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Updated: June 27, 2025
And what a pity, as my companion observes not that our good and jolly miller, the very representative of the old English yeomanry, should be so rich, but that one consequence of his riches should be the pulling down of the prettiest old mill that ever looked at itself in the Loddon, with the picturesque, low-browed, irregular cottage, which stood with its light-pointed roof, its clustered chimneys, and its ever-open door, looking like the real abode of comfort and hospitality, to build this huge, staring, frightful, red-brick mill, as ugly as a manufactory, and this great square house, ugly and red to match, just behind.
"We can't be move than five miles from the Loddon, and if we follow the left bank of the river long enough we shall reach Wright's station, where we can get something to eat, and perhaps be sure of a welcome." "Humph," grunted Mr. Brown, "your directions are not very plain, and you seem to be in doubt whether we will fare well or ill after we gain the farm.
It would not do to walk to-day, professedly to walk, we should be frightened at the very sound! and yet it is probable that we may be beguiled into a pretty long stroll before we return home. We are going to drive to the old house at Aberleigh, to spend the morning under the shade of those balmy firs, and amongst those luxuriant rose trees, and by the side of that brimming Loddon river.
I have a distinct impression that I was thinking on the subject when sleep overtook me, and when I was awakened Mr. Brown was already rolling up his blankets and making his toilet. "Come," he exclaimed, "let us be stirring before sunrise, and by ten o'clock we can reach the banks of the Loddon. Get the kettle from the pack, and we will have a cup of coffee for breakfast."
Thus commenced the gold diggings of New South Wales. The good people of Victoria were rather jealous of the importance given by these events to the other colony. Committees were formed, and rewards were offered for the discovery of a gold-field in Victoria. The announcement of the Clunes Diggings in July, 1851, was the result; they were situated on a tributary of the Loddon.
Guided by a repetition of the whistle, I soon saw my trusty adherent spanning the chasm like a Colossus, one foot on one bank, the other on the opposite each of which appeared to me to be resting, so to say, on nothing tugging away at a long twig that grew on the brink of the precipice, and exceedingly likely to resolve the inquiry as to the source of the Loddon, by plumping souse into the fountain-head.
Thames, Kennet, Loddon all overflowed; our famous town, inland once, turned into a sort of Venice; C. park converted into an island; and the long range of meadows from B. to W. one huge unnatural lake, with trees growing out of it. Oh what a watery world! I will look at it no longer. I will walk on. The road is alive again. Noise is reborn.
In about two hours time we gained the banks of the Loddon, and quenched our thirst with its pure water, and then followed the stream along for a number of miles until we began to approach signs of cultivation, when we struck a very good road that apparently had been used for the carting of water to the farm house.
Of the great river of England whose course from its earliest source, near Cirencester, to where it rolls calm, equable, and full, through the magnificent bridges of our splendid metropolis, giving and reflecting beauty,* presents so grand an image of power in repose it is not now my purpose to speak; nor am I about to expatiate on that still nearer and dearer stream, the pellucid Loddon, although to be rowed by one dear and near friend up those transparent and meandering waters, from where they sweep at their extremest breadth under the lime-crowned terraces of the Old Park at Aberleigh, to the pastoral meadows of Sandford, through which the narrowed current wanders so brightly now impeded by beds of white water-lilies, or feathery-blossomed bulrushes, or golden flags now overhung by thickets of the rich wayfaring tree, with its wealth of glorious berries, redder and more transparent than rubies now spanned from side to side by the fantastic branches of some aged oak; although to be rowed along that clear stream, has long been amongst the choicest of my summer pleasures, so exquisite is the scenery, so perfect and so unbroken the solitude.
Mount Simpson and Mount Terrengower marked the southern point where the boundary of the Loddon district cuts the 144th meridian. As yet they had not met with any of the aboriginal tribes living in the savage state.
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