The Book of the Bush Part 29

In January, 1851, some buoys were sent to Port Albert and laid down in the channel. The account for the work was duly sent to the chief harbour master at Williamstown, but he took no notice of it, nor made any reply to several letters requesting payment. There was something wrong at headquarters, and Davy resolved to see for himself what it was. Moreover, he had not seen Melbourne for ten years, and he yearned for a change. So, without asking leave of anyone, he left Port Albert and its shipping "to the sweet little cherub that sits up aloft, and takes care of the life of Poor Jack," and went in his boat to Yanakie Landing. Mrs. Bennison lent him a pony, and told him to steer for two bald hills on the Hoddle Ranges; he could not see the hills for the fog, and kept too much to port, but at last he found a track. He camped out that night, and next morning had breakfast at Hobson's Station. He stayed one night at Kilcunda, and another at Lyle's station, near the bay. He then followed a track which Septimus Martin had cut through the tea-tree, and his pony became lame by treading on the sharp stumps, so that he had to push it or drag it along until he arrived at Dandenong, where he left it at an inn kept by a man named Hooks. He hired a horse from Hooks at five shillings a day. The only house between Dandenong and Melbourne was once called the South Yarra Pound, kept by Mrs. Atkinson. It was near Caulfield, on the Melbourne side of "No-good-damper swamp."

Some blackfellows had been poisoned there by a settler who wanted to get rid of them. He gave them a damper with a.r.s.enic in it, and when dying they said, "No good, damper."

Davy landed in Melbourne on June 17th, 1851, put his horse in Kirk's bazaar, and stayed at the Queen's Head in Queen Street, where Sir William Clarke's office is now. The landlady was Mrs. Coulson, a widow. Next morning he was at the wharf before daylight, and went down the Yarra in the first steamer for Williamstown. He found that Captain Bunbury, the chief harbour-master, had gone away in the buoy-boat, a small schooner called the 'Apollo', so he hired a whale-boat, and overtook the schooner off the Red Bluff. When he went on board he spoke to Ruffles, master of the schooner, and said:

"Is the harbour-master aboard? I want to see him."

"Yes, but don't speak so loud, or you'll wake him up," replied Ruffles. "He is asleep down below."

Davy roared out, "I want to wake him up. I have come two hundred miles on purpose to do it. I want to get a settlement about those buoys at Port Albert. I am tired of writing about them."

This woke up Bunbury, who sang out:

"What's the matter, Ruffles? What's all that noise about?"

"It's the pilot from Port Albert. He wants to see you, sir, about the buoys."

"Tell him to come down below." Davy went.

Bunbury was a one-armed naval lieutenant, the head of the harbour department, and drew the salary. He had subordinate officers. A clerk at Williamstown did his clerical work, and old Ruffles navigated the 'Apollo' for him through the roaring waters of Port Philip Bay, while he lay in his bunk meditating on something. He said:

"Oh, is that you, Pilot? Well, about those buoys, eh? That's all right. All you have to do is go to my office in Williamstown, tell my clerk to fill in a form for you, take it to the Treasury, and you will get your money."

Davy went back to the office at Williamstown, had the form made out by the clerk, and took it to Melbourne in the steamer, the last trip she made that day. By this time the Treasury was closed. It was situated in William Street, where the vast Law Courts are now; and Davy was at the door when it was opened next morning, the first claimant for money. A clerk took his paper, looked over it, smiled, and said it was of no use whatever without Bunbury's signature. Davy started for Williamstown again in the second boat, found that Bunbury had gone away again in the 'Apollo', followed him in a whale boat, overtook him off St. Kilda, obtained his signature, and returned to the Treasury. Captain Lonsdale was there, but he said it was too late to pay money that day, and also that the form should be signed by someone at the Public Works office.

Then Davy's patience was gone, and he spoke the loud language of the sea. The frail building shook as with an earthquake. Mr. Latrobe was in a back room writing one of those gubernatorial despatches which are so painful to read. He had to suspend the pangs of composition, and he came into the front room to see what was the matter. Davy told him what was the matter in very unofficial words.

