Theodore Kappler
Don Congregational Cemetery
Died 21 Nov 1874,
Emu Bay
Age 29 years
Phenomena
First Death at Mount Bischoff
Our Emu Bay correspondent, writing on Tuesday evening, says: – Mr. Keppler, manager for Messrs. Cummings, Henry, and Co., died last Saturday just as preparations were being made to have him removed in a litter between two pack-horses. The body has been forwarded in a dray, and has just arrived at Jones’s Ship Inn.
The Examiner 28th November 1874
The death of Mr. Keppler, the Mining Manager, naturally raised the question where he should be buried, and, not so naturally, some objected to his being buried near the place where he had died; and though a place sepulture was selected, and a grave dug, the objectors proved themselves unyielding, and the remains had to be carried to Emu Bay on a dray. This successful opposition to a local burying-place, is sure to be imitated, and as such a long and rough journey in hot weather might lead to unpleasant circumstances, the necessity seems forced on the Government of setting aside a site for a grave-yard, and they can now more clearly see their way that they know where population is likely to settle.
The Mercury 10th December 1874
That empty grave at Waratah
Story of Remarkable Incident of 1873
(By Richard Hilder)
I had not visited the old mining township of Waratah for many a year. But in the autumn of 1914 I had a special call to conduct the Sunday services in the local Methodist Church, whose regular minister was detained on the Coast and could not arrive for Sunday. Taking the morning train for Burnie, I had a large part of Saturday afternoon to stroll round and endeavor to pick up the old landmarks I knew so well in my bullock team days from 1877 to 1884.
In the late hours of the afternoon I found myself peering over the Waratah River falls to the eastward of the Mr. Bischoff tin dressing sheds. A tumbledown cottage, at one time the police headquarters, but now inhabited by a family of domesticated goats, was nearby. At sight of it memory was instantly stirred, and I stood gazing on the wreckage that at one time had been a fairly comfortable dwelling surrounded by a garden, the ground enclosed by a strong picket fence. Standing outside this enclosure, not many yards away, a well-fenced greenswarded grave once existed.
But in 1914 I could observe no trace of either fence or grave. With a surging memory strangely associated with the early workings at this historic mining centre, I conjured up many things and endeavored to recall the names of many of Mount Bischoff’s original workers, whom I knew so well in earlier years.
I tried to remember the name of the pioneer stranger who was buried in the grave somewhere near where I stood, a miner who had died in this lonely locality as early as November, 1873; for somehow I had clear remembrances of the first death at lonely Bischoff occurring in that particular year. But a measure of uncertainty existed as to whether the deceased was buried by the roadside on Knole Plains or interred in the grave that could be seen at Waratah Falls.
Young Constable’s Singular Story
So rapt was my reverie that I did not observe I was an object of curiosity to a youthful policeman, who was disporting himself before the police head-quarters not many paces away. This guardian of the peace of Waratah at last became so overpowered by curiosity that he strolled across to where I sat and politely inquired if he could render me assistance, for he judged I was a stranger, or had returned to the old mining township after many years of absence and found it difficult to locate myself. I thanked the youthful disturber of my reverie and at once began to question him concerning the old fenced grave that stood hereabouts.
I was somewhat disconcerted by his reply, for he became mildly excited as he at once started to give me the following information: The grave I knew of had for long been neglected and its fence allowed to fall into decay because no person’s body had ever been buried in it. For sentimental reasons the fence had been erected around the grave that had been dug to bury the body of a fellow-workman who had succumbed to the rigorous climate of Mount Bischoff in 1873. But the corpse was not buried there. The man who died, and for whose corpse the grave was dug, was taken to the Coast for interment, and it was most probable that the burial took place at the Forth or Don, for at one or the other of those townships his employers lived.
After further questioning, my informant was unaware as to how the corpse was conveyed to Emu Bay, Forth or Don in those roadless days of 1873, but he was informed that a Mr. William Henry, of the Don River, had given instructions to Mr. William Crosby (manager of Mount Bischoff Tin Mining Company) to have the body of such a trustworthy employee sent down to the Coast for a decent burial. I questioned the young fellow’s statements, and inquired if his office had any police records of that date. He said he had found none such filed, but the story was a tradition of the police office, and was transferred from one officer to another.
Awaiting Confirmation
In February 1925, I was again at Waratah. Eleven years had elapsed since I heard the young constable’s story, and I confess that it had passed out of my mind, for I had much more serious things to engage my attention during the protracted war period from 1914 to 1919, in which I took part as father of soldiers.
But I was now carefree and enjoying a good holiday renewing some old acquaintances at Magnet and Waratah and breathing once more the clarified air sweeping around hoary old Mount Bischoff.
