
Adelong
Before I tell you of the people in that little town I must describe the town itself asAdelong
it was in about 1902 when I was a little girl,
1
but it was known even then that it
was past its heyday of prosperity, and one by one the mines were closing down.
There were three at the top of the hill above our houses, all silent but one. The
Great Victoria had produced more gold than any other mine in the State. The
Gibralter, known always as the Gib and four miles downstream, was still working
three shifts a day.
I never think of the town as dry and sunburnt, but always as green and lush. There
was scarcely one home that was not surrounded by its own orchard, and there was
a little creek that ran through the town along behind the gardens of the shops, and
half a mile downstream on the opposite bank were our homes, firstly where I lived
with my parents,
2
then my aunt’s,
3
then my grandmother’s family.
4
It is odd, but
the one person I see so clearly is my grandmother. She was born in Yass about
1850 of German parents,
5
and I remember her mother only as a dour old womanMa’s mother
eternally rocking in a chair on the verandah. She had a walnut tree that was like
‘the biggest aspidistra in the world’, and she went to bed in the snowiest, frilliest
bed I have ever seen—starched frills and flounces in all directions. But she did
not inspire love, not as my grandmother did. All the family, including myself,
called my grandmother ‘Ma’. Her house was a timber one, pink, and all over oneMa’s house
wall was a banksia rose with great clusters of pale yellow roses, and I can see that
lovely wall even though the roses and the house are long since gone.
Beside that pink wall was another wall, and two long square-cut logs, and al-
ways in mild weather the whole family gathered and discussed everything—world
events, politics—while I played. In the whole town nothing was more beloved
than the creek. It was crystal clear and just deep enough for paddling, and its bed
was white sand with stones as smooth as glass.
Ma’s garden ended in a high bank with three whopping big willows with the creekMa’s garden
below, and can you think of anything nicer on a hot evening than swinging out
holding a handful of willow branch and dropping kerplonk into the water. I did
not know then what that lovely warm feeling was, but I know now that it was
happiness and contentment from living where it was so beautiful and, to be honest,
1
These letters were written by Esther Evelyn Maude Cochrane (19 June 1898–1969, known
as Ett or Hett). She was born in Adelong and lived there until December 1905 when her family
moved to West Wyalong. Birth names only are given in the footnotes.
2
Joseph Cochrane (1867–1915) and Catherine Jane Parker (1874–1940, known as Marnie).
3
Her mother’s sister, Esther Mary Parker (1882–1970, known as Ett)
4
The family of her maternal grandmother Catherine Jane Walters (1854–1933, known as Ma)
and grandfather John James Parker (1850–1924, known as Gargie).
5
Robert Walters and Mary A . . .
8