Mr. Latrobe listened patiently and then directed Captain Lonsdale to keep the Treasury open until the account was paid. He also said the schooner 'Agenoria' had been wrecked on the day that Davy left Port Albert, and requested him to return to duty as soon as possible, lest other vessels might be wrecked for want of a pilot. "The sweet little cherub that sits up aloft" could not be depended on to pilot vessels over the bar.

Davy took his paper to the Public Works office in Queen Street. Here he found another officer bursting with dignity, who said: "There is already one signature too many on this account."

"Can't you scratch it out, then?" said Davy.

"We don't keep hens to scratch in this office," replied the dignified one, who took a ruler, and having drawn a line through the superfluous name, signed his own. When Davy went again to the Treasury with his account, Captain Lonsdale said he had not cash on hand to pay it, and deducted twenty pounds, which he sent to Port Albert afterwards, when the Government had recovered its solvency.

His Honour the Superintendent might have a.s.sumed the cla.s.sical motto, "Custos sum pauperis horti."

Davy put the money in his pocket, went to the Queen's Head, and, as it was already dark, he hired a man for ten shillings to show him the road through the wet wilderness of Caulfield and round No-good-damper Swamp. It was half-past eleven when he arrived at Hook's Hotel, and, as his pony was still too lame to travel, he bought the horse he had hired, and set out with the Sale mailman. At the Moe he found Angus McMillan, William Montgomery, and their stockmen, afraid to cross the creek on account of the flood, and they had eaten all their provisions. Before dark a black gin came over in a canoe from the accommodation hut on the other side of the creek, having heard the travellers cooeying. They told her they wanted something to eat, but it was too dangerous for her to cross the water again that night. A good fire was kept burning but it was a wretched time. It rained heavily, a gale of wind was blowing, and trees kept falling down in all directions. Scott, the hut-keeper, sent the gin over in the canoe next morning with a big damper, tea, sugar, and meat, which made a very welcome breakfast for the hungry travellers.

They stayed there two days and two nights, and as the flood was still rising, they resolved to try to cross the creek at all risks, preferring to face the danger of death by drowning rather than to die slowly of starvation. Each man took off his clothes, all but his flannel shirt and drawers, strapped them to the pommel of his saddle, threw the stirrup irons over the saddle, and stopped them with a string under the horse's belly to keep them from getting foul in the trees and scrub. In some places the horses had to climb over logs under water, sometimes they had to swim, but in the end they all arrived safely at the hut. They were very cold, and ravenously hungry; and while their clothes were drying before a blazing fire, they drank hot tea and ate up every sc.r.a.p of food, so that Scott was obliged to accompany them to the next station for rations. He left the gin behind, having no anxiety about her. While he was away she could feed sumptuously on grubs, crabs, and opossums.

In March, 1852, when everybody was seized with the gold fever, Davy took it in the natural way. He again left Port Albert without a pilot and went to Melbourne to resign his office. But Mr. Latrobe promised to give him a salary of 500 pounds a year and a boat's crew of five men and a c.o.xswain. The men were to have twelve-and-six a day and the c.o.xswain fifteen shillings.

By this time the gold fever had penetrated to the remotest parts of Gippsland, and from every squatting station and every lonely hut on the plains and mountains men gathered in troops. They were leaving plenty of gold behind them at Walhalla and other places. The first party Davy met had a dray and bullocks. They were slowly cutting a road through the scrub, and their team was the first that made its way over the mountains from Gippsland to Melbourne. Their captain was a lady of unbounded bravery and great strength--a model pioneeress, with a talent for governing the opposite s.e.x.* When at home on her station she did the work of a man and a woman too. She was the one in a thousand so seldom found. She not only did the cooking and housework, but she also rode after stock, drove a team, killed fat beasts, chopped wood, stripped bark, and fenced. She did not hanker after woman's rights, nor rail against the male s.e.x. She was not cultured, nor scientific, nor artistic, nor aesthetic. She despised all the ologies. All great men respected her, and if the little ones were insolent she boxed their ears and twisted their necks. She conquered all the blackfellows around her land with her own right arm. At first she had been kind to them, but they soon became troublesome, wanted too much flour, sugar, and beef, and refused to go away when she ordered them to do so. Without another word she took down her stockwhip, went to the stable, and saddled her horse. Then she rounded up the blackfellows like a mob of cattle and started them. If they tried to break away, or to hide themselves among the scrub, or behind tussocks, she cut pieces out of their hides with her whip. Then she headed them for the Ninety-mile Beach, and landed them in the Pacific without the loss of a man. In that way she settled the native difficulty. The Neills, with a bullock team, the Buckleys and Moores, with horse teams, followed the track of the leading lady. The station-owners stayed at home and watched their fat stock, which soon became valuable, and was no longer boiled.

