1890–1910
Young Savige had joined the military at age 10 after being inspired by reports in the newspapers. They covered in earnest detail the progress of the Boer War. He cut out accounts of the South African conflict and pasted them into a scrapbook.
Most of the stories were sanitised and colourful, including the articles from talented war correspondent and balladeer Banjo Paterson. The Light Horse battalions from every Australian colony were glamorised and their exploits exaggerated, in the tradition of the depictions of British cavalry in the Boy’s Own Annual and glossy magazines. Instead of joining a junior footy or cricket team, many Australian boys of that era dreamt of emulating the gallant riflemen or cavalry.
So, in 1900, young Stanley became a member of a junior cadet detachment in country Korumburra, 120 kilometres southeast of Melbourne and not far from Morwell, where he had been born. The detachment had been formed as a direct result of the war. The boy was so keen that he lied twice to get into the cadets, saying he was 12 and that he could play the bugle.
In seemed to be an escape into a more attractive world, after his humble beginnings in a poor family, and in a rural climate where educational and sporting opportunities were limited. He had been born into harsh times. From 1855 to the late 1880s, Victoria, particularly Melbourne, had gone through a building boom based on the gold found in the Ballarat and Bendigo goldfields. Then came the bust that had an impact on all of Australia and led to depression by the early 1890s.
Savige’s parents, Ann and Samuel, experienced struggle and poverty as banks closed, many businesses went under and unemployment rocketed. The Saviges thrashed around looking for work. Samuel tried the mines, but they were closing by the day, and his wife did not like the town of Outtrim, where he found work as a butcher. Ann put more pressure on the family as Stan (born in 1890) was joined by seven siblings: Edna (born 1892), Jack (1894), Hilda (1896), Harry (1898), Bill (1899), Gladys (1902) and Richard (1905).
One saving grace was that all the kids were gradually herded off to Korumburra State School, with Stan first at age four. There were 44 children in his class and he was always among the top three or four. The children studied reading, writing, arithmetic, geography and history – Stan’s favourite subject. It covered very little of Australia’s own past and concentrated on Britain and Europe and, to a lesser degree, the United States, with an emphasis on 19th-century wars. This emphasis had a profound influence on the boy’s thought at a time when Australia was being shaped into a nation, and when the concept of a federation of States (formerly colonies) was occupying the thinking of the elite. There was always talk of armed defence for this fledgling commonwealth.
Even as a child, Stan showed remarkable resilience and self-reliance. His early adventures took him deep into the bush and he would always find his way home without a hitch. He never had a compass, and rarely carried a map. He was a natural in the bush, almost like a young Indigenous boy in his observations of his environment and geography. He reckoned he could move anywhere by recalling everything from rabbit holes to flora and terrain.
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Savige was forced to leave school in 1902, aged 12 and a half, having met the basic requirements for students of the day. It was distressing for someone with drive and intelligence not to be able to continue his studies, but there was then no free secondary education in the State of Victoria, and no money in the family for school fees.
There was nowhere for the eldest of seven children to go except into the workforce, to bring in much-needed income for the struggling household. Savige was not big for his age, but he had a certain amount of strength, which allowed him to earn 2 shillings a week as a blacksmith’s striker, a respectable enough job for a working-class male. It entailed striking the red-hot pieces of iron or steel with a 14-pound sledgehammer, at the blacksmith’s direction. This was physically demanding for a man, let alone a prepubescent lad, but there was a place for someone with timing and exceptional hand–eye coordination.
In 1905, Savige became aware of the opening of the Melbourne Continuation School, which would offer free education. He asked his mother if he could go.
‘Stan, I would love you to go,’ she said, then added through tears, ‘but we need the money you bring [into the home]. We can’t afford the cost.’1
Of Savige’s parents, Ann was the one with intellectual leanings. She could see that her eldest son was keen to go further in life, and his intelligence and initiative suggested he could achieve exceptional things. It pained her to think she could not assist in his advance.
Yet Savige asked her if he could pay 1 of his 2 shillings a week to a local tutor, who could teach him mathematics and general knowledge three evenings a week. Ann happily agreed, now even more aware of her son’s determination.
