Take a look at the map and you will see a web of roads converging from all directions. They were pioneered by cursing teamsters urging straining bullocks towards Market Square.

Wayside inns stood every 15km or so, because that was as far as a bullock could walk in a day.

Roads were improving. It was now possible to travel to Sydney by coach in two days, for about the same price as a flight to London would cost today.

The opening of the Fitzroy Bridge improved access in all weathers. It was one of the longest in the colony, erected at a cost of three thousand pounds. The occasion was the biggest event of the decade, marked by feasting, speeches, minstrels, and the thumping beat of a German Marching Band.

The alignment of the bridge changed the trend of traffic, and Auburn Street replaced Sloane Street as the main road. In the archives of the Goulburn and District Historical Society are the reminiscences of E. J. Dunn, who spent part of his childhood here between 1851 and 1856.

He recalled that many shopkeepers “squatted” on vacant blocks until they were told to move on.

The shops had been built with axles underneath, like caravans, which made it easy for them to fit a pair of wheels and shift to Auburn Street.

“Goulburn in those early days was a primitive town. Auburn Street was un-made and there were not even side paths. The soil was soft and in summer the winds blew away the dust. In winter the hollow that resulted filled with water and the street became a small lagoon in which flocks of geese swam and paddled, occasionally taking a wild flight down the street. We small boys used to take off our boots and socks and take the little girls across the pond when they wanted to get to the other side.”

There were no street lights. Flickering lamps or candles lit most households.

The first kerosene lamps created a sensation at the Mayor’s Ball, but many people feared that the unnaturally bright light might damage the ocular organs.

Goodness knows how they must have cowered when gas lights were installed in 1855. Goulburn’s first “skyscraper” was erected in that year. The Australian Auction Mart stood on the site of the Commonwealth bank and towered three stories high.

The intersection of Auburn and Montague Streets was the “hub” of the town, where the “Salutation Inn” had prime position. “The Royal”, on the site of the Worker’s Club, was reputed to have cost 10,000 pounds.

Discerning travellers preferred to stay at Mandelson’s. The less discerning could take their choice of about 20 other pubs.

E.J. Dunn and his family camped in Market Square while his father looked for a job; “I well remember seeing the old dames sitting on the door sills in the evening, smoking black, short clay pipes with great puffs.

In those days the prisoners were used for making the roads and I often saw the chain gangs going to and from their work and can hear the clank of their irons still as they shuffled along. My father was presented with a kitten, a rare and valuable animal. The dairy man saw it and offered a cow for it which was worth 5 pounds. Cats were scarce but mice were plentiful.

In 1852 we lived on the Wollondilly River at Ifield and I went to school each morning. A Mrs. Johnson kept a dame’s school. The weapon of authority was the ‘tawse’ or leather strap with the end cut off into a number of thongs. It was rolled up and hurled at the delinquent who had to carry it up and get his due.”

The Dunn family had a lucky escape when their house was engulfed by the 1852 flood. Dozens of people had to be rescued from the river flats. Even the undertaker, Robert Craig, paddled out in a coffin to help with the rescue. Dunn tells of the entertainments of those days; “On Boxing Day in the square each year, there were sports of a very old fashioned style such as climbing the greasy pole; blind wheelbarrow races; racing in sacks; catching a pig with a greasy tail; Punch and Judy; Aunt Sally; bobbing for apples in a tub of water.

Then there was a revolving frame with four arms and on the end of each arm, a very hard baked (bread) roll was suspended. The frame revolved. The candidates stood round in a circle, their hands tied behind them, and they had to try and catch the roll with their teeth as it passed.

The master of ceremonies basted the rolls with treacle and his assistant went round and dusted the bumpkins with flour. The fun was rather on the side of the onlookers than of the roll catchers.” Public executions were as popular as ever.

Carried out at the site of the Post Office, the scaffold was clearly visible above the gaol walls. Crowds crammed Market Square and craned their necks in Auburn Street as they jostled for a view.

Pie-vendors and pick-pockets did a roaring trade on the day that the Kangaloolah cannibal, James Talbot, was “turned off.” He had fried Jim Barry’s kidneys and gobbled them up with glee. Steakand- kidney pies sold well that day.

But the crowd was subdued when Mary Ann Brownlow handed over her suckling infant before mounting the steps of the gallows to pay for the murder of her husband. Shop-windows were draped with black crepe.

Was she a scheming vixen or the victim of a womanizing wastrel? You can still get a good argument over it today. In July 1851 the colony was electrified by news of a fabulous gold strike on the Turon River, where nuggets “could be harvested like potatoes.” Some were as big as pumpkins.

 Wives and families were abandoned. Shops and factories were closed. Every man that could ride, walk or hobble shouldered a pick or a shovel and joined the “rush.”

E.J. Dunn recalled; “It was the greatest event in Australian history. The effect in Goulburn was marvellous.

Within 12 months, the 2 pound loaf sprang up to seventeen pence each instead of one penny. All kinds of tools and hardware and all commodities rose phenomenally in price. The excitement culminated in the whole adult male population leaving for the diggings.”

After the initial excitement, many prodigal sons returned to their homes. Other “rushes” followed, but despite the offer by local store-keepers of a reward for the discovery of payable gold near Goulburn, none was ever found.

But once again our central location came to the rescue. We were surrounded by the Braidwood, Araluen, Shoalhaven and Abercrombie goldfields.

Heavily laden Gold Escort Coaches rolled into the town to deposit bullion in the banks, and businessmen made a fortune trading picks and pans for nuggets.

The population of the colony increased tenfold in a few short years, and hordes passed through, to and from the fields already mentioned, and the phenomenal finds at Bendigo and Ballarat.

Everyone had money, and they came from miles around to spend it.

Goulburn built a boulevard of glittering emporiums filled with the latest fads and fashions, and became the shopping Mecca of southern New South Wales.

It was the beginning of the Golden Age.