[Footnote] *Mrs. Buntine; died 1896.

On December 31st, 1851, there were in Tasmania twenty thousand and sixty-nine convicts. Six months afterwards more than ten thousand had left the island, and in three years forty-five thousand eight hundred and eighty-four persons, princ.i.p.ally men, had left for the diggings. It was evident that Sir Wm. Denison would soon have n.o.body to govern but old women and children, a circ.u.mstance derogatory to his dignity, so he wrote to England for more convicts and immigrants, and he pathetically exclaimed, "To whom but convicts could colonists look to cultivate their lands, to tend their flocks, to reap their harvests?" In the month of May, 1853, Sir William wrote that "the discovery of gold had turned him topsy-turvy altogether,"

and he rejoiced that no gold had been discovered in his island. Then the Legislature perversely offered a reward of five thousand pounds to any man who would discover a gold field in Tasmania, but, as a high-toned historian observes, "for many years they were so fortunate as not to find it."

The convicts stole boats at Launceston, and landed at various places about Corner Inlet. Some were arrested by the police and sent back to Tasmania. Many called at Yanakie Station for free rations. Mr.

Bennison applied for police protection, and Old Joe, armed with a carbine, was sent from Alberton as a garrison. Soon afterwards a cutter of about fifteen tons burden arrived at Corner Inlet manned by four convicts, who took the mainsail ash.o.r.e and used it as a tent.

They then allowed the cutter to drift on the rocks under Mount Singapore, and she went to pieces directly. While trying to find a road to Melbourne, they came to Yanakie Station, and they found n.o.body at the house except Joe, Mrs. Bennison, and an old hand. It was now Joe's duty to overawe and arrest the men, but they, although unarmed, overawed and arrested Joe. He became exceedingly civil, and after Mrs. Bennison had supplied them with provisions he showed them the road to Melbourne. They were arrested a few days afterwards at Dandenong and sent back to the island prison.

A NEW RUSH.

"And there was gathering in hot haste."

When gold was first discovered at Stockyard Creek, Griffiths, one of the prospectors, came to me with the intention of registering the claim, under the impression that I was Mining Registrar. He showed me a very good sample of gold. As I had not then been appointed registrar, he had to travel sixty miles further before he could comply with the necessary legal formalities. Then the rush began.

Old diggers came from all parts of Victoria, New South Wales, Queensland, and New Zealand; also men who had never dug before, and many who did not intend to dig--pickpockets, horse thieves, and jumpers. The prospectors' claim proved the richest, and the jumpers and the lawyers paid particular attention to it. The trail of the old serpent is over everything. The desire of the jumpers was to obtain possession of the rich claim, or of some part of it; and the lawyers longed for costs, and they got them. The prospectors paid, and it was a long time before they could extricate their claim from the clutches of the law. They found the goldfield, and they also soon found an unprofitable crop of lawsuits growing on it. They were called upon to show cause before the warden and the Court of Mines why they should not be deprived of the fruit of their labours. The fact of their having discovered gold, and of having pegged out and registered their claim, could not be denied; but then it was argued by counsel most learned in mining law that they had done something which they should have omitted to do, or had omitted to do something else which they should have done, frail human beings as they were, and therefore their claim should be declared to belong to some Ballarat jumper. I had to sit and listen to such like legal logic until it made me sick, and ashamed of my species. Of course, justice was never mentioned, that was out of the question; if law and justice don't agree, so much the worse for justice.

