Pompey Elliott

by Ross McMullin

Overview

Updated to include a foreword by Les Carlyon, this comprehensive, rich biography of the great Australian general vividly examines Elliott's origins and youth, his peacetime careers as a lawyer and politician, and the achievements as well as the controversies that he aroused during his years as a soldier. Also highlighted are notable battles Elliott influenced, including the Gallipoli Landing, Lone Pine, Fromelles, Polygon Wood, and Villers-Bretonneux, and numerous aspects of Australia's history during his lifetime.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781921372018
Publisher:	Scribe Publications Party Limited
Publication date:	05/01/2009
Pages:	736
Product dimensions:	5.30(w) x 8.20(h) x 2.00(d)

About the Author

Ross McMullin is a historian and biographer. He is the author of The Light on the Hill, So Monstrous a Travesty, and Will Dyson: Australia’s Radical Genius.

Read an Excerpt

Pompey Elliott

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By Ross McMullin, Catherine Magree

Scribe Publications Pty Ltd

Copyright © 2002 Ross McMullin
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-921942-73-0

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CHAPTER 1

'Awkward Bush Shyness': Straitened upbringing 1878–1894

HAROLD EDWARD ELLIOTT, who was to become a household name in Australia as 'Pompey' Elliott, was born in West Charlton, Victoria, in humble circumstances on 19 June 1878. His parents, English-born immigrants Thomas and Helen Elliott, were part of the great wave of migration attracted by the marvellous gold discoveries that transformed the colony of Victoria.

Helen had been only three years old when she arrived in Melbourne with her brother, sister, and parents in December 1852. Her father, Thomas Frederick Janverin, a handsome man with a full dark beard, was a house-painter. His Janverin ancestors, many of them mariners, had been based for two centuries in and around Southhampton and previously at Jersey in the Channel Islands. The unusual name of Thomas's great-grandfather, Moody Janverin, presumably reflected a tribute to his grandmother (who was Mary Moody before she married John Janverin in 1673) rather than a grumpy disposition: Moody and his wife Martha reputedly had no fewer than nineteen children. A shipbuilder for the Royal Navy, Moody had shipyards at several coastal spots near Southhampton, and the sea and the ships that sailed in it also dominated the lives of most of his children. Two of Moody's grandsons became officers in the British navy; one, Thomas Janverin's father, served on Lord Nelson's flagship and participated at the battle of Trafalgar.

With such a nautical heritage Thomas Janverin would have felt less intimidated than most Britons in 1852 by the prospect of a daunting voyage to the other side of the world. When news of the staggering Victorian gold discoveries reached England he was residing in London, where he had married Helen Watley in January 1847. Helen was the daughter of a publican and the niece of a famous general who commanded the cavalry in the Duke of Wellington's army. Thomas and Helen became parents five months after their wedding, when their son Frederick was born. They had their second child, Helen, who was to become Harold Elliott's mother, in September 1849; another daughter, Maria Louisa, was born two years later. Whatever Janverin was managing to earn as a painter of London houses was dwarfed by the stupendous riches reportedly awaiting adventurers prepared to try their luck at Ballarat or Mount Alexander (Castlemaine). The reports that galvanised Britain in April 1852 were so euphoric that hundreds of thousands concluded that they only had to get themselves there to make a fortune. Janverin applied for financially assisted migration under a scheme designed to attract to the Port Phillip district particular types of workers whose skills were in short supply. He was successful, and the family departed on the Bombay in August.

Travelling from England to Australia in 1852 was a daunting undertaking, even for someone from a seafaring family. Once out on the open sea, many immigrants had misgivings about their bold venture when white-crested blue-green mountains buffeted their lonely vessel, flooding the decks, and turning the cabins into a chaotic 'shambles of broken crockery, scattered personal effects and reeling, seasick passengers'. Living conditions on board were primitive; disease was an insidious threat, and shipboard hazards were rife, especially for families such as the Janverins with toddlers and infants. Of the Bombay's 798 passengers and crew, 24 did not survive the journey.

Thomas and his family reached Melbourne safely just before Christmas 1852. Some assisted migrants headed straight for the goldfields, but Thomas remained in Melbourne to do the work he had been recruited to perform. The family had settled in St Kilda by April 1853, when they had to endure the loss of little Maria Louisa who died at the age of eighteen months. Helen became pregnant again, but suffered a miscarriage in February 1854 and developed peritonitis. Thomas watched her gradually decline until life ebbed away from her altogether at the age of 33; he was present when she died. Having arrived full of hope only fourteen months earlier, he was now a desolate widower with sole responsibility for two youngsters in a land he had every reason to curse after what he had already suffered during his brief time in it.