After a year of this modest education, Savige acquired a letter of recommendation from the tutor and placed it in front of potential employers, including the editor of the Korumburra Times, who employed him. In 1906, he moved to a drapery business, earning 5 shillings a week, but lost that job after eight months because of a swearing incident. He was heard to say ‘bloody’, which upset his strict Methodist boss, who nevertheless gave the lad a strong letter of support without mentioning his mild indiscretion.
The teenager was gaining an informal education by stealth, enhanced by what he learnt at Sunday school from Baptist minister the Reverend Mr Dorman, who also baptised him. Dorman was not a ‘hellfire’ preacher, although he was clear in his sermons about right and wrong, good and evil, which had an impact on the impressionable Savige.
Dorman welcomed both scabs (non-unionists) and strikers into his church during a miners’ strike. This equanimity appealed to Savige’s political-activist parents. Samuel was secretary of the local branch of the miners’ union, and worked hard for his members, while Ann was even more politically involved, a strong supporter of women’s suffrage. Women had gained the right to vote in federal elections in 1902, but Victoria lagged behind.
Motivated by her desire to see women get the vote, and convinced that country Victoria offered little opportunity for her and her brood, in 1907 she urged husband Samuel to uproot and take a chance in the ‘big smoke’ of Melbourne. The city was making a slow but discernible recovery from the horrors of the 1890s depression.
Samuel had a part to play in organising a long-running strike and would not budge from Korumburra. He stayed six months apart from his family before joining them in Melbourne.
The income now being earnt by several members of the family allowed Ann to concern herself less with feeding her children and more with working towards rights for her sex. She became a strong and forceful speaker at rallies. She was a strong, handsome-looking woman, with a jawline that aided her thrusting speeches. This drew her into a select group of leftist politicians, including a young John Curtin – perhaps the best orator among the firebrands of that era – who admired and encouraged her.
Ann’s efforts were not in vain. Women got the vote in 1908 after a year’s work in front of crowds and behind the scenes.
The city offered more excitement for the 17-year-old Stan, but his adherence to the Baptist Church meant he eschewed distractions such as youth gangs, drinking and partying. His no-nonsense parents were not particularly religious, and if anything went by the adage that ‘God helps those who help themselves’ (and, in their case, others). But, like them, Savige was driven by a desire to advance in life through self-education, rather than being sidetracked into meaningless pursuits.
Savige had enjoyed the role of second father to his younger siblings, and this extended into a keen interest in the Scout movement, where his bush and survival skills were revived and used in guiding younger children in self-reliance. He continued this interest with Prahran Senior Cadets later, when he moved to the city. He could also pass on his moral precepts about upright living, values and goals. The late teenage Savige was a mild proselytiser. What he lacked of his mother’s natural forcefulness he made up for with his cheerful, warmhearted disposition. In those youthful years, people were drawn to his friendly, egalitarian style, and his sympathy for those less fortunate than himself. He was indeed an upright citizen going somewhere.
The jobs he found in Melbourne’s burgeoning shopping centres paid well, even if they did not inspire him, or grip his soul. He quickly rose to a middle-management position at Maclellan and Co, known as The Big Store, on Chapel Street, Prahran. He was a favourite of the big boss, John Maclellan, which augured well for a climb to the top of the business world.
This was at odds with another possible career path in politics. Detailed discussions at home with his parents, and the debating and writing skills honed in a three-year teacher training course sparked Savige’s interest in politics halfway through the course. At the end of it, in 1919, he abandoned the thought of becoming a teacher. Instead, he felt he had built himself into a potential candidate for office. The cut-and-thrust of politics held more attraction for him than teaching. Savige held his own at a local Friday night club against exceptional debaters, including a future State attorney general, W.J. ‘Bill’ Slater. His command of the language and issues of the day could well have shaped him into a formidable politician. Had he chosen the Labor or Conservative Party, with the necessary commitment, he would have acquired influential backers either way. But his desire to establish himself financially saw him delay any serious thoughts about a political career.
By the time he turned 20 in 1910, it was all open to him. He bought a block of land, which made him a young man of substance. It also meant he could offer a young woman the prospect of a good marriage, which was a desire equal to his drive to find a vocation that would grip him for life.
Savige found more than a prospect in the choir of the Baptist Church in South Yarra, which he attended every Sunday. Her name was Lilian Stockton, and Savige was in love with her even before they had spoken to each other.