The Largest Fountain South of the Line

Greymouth Evening Star, 10 September 1927, Page 9

The Largest Fountain South of the Line

WILLIAM MOORE, the well-known Australian art critic, writes, for New Zealanders, an account of a bequest of £16,000 for a fountain in Sydney and tells of two historic fountains in Melbourne and Launceston.

SHE late Mr. X F. Archb bald, the first editor of “The Bulletin," left a sum of £16,000 for a fountain to be erected in Sydney in memory of Australia's association with France in the Great War.' As a compliment to that country-, he stipulated that the work be carried out by a French sculptor and M. Sicard, a well-known sculptor in Paris, has been selected to do the work. It will be one of the most costly fountains in the world and the largest in the Southern Hemisphere. It will cost £l,OOO more than the Port Said Memorial, to be erected by the Commonwealth Government, and

£2,000 more than the Governor Phillip Statue in Sydney. But what will be most remarkable about it will be its size. The base, which will be circular in form, will be 60 feet in diameter, as compared with 45 feet, the diameter’ of the fountains in front of St. Peter’s, Rome. Besides a large central group of classical figures in bronze, there will be three large radial groups. The whole work will take three years to complete. Its site cannot be decided upon until the model arrives some time this month. LAUNCESTON FOUNTAIN There arc few fountains of any distinction in Australia, but there are two which have a most interesting history. To relate the story of the beautiful fountain which stands in the Prince’s Square, Launceston, Tasmania, we must go back to the ’fifties, when Henry Dowling was Mayor of the town. It was proposed to have a reservoir right in the centre of the place, but the Mayor put an end to that idea by burning the plans. He then raised £450 among his friends and laid out the ground selected for the reservoir as a public garden. His next step was to ask the council to vote a sum of £BOO for the purchase of a fountain which had beep modelled by a French sculptor for the Paris Exhibition of 1857. Of course, there was strong opposition against this proposal, but the Mayor got it through. Well, the fountain arrived. Dowling’s enemies didn’t exactly tear it to pieces, but they succeeded in mutilating it to some extent, with the result that it could not be erected entirely in its original state. It appears that this work of art was crowned by a group of nude figures, but such a storm of imprecations was raised against these that they had to be removed, the present insignificant top being substituted in their place. So the Mayor was beaten in the end. After the turmoil had sub-

sided the water splashed over the fountain on September 15, 1859. Clusters of incandescents have been fixed at the top, and during the summer nights the fountain shines like an oasis of light against the deep shadows of the square.

In Spring Street, Melbourne, there is a fountain which was /carried out entirely within the walls of Pentridge Gaol, near the city. Carved from rough blocks of blue stone by a prisoner of the Ci’own, this fountain is forever associated with the agony of mind and strenuous labour of William Stanford, who succeeded in redeeming his name from the taint of crime, and died prematurely through inhaling the dust raised in chiselling this work. It is a memorial of his victory over circumstances. It is his expiation. It was the discovery that Stanford had a certain skill in carving that prompted the chaplain of the prison to persuade the Governor of tho prison to give him a chance to develop his talent. Serving under a long sentence for highway robbery and horse-steal-ing, he was very bitter at what he regarded as the injustice of his long imprisonment, and at times was openly resentful to those in authority over him. But once they gave him a workshop in which he could use his hands to embody the thoughts of his mind, he gave no further trouble. As he became proficient in modelling—through the efforts of the chaplain he had received lessons from Summers, the sculptor—he submitted a design for a fountain and asked permission to carve it in stone. This was given and the prisoner commenced the work which now stands in the triangular garden in Spring Street. He asked for something better than the bluestone in the prison quarry, but the authorities would not incur the extra expense of getting other material outside. It was owing to the hardness of the basalt, that the fountain took four years to complete. Well, the work went on. Stanford, who was now one of the best-behaved prisoners, became quite absorbed in it. It was a big task before him owing to the hardness of the stone, yet he looked forward to the time when he could proclaim the work finished. But, bye-and-bye, an unforeseen danger seemed likely to check his? hopes. So long as he had the chance to carry out the project that brought out the best energies of his mind, he could afford to forget the loug term of years before him, but now the obstacle that menaced him was nothing less than the fountain itself. What was the use of struggling against such odds as these? He had seven years to serve yet and his only relaxation was slowly killing him. There was no hope now, not even in the fountain. But while Stanford .stood the picture of absolute dejection ’before his unfinished work, there were good friends outside who were endeavouring to secure his release. The news that a prisoner in Pentridge was

carving a-fountain roused considerable interest in some quarters and even became a subject of conversation at Parliament House. A year after he sent in his petition he was “released to freedom by remission” and taken care of by a Collins Street doctor, who set him up in business as a monumen-

tai mason. He gave the finishing touches to the fountain where it now stands. He never received any payment for it. It was the price of his liberty and it squared all accounts between him and the State. He had ten years of liberty and in a small way he prospered. His death was caused by a complication of diseases, one of which was “stonemason’s disease.” The dust of the fountain had killed him at last.