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FREMANTLE WELCOME WALL
Name: BATTERSBY, John
Origin: Knowsley Estate, Liverpool, UK
First settled: Katanning, WA
Original Occupation: Farm Labourer
Occupation in Australia: Farm labourer then farmer
Arrived on: BERRIMA
Departure Port: London, UK
Arrival Year: 1927
Place of arrival: Fremantle
John Battersby (Jack) worked on farms, then at the Katanning Flour Mills saving to buy a succession of larger farms of his own. He went from having nothing to be a well-respected personage in the district. He married Selma Beeck and they had 3 children Keith, Ruth (Kowald) and Athol (dec.)
LOOKING BACK
by John Battersby
It has been suggested that having lived in West Australia for nearly forty years, all of which have been spent in the Katanning District, that a brief summary of my impressions of the changes that have taken place during that period would be appreciated and, whilst I cannot hope that they will be of any literary value, I trust that they will be of sufficient interest to remind people that living conditions have not always been of the high standard which exist today.
When I left England in 1927, that country was in the throes of a terrible trade depression, with widespread unemployment and resultant poverty, the aftermath of the big coal strike in 1926. At this time agriculture was in the doldrums. Because work was so little money available amongst the working class, even the price of potatoes was beyond their means.
I was working for Grandfather during this period and although it is now difficult to believe, I was an extremely slim youth, but in the peak of physical condition due to the very hard work we had to perform for anything up to fourteen hours a day. My Grandfather had the firm belief that anyone who was not made to work to the limit of his capacity, was liable to get into mischief, something to be avoided at all costs. My grandfather was a very good farmer, insisting on all work being done to the greatest pitch of excellence. He had 2,200 acres on a leasehold basis on the Knowsley Estate of Lord Derby, whose rent roll at one stage of his career totalled £300,000. a year.
The land was of varying quality, but its total productive capacity was most impressive. Potatoes were our main crop, but many other root crops were grown as well, together with clover, wheat, oats and barley, the latter crops averaging 60 bushells to the acre.
A few dairy and beef cattle were kept, together with pigs and poultry, not to mention the heavy draught horses which were constantly at work. This may appear strange on such a small acreage, but such a vast quantity of potatoes was grown that two wagons were constantly engaged in delivering three ton loads to the City of Liverpool, returning with loads of cow manure from the dairies in that city and which was applied to the soil at the rate of twenty tons to the acre. This treatment, coupled with an application of 12 cwt. (609 kg) of chemical fertiliser, superphosphate, sulphate of ammonia, potash etc. was responsible for growing enormous crops and kept eight men constantly employed with a lot of casual labour in the potato harvesting period. The total value of the crops at today’s prices would be in the vicinity of £30,000 ($75,000 au) a year.
S.S. Berrima
When it is considered however, that the price of potatoes has fallen as low as £2. ($4.60 au) a ton (907 kg), it can be readily understood that prospects for the English farmer were far from bright. So, defying the Battersby tradition, which consisted of farming in the same locality which my ancestors had done centuries, I decided to try my luck in Australia and embarked on the S.S. Berrima on the 7th of July, 1927, arriving at Fremantle on the 15th of August .The journey was not very enjoyable. The ship was a small one and reacted strongly to anything but the mildest of seas. There were a lot of people seasick for days on end and never came down to meals although they didn’t miss much because the food was atrocious.
I was very pleased, therefore, to set foot on dry land again and wasted no time in consulting the immigration authorities about a job because I was extremely tired of doing nothing and, after a month of idleness, my physical condition was far from good. I was informed that there was a job available in Coyrecup, which I was to believe was a suburb of Katanning. I boarded the train in the afternoon full of optimism and a couple of meat pies, which the vendor assured me were freshly made and which decidedly were not.
My previous train journey, from Liverpool to London, a distance of 200 miles (322 km), lasted less than four hours and while I did not expect that the train services here would be as good, I did not expect that the same distance would take more than twelve, which this one did. It was a most uncomfortable journey because the wheels gave me the impression that they were not entirely circular because of the terrific jolting which prevented me from sleeping.
I arrived in Katanning about 5 a.m. and as soon as it was daylight set off to explore the town. It was certainly different to any other town I had ever seen, with its dirt streets and peculiar buildings, and was more reminiscent of a Wild West town in America. I caught another train later in the morning and, if I thought the previous train was slow, it was a veritable Flying Scotsman compared with this. While it’s natural rate of progress was slow, it was made even worse by the train crew stopping to gather sticks with which to make a fire to boil the billy.
