The White Hat Guide to 7 Journalists of Melbourne

No.1 Little Johnny Fawkner
No.2 'Vag'
No.3 Keith Murdoch
No.4 Bruce Postle

No.1 – Little Johnny Fawkner

On New Years Day 170 years ago, Melbourne’s first newspaper was published. Published – not printed. You see, every single copy was hand written. Back then you needed a licence from the authorities to own and operate a printing press. You didn’t need a licence to own multiple firearms but you needed one for a printing press. And quite right too! Let someone have a printing press and pretty soon they’ll be publishing a monthly newspaper with views that aren’t always in line with those of the authorities, then if that is allowed to go unchecked they’ll be publishing a weekly newsletter with views that are capable of subtly influencing the thinking of some of the populace and then . . . no! – the implications are too horrible to contemplate. A licence to operate a printing press should not be granted to John Fawkner. True, he had owned a printing press and published a paper in Launceston, but just because the administrators of Van Diemen's Land had a lapse of judgement didn’t mean that the authorities in New South Wales should grant a licence to this somewhat suspect character in the new settlement of the Port Phillip Region.

When John Batman had returned to Launceston and boasted about the land in the Port Phillip District which he had leased through a ‘treaty’ with local Aborigines, he was not to know that the Launceston publican and newspaper publisher would put together a party that would beat him back there. Fawkner always claimed to be the ‘founder of Melbourne’.

In a previous newsletter we retraced Fawkner's earliest movement in the settlement by way of a self-guided tour starting at his original land point and finishing at his second hotel. Fawkner placed an advertisement for this hotel on the front page of the first newspaper that we mentioned above. In the 19th century the front page of many newspapers was made up entirely of advertisements with news squeezed in later on – a model that has been enthusiastically adopted by modern day commercial radio and television. His advertisement read:

“FIRST ESTABLISHED HOTEL IN MELBOURNE. FAWKNER'S HOTEL Supplies to The Traveller, and Sogourner All the usual requisites of a Boarding House and Hotel of the very best Quality Being mostly laid in from the First Mercantile House in Cornwall V D Land In addition to which there will be found Mental Recreation of a High Order There are provided 7 English and 5 Colonial Weekly Newspapers Seven British Monthly Magazines Three Quarterly British Reviews up to July and August 1837 A very choise Siliction of Books encluding Novels Poetry Theology History Philosophy Chemistry &c. N.B. A late Encylopidia The use of Any of these Works will be free to the Lodgers at the Above Hotel.”

Little did Fawkner know that 170 years later the provision of encyclopaedias in hotels would be replaced by trivia quizzes about ephemera.

It was from this building the Fawkner published Melbourne’s first newspaper. He also later leased part of the building to a fledgling organisation calling itself The Melbourne Club. They subsequently moved further up the street to purpose built clubrooms.

Fawkner was eventually able to obtain a printing press and enthusiastically pursued his simultaneous careers of publican, publisher, editor, journalist, politician and general busybody. Fellow journalist, Garryowen tells us of Fawkner:

“With an education of a very restricted kind, he was a voracious reader -devouring, but not digesting.”

The original first handwritten newspapers of Fawkner remain some of Melbourne’s most important historical icons. I believe that you can still see one in the library of Parliament House and I think that the State Library also owns a copy.

In 1851 when Victoria eventually achieved ‘separation’ from New South Wales and became a colony in its own right there were grand celebrations and processions. Batman was long dead but Little Johnny revelled in his reputation as the only surviving ‘founder’ of the European settlement. He had a float to himself in the grand procession. This little man who had first set foot in Victoria at the age of 11 when his father and other convicts were transported to an ill-fated and aborted attempt at a penal settlement near Portsea which later moved on to Hobart, who had later himself been convicted of helping convicts attempt to build a boat to escape, was self-educated and alternately successful in business then bankrupt several times over, who was a hypochondriac who wore a red sleeping cap into parliament, who was belligerent but prepared to change firmly held views (as in the case of the Eureka miners) if faced with the evidence, who had championed separation from New South Wales and opposed Victoria becoming a penal colony, and was now to parade through the streets as an acknowledged pioneer of the now flourishing city – what would he choose to place on his float to signify what he believed was important?

His printing press.

Fawkner’s printing press eventually became the property of Melbourne Museum. In my lifetime I have never seen it displayed. There isn’t room due to important Melbourne historical displays such as the set of Neighbours. I believe it has been passed on to Scienceworks. Possibly some parts of it will someday appear in a conceptual artwork by a passionate young artist with views on Melbourne history that have been devoured but not digested. I prefer to think that it will be preserved for a future generation through indifference.

Perhaps we should leave the final words on Fawkner’s journalistic style to fellow journalist, Garryowen:

“The two great weaknesses, or perhaps rather strong points, in Fawkner's composition (and he was a voluminous newspaper writer) were a desire to "capitalize" immoderately, and rarely to put down the brake from start to finish. As for colons, semi-colons, and such trifles he would not condescend to notice them. At periods he was even reluctant to make a stop, and skipped over them oftener than otherwise.”

