The
Stock Exchange
By Terry Slack
Get off your butt, take my hand, we are going
for a walk.
Open your eyes, open your mind, ‘tis not the
time to talk.
We are traveling ‘thru’ the past, across the
sands of time.
Opening up to yesteryear, using the world of
rhyme.
I never really thought, a simple block of land
I be.
Then people come along and they build buildings
over me.
It just so happens though the year is Eighteen
seventy one.
They’ve found Gold in Charters Towers; the town
is on the run.
Mosman Street in Charters Towers is the place I
do reside.
They have found Gold all around me, but I have
naught to hide.
There is just an old building, Malcolm’s
Building they can’t fix,
Alexander Malcolm bought me for just Two pound
seven and six.
But sure enough an Architect, by the name of
Mark Day,
With Sydney builders, Sandbrook Brothers,
happened by this way.
They built a monster of a building, as if to
challenge fate.
The Royal Arcade, came to reside, in Eighteen
eighty eight.
I’m not just a block of land, but a building
there as well.
Designed to serve the affluent, is easy now to
tell.
A lovely glass domed ceiling, with the small
shops tucked inside.
Exquisite tiles upon the floor, with beauty you
can’t hide.
But things are happening very fast, all
destined now for change.
Then in Eighteen ninety, they used me for the
Stock Exchange.
They needed just one place, to seal the
business dealer’s fate.
Charters Towers, now the second biggest City in
the State.
Was in the height of my glory, the deals that
all were done.
‘Union Bank’ took over me, in Nineteen hundred
and one.
Alexander Malcolm was broke, but no one said
out loud.
Moved away to Sydney and there he called
himself McLeod.
A bad depression started, back in Eighteen
ninety three.
By Nineteen sixteen it had closed the better
part of me.
By Nineteen twenty two the Mines had all but
disappeared.
No money to maintain me now, was something that
I feared.
My glory days are gone and I fall into
disrepair,
And those that lost on the stock exchange do
not seem to care.
The First World War dominated the thoughts of
modern man
And stripped the assets from the land, as only
World Wars can.
Amongst the mullock heaps and old mine shafts
they left behind,
Only the strongest of heart, are the residents
you find.
Etching out a meager living from the farms that
surround,
With just the need of water, on this rich and
fertile ground.
With the Royal Arcade, now Stock Exchange,
crumbling on my back,
There seemed no future deemed for me along the
‘Aussie’ Track.
A few old pensioners living in poverty reside,
No water, gas or basic needs; from Eventide
they hide.
The glory of my yesteryears comes crumbling
round my ears,
The lack of people coming through portrays my
greatest fears.
Two shops in the front a Watchmaker and a
Barbers Shop,
Crooked Ass Mc Haggerty rented, for Ten bob a
pop.
The place got too dangerous so they had to
build a gate.
They had to keep me locked up at night when it
got too late.
Those who make this place their home; have to
enter from the rear,
Though most of the general public would not
come near for fear.
Fortune comes and fortune goes, before long the
tide will turn.
The Farmers found new fortune in the money they
can earn.
The World Wars have settled down, again peace
comes to the land.
The Dalrymple Shire Council, give me a big
helping hand.
An Architect, Don Roderick was employed to view
my case.
In Nineteen seventy one they begin to repair my
face,
Nineteen seventy five looks good, they have
done repairs inside.
It did not take them long to restore me back to
my pride.
To ensure my future care, is considered as a
must.
So this big job is taken over by the National
Trust.
Charters Towers, Dalrymple Historic Society
Fund raising restores my confidence, in
propriety.
A vast array of different shops so very few the
same
All with great ambition to make their fortune
or their name,
Slowly they came to make use of the building I
am now
And rid me of my sordid past to start again
somehow.
So many shops I’ve had within, it hasn’t finished
yet,
Hard to name but I’ll remember the ones I don’t
forget.
In Nineteen seventy six an Assay room and
‘4GC’,
Bill Browns Duplicators and Blue Light Medicine
there be.
The National Trust Office a Showroom
and a I too
Visit the Electoral Office or Art Gallery,
do.
A Mining Museum and Council
Engineers you’ll see,
All Those other businesses wanting
to set up in me.
Then in the Nineteen eighties a
wicked drought gripped the land.
One of the worst for many years it
turned the grass to sand.
They say the stock survived by
sucking on a Gidgee stone
But so many cattle ended up simply
skin and bone.
Just now money is tight, life is
hard, but we will survive.
A Lingerie and Beauty shop
will keep the place alive.
With blind faith, this shop began
back in Nineteen eighty nine
It worked, for soon they grew to
rent out three shops in a line.
They tidied up the Gallery to get me
back on track.
It wasn’t long before more
businesses were coming back.
The Physio, a Book Shop and Thrift
Shop, take up a space,
When one would leave another one
would simply take their place.
I’m happy now I’m busy; once again
I’m being used.
Providing space for business and not
being abused.
I hear plans are a-foot; there are
big changes in the air.
They all include ‘The Stock Exchange’;
after minor repair.
A Gold Trail for the Tourist trade
in Two thousand and three
It starts off in the Tourist Centre
right beside of me.
They have a Gold Rush film in the
Orientation Room
Then move next door to hear about
the Stock Exchanges boom.
They’ve installed cardboard cut out
figures in the open space
To give us an idea of how they used
to use this place.
The Calling of the Cards gives us
the markets highs and lows,
It’s how the shares were bought and
sold so everybody knows.
They’re also holding many social
functions in me now,
With Weddings, Formal Dinners, we
will manage here somehow.
The Miners Ball with Moulin Rouge as
the formal attire.
A Ghost’s Parade of City Elders
since they did retire.
By Two thousand and ten I had another
overhaul
This time replace the broken tiles
and Glass so it won’t fall.
To stop the rising damp, paint and
the guttering was done.
Seven hundred and thirty thousand
dollars ‘till we won.
But at least I look forward to the
future now with pride,
No faults or structural flaws I
don’t have anything to hide
With Café, Electoral Office, Real
Estate, Book Shop,
Fashion and Museum an ideal meeting
place to stop.
Thank you for your attention, this
my journey, has been fun,
Don’t think of it as ending for my
journey’s just begun.
I apologise for any discrepancies
you find,
I blame Poetic Licence or Wanderings
of my Mind.
The End.