Gold was next found at Turton's Creek, which proved one of the richest little gullies ever worked by diggers. It was discovered by some prospectors who followed the tracks which Mr. Turton had cut over the scrubby mountains, and so they gratefully gave his name to the gully, but I never heard that they gave him any of the gold which they found in it. A narrow track from Foster was cut between high walls of impenetrable scrub, and it soon became like a ditch full of mud, deep and dangerous. If the diggers had been a.s.sured that they would find heaven at the other end of it, they would never have tried to go, the prospect of eternal happiness having a much less attraction for them than the prospect of gold; but the sacred thirst made them tramp bravely through the slough. The sun and wind never dried the mud, because it was shut in and overshadowed by the dense growth of the bush. All tools and provisions were carried through it on the backs of horses, whose legs soon became caked with mud, and the hair was taken off them as clean as if they had been shaved with a razor.

Most of them had a short life and a hard one.

The digging was quite shallow, and the gully was soon rifled of the gold. At this time there was a mining registrar at Foster, as the new diggings at Stockyard Creek were named, and some men, after pegging out their claim at Turton's Creek, went back down the ditch to register them at Foster. It was a great mistake. It was neither the time nor the place for legal forms or ceremony. Time was of the essence of the contract, and they wasted the essence. Other and wiser men stepped on to their ground while they were absent, commenced at once to work vigorously, and the original peggers, when they returned, were unable to dislodge them. Peter Wilson pegged out a claim, and then rode away to register it. He returned next day and found two men on it who had already nearly worked it out.

"This claim is mine, mates," said Peter; "I pegged it out yesterday, and I have registered it. You will have to come out."

One of the men looked up at Peter and said, "Oh! your name is Peter, isn't it? I hear you are a fighting man. Well, you just come down off that bare-legged horse, and I'll kill you in a couple of minutes, while I take a spell."

"It's no use your talking that way; you'll see I'll have the law on you, and you'll have to pay for it," replied Peter.

"You can go, Peter, and fetch the law as soon as you like. I don't care a tinker's curse for you or the law; all I want is the profits, and I'm going to have them."

This profane outlaw and his mate got the profits, cleared all the gold out of Peter's claim, and took it away with them.

It was reported in Melbourne that there was no law or order at Turton's Creek; that the diggers were treating the mining statutes and regulations with contempt; that the gold went to the strong, and the weakest went to the wall. Therefore, six of the biggest policemen in Melbourne were selected, stretched out, and measured in Russell Street barracks, and were then ordered to proceed to Turton's Creek and vindicate the majesty of the law. They landed from the steamer on the wharf at Port Albert, and, being armed with carbines and revolvers, looked very formidable. They proceeded on their journey in the direction of Foster, and it was afterwards reported that they arrived at Turton's Creek, and finding everybody quiet and peaceable, they came back again, bringing with them neither jumpers nor criminals. It was said, however, that they never went any further than the commencement of the ditch. They would naturally, on viewing it, turn aside and camp, to recruit their energies and discuss the situation. Although they were big constables, it did not follow they were big fools. They said the Government ought to have asphalted the ditch for them. It was unreasonable to expect men, each six foot four inches in height, carrying arms and accoutrements, which they were bound by the regulations to keep clean and in good order, to plunge into that river of mud, and to spoil all their clothes.

Turton's Creek was soon worked out, and before any professional jumpers or lawyers could put their fingers in the pie, the plums were all gone. The gully was prospected from top to bottom, and the hills on both sides were tunnelled, but no more gold, and no reefs were found. There was much speculation by geologists, mining experts, and old duffers as to the manner in which the gold had contrived to get into the creek, and where it came from; where it went to, the diggers who carried it away in their pockets knew well enough.

The diggers dispersed; some went to Melbourne to enjoy their wealth; some stayed at Foster to try to get more; some died from the extreme enjoyment of riches suddenly acquired, and a few went mad. One of the latter was brought to Palmerston, and remained there a day or two on his way to the Yarra Bend Lunatic Asylum. Having an inborn thirst for facts, I conversed with him from the wooden platform which overlooks the gaol yard. He was walking to and fro, and talking very cheerfully to himself, and to the world in general. He spoke well, and had evidently been well educated, but his ideas were all in pieces as it were, and lacked connection. He spoke very disrespectfully of men in high places, both in England and the Colonies; and remarked that Members of Parliament were the greatest rascals on the face of the earth. No man of sound mind would ever use such language as that.

