A Lady's Visit to the Gold Diggings of Australia in 1852-53 Part 15

"Twenty yards at one-ten--thirty pounds. That do, Sir?"

"No; not good enough!" was the energetic reply.

The shrewd shopkeeper quickly fathomed his customer's desires, and now displayed before him a rich orange-coloured satin, which elicited an exclamation of delight.

"Twenty-five yards--couldn't sell less, it's a remnant--at three pounds the yard."

"That's the go!" interrupted the digger, throwing some more notes upon the counter. "My missus was married in a cotton gown, and now she'll have a real gold 'un!"

And seizing the satin from the shopkeeper, he twisted up the portion that had been unrolled for his inspection, placed the whole under his arm, and triumphantly walked out of the shop, little thinking how he had been cheated.

"A 'lucky digger' that," observed the shopman, as he attended to my wants.

I could not forbear a smile, for I pictured to myself the digger's wife mixing a damper with the sleeves of her dazzling satin dress tucked up above her elbows.

A few days after, a heavy shower drove me to take shelter in a pastry-cook's, where, under the pretence of eating a bun, I escaped a good drenching. Hardly had I been seated five minutes, when a sailor-looking personage entered, and addressed the shopwoman with: "I'm agoing to be spliced to-morrow, young woman; show us some large wedding-cakes."

The largest (which was but a small one) was placed before him, and eighteen pounds demanded for it. He laid down four five-pound notes upon the counter, and taking up the cake, told her to "keep the change to buy ribbons with."

"Pleasant to have plenty of gold-digging friends," I remarked, by way of saying something.

"Not a friend," said she, smiling. "I never saw him before. I expect he's only a successful digger."

Turn we now to the darker side of this picture.

My favourite walk, whilst in Melbourne, was over Prince's Bridge, and along the road to Liardet's Beach, thus pa.s.sing close to the canvas settlement, called Little Adelaide. One day, about a week before we embarked for England, I took my accustomed walk in this direction, and as I pa.s.sed the tents, was much struck by the appearance of a little girl, who, with a large pitcher in her arms, came to procure some water from a small stream beside the road. Her dress, though clean and neat, bespoke extreme poverty; and her countenance had a wan, sad expression upon it which would have touched the most indifferent beholder, and left an impression deeper even than that produced by her extreme though delicate beauty.

I made a slight attempt at acquaintanceship by a.s.sisting to fill her pitcher, which was far too heavy, when full of water, for so slight a child to carry, and pointing to the rise of ground on which the tents stood, I inquired if she lived among them.

She nodded her head in token of a.s.sent.

"And have you been long here? and do you like this new country?" I continued, determined to hear if her voice was as pleasing as her countenance.

"No!" she answered quickly; "we starve here. There was plenty of food when we were in England;" and then her childish reserve giving way, she spoke more fully of her troubles, and a sad though a common tale it was.

Some of the particulars I learnt afterwards. Her father had held an appointment under Government, and had lived upon the income derived from it for some years, when he was tempted to try and do better in the colonies. His wife (the daughter of a clergyman, well educated, and who before her marriage had been a governess) accompanied him with their three children. On arriving in Melbourne (which was about three months previous), he found that situations equal in value, according to the relative prices of food and lodging, to that which he had thrown up in England were not so easily procured as he had been led to expect.

Half desperate, he went to the diggings, leaving his wife with little money, and many promises of quick remittances of gold by the escort.

But week followed week, and neither remittances nor letters came. They removed to humbler lodgings, every little article of value was gradually sold, for, unused to bodily labour, or even to sit for hours at the needle, the deserted wife could earn but little. Then sickness came; there were no means of paying for medical advice, and one child died. After this, step by step, they became poorer, until half a tent in Little Adelaide was the only refuge left.

As we reached it, the little girl drew aside the canvas, and partly invited me to enter. I glanced in; it was a dismal sight. In one corner lay the mother, a blanket her only protection from the humid soil, and cowering down beside her was her other child. I could not enter; it seemed like a heartless intrusion upon misery; so, slipping the contents of my purse (which were unfortunately only a few shillings) into the little, girl's hand, I hurried away, scarcely waiting to notice the smile that thanked me so eloquently. On arriving at home, I found that my friends were absent, and being detained by business, they did not return till after dusk, so it was impossible for that day to afford them any a.s.sistance. Early next morning we took a little wine and other trifling articles with us, and proceeded to Little Adelaide. On entering the tent, we found that the sorrows of the unfortunate mother were at an end; privation, ill health and anxiety had claimed their victim. Her husband sat beside the corpse, and the golden nuggets, which in his despair he had flung upon the ground, formed a painful contrast to the scene of poverty and death.

The first six weeks of his career at the diggings had been most unsuccessful, and he had suffered as much from want as his unhappy wife. Then came a sudden change of fortune, and in two weeks more he was comparatively rich. He hastened immediately to Melbourne, and for a whole week had sought his family in vain. At length, on the preceding evening, he found them only in time to witness the last moments of his wife.