Through the courtesy of the Mount Bischoff Tin Mining Company’s manager (Mr. J. H. Levings), I was permitted to visit the old workings once more, under the able guidance of the company’s foreman. After viewing some of the spots I first visited in January, 1874, and feeling deeply interested in the present workings of the Brown Face, and contrasting it with the first alluvial working and the little stone-walled water dam in 1874, I turned my steps in order to pay respect to the resting place of an early-day miner whose body lay securely enfolded beneath the gnarled roots of sickly looking stringybark tree.
Gazing on this singular spot for interment produced a memory spasm, and recalled at once the reported unfilled grave overlooking the Waratah River Falls. Next morning, as I awaited the arrival of the service car from Burnie, I sought among the old residents of the township of Waratah for verification of the young constable’s story told to me in 1914, but none was forth-coming. But on arrival of the service car there alighted a real Waratah identity, well versed in the very earliest history of Mount Bischoff mining activities and the life and doings of the workmen engaged in the various hazardous and fatiguing occupations.
Story of the Empty Grave Confirmed.
This identity readily responded to my request concerning the history of the empty grave, and proceeded to outline some early history as follows: -
Throughout the year 1873 much developmental work followed the real mining work. There was commenced a shorter road than the Knole Plains route leading from the Waratah River Falls out to Rouse’s camp, conservation of water by the construction of several dams, gathering supplies of sawn timber for building, tramway rails, etc., all of which had to be cut by hand work on specially constructed bush saw-pits. In this general development work the Mount Bischoff Tin Mining Company was joined by the Don Co. and the Stanhope Company. There were many workmen employed who lived in tents or rough huts clustered at the base or higher up the sides of Mount Bischoff. The old mount at that period was thickly clothed with horizontal scrub, and from its base a vast green myrtle forest reached out for miles in every direction.
Names of Early Workmen.
Through the courtesy of Mr. David Blizzard, Mr. Hugh Dempster and Mr. Richard Gardner (all of whom live in Burnie), I am able to give readers many names of the early workers at Mount Bischoff in 1872, 1873 and 1874, viz.: John Laptham, Sen., John Sutton, Sen., Sam Weatherall, Billy Cummingham, Jack Brown, John Richards, George Eastman, Captain Beecraft, H. Keoppler, William M. Crosby, Charles L. Hall, George Scott, Sam Turner, Hugh Dempster, Tom Gardner, John Lapham, Jun., William Russell, Auld Rekie, John Sutton Jun., George Sutton, William Russell, Ted O’Reilly, Richard Gardner, David Blizzard, William Coventry, Harry Alford, Robert Alford, Frank Harvey, Jack Harvey, Con. Harvey, Martin Healey, James Cryan, Pat. Harvey, William Walters, Harry Walters, William Maine, George Woodward, William Revell, Jack Powe, Ben Tetlow, and William Lennard.
William M. Crosby, George Scott and C. H. Hall were manager and staff of the Mount Bischoff Tim Mining Company; Capt. E. Beecraft was manager of the Stanhope Mining Company, and H. Keoppler acted in like capacity for the Don Company.
Let us now return to the old identity’s story. Continuing, he said: “The winter and spring of 1873 had been sorely wet and most of the workmen were exposed not only to the heavy rains, but also to the drenching deluges that repeatedly came down from the heavily-laden branches of the green myrtle trees. Snowfalls were frequent; also bitter, biting frosts and the ground underfoot was a continuous quagmire. But the work had to proceed, and those intrepid workers (many of them green-hands too!) braved the elements while cutting down trees; grubbing out rocks and roots, cross-cutting logs for the saw-pits and bulk heads of water dams and actually hauling or rolling such into proper positions, for no horses were available. Working from ankle-deep to knee-deep in slush or water it was impossible to keep clothing dry, and the men on returning from work found their tents or huts cheerless indeed, for no women-folk had as yet taken up residence at Bischoff. Huge fires could be readily made, for the wood of the white myrtle tree, even when quite green, was an excellent burner. So drying clothes for next day’s use was a usual night-time pastime, combined with the preparation of food, etc.”
Don Co.’s Manager Falls Sick.
Under such conditions for working, the wonder was that sickness was not more prevalent, but the chief ailment among the men was a disposition to indigestion in various forms, due no doubt to lack of change of diet, for no green vegetables were available. But Keoppler, who was apparently a very strong man and a great toiler, broke down under the rigorous work and climate, and was compelled to lay up. His companions rendered all the help they could while free from their own work, but the poor fellow grew worse, so Manager Crosby, with kindly thoughtfulness, advised his removal from the lower regions of the mountain to a comfortable hut near the Brown Face. John Lapham, Sen., was placed in full attendance on the sufferer, who was evidently hard hit by some serious lung disorder (probably pneumonia). So serious did his illness appear to Manager Crosby that he contemplated obtaining medical attention for the stricken man, but to do so was a colossal task in the month of November, 1873.
