a chance encounter

(A Fiction)

Princes Bridge Hotel (photo courtesy, State Library of Victoria)

Melbourne Town (circa 1862) 

Henry = Thomas Henry     Joseph = Joseph Henry     Smith or Thomas = Thomas Smith

Dodging piles of steaming horse manure and waving at swarms of flies, the brothers Thomas and Joseph Henry pick their way across Flinders Street. Thomas, the elder, is a slight, bespeckled man with a long beard and a faint moustache above thin lips. Joseph, in travelling apparel, bears the demeanour of one who has endured a relentless journey.

Finally, stepping onto the footpath, they relax a little before Thomas sees a rather tall red-headed figure emerge from the door of the corner pub. The man, of a distinctive, rather military bearing, begins to stride away from them along Swanston Street.

“Smith! I say Smith!” Thomas calls. “Is that really you? What an extraordinary coincidence!”

The man stops, turns and looks enquiringly at Thomas. “Henry!” he exclaims, suddenly throwing his arms wide and nearly decapitating a woman with his walking cane. The woman skirts around Smith giving him a furtive glance. He doesn’t see her at all. “Thomas Gibson Henry, well, I’ll be smitten! Fancy meeting you here on the streets of Melbourne!” Smith says, approaching the brothers and shaking Henry’s hand. “It’s been so long!”

“Yes, and so far from the Emerald Isle. I say, Smith,” he says, remembering his younger brother Joseph. “You remember my younger brother Joseph? But of course you do, Carrickmacross, Viscount Weymouth Grammar. And after that Dublin, Trinity College.”

“Yes! Joseph! Of course I remember you! Naturally. We were all three of us there - at different stages. How are you young man? Medicine at TCD wasn’t it?”

“I’m very well thank you Thomas,” Joseph replies, grimacing at Smith’s aggressive handshake. “And yes, I graduated in ’58 and now carry with me a letter of recommendation to a practice in the town of Benalla. It’s north of here I believe.”

“It certainly is Joseph and, if I’m successful in my application for the position of Inspector of Schools, Benalla will be within my inspectorate! So I may even see you there from time to time. But…” Smith hesitates, sighting Joseph’s luggage, “you’re dragging a portmanteau along with you I see. You’ve not just arrived in the colony by any chance?”

“My brother Thomas, has, just this morning, met me on my disembarkation at Hobson’s Bay. And we two have only now alighted from the train here at…” he gestures across the road. “What station is it again? Oh yes…” And all three chant in unison. “Flinders St. Station.” and laugh as one.

“I must say,” Joseph continues when the mirth has subsided, “you do look exceedingly fit and well Thomas. Are you still playing cricket? You were quite the celebrated sportsman at school.”

“Yes, both cricket and football,” Henry chips in. “We often read about it in the papers. You’re a sportsman through-and-through Smith. And, if my memory serves me well, horse racing to boot. They change their sky…’ and all that…”

Smith looks at him quizzically. “What the devil are you talking about Henry? Another literary quote I daresay.”

“Yes Smith, Horace. ‘Caelum non animum mutant, qui trans mare currunt.’  ‘They change their sky, not their soul, who rush across the sea.’”

“Ha, ha! Ever the scholar Henry, ever the scholar.”

“Not at all.” Henry says, shaking his head, “It’s yourself Smith, who’s the real scholar amongst us. Joseph!” he continues, turning to his brother and extending an arm towards their companion, “we have in our midst none other than the Principal of our Model School, a school for day and boarding students and the pre-eminent teacher’s academy in the colony.”

“You flatter me Henry. But, yes, I have had the honour this past eighteen months.”

“That’s quite an accolade Thomas I must say. Congratulations! And what’s all this about football?” Joseph presses. “Rugby football is it you’re playing?”

“Football, certainly Joseph, but Rugby no. Myself and others at the Melbourne Cricket Club have started a game of our own. We codifying the rules in May of ’59 and play regular challenge matches against teams from University, South Yarra, St. Kilda, Geelong and the like. Our matches have drawn onlookers in the thousands.”

“Those places are not familiar to me at all Thomas, but, tell me, do you play in open paddocks or on regular playing fields?

“We played at first on the Richmond Paddock, just a mile or so from here, near the Melbourne Cricket Ground, but now are sometimes allowed to do battle on the Ground itself. It’s just over in that direction, see, through those trees. If you go down to the river here and continue on straight through the bush… look, there,” he says, pointing, “you can see the Yarra river, if you step out here.” Joseph takes a step off the footpath. “Careful! Good God man, you were nearly clipped by that… Hey man! Yes you!” Smith shouts at the passing driver, thrusting his cane towards him, “You! Go easy! Slow that buggy down!” The buggy driver glares at Smith but plies his reins, fearing further confrontation. As the buggy careens away, Smith turns back to Joseph. “Are you alright young man?”

“Yes Thomas, quite alright, I assure you.”

“This town has a madness about it of late,” Thomas rails. “Everyone in such a bleeding rush, if you’ll pardon my Greek. But, let’s not talk out here in the street, so much haste, and noise! And these blasted persistent flies! The Princes Bridge Hotel is right here, let’s have a drink!

“An exemplary proposal!” exclaims Henry, shaken by the sudden ruction.

“Joseph, please, after you,” Smith says, indicating the door from which he’d just emerged. “Here, I’ll take one of those bags for you.”

“Very kind of you Thomas, in here?”

“Not at all, not at all. Yes, the bar’s through to the left but go right ahead into the lounge. We’ll be much better accommodated there with all this baggage.”

When Joseph has gone inside Smith turns to Henry and motions him aside. “Henry, a quick word. You wouldn’t happen to have a spare couple of pounds on you by any chance? I find myself short just now.”

Henry is taken aback for a moment, considering Smith’s standing and presumed salary. Then, resignedly, he puts his hand in his coat pocket, takes out his purse and hands Smith some cash. “Alright Smith, it’s not at all spare, but here you are. Chasing the horses around the track again I suppose.”

“Oh, you’re too kind Henry.”  Smith says, “I’ll have it back to you in no time. You’re still in Malvern are you not?”

“Yes Smith, I have the school at my house in Commercial Rd. And I’ll be expecting a visit very soon.”

“Naturally Henry. Naturally.” He motions towards the door of the hotel. “Please, after you.”

<<<<<<<<<< >>>>>>>>>>

This encounter is fictional but the characters, dates and circumstances are historically accurate (as far as the writer can ascertain). Hobson’s Bay is now Port Melbourne, the Princes Bridge Hotel now Young and Jackson’s.

While resident in Malvern, Thomas Gibson Henry was a teacher, founding member and sometime chairman of the Gardiner Road Board (later City of Malvern/Stonnington) where, amongst many other achievements he was instrumental in instigating the Prahran Market. He moved to Hamilton and then Mumbannar in western Victoria where he continued to teach for many years.

His brother Joseph was a highly regarded medical practicioner in Benalla for forty years. He was well known for having attended the injuries and/or deaths of a number of well-known personages including members of the Kelly family and the bushranger Mad Dog Morgan.

            Thomas Henry Smith taught the classics at Scotch College, was principal of the Model School, Inspector of Schools for the Sandhurst district and taught at a number of institutions in Victoria and South Australia. He was one of the four men to write the original rules of the game that eventually became Australian Rules Football. He was a founding member of and captained the Melbourne Football Club on a number of occasions.

Yackandandah, April 26th, 2023

© Owen Smith 2023