No.2 – ‘Vag’

In the 1870s Melbourne was growing fast and experiencing the flow-on effects of the wealth generated by the earlier goldrush. Impressive buildings were replacing the previous neighbourhood character in large sections of the city and Melbourne was shaping up to be one of the must-visit cities of the Empire. [White Hat pauses to lift a glass of mildly intoxicating liquor to our lips while paying homage to our queen – Victoria – after all the colony was named in her honour.]

These were heady times and the signs of progress and civilisation were everywhere. What a difference from the squalor of London and some of the less civilised reaches of the Empire. [White Hat takes a second sip and toasts QV once again.]

However, behind the scenes all was not as progressive as people liked to believe. A writer who we believe can lay claim to be being Melbourne’s first major investigative journalist arrived on the scene. He submitted a piece about people sleeping rough to the newspaper ‘The Argus’. He signed the piece ‘A Vagabond’.

Fairly soon he was submitting pieces about various institutions on the outskirts of society. He went in ‘undercover’ to write pieces about places such as lunatic asylums, the morgue and cemetery, prisons and other places that the good readers of The Argus would presumably have had no first hand experience. Fairly soon he had graduated from ‘A Vagabond’ to ‘The Vagabond’.

The writings of The Vagabond soon gained a following and a certain mystique – any writer who did not reveal their real name obviously has something to hide and became a creature of almost sensuous intrigue. Ah, those were the days. The Vagabond’s pieces weren’t just voyeurism for a Victorian era public fascinated with the seedier side of life. Suggestions made by The Vagabond about how the social services involved could be improved often seemed based on a broader knowledge of how things were done elsewhere in the world and led to action to change our local practices.

For a while The Vagabond wandered off to other parts of Australia and the world but eventually returned to Victoria. He was now aging and in dubious health and in need of income. He took on the project of heading by horseback to the remoter parts of Victoria and writing a regular lengthy newspaper column reporting on bush and town life in Victorian era Victoria. He eventually died in poverty in Fitzroy.

Today he is remembered by a few through his collected investigative writings republished under the name ‘The Vagabond Papers’. However at White Hat we quietly value his observations on country Victoria collected under the title ‘Vagabond Country’. Here he managed to create a sort of ‘Lonely Planet Guide to Victoria’ long before the Wheelers were to create their more high profile product.

The Vagabond is buried in the Melbourne General Cemetery. His neglected grave features a carving of a hand holding a pen. At the foot of the grave is a carved urn, obviously contributed by some contemporary admirers.

It contains the simple inscription ‘VAG’.

[White hat takes a final sip and toasts ‘The Vag’.]

No.3 – Keith Murdoch

In 1904 David Syme, the proprietor of The Age, employed a kid from Camberwell as a stringer. A stringer is a writer who is payed by the number of lines published and thus measures their income with a length of string. It did not look promising. True, the kid was bright – he had been dux of Camberwell Grammar – and had the cock-sure manner of a young person who as yet didn’t know what he didn’t know. But he had a bad stammer – not a good starting point for someone who is going to be interviewing people – and his beat was to be the establishment suburb of Camberwell. The Age, being somewhat liberal in its views did not sell well at that time in establishment suburbs. Still the kid came recommended by his father (a Presbyterian minister), had good shorthand and seemed prepared to work hard and make a success of himself as a journalist.

Work hard he did, and after four years he had increased the circulation of The Age in Camberwell and saved 500 pounds for a trip to England. Journalism often paid better in that period than now, and few present day stringers would be able to accumulate the equivalent amount. In London he studied at the London School of Economics, established important contacts such as the editor of The Times, and wired stories back Australia. He continued his travels to America and at the outbreak of the War he applied for the position of Australia’s Official War Historian. He lost out to Charles Bean, but took up the position of a war correspondent. En route to France he was able to stop off at Gallipoli and speak to Australians and others about their disillusionment with the manner in which the English officers were running that campaign. These four days in Gallipoli were to result in a letter that, along with Ned Kelly’s Jerilderie Letter, was to become one of the most important documents in Australian history. The story of the letter is long and convoluted. It began life as a confidential letter from a British Journalist to Prime Minister Asquith in London to be delivered by Keith. When the letter was removed from Keith’s possession he did what any talented journalist would do. He rewrote and embroidered it adding his own forceful and colourful style. The letter that arrived in London contained descriptions of the British officers such as these:

“The conceit and self complacency of the red feather men are equalled only by their incapacity. Along the line of communications, especially at Moudros, are countless high officers and conceited young cubs who are plainly only playing at war. What can you expect of men who have never worked seriously, who have lived for their appearance and for social distinction and self satisfaction, and who are now called on to conduct a gigantic war? Kitchener has a terrible task in getting pure work out of these men, whose motives can never be pure, for they are unchangeably selfish…appointments to the general staff are made from motives of friendship and social influence. Australians now loathe and detest any Englishman wearing red.”