Some years afterwards, while I was Collector of Customs at Port Albert, I received a letter from Melbourne to the following purport:

"Yarra Bend Asylum, ----------188--

"Strictly private and confidential

"Sir,--You are hereby ordered to take possession of and detain every vessel arriving at Port Albert. You will immediately proceed on board each of them, and place the broad arrow abaft the foremast six feet above the deck. You will thus cut off all communication with the British Empire. I may state that I am the lawful heir to the t.i.tle and estates of a Scottish dukedom, and am deprived of the possession and enjoyment of my rightful station and wealth by the machinations of a band of conspirators, who have found means to detain me in this prison in order to enjoy my patrimony. You will particularly observe that you are to hold no communication whatever with the Governor of this colony, as he is the paid agent of the conspirators, and will endeavour to frustrate all efforts to obtain my rights. You will also be most careful to withhold all information from the Duke of Dunsinane, who is a member of the junior branch of my family, and at the head of the conspiracy. You will proceed as soon as possible to enrol a body of men for the purpose of effecting my deliverance by force of arms. As these men will require payment for their services, you will enter the Bank of Victoria at Port Albert, and seize all the money you will find there, the amount of which I estimate at ten thousand pounds, which will be sufficient for preliminary expenses. You will give, in my name, to the manager of the bank, a guarantee in writing for repayment of the money, with current rate of interest added, when I recover the dukedom and estates. Be careful to explain to him that you take the money only as a loan, and that will prevent the bank from laying any criminal charge against you. Should anything of the kind be in contemplation, you will be good enough to report progress to me as soon as possible, and I will give you all necessary instructions as to your future proceedings.

"I may mention that in seeking to obtain my t.i.tle and estates, I am influenced by no mean or mercenary considerations; my sole desire is to benefit the human race. I have been employing all my leisure hours during the last nine years in perfecting a system of philosophy entirely new, and applicable to all times, to all nations, and to all individuals. I have discovered the true foundation for it, which, like all great inventions, is so simple that it will surprise the world it was never thought of before. It is this: "Posito impossibili sequitur quidlibet." My philosophy is founded on the firm basis of the Impossible; on that you can build anything and everything. My great work is methodical, divided into sections and chapters, perfect in style, and so lucid in argument that he who runs may read and be enlightened. I have counted the words, and they number so far seven hundred and two thousand five hundred and seventy-eight (702,578). Five years more will be required to complete the work; I shall then cause it to be translated into every language of the world, and shipped at the lowest rate of tonnage for universal distribution gratis. This will ensure its acceptance and its own beauty and intrinsic merits will secure its adoption by all nations, and the result will be human happiness. It will supersede all the baseless theories of science, religion, and morality which have hitherto confounded the human intellect.

"Extract from my Magnum Opus.

"We may reasonably suppose that matter is primordially self-existent, and that it imbued itself with the potentiality of life. It therefore produced germs. A pair of germs coalesced, and formed a somewhat discordant combination, the movements in which tended towards divergence. They attracted and enclosed other atoms, and, progressing through sleep and wakefulness, at last arrived at complete satisfaction, or perfect harmonic combination. This harmonic combination is death. We may say then, in brief, that growth is simply discordant currents progressing towards harmony.

One question may be briefly noticed. It has been asked, when did life first appear on the earth? We shall understand now that the question is unnecessary. Life first appeared on the earth when the earth first appeared as an unsatisfied atom seeking combination. The question is rather, when did the inanimate first appear? It appeared when the first harmonic combination was effected. The earth is indeed to be considered as having grown up through the life that is inherent in it. Man is the most concentrated and differentiated outgrowth of that life. Mankind is, so to speak, the brain of the earth, and is progressing towards the conscious guidance of all its processes."