Sad as this history may appear, it is not so sad as many, many others; for often, instead of returning with gold, the digger is never heard of more.

In England many imagine that the princ.i.p.al labour at the diggings consists in stooping to pick up the lumps of gold which lie upon the ground at their feet, only waiting for some one to take possession of them. These people, when told of holes being dug in depths of from seven to forty feet before arriving at the desired metal, look upon such statements as so many myths, or fancy they are fabricated by the lucky gold-finders to deter too many others from coming to take a share of the precious spoil. There was a pa.s.senger on board the vessel which took me to Australia, who held some such opinions as these, and, although in other respects a sensible man, he used seriously to believe that every day that we were delayed by contrary winds he could have been picking up fifty or a hundred pounds worth of gold had he but been at the diggings. He went to Bendigo the third day after we landed, stayed there a fortnight, left it in disgust, and returned to England immediately--poorer than he had started.

This is not an isolated case. Young men of sanguine dispositions read the startling amounts of gold shipped from the colonies, they think of the "John Bull Nugget" and other similar prizes, turn a deaf ear when you speak of blanks, and determinately overlook the vast amount of labour which the gold diggings have consumed. Whenever I meet with this cla.s.s of would-be emigrants, the remarks of an old digger, which I once over heard, recur to my mind. The conversation at the time was turned upon the subject of the many young men flocking from the "old country" to the gold-fields, and their evident unfitness for them.

"Every young man before paying his pa.s.sage money," said he, "should take a few days' spell at well-sinking in England; if he can stand that comfortably, the diggings won't hurt him."

Many are sadly disappointed on arriving in Victoria, at being unable to invest their capital or savings in the purchase of about a hundred acres of land, sufficient for a small farm. I have referred to this subject before, but cannot resist adding some facts which bear upon it.

By a return of the LAND SALES of Victoria, from 1837 to 1851, it appears that 380,000 acres of land were sold in the whole colony; and the sum realized by Government was 700,000 pounds. In a return published in 1849, it is stated that there were THREE persons who each held singly more land in their own hands than had been sold to all the rest of the colony in fourteen years, for which they paid the sum of 30 pounds each per annum. Yet, whilst 700,000 pounds is realized by the sale of land, and not 100 pounds a-year gained by LETTING three times the quant.i.ty, the Colonial Government persists in the latter course, in spite of the reiterated disapprobation of the colonists themselves; and by one of the last gazettes of Governor La Trobe, he has ordered 681,700 acres, or 1,065 square miles, to be given over to the squatters. The result of this is, that many emigrants landing in Victoria are compelled to turn their steps towards the sister colony of Adelaide. There was a family who landed in Melbourne whilst I was there. It consisted of the parents, and several grown-up sons and daughters. The father had held a small tenant farm in England, and having saved a few hundreds, determined to invest it in Australian land. He brought out with him many agricultural implements, an iron house, &c.; and on his arrival found, to his dismay, that no less than 640 acres of crown lands could be sold, at a time, at the upset price of one pound an acre. This was more than his capital could afford, and they left for Adelaide. The expenses of getting his goods to and from the ships, of storing them, of supporting his family while in Melbourne, and of paying their pa.s.sage to Adelaide, amounted almost to 100 pounds. Thus he lost nearly a fourth of his capital, and Victoria a family who would have made good colonists.

Much is done now-a-days to a.s.sist emigration, but far greater exertions are needed before either the demand for labour in the colonies or the over-supply of it in England can be exhausted. Pa.s.s down the best streets of Melbourne: you see one or two good shops or houses, and on either side an empty spot or a ma.s.s of rubbish. The ground has been bought, the plans for the proposed budding are all ready. Then why not commence?--there are no workmen. Bricks are wanted, and 15 pounds a thousand is offered; carpenters are advertized for at 8 pounds a week; yet the building makes no progress--there are no workmen. Go down towards the Yarra, and an unfinished Church will attract attention. Are funds wanting for its completion? No. Thousands were subscribed in one day, and would be again were it necessary; but that building, like every other, is stopped for lack of workmen. In vain the bishop himself published an appeal to the various labourers required offering the very highest wages; others offered higher wages still, and the church (up to the time I left Victoria) remained unfinished. And yet, whilst labour is so scarce, so needed in the colonies, there are thousands in our own country ABLE AND WILLING TO WORK, whose lives here are one of prolonged privation, whose eyes are never gladdened by the sight of nature, who inhale no purer atmosphere than the tainted air of the dark courts and dismal cellars in which they herd. Send them to the colonies--food and pure air would at least be theirs--and much misery would be turned into positive happiness.

I heard of a lady who every year sent out a whole family from the poor but hard-working cla.s.ses to the colonies (it was through one of the objects of her thoughtful benevolence that this annual act became known to me), and what happiness must it bring when she reflects on the heartfelt blessings that are showered upon her from the far-off land of Australia. Surely, among the rich and the influential, there are many who, out of the abundance of their wealth, could "go and do likewise."

THE END.