Was the letter 100% accurate? Far from it, but it did dramatically draw attention to issues which needed to be addressed. Was it 100% ethical? Not really. Keith had signed a standard censorship form and even though this was a ‘private’ letter it still transgressed that agreement. Not fully accurate, not fully ethical but made a splash and made things happen – Keith had taken a significant step along the route from being a mere journalist to becoming a media mogul. The letter with all its embellishments and inaccuracies still forms the basis of how many Australians view Gallipoli today. Keith now found that he had considerable influence and combined with Charles Bean tried unsuccessfully to use that influence to prevent John Monash being put in charge of the Australians.

On his return to Australia Keith eventually obtained the position of Chief Editor of The Herald. Technically, that was about No. 4 in the hierarchy but it didn’t take long until Keith was No.1. To The Herald was soon added radio station 3DB, The Sun newspaper and various media outlets across the country. Australia’s first national media empire was born and partly because a talented and ambitious man was in the right place at the right time.

You can see a copy of THAT letter at: http://www.nla.gov.au/gallipolidespatches/2-2-1-murdoch.html

No.4 Bruce Postle - photojournalist

Teddy Roosevelt, the American president, was an enthusiastic big game hunter. When asked if he was a good shot he confided “I don’t shoot well but I shoot often.” We are nearly all photographers and today’s technology makes it easy and cheap to shoot often, so, no matter how bungling we are, we are sure to get a good photo from time to time.

For the press photographer of the past it wasn’t always that easy. Glass plates were clumsy and expensive and were in common use until relatively recently. There is a famous photograph of the end of the tied test match with the West Indies in Brisbane. The photographer was down to his last glass plate and had just one chance to push the shutter at the right moment to capture the occasion.

Even if the photographer captured a great image, it wouldn’t necessarily work in a newspaper. Low resolution black and white printing called for strong images with the key information encapsulated in a small area. Subtleties of grey scale or details in the background weren’t going to work in a good newspaper photograph. And, after all, the photograph was only there to support the written word of the journalist.

However some editors recognised the growing importance of the photograph and that, in some cases, the photograph WAS the story that needed only little support from the written word. Perhaps the changing moment in Australia came in the 1920s when a special edition was rushed to the streets with Australia’s first full front page photograph supported only by the words – LONG SEARCH ENDS – SQUIZZY SURRENDERS. The photograph showed the gangster Squizzy Taylor in bowler hat flanked by two burly policemen.

The Sun newspaper changed its name to The Sun News Pictorial, and The Truth knew that if you had a good photograph, a journalist could always construct a story to go with it unhampered by annoying details such as facts.

It was into a Melbourne newspaper world with a growing emphasis on the photographer that a young man from Brisbane made his way. Bruce Postle had an easy way with people and seemed to have a knack for seeing things around him that nobody else had noticed. He quickly established himself as a photographer at The Age where he covered important news stories in Melbourne. In the late 1970s a tragic event occurred where a light plane crashed into a house near Essendon Airport. The father arrived soon afterwards to find his home wiped out and his wife and children killed. Bruce Postle attended the burial at Melbourne Cemetery and took a heart-wrenching photograph of the distraught father being restrained by relatives as a child’s coffin is lowered into the grave. The editor called Bruce into his office and told him he was not going to publish the photograph – it would only add to the father’s grief. You would have to search for a long time to find an editor who would make that decision today. The photograph was published a number of years later with the father’s permission.

Perhaps it was this experience that steered Bruce away from the more conventional path of press photographer as almost intruder and voyeur to a more subtle role of quiet observer. His photographs of Malcolm Fraser in bed reading the paper the morning after his election win or Tommy Woodcock bedded down with racehorse Reckless are not the stuff of the media pack shouting “over here – over here.”

Bruce was probably not your best person for following a brief. If sent off to the country to cover an official event he might spot a family cricket match and decide to photograph that instead. No doubt he would explain to his editor that the family cricket match had a more important and enduring story to tell than the official event – and he was right. He was also capable of making you see familiar scenes through fresh eyes. Parliament steps is arguably the most public place in Melbourne. But Bruce’s photograph of Jeff Kennett being greeted by wife Felicity after surviving a party room challenge make this familiar public space seem strangely intimate.

In an era when an army of photographers are focused on catching celebrities in demeaning situations, or photographing public figures from unflattering angles or with ugly expressions, it is refreshing to stumble across an old photograph by Bruce Postle which celebrates the dignity of the ordinary person or points out the simple beauty of everyday life. There are many press photographers, but few who are untitled to call themselves photojournalist. Bruce Postle is one. Look out for his photos.