Dr. Thomas Wilson, an aged man, lived at the Doctor’s Rocks, on the main Coast road, four miles from Wynyard. Dr. E. B. E. Walker lived on his farm on the main Coast road a few miles west of Ulverstone. After consideration, Manager Crosby decided to call up Dr. Walker and made preparations accordingly.
David Blizzard Goes for the Doctor
After writing a letter fully describing the sick man’s symptoms, Manager Crosby called in a young married man named David Blizzard, to whom he expressed the wish that he should take the letter for delivery to Dr. Walker – fully 60 miles away. He urged David to start early next morning for that long dreary walk to Emu Bay (50 miles), and if possible, reach Dr. Walker’s that night and return with him next day – a well-nigh-impossible task. He further gave David a note for the late Capt. Wm. Jones to provide a horse for the journey to Dr. Walker’s. At daylight David set out by the newly blazed track to Surrey Hills station (now Guildford Junction), and then turning northward, proceeded towards Hampshire Hills. The cart road had been little used for carting during the winter and spring, and on its forest parts there was a great litter of fallen scrub and tree branches. There was also much broken corduroy and the usual boggy and stony patches. Not a single habitation could be seen the whole distance from Surrey Hills till nearing Emu Bay. David struggled gamely all day, and at nightfall sighted a small tenement six miles from Emu Bay. It was occupied by a worthy couple named Rutter. Here the tired pedestrian got hospitality for the night and prepared for an early start next morning.
Let David Blizzard Continue His Story
He says: “I got an early start for Emu Bay. I felt very stiff until I warmed up a bit. I arrived at the Bay (via old Surrey Hills road) in time for breakfast, and fortunately fell in with Capt. Wm. Jones at once. I found the horse I was to ride was out at the Uplands farm near Cooee Creek. The captain kindly sent a man out for it, and he insisted I should have a good breakfast and a bit of a rest before going further. When the horse arrived I felt much disappointment, it was not a riding hack, but a half-draught, I was to take back to Mr. Bischoff. I was provided with a good saddle and bridle and at once mounted the shaggy heeled steed and set out for Dr. Walker’s farm, fully 16 miles away, by a sandy, rocky road, not a single foot of which was properly metalled. It was a far more tedious and suffering journey than foot padding from Bischoff the previous day. I had to work my passage with painful sensations.
“I found Dr. Walker at home, and without delay he read Manager Crosby’s letter, then expressed his opinion that Manager Keoppler could not live. However, he said he would go back with me to Mr. Bischoff and see for himself, but it would be a few hours before he was ready. He told me to look after my horse and take some rest, and that we would be able to reach the township of Emu Bay that night.
The Return Journey
“Late in the afternoon Dr. Walker and I set out on the first stage of that tiring journey back to Mount Bischoff. Arriving at Emu Bay, we put up for the night at Mrs. Wiseman’s hostelry in the Marine Terrace. I was kindly treated, for I was skin-sore and felt a bit exhausted, and dreaded the further journey the following day. The doctor and I rose early in preparation for an early start, but discovered that Dr. Walker’s horse had cast a shoe. To get that shoe on took till 10 a.m. then we were ready for that long fatiguing journey to Mount Bischoff.
“I took a tomahawk in order to cut away the straggling scrub we would encounter about our horses’ legs and overhead while riding through the forest parts of the road. Without any serious mishaps we travelled slowly together, making occasionally brief stops to stretch our weary limbs, for we were both stiff and sore. In successive stages we passed Hampshire Hills, Surrey Hills and the Hellyer River ford, and through the blazed tree track from Surrey Hills to the myrtle forest, reaching the Mount at 11 o’clock that night. Dr. Walker at once attended the stricken miner, but his case was hopeless. John Lapham was complimented for his success, and I was appointed his assistant, continued to help till Keoppler died a few days later.”
That Desperate Funeral March
Dr. Walker’s skill failed to arrest the galloping consumption, so Manager Keoppler died at lonely Bischoff. He was unattended by a clergyman, but was sympathetically mourned by his fellow workers. Before his death Dr. Walker had returned to his home on the Coast. Several eyewitnesses have given a description of the scenes following Keoppler’s decease. They vary slightly, so the following appears to have been the happenings.
Carpenter Weatherall constructed a coffin from the hand-sawn timber available, and with reverent hands the deceased man’s body was prepared and placed in it by his kind-hearted comrades. It was decided to bury the corpse at the top of the Waratah River Falls and preparations were made accordingly. The tramway line from the Mount Bischoff Company’s claim to the falls had already been marked out and a narrow track cut. This track was further cleared out to make it passable for the coffin-bearers, thus avoiding the vile quagmire known as Bog Lane. A grave was dug in the dry, red earth on the eastern side of the Waratah River Falls, as it was considered certain that a township would start from that point. The day and hour for the funeral were arranged, but entirely unforeseen circumstances prevented those admirable arrangements being fully carried out. It was a sunny afternoon, so the coffin was brought out and placed in the open air. All mining and other work was suspended, and the men were preparing themselves to attend this singular funeral.
