Now, an electric company isn't going to see a steam-driven tramway as good advertising for it's own product so, of course, the trams were electrified.
With plans to scurry their trams all over the place, more land was bought for routes, generation plant, tram depot, etc.
The electric trams were a huge success.

There were no specific route destinations, the trams carried their passengers either north-south or east-west, with Charing Cross in the heart of Bendigo being X marks the spot where all the routes met, shook hands and continued on their way.

When the govt-owned SEC came into being it took over the Electric Supply Company's assets, including the Bendigo Trams. A shedload of dosh was needed to be spent on upgrading the equipment and spend it the SEC did, albeit reluctantly.

With the increase in popularity of that nasty, foul smelling motorised thing, the motor car, profit from passengers started to fall off prompting the SEC, several times, to try to close down the tramways, finally getting permission from the oh-so-forward thinking Victorian Govt (nice to know some things never change!).
A massive crowd turned out to farewell the trams on April 16, 1972, with massed pipe bands leading the last trams from Quarry Hill and massed brass bands leading the last trams from Eaglehawk, while a solo piper played Will Ye No Come Back Again as they disappeared from view.

Bendigo only has the Talking Tourist Trams today due to the Bendigo Trust listening to very vocal public opinion (something the State Govt seems to be forever deaf towards) and proposed to retain the whole kit and kaboodle, which was approved by the Govt (hooray for small mercies) the same year that the line was closed, 1972.

Map courtesy of Google and fantastic research courtesy of that splendiferous lad, Andrew.

Sorrento Steam Tram

Actor, politician and entrepreneur George Coppin - who gave Melbournians Cremorne Gardens and The Iron Pot Theatre - started making Sorrento The Place To Be.

May 18, 1889 he launched the Sorrento Tramway Company, and by 1890 the 2 steam engines, which had been used by the Loch Valley Timber Company near Noojee, were hauling up to 20,000 tourists each season.

No timetable was set; the tram would meet the paddle steamers that plied the bay (also owned by Coppin) and would then chug the mere 2 kms from Sorrento Pier to the back beach. A toot on the whistle in the afternoon would warn tourists to hurry back to the tram to begin their journey home again.

As time stands still for no man, neither does progress and, with increasing car ownership and usage, both the steam tram and paddle steamers became obsolete. The tram ceased services in 1921 and the paddle steamers were cut from 8 down to only 2 bobbing about on the waves by 1940.

For more great photos and info, click HERE, HERE and HERE.


Map courtesy of Andrew.

Horse Drawn Trams #7 Beaumaris

February 8, 1889 saw the beginning of the Beaumaris Tramway Company horses clip-clopping their way from Sandringham railway station following the seafront of Beach Rd until Tramway Parade was found.

Turning left into the parade, the tram tracks faithfully copied the wiggles of the road into the straight stretch where Tramway Pde met Balcombe Rd.

Reining the horses to the right the tram would travel the short way to Charman Rd where the tracks, and Dobbin, would swing the passengers in their seats to the left, conveying them to the Cheltenham Railway station.

Due to the lack of that nasty thing, money, being spent on the upkeep of the tram tracks, it was deemed too expensive to repair, too expensive to electrify and too expensive to replicate so the Beaumaris Tramway Company began closing services in 1915.

For further details, information and pictures (including a map of the route) click HERE.

Photo from Clang,Clang,Clang; A Study of Melbourne's Tramways by Marc Fiddian.

Horse Drawn Trams # 6 Caulfield-Glenhuntly-Elsternwick

April 1889 saw the first of the Caulfield Tramway Company's horse-drawn trams tripping merrily from Glenhuntly Rd to Caulfield railway station and back again but not for very long as the line closed later that same year.

The Caulfield Tramway Company opened, also in April 1889, their horse-tram line from Elsternwick train station to Glenhuntly railway station, along Glenhuntly Rd.

This kept trotting along the 4 miles, 30 chains distance until the Company went belly up in 1894 but was reopened, albeit briefly, by the newly formed Caulfield,Elsternwick and Malvern Tramway Company Limited in November 1901.

This new reincarnation only lasted until October 1902 when the line was closed for good, although the rails were still to be found in Glenhuntly Rd when those new fandangled electric trams were put through in 1913.

Lost Cable Tram Lines #17 West Melbourne

18th April , 1890 saw the West Melbourne cable trams begin their rather short-ish route, clad in a drab brown.

Stepping out from the corner of Elizabeth and Victoria Sts, the West Melbourne tram would slip along Victoria St until it found Errol St suitable enough to nip into on it's right.

Ducking round the corner into Queensberry St, the tram would breathe a sigh of relief as it finished it's uninspiring parade of mission brown clothing when it stopped at Abbotsford St, where it shared the engine house with the North Melbourne cable tram.

A change of paint colour to the uniform chocolate and cream couldn't save the West Melbourne tram from closing on the same day as it's North Melbourne sister, July 20th, 1935.

Lost Cable Tram Lines #16 North Melbourne

Attired in fabulous green, the North Melbourne cable tram line began to scoot from the corner of Elizabeth and Lonsdale Sts on March 3rd, 1890.

When reaching the corner of Lonsdale and Spencer Sts the tram would tuck it's heels under it as it sailed round the corner to it's right and would then zoom along Spencer St, leaning into the curve of the carriageway before it found Abbotsford St, on it's right, was a good lurk to check out.

Probably giving it's engine house barely a blink as it crossed over Queensberry St, the green gremlin tram would slow to a tinkling canter as it turned left into Flemington Rd, which it would follow until it found the limit of it's cable at Felmington Bridge.

The line was closed, with barely a whimper, on July 20th, 1935.

Lost Cable Tram Lines #15 North Fitzroy

Melbourne streets were never the same after October 2, 1886 when the North Fitzroy cable trams began prettying up the street-scape with it's buttercup yellow livery.

Starting it's casual stroll from the corner of Collins and Spencer Sts, the tram would amble up Collins St to Spring St where it would sneak off to the left into Macarthur and Gisborne St for a brief diversion until it found the busy Victoria Parade.

Performing a ballet-like maneuver the sunshine-hued tram would nip into Victoria Pde to it's right only to confuse any followers by quickly, and gracefully, tripping lightly to it's left into Brunswick St, past it's own engine house.

Once in Brunswick St the cable made sure the tram could not be distracted by any sidestreets and it stuck to it's tracks until the thoroughfare nudged over to the right and became St George's Rd.

St George's Rd took the tram past the Edinburgh Gardens and into the wilds of Fitzroy and Thornbury where it ran parallel to the railway line and could almost race the train from Merri station to Thornbury.
But once the tram reached Miller St, the race would have been over for it as it was the end of the line, just as it was for good and all on June 7th, 1930.

Lost Cable Tram Lines #14 Clifton Hill - Northcote

3 years after the Clifton Hill cable tram route was started, on February 18, 1890 the Clifton Hill - Northcote extension began hustling about it's business.

Beginning where the Clifton Hill line left off, at Merri Creek Bridge, the tram would gather it's skirts about it's ankles and flash along High St in all it's red hussy painted glory.

Crossing over Separation St and then dashing beyond the reaches of Darebin Rd to it's right, the tram would then pass it's engine house on the corner of Martin St as it chortled along for the last bustle, slowing for a bow to it's partner when it gained the intersection of High and Dundas Sts.

October 26th, 1940 saw the Clifton Hill - Northcote cable tram flash into history.