Respectability on Trial: Little Southern Curiosities Volume II

📍Launceston, Tasmania

In nineteenth and early twentieth century Tasmania, the line between crime and inconvenience could be very thin. Magistrates heard cases ranging from genuine offences to the smallest breaches of respectability; a muttered insult, a boyish game played for pennies, a runaway horse startling the public. Respectability was policed as keenly as crime itself, and everyday life produced curiosities. Brief, human moments that slipped into the official records.

A Most Improper Word

1893

One of the smallest offences, perhaps surprisingly given the integration of swearing into Australian vernacular now, was the use of indecent language.

The courts treated indecent language with a seriousness bordering on comedy. Men and women were dragged before the magistrate for muttering improper expressions within earshot of respectable neighbours. The reports rarely tell us the exact words, only that they were profane, indelicate, or grossly offensive.

One Launceston case describes a woman, Maud Phillips, who annoyed a Mr Henry Graham by going on to his premises at York Street and made use of indecent language. Maud was given 14 days imprisonment without the option of a fine, for having annoyed Mr Graham. Maud was often before the court in Launceston, experiencing poverty and untreated mental health issues. You can read more of her story in The Haunted Cell.

A Game of Show Poker at Inveresk

Historic photograph of children gathered outside White's Store in Bothwell, Tasmania, with boys playing in the dirt and adults standing near the shop entrance. — *Children outside White’s Store in Bothwell c. 1890s. The kind of lively street scene where small mischiefs took place [Libraries Tasmania].*

1916

Inveresk has seen everything from industry to art to sport, but for one brief moment it hosted something far smaller: a group of boys caught playing show poker for pennies.

The newspaper report is both scandalised and tender. Four young lads were hauled before the Launceston Police Court for “a game of chance for monetary gain.” Three turned up, cap in hand, professing total ignorance of wrongdoing. One insisted he didn’t even know the rules at all. They were cautioned and sent on their way. The fourth boy, who didn’t attend, was fined two shillings and sixpence, plus costs.

Show poker, a local variant of simple draw poker, was beloved by bored boys everywhere. To the court, it was gambling. To the lads, it was a way to pass time when afternoons were long.

The Horse Who Took Launceston by the Hoof

Early twentieth century photograph of Charles Street, Launceston, featuring a tram and horse drawn carts. Reflects the busy streets where a runaway horse caused chaos in 1952. — *Charles Street, Launceston, with horse-drawn vehicles and an early tram. Scenes like this set the stage for the 1952 runaway horse that “took the town by the hoof” [Libraries Tasmania].*

1952

When Launceston newspapers reported that a horse had “taken the town by the hoof,” they weren’t exaggerating by much.

A startled horse broke free in the centre of Brisbane Street and tore through the busiest part of the city, narrowly missing carts, pedestrians, a bicycle, and finally a taxi. At one point the poor creature was even temporarily blinded by a sheet of newspaper that blew onto its face. It ran in fear until it crashed into a stationary truck, ending its brief and chaotic reign.

No one was charged, though earlier decades show that runaway horses often led to fines for “failing to keep proper control of an animal.” In this case, the horse had been with two small boys and had bolted after being startled by a passing tram.

The incident briefly made headlines across the city. The horse was, thankfully, uninjured. The same can’t be said for the truck it careened into. Its radiator and fan were damaged, the front bumper wrenched off, and the right hand guard dented.

From improper language to improvised card games and a horse with a flair for chaos, these curiosities show how every day life could tip into the court reports. In their smallness lies the charm. Tiny episodes that let us glimpse Tasmania as it once was. Interested in further small snippets from Tasmania’s past? You may enjoy Little Southern Curiosities, Volume I.