Melbourne’s golden heart

The Old Treasury Building in Melbourne is a marvel. Partly a marvel of miscalculation but mostly a marvel of design. Imagine walking into this ambitious, Italian Renaissance-inspired masterpiece designed by a teenager in 1857. Oh, you heard me. John James Clark was born in Liverpool in 1838 and emigrated to Melbourne with his family in 1849—when the city was a sleepy little burg. But we'll get back to him in a minute.

 

All through the 1840s, the Port Phillip District (what later became the state of Victoria) agitated to separate itself from the colony of New South Wales. They were crabby at their perceived neglect by the distant colonial government in Sydney. It wasn’t until 1850, though, that the British Parliament allowed the creation of new Australian colonies. Sydney was likely glad to be rid of the annoying pests in the south ,* and they quickly set July 1, 1851, as the date for formal separation.

Melbourne in 1838 from the Yarra Yarra, Clarence Woodhouse
Melbourne in 1838 from the Yarra Yarra, Clarence Woodhouse

Unforeseen by anyone was the discovery of gold in was justthisclose-to-becoming-its-own-colony-Victoria.** Suddenly, Melbourne wasn’t so sleepy anymore. Instead, immediately after becoming its own boss, the city turned into a chaotic frenzy of hope and desperation. Starting with roughly 23,000 residents in 1851, Melbourne’s population ballooned to 300,000 by 1854, exceeding that of Sydney.*** Good luck keeping up with the infrastructure to support that kind of growth.

Canvas Town, between Prince's Bridge and South Melbourne in 1850s
Canvas Town, between Prince's Bridge and South Melbourne in 1850s

Amidst all this mayhem, city fathers grew terrified about how to manage and protect the rivers of gold flowing into the city. And that is when they decided they needed a full-on Treasury. And because they were rich now,†† they also decided it had to be big and beautiful to reflect the city’s new status and station. The biggest. And the beautifulest.

 

So they had a competition. And who won this beauty contest? John James Clark, of course.†††

 

A 19-year-old just doodled what would become one of Australia's architectural crown jewels. He was probably trying to avoid algebra homework—or worse, The Talk from his father—and thought, “What the heck, I reckon I'll design a monumental building today.” Thus was the Old Treasury born.

The design and construction of the Old Treasury Building were ambitious, conceived as they were in the heady days of the gold rush when Melbourne was flush with cash. Clark’s original plans were grandiose, and everyone was 100% behind them. But gold rushes being somewhat unpredictable, economic realities and budget constraints meant that not all of his extravagant designs could be realized.

 

I mean, it’s still a masterpiece of 19th-century architecture. Its robust design and secure basement vaults made it an ideal location for storing the immense quantities of gold transported from the goldfields to Melbourne. It also underscored Melbourne's role as Australia's financial capital.

The basement vaults were also, weirdly, home to the building’s caretaker and his family, the Maynards, in the 1920s. Mr. Maynard and the missus had eight kids. Eight. And they all lived in five basement rooms, surrounded by more gold than you’d find in a pirate's fever dream, but tasked with the glamorous job of dusting, mopping, and generally keeping the place spick and span. Mr. Maynard, the superintendent, was Keeper of the Keys, Lord of the Ledgers, and the unofficial Guardian of the Gold. Mrs. Maynard moonlighted as the governor's personal kitchen maid, whipping up afternoon tea as if the colony's fate depended on the perfect cuppa.

 

Their children? Unofficially, one of the world’s first live-in security systems. “Mama, who’s that rough-looking man in the vault?” I’d like to think their life was a hysterical blend of Home Alone meets The Italian Job, but I bet it was more Oliver. “Don't disturb the Governor, Bobby, or I’ll give your ear a good cuff. Go play with the bullion.”

The Old Treasury is a testament to what happens when you mix massive amounts of gold, a dash of architectural bravura, and a bit of good old-fashioned Australian "Why the hell not, mate?” What’s amazing to me is that the gold rush really only lasted 10 or 12 years. By the early 1860s, easy surface gold and the most accessible alluvial gold deposits were exhausted. The mining shifted from individual prospectors to more capital-intensive mining operations. Which means that Melbourne’s explosive growth was just that—explosive.

The gold rush set the stage for Melbourne's prosperity, driving insane population growth, infrastructure development, and global reputation. But the city has faced a number of booms and busts over the years since. The city benefited from its status as a major Australian financial center. The establishment of the Port of Melbourne and the city's role as the temporary capital of Australia for 20 years at the beginning of the 20th century helped development, too.

 

The mid- to late-20th century presented challenges for Melbourne, as for many cities around the world. But Melbourne had adapted and transformed itself, investing in its cultural capital, education sector, and knowledge-based industries, contributing to its reputation as a vibrant, livable city with a strong economy.

 

We love it.

 

Wait…wasn’t this a story about the Treasury? How’d we get here?

 

Too much whiskey, clearly.


* Sydney and Melbourne have been bitter frenemies since the very beginning. Sydney likely heaved a collective sigh of relief hidden beneath a veil of bureaucratic indifference. [fanning faces] “Oh no, how will we ever cope without little Melbourne gnatting about with its incessant demands for attention and resources?” It's as if Sydney, with a twinkle in its eye, handed over the reins to Melbourne, saying, "Good luck with your newfound independence, don't forget to write," while secretly looking forward to a future with a lot less sibling rivalry and a lot more peace and quiet.

 

** And I am not talking about little bits of gold floating in a vial of water like they used to sell us kids at gift stores in Prineville and Madras. Nope. They found numerous massive gold deposits north of Melbourne in June of 1851, which marked the beginning of the Victorian Gold Rush. Well, it would have, except the powers that be in Melbourne, worried that Sydney might revoke the separation of the two colonies if they found out just how rich Victoria was about to become, persuaded everyone to KEEP THEIR MOUTHS SHUT until after July 1. Seriously, that’s hilarious!

 

*** Sydney didn’t catch up again until 1891.

 

The city grew so fast that it was essentially a makeshift tent city for more than a year. Imagine Deadwood but with an Australian accent. Probably the same amount of cussing, though.

 

†† Really, really rich. I’m guessing everyone in Sydney was seriously pissed off that the tables had turned so quickly and decisively.

 

††† That's "foreshadowing," people. Actually, it's not. I just plain told you earlier so this really should not have come as a surprise.

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