In an attempt to retrieve his fortunes, Thomas decided to join the gold seekers. Leaving his children in the care of relatives of his wife who had also emigrated to Australia, he set off to try his luck like thousands of others. Many found the heavy physical exertion beyond them, but he remained a miner for fourteen years. As he toiled perseveringly to eke out a living on the diggings, his daughter Helen eventually joined him (Fred preferred New Zealand).

Although he moved about like most diggers, Thomas apparently spent most of his mining years in and around Maryborough. In March 1863 there was a major rush to a field five miles south-east of Maryborough named Majorca. Six men made £800 there in three weeks. There were 250 shops and stores already operating in May, and when winter turned Majorca into a sea of mud some 10,000 miners were clustered there. Twelve months later, when new leads had reinforced interest in Majorca, Janverin's presence there was confirmed by a written agreement between two diggers formally witnessed by him in July 1864. By 1867 he was based near Talbot, about eight miles south-west of Majorca, at a settlement named Cockatoo, where Helen was keeping company with a miner much closer to her father's age than her own. That miner was Thomas Elliott.

Born at Newton-by-the-Sea in the most northerly tip of England, Thomas Elliott had also crossed the world in search of the precious metal, arriving in Australia in the mid-1850s. He was the eldest son of Robert, a Northumberland colliery proprietor, and Eleanor, first cousin of the celebrated inventor of the locomotive engine, George Stephenson. Financially the Elliotts had been relatively comfortable, but a sharp decline in the profitability of his father's collieries convinced Thomas his prospects would be better in Australia.

The Elliotts, like the Janverins, were proud of their heritage. According to family lore, they were descendants of the Elliott clan who had been prominent in the fierce skirmishes along the Anglo-Scottish border. Thomas, tall and powerfully built, reputedly had five Elliott uncles, all over six feet in height, in the prestigious Life Guards. The family had also involved themselves prominently in politics. Robert was a close associate of Sir George Grey, a senior minister in a number of British governments; a series of lectures in Illinois by Eleanor's brother helped Abraham Lincoln become United States President; and one of Thomas's younger brothers, Robert, became a political activist. However, what attracted Thomas Elliott more than politics — in fact, more than just about anything — was travel. The discovery of gold in such abundance in Australia was an irresistible magnet.

Just getting there was an adventure in itself, and once he adjusted to his new surroundings he found goldfields life congenial. The free-and-easy roving appealed to him, his sturdy frame could handle the heavy toil involved, and he was attracted by the elusive combination of good fortune, shrewdness, and hard work that underpinned success. Early on he fossicked at Sandhurst (Bendigo) and Ballarat. During the 1860s he apparently concentrated on the Amherst-Talbot diggings, where he became acquainted with Thomas Janverin and his daughter. Helen was very attractive. Not much over five feet in height, she had pretty features and a spirited nature, and her experiences had endowed her with a maturity beyond her years. At some of the more isolated diggings, where there were few or no other non-Aboriginal women, she acted as the field's unofficial 'doctor', dispensing rough-and-ready medical advice and treatment to all comers, including some Aboriginals (although they terrified her). With women so outnumbered in these goldfields communities, she attracted many an appreciative glance. But Thomas Elliott was the man for her, and they were married on Christmas Eve 1867 at St Michael's Church of England, Talbot. She was 18, he was 38, and perhaps some sensitivity about the difference was the reason for his age being understated by two years on the marriage certificate.

The newly-weds began married life at Cockatoo. Twelve months later they became parents, when Helen gave birth to Robert Norman Janverin Elliott. By 1870 they were ensconced in a dwelling of their own at Amherst and also had a baby daughter, Helen Margaret (Nell). Thomas, as one of a party of eight men who had registered themselves as the Talbot Gold Mining Company, was working a sixteen-acre claim at Mount Greenock, a prominent landmark near Talbot. By mid-1871 he was back at Cockatoo, working on a seven-acre claim with six new partners, but he moved on again before long. A year later he and four others, who had saluted his famous relative by registering themselves as the Sir George Stephenson Gold Mining Company, were making promising progress at the popular Talbot lead known as Rocky Flat.