Suddenly there appeared at the foot of the mountain a small party of horsemen headed by the late Mr. William Henry, Sen., of Don River. It appears that after Dr. Walker returned to his home on the Coast he reported his opinion, that Manager Keoppler would die, to the directorate and officials of the Don Mining Company, so Mr. Henry, greatly desiring that the body of their deceased manager should be brought to the Coast for what he termed decent burial, made up a small party and set out for Mount Bischoff in order to secure his wish. Arriving at Emu Bay, he secured the consent of Matthias Alexander, a well-known carter, to take a couple of his best horses and an empty dray, and proceed by that desperate road to Bischoff, to bring Manager Keoppler’s body down to the Coast at all hazards.
Alexander knew the hazards were numerous, and insisted on a payment of ten pounds before he would venture on the journey. Having obtained a guarantee for this amount, Alexander harnessed his horses to a light horse-dray – it had no springs of any kind – then taking a food supply of horse-feed and a boy for company, he at once set out, and at the time Mr. Henry and party joined the funeral party Alexander was resting his jaded team at the south end of Bog Lane. The scene around the coffin of the deceased manager became intense and exciting, Mr. Henry declaring in no uncertain voice his intention to have the corpse taken to the Coast for burial, demanding that Manager William Crosby should have his intentions obeyed. On the other side a strong desire was apparent among the men to adhere to the Bischoff arrangements and bury Keoppler’s body in the prepared grave at Waratah River falls. After some demurring, Mr. Henry’s strongly-expressed wish was assented to by Manager Crosby and others, and with exceedingly mixed feelings the cortege moved off slowly for the waiting horse-dray, and what a track it was down from the Mount with a bower of thick horizontal scrub overhead and big white granite boulders underfoot, then through the evil smelling slush of Bog Lane. There was keen division among the bearers almost amounting to a struggle of main strength, for it was a bitter disappointment to many of the dead man’s companions – men who had shared all the hazards of a comrade’s life at Mount Bischoff. After much agitated conversation and open hostility by some members of the funeral company, the coffin was finally deposited – among a litter of straw and horse gear – safely into Alexander’s horse-dray, which was well covered in by an oiled tilt cloth, and preparation was made to move off back to Emu Bay.
The Humanitarian Touch
Before Alexander actually left Bog Lane on his journey eastward he was addressed by a spokesman for the men and greatly praised for his humanitarian action in coming all the desperate journey in order to convey the body of their comrade to the Coast, and they could not let him depart without some monetary compensation, but as working men they could not give largely, and had subscribed the sum of ten pounds among themselves, which it was trusted would in some small measure compensate for his rigorous trip as yet only half accomplished. Matthias Alexander was moved almost to tears at this unexpected generosity of his fellow-men, and without further speech pocketed the ten pounds so spontaneously offered, and with hurried farewells started his team for Knole Plain, where he arrived safely that night.
Unfortunately bad weather set in and the rivers and creeks rose tremendously. The River Hellyer was particularly difficult to ford in its swollen state. Alexander and his lad were forced to sleep in the covered dray for protection from the weather, and had a corpse for company!
After capsizes and other exploits the dray reached Emu Bay three days after leaving Bog Lane. It was a great tale for Matthias to tell to eager listeners in after-years.
Empty Grave Filled and Fenced
The consensus of opinion supports the story told by the young constable in 1914, and the disappointed work-mates of the deceased Keoppler reverently filled in the grave that had been dug at Waratah River Falls, then placed a head and foot-board on it made from hard blackwood, afterwards fencing the grave securely. It remained a silent memento of comrades’ devotion, for many years, but ultimately, through the removal of the originals, it became uncared for and would have passed into utter oblivion but for the unconstrained curiosity of the Waratah policeman.
After Keoppler’s body reached Emu Bay I can find no further trace of what became of it, though I have made a diligent search at Forth, Don and elsewhere.
Conclusion
I do not write this story for sensational purposes, but I do desire through the agency of “The Advocate”, to give this pen-picture to the present generation of the actual disabilities endured by those few intrepid pioneers who, without mails or newspapers for months on stretch, and neither telegraph nor telephone nor a single present-day facility, opened up the treasures of Mount Bischoff, which in turn assisted Tasmania to take her frequently envied position among mineral producing countries of the world. Hats off to the pioneers of Mount Bischoff.
The Advocate 25th July 1927