Eventually we arrive at Coyrecup Siding, which was distinguished by a small shed by the side of the track. After enquiring the approximate direction of my future employer’s property, which I was informed was somewhere over that way, I shouldered my cases and strode off into the bush of which there were several hundred acres between me and my destination.
I saw some smoke above the trees and, on making my way towards it, I came to a small clearing in which stood a small shed about fifteen feet square (1.4 sq m). On approaching this I was met by a large dog which had obvious intentions of making a meal of my leg. A well-placed boot in the ribs made it change its mind and I proceeded on my way with a certain misgiving which was fully justified when I reached the hut. Built of bush timber and rusty iron, with a dirt floor, it smelt to high heaven, which was not surprising in view of the rancid meat which was hanging outside. I was greeted by an old man who introduced himself as my employer and invited me to sit down and have some dinner, which I declined. The place was really revolting for apart from the general filth, there were six cats and a dog sharing the shed, with results that can only be imagined. I had no alternative however but to stick it out until I could get my bearings and get something better.
I have however, encountered many situations such as this since I have been in Australia and on one occasion I heard a man who was eating his evening meal in the complete darkness and, when asked by a caller why he was doing so, his reply was that the meat was a bit off colour and he didn’t want to see what he was eating.
I stayed at this place about six weeks and then found another job in Kwobrup about sixteen miles away. This was in the Mallee bark country and there I got my first experience of working on this; the most difficult land in the district to work. The man who owned it was a very poor type, one who could tell every farmer how to run his business but was absolutely hopeless with his own. His machinery was lying out in the weather and his stable was so leaky that it was impossible to find a dry place in which to keep the harness. The paddocks were literally covered with stumps and it was a source of wonder to me how he managed to grow and harvest a crop or any description.
Living conditions were a little better than my previous place and, although the cooking left a good deal to be desired, I was happy enough. I enjoyed the climate after the gloomy weather of England and with plenty of riding, of which I was always very fond, had marvellous fun chasing kangaroos.
With seeding time approaching it was time to get the paddocks cleaned up ready for the plough and started in with horse and dray to pick the roots. The first paddock I picked they were lying as thick as currants in a cake but made a good job of it and was very pleased with its appearance. You can imagine my feeling however, when after plowing it the stumps were lying just as thickly as when I started.
When the first rains of the season came, which they did on the 26th of April, we got the horses into the stable after a struggle because they were wild after running in the bush for months. They were a very nondescript lot, all sorts and sizes and with very mixed temperaments, mostly bad. Most of them had been badly broken and they were most difficult to handle. The harness was in very bad condition and was not fit to put on a horse; in many cases it was mended with wire and it was difficult to see how it could hold together. At home, in the old country, we used to take a pride in our horses and keeping them spick and span all the year round. To the rubbish with which I was expected to work nearly broke my heart.
I heard of a man who went to work for an outback farmer and who was told by the latter to take the horse out of the cart. The man, after gazing at the wired harness for a moment, asked the plier. The boss, suspecting him of sarcasm, sacked him on the spot.
We managed to get eight horses harnessed and then the fun started. I had never handled more than four well broken horses in my life and when I got behind this crowd of eight, I wondered what was going to happen next! I was soon to learn. Three of the more docile ones started to move off properly but the object of the rest of them was to take two leaps forward and three backwards and finally ended by sitting on the front of the plough. After a few wild skirmishes however I managed to get them moving in unison and round the paddock we went in what looked like a chariot race from Ben Hur. The clattering of the plough over the Mallee stumps and the speed at which we were travelling made it difficult to retain my seat, but I managed it. After a couple of laps round the paddock the horses were more amendable to discipline.
I cropped 550 acres (223 ha) that year and by the time I was finished they were in such poor condition that they could hardly walk. The owner was too mean to give them sufficient food with the inevitable result. He was also too mean to even provide the correct quantity grain and fertiliser for the crop, considering 45 pounds (20 kg) or adequate for the purpose. The crop, of course, was a failure, which he blamed of course to his bad fortune.
I had been repeatedly warned by the neighbouring farmers that my employer’s financial position was far from sound and that I had better take care that my wages were assured as reputation in this respect was far from good. Unfortunately I did not take much notice, with the result that he informed me one day that he could not afford to keep me any longer and that I would have to wait till after harvest for the balance of my wages owing to me, a balance £65 ($130.00) which had been earned at the rate of thirty shillings ($3.00) a week. I was naturally very chagrined.
Although my stay at this farm left a good deal to be desired, it was during this time that the turning point of my life occurred. I had developed a bad abscess on my leg which needed hospital treatment and it was while undergoing this that I made the acquaintance of a certain young lady who eventually became my wife, Selma Beeck.