However, that claim must have proved as ultimately inadequate as all the others, because Thomas decided to abandon his search for a golden fortune. Like all miners, he had dreamed that one day his persistent toil would be rewarded and he would find himself looking in wonder at a strike so rich that he would never have to work again. His reluctant decision to turn away from this dream reflected the harsh reality that its fulfilment was experienced by only a tiny minority of gold seekers; most could barely manage to make enough to live on. Also influential was the arrival of another daughter, Florence Mary. Even without pressure from Helen, wandering all over the countryside hunting for gold with little success was hardly appropriate now he had a wife and three young children to look after. It was time to settle down and provide more stability for the family, whether he felt like doing it or not.

He opted to tackle something he had never tried before: farming. Being a farmer had some similarities to gold seeking. There was the same vigorous outdoor life, wrestling with the soil to extract wealth from it, and the independence of being one's own boss. Many other miners who, like Thomas, were discouraged by their diminishing returns from goldmining, also decided that farming was more palatable than the other alternatives open to them, such as becoming a wage slave in a factory.

Miners turned to farming in large numbers because land was so freely available. For decades there had been a fierce struggle over access to rural land in Australia. On one side were the squatters, who had grabbed the best land in large quantities and were unimpressed by any suggestion that they were not entitled to keep what they had. Their opponents wanted to 'unlock the lands' to make them more available to small farmers. Previous attempts by the Victorian parliament to respond to the insistent clamour for land reform had been stymied by the squatters, but legislation in 1869 proved more successful. Under this version an aspiring farmer could select a block of up to 320 acres and live on it under licence for three years while making certain stipulated improvements to it and paying an annual rent of two shillings per acre. At the end of that three-year period the selector could either continue to pay the annual rental for seven more years until the full purchase price of £320 had been paid, or become the outright owner of the selection immediately by paying all the balance owing.

A suitable block was obviously crucial to success, and making the right choice was a tricky business. This vital decision was often made by newcomers to farming who were unfamiliar with the area they were considering and inexperienced about agriculture generally. In March 1874 Thomas Elliott chose a block five miles west of Charlton, a small township on the Avoca river about 150 miles north-west of Melbourne. This district, in which white settlement had first occurred when squatters arrived in the 1840s, was very popular among the new wave of aspiring farmers. The influx of selectors responding to the 1869 legislation led to a rapid growth in population and development in and around Charlton during the 1870s. There were 'selectors everywhere' and 'bush tracks alive with bullock drays and horse waggons loaded with household goods', reported a local newspaper in June 1874.

Among the many new settlers in the region was Thomas Janverin. Having given up gold seeking, he had returned to Melbourne; residing in Collingwood, he had resumed his old calling of house-painting. With Helen now the only survivor of the wife and three children he had brought to Australia (Fred having drowned in New Zealand), Janverin, now 54, decided to join his daughter's growing family in their new farming venture by selecting a block next to his son-in-law's. Any misgivings Janverin had about his suitability as a farmer were outweighed by the prospect of moving back to the bush alongside Helen and the grandchildren. This was much more attractive than seeing out his days on his own in the big smoke, too far away to see much of them.

The first task for selectors was to clear their land sufficiently to enable cultivation to commence. Compared to selections in some other parts of Victoria, Gippsland in particular, the Elliott and Janverin properties were only moderately timbered; but there were more than enough box and gum trees to make this task very onerous (even if it did generate plenty of timber for housing, fencing, and firewood). The family were not blessed with an easy initiation. Their first summer was a particularly bad one for bushfires, and the ensuing winter brought a damaging flood, followed by 'the most fearful gale one could imagine', which demolished mighty trees and selectors' primitive dwellings with devastating impartiality. It was not long before the Elliott-Janverin partnership began to struggle in this new environment; they lacked the sort of capital that would have enabled them to overcome their difficulties without assistance. In October 1875 Janverin wrote to the Lands minister, admitting that 'in consequence of many unforseen expenses we are not in a position to pay rent of both selections', and asking for an extension of three months for the payment then due from his son-in-law. His request was granted. It was not the last such appeal they would feel impelled to make.

Meanwhile Helen was pregnant again, and she gave birth to her fourth child early the following year. He was named Thomas Frederick in honour of his proud grandfather, who could easily hear his crying late at night in all but the wildest weather, so close were the neighbouring huts the family were building. However, after a tragic incident that left him with severe burns and scalds when he was only six months old, the child's heartrending wailing was acutely distressing. Despite medical attention, he lapsed into a coma nineteen days later and died.

