Old Williamstown Morgue

Beneath a sky the color of a bruise, the Old Williamstown Morgue hunches low. It’s an unassuming building. Yet, its rough bluestone walls whisper tales of a time when life and death danced a grim jig in this bustling port town. The Old Williamstown Morgue isn’t just a building. It’s a time capsule, built in 1859 near Gem Pier. This was during the Victorian gold rush. Williamstown was exploding with life, and sadly, death. The gold rush drew people from all corners of the earth. Some found fortune, others met their untimely end, often in brawls or after long voyages from distant shores. Imagine the scene. Bodies arriving on ships, the victims of unknown maladies. The need for a coroner was paramount, but the process was slow. Where to store the deceased while awaiting examination? The solution was grimly practical. The cellars of Williamstown’s burgeoning pubs became temporary morgues. Can you imagine enjoying a pint while a lifeless form lay cooling in the cellar below? Public outcry grew. A local newspaper championed the cause, and finally, the Old Williamstown Morgue was built. Constructed from bluestone quarried near Fort Gellibrand, it was a simple, single-roomed structure. Its location near the beach served a gruesome purpose. After post-mortems, the building was hosed down, the refuse washed out to sea. The tide, it seemed, was the ultimate cleanser. As Williamstown grew more refined, the sight of body parts washing ashore became less palatable. The Old Williamstown Morgue was dismantled, brick by brick, and moved to Ann Street. Here, bodies were hung from the rafters, safe from both rats and rising floodwaters. Ironically, the contractor responsible for the move met a tragic end, struck by a train shortly after completing the job. He became the first official resident of the Old Williamstown Morgue in its new location. Today, the Old Williamstown Morgue stands silent. It is a reminder of a harsher era. It’s a place where life and death met, and the tide washed away the remnants.