I went to work on a farm in Badgebup for a man who was my previous employer’s brother-in-law, Mr. Sam Kemble and it one of the best times in my life. He was an excellent employer, treating his men really well, while the food was the best I had had since England. He gave me plenty of opportunities to go to Marracoonda, where my girlfriend lived and altogether it was a very happy period.
At this time prices for Australia were fairly good. Wool was worth about 28d. (.28c) a pound (.45kg), while wheat was about five shillings (.50c) a bushel. There was plenty of loan money available and things generally were fairly prosperous. I had always taken a certain amount of interest in economics and world affairs and from my observance of the world situation generally, I was convinced that it would not be long before Australia would be suffering which was already bad in England and America. These, unfortunately, became a stern reality the following year when wheat dropped below two shillings (.20c) and wool was down to less than a shilling (.10c).
I was naturally very anxious about my situation which could become precarious in the event of such financial stringency. I was saving most of my wages because my personal needs were small, my visits to town were very infrequent, at one stage daring my previous employment, six months elapsed between my trips to Katanning and when one considers that I had spent most of my life within ten miles of a city containing over a million people, I feel that I had adapted myself to Australian conditions rather well.
I was under a certain a certain amount of pressure in one direction to change my place of employment and work nearer to Marracoonda. It was suggested that a job would be found for me at Orange Grove, the home of my fiancé, if I cared to take it. I did so and there commenced a very happy association with the Beeck family, which has remained unshaken through the years. Mr. & Mrs. Mouritz Beeck were the parents of four sons and five daughters and a happier family I have never met. It was a real delight to become part of it and share once again the homely pleasures of which had been deprived from for so long.
Mr Beeck was a simple minded, good living man, a good farmer and a good stock man. He took a great delight in feeding stock because he told me on more than one occasion, that when he was a young man in South Australia the droughts were so severe that it was necessary to take the straw from the roofs of the buildings to feed the horses, when, to use his, own expression, “they ate it like lollies.” I stayed with him for a few weeks only, because I could see that I was not really required as there were already six men on the place.
When Mr Alex Prosser, a near neighbour, offered me a job I accepted with alacrity. The clouds of the depression were now definitely lowering. I tried to impress prospective father-in-law about the situation that confronted us, but he was most sceptical and thought I was talking nonsense. He had an overdraft with the Primary Producer’s Bank which at that, time controlled many of farm interests in W.A. I strongly urged him to try and transfer his account to a more stable banking institution, but he refused to take heed of my warnings. Shortly after the Primary Producer’s Bank closed its doors and he had considerable difficulty in getting another bank to take over him affairs.
I received thirty shillings a week at Happy Valley and considered myself fortunate because unemployment was starting to become prevalent and men could be seen walking the roads every day. Mr Prosser, his sons Cliff and Rex, and I put in nearly a thousand acres (404 ha) of crop with horse teams. We worked long hours and still did not finish until July, when the ground was very boggy. l had quite a happy time in Marracoonda, content in my work and good company although at church on Sunday afternoons I used to get rather tired of the people perpetually talking about hard times after the service.
The year came to an end and I began to wonder what lay in store for me after harvest. I knew that the financial situation was not bright, Mr Prosser having made the mistake of buying a large adjoining property a couple of years prior. He had to pay £700 ($1,400) a year interest and in view of the fact that his wool clip was worth a little over £1,000 ($2,000), the outlook seemed rather grim. He told me his banker had told him to dispense with my services because he could not afford to employ anybody. Of course, the interest had to be paid however, I am pleased to say he refused to do so as it was not possible to run the farm without assistance. He knew that I was anxious to get married and offered me the use of a small cottage on the property which I accepted. It was in a very dilapidated condition, but I spent every spare moment in making it more presentable and my wife and I moved in after our wedding in April, 1931.
My wages were still only thirty shillings ($3.00) a week, but we had a cow and poultry and managed very well. We stayed at Happy Valley for a year when we were offered the lease of a farm at Woodanilling. It was only a small place, less than six hundred acres, but there seemed to be a possibility that with various sidelines, we should be able to improve our present position. With the few pounds I had saved, plus a loan on an insurance policy, I bought a few horses and other necessities and started farming.
I cropped 100 acres of wheat (40 ha) and 40 acres (16 ha) of oats, but it was a very wet year and it only yielded nine bushels to the acre. This returned the princely sum of ninety-two pounds ($184.00). The results from the sidelines was also very meagre. We sold thirty-six dozen eggs on one occasion for twelve shillings ($1.20). I did some butchering for the local, selling prime mutton for four pence (.04c) a pound (.45 kg), until one of my neighbours started selling it for three pence (.03c). However, we struggled on and by getting a few jobs to do in the district I managed to keep my head above water.