Helen became pregnant again around the first anniversary of his death. When she gave birth to a son in June 1878 it was hardly surprising that she cherished and nurtured him with especially devoted attention. They decided to call the baby Harold Edward. Many years later, having become a household name in Australia as 'Pompey' Elliott, he acknowledged that his mother had been the main influence in his upbringing.

Home for baby Harold was a two-room hut made of timber, iron, and bark. His father had also built a barn of similar size and a slightly larger shed, both of wood and bark, as well as constructing a dam. The Elliott selection was rectangular in shape, with the longer sides running north-south; Thomas had just finished fencing its entire perimeter. The terrain sloped noticeably. The farm's highest point, where the hut was situated, was near the middle of the western edge; from there the ground descended gradually in every direction. That western edge coincided with the eastern boundary of Janverin's selection, with only a straight narrow track separating them.

When Harold was born his father and grandfather were in the process of completing the stipulated improvements necessary for a three-year licence to be upgraded to a lease. Each had cultivated well over the required 10 per cent minimum of their selection (Janverin cropping wheat, his son-in-law mostly wheat with oats and barley as well), but both needed extra time to complete their fencing. As Janverin explained to the Lands minister,

my means being small I have had to expend so much time in cropping, the produce of which I have had to expend in great part on farm machinery, added to which I have had a long and severe illness which for many months rendered me incapable of the slightest exertion.

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from Pompey Elliott by Ross McMullin, Catherine Magree. Copyright © 2002 Ross McMullin. Excerpted by permission of Scribe Publications Pty Ltd.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Table of Contents

Contents

Maps / Charts of formations and commanders,
Formations in the military hierarchy,
Abbreviations in the text / Conversions,
The family tree,
Foreword,
Introduction,
One: 'Awkward Bush Shyness': Straitened upbringing, 1878–1894,
Two: 'A Very Glutton for Work': Striving for glittering prizes, 1894–1900,
Three: 'Your Brilliant Record': The Boer War, 1900–1902,
Four: 'Utmost Energy and Concentrated Perseverance': Solicitor and militiaman, husband and father, 1903–August 1914,
Five: 'He Knows How to Make Soldiers': Preparing the 7th Battalion, August 1914–April 1915,
Six: 'Hardly Any Left of the Poor Old 7th Battalion': Initiation at Gallipoli, April–May 1915,
Seven: 'May I Never See Another War': Steele's Post and Lone Pine, June–August 1915,
Eight: 'Great and Fearful Responsibility': Evacuation and elevation, September 1915–June 1916,
Nine: 'The Slaughter Was Dreadful': The battle of Fromelles, June–July 1916,
Ten: 'I Really Cannot Imagine How They Live Through It': Winter at the Somme, August 1916–March 1917,
Eleven: 'Simply Paralysing the Old Boche': Pursuit to the Hindenburg Line, March 1917,
Twelve: 'Too Weary and Worn for Words': Bullecourt and a well-earned rest, April–August 1917,
Thirteen: 'I Would Have Gladly Welcomed a Shell to End Me': The battle of Polygon Wood, September–November 1917,
Fourteen: 'Terribly Depressed and Pessimistic': Another gloomy winter, November 1917–March 1918,
Fifteen: 'Never So Proud of Being an Australian': Resisting the German onslaught, March–April 1918,
Sixteen: 'The Most Brilliant Feat of Arms in the War': The battle of Villers-Bretonneux, April 1918,
Seventeen: 'A Profound Sense of Injustice': The supersession grievance, May 1918,
Eighteen: 'As Usual My Boys Were ... Just Splendid': Relentless offensive, June–November 1918,
Nineteen: 'Very Sad About Everything': Painful adjustment to peace, November 1918–June 1919,
Twenty: 'No Obligation at All to the National Party': Into parliament, June 1919–July 1920,
Twenty-One: 'A Special Desk in This Chamber' for the War Historian: Period of 'Elliott's Exuberance', July 1920–1921,
Twenty-Two: 'Finest and Most Authoritative Advocate' for Returned Soldiers: The aftermath of war 1921–1925,
Twenty-Three: 'We Feel It Was Long Overdue': Major-General at last, 1925–1929,
Twenty-Four: 'The Injustice ... Has Actually Colored All My Post War Life': Disintegration, 1929–March 1931,
Twenty-Five: 'Thousands of Diggers Will Truly Mourn for Pompey': Afterwards, March 1931–,
Select Bibliography,
Notes,
Acknowledgments,