When my lease ran out three years later, I was offered a farm close to Katanning for thirty-six shillings ($3.60) an acre (.40 ha), on very good terms. It was in a very good position and as we then had the children, I felt it would be advisable to make plans for a good schooling for them. There was no house on the place so the first thing I had to do was to make some mud bricks to build one. I made the bricks and erected the walls in three weeks, and I don’t think I ever worked harder in all any life. The building was thirty feet (9.1 m) by fifteen (4.6 m), divided into two rooms and I added two more later by using asbestos. I must have made a fairly substantial job of it because is still in use.
There were only about five hundred acres (202 ha) cleared and I devoted a good portion of my time to the use of the axe and cleared paddocks totalling four hundred (162 ha) during the next years. Unfortunately, superphosphate was supplied on a rationed basis at this time and, as the quota for each particular property was based on the average amount used on it, my allocation was very small indeed.
In my experience of English farming, with its heavy application of all types of fertiliser, I was really amazed to find that farmers in this country could expect to keep their soil in a good state of fertility by the very small quantity of super used in the growing of a crop. This was about once every four or five years, with no top dressing of the pasture in between. It has always been an axiom of good farming, that to get anything out of the ground it is necessary to put something into it. This fact has been realised during the last twenty years and now all farmers use super fairly generously with outstanding results in greater crop production and stock carrying capacity.
I kept plodding along as best I could for a few years, managing to keep my family fed and clothed and always managing to send them for a holiday once a year. I could never afford to go myself but got extra work away from home to enable me to pay for theirs. I had a lot of new land cleared in the year 1944 and I expected that with a reasonable season I would manage to surmount my financial difficulties, but unfortunately it was not to be.
The season was a very dry one and most of my crop never developed to the ear stage. The crop was a complete failure and I was faced with debts, which at that stage it was impossible to pay. I was strongly advised to relinquish the farm and get a job but this I absolutely refused to do.
I did however find a position in the Katanning Flour Mills as a fireman in the engine room. arranged to do all the night shift, starting at midnight and finishing at eight o’clock in the morning. This enabled me, after two hours sleep, to take my team and put in my crop. It was extremely hard work, as the logs with which I had to feed the fire were very big and overtaxed my strength on many occasions and I was always regarded as a very strong man. Many times, I have nearly dropped from sheer exhaustion when the wood was green, and it was most difficult to maintain sufficient steam to keep the engine running. The mill at this time was running to full capacity and the owners were making enormous profits, but they were indifferent to the welfare of its employees. There were no proper facilities such as hot showers, which could be considered essential in a task such as mine.
I endured as long as I could but collapsed and was so weak for a long time that I could not rise from a chair without assistance. The Doctor told me, quite seriously, what the consequences would be if I persisted in working so hard so, as I had paid off all my debts, I decided to devote all my time to the farm. By this time, I had a good team of horses, owing to the fact that I was fairly successful at dealing and, by judicious buying and selling, had managed to dispose of inferior animals of which I had always more than my share. This was mainly because I could only afford those animals which many men refused to work. I have had scores of vicious horses through my hands and it is surprising that I’m alive to tell the tale, in view of the many predicaments in which I was continually in when trying to make them work.
I arranged to do some dam sinking for neighbours and as my first job of this kind was remunerative, I continued with the project. At the end of twelve months I managed to buy a tractor and from that first dam I have never looked back. After dam sinking I did a lot of share farming with neighbouring farmers and, as prices were improving each year, I soon found myself in a sound financial position.
In 1952 I sold my farm moved to a better one at Moojebing, remaining there for ten years until I bought the present property of Cheviot Hills. It has been said by some people that I have been very lucky in being able to own such a fine property, but I can assure you that my life has not been easy and the fact that at the moment my health is not the best is not surprising, in view of the tremendous amount of work I used to accomplish under the most difficult conditions.
I must, of course, pay tribute to my wife for the way in which she stood by me during those difficult years. I am very happy that I am now able to provide her with some of the amenities which it was impossible to do in the first years of our life together. I would also like to take this opportunity of expressing my gratitude to some very good friends who gave me encouragement and assistance during my years of struggle.
In this report I think I particularly of. Mr. Clarence Garstone who gave me quite a lot of help in lending me horses and fodder on more than occasion. I take great pleasure in the fact that the friendship which originated so long ago has been maintained and strengthen to the present day.