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Lady's Visit to the Gold Diggings of Australia in 1852-53, A.

<h3> Chapter XI. </h3> <h3> FOREST CREEK </h3> In my last chapter we were left standing not far from the Commissioners' tent, Forest Creek, at about three o'clock in the afternoon of Saturday, the 16th. An air of quiet prevailed, and made the scene unlike any other we had as yet viewed at the diggings. It was the middle of the month; here and there a stray applicant for a licence might make his appearance, but the body of the diggers had done so long before, and were disseminated over the creek digging, washing, or cradling, as the case might be, but here at least was quiet. To the right of the Licensing Commissioners' tent was a large one appropriated to receiving the gold to be forwarded to Melbourne by the Government escort. There were a number of police and pensioners about. Not many months ago, the scarcity of these at the diggings had prevented the better class of diggers from carrying on their operations with any degree of comfort, or feeling that their lives and property were secure. But this was now altered; large bodies of police were placed on duty, and wooden buildings erected in various parts of the diggings for their accommodation. Assistant Commissioners (who were also magistrates) had been appointed, and large bodies of pensioners enrolled as police, and acting under their orders. Roads were also being made in all directions, thereby greatly facilitating intercommunication. But I must not forget that we are standing looking about us without exactly knowing where to turn. Suddenly William started off like a shot in pursuit of a man a little way from us. We could not at first guess who it was, for in the diggers' dress all men look like so many brothers; but as we approached nearer we recognised our late captain, Gregory. "Well, old fellow, and where did you spring from?" was Frank's salutation. "I thought you were stuck fast in the Eagle Hawk." "I may say the same," said Gregory, smiling. "How got you here?" This was soon told, and our present dilemma was not left unmentioned. "A friend in need is a friend indeed," says the proverb, and William echoed it, as Gregory very complaisantly informed us that, having just entered upon a store not far distant, he would be delighted to give us a shelter for a few nights. This we gladly accepted, and were soon comfortably domiciled beneath a bark and canvas tent adjoining his store. Here we supped, after which Gregory left us, and returned with mattresses, blankets, &c., which he placed on the ground, whilst he coolly ordered the gentlemen to prepare to take their departure, he himself presently setting them the example. "I'm certain sure the young leddy's tired," said he; "and that little lassie there (pointing to Jessie) looks as pale and as wizened as an old woman of seventy—the sooner they gets to sleep the better." We followed the kindly hint, and Jessie and myself were soon fast asleep in spite of the din close beside us. It was Saturday night, and the store was full; but the Babel-like sounds disturbed us not, and we neither of us woke till morning. It was Sunday. The day was fine, and we strolled here and there, wandering a good way from Gregory's store. As we returned, we passed near the scene of the monster meeting of 1851. The following account of it is so correct, that I cannot do better than transcribe it. "The exceeding richness of the Mount Alexander diggings, and extraordinary success of many of the miners, led the Government to issue a proclamation, raising the licence from thirty shillings to three pounds. As soon as these intentions became known, a public meeting of all the miners was convened, and took place on the 15th of December, 1851. This resolve of the Governor and Executive Council was injudicious, since, in New South Wales, the Government proposed to reduce the fee to 15s.; and among the miners in Victoria, dissatisfaction was rife, on account of the apparent disregard by the Government of the wants and wishes of the people engaged in the gold diggings, and because of the absence of all police protection, while there appeared to be no effort made to remedy this defect. Indignation was, therefore, unequivocally expressed at the several diggings' meetings which were held, and at which it was resolved to hold a monster meeting. The 'Old Shepherd's Hut,' an out station of Dr. Barker's, and very near the Commissioners' tent, was the scene chosen for this display. For miles around work ceased, cradles were hushed, and, the diggers, anxious to show their determination, assembled in crowds, swarming from every creek, gully, hill, and dale, even from the distant Bendigo, twenty miles away. They felt that if they tamely allowed the Government to charge 3 pounds one month, the licensing fee might be increased to 6 pounds the next; and by such a system of oppression, the diggers' vocation would be suspended. "It has been computed that from fifteen to twenty thousand persons were on the ground during the time of the meeting. Hundreds, who came and heard, gave place to the coming multitude, satisfied with having attended to countenance the proceedings. The meeting ultimately dispersed quietly, thereby disappointing the anticipations of those who expected, perhaps even desired, a turbulent termination. The majority determined to resist any attempt to enforce this measure, and to pay NOTHING; but, happily, they were not reduced to this extremity, since his Excellency wisely gave notice that no change would be made in the amount demanded for licence." The trees up which the diggers had climbed during the meeting are still pointed out. The "Old Shepherd's Hut" was standing. It seemed a most commodious little building compared to the insecure shelter of' a digger's tent. The sides of the hut were formed of slabs, which were made mostly from the stringy bark,—a tree that splits easily—the roof was composed of the bark from the same tree; the chimney was of stones mortared together with mud. This is the general style of building for shepherds' huts in the bush. As we passed it I could not but mentally contrast the scene that took place there on the important day of the monster meeting, to the deep tranquillity that must have reigned around the spot for centuries before the discovery of gold drew multitudes to the place. The trees in this neighbourhood are mostly stringy bark; almost all are peeled of their covering, as many diggers, particularly those who have their families with them, keep much to one part, and think it, therefore, no waste of time or labour to erect a hut, instead of living in a comfortless tent. On Monday morning we determined to pursue our travels, and meant that day to pay a flying, visit to Fryer's Creek. It was a lovely morning, and we set out in high spirits. A heavy rain during the night had well laid the dust. On our way we took a peep at several flats and gullies, many of which looked very picturesque, particularly one called Specimen Gully, which was but thinly inhabited. We had hardly reached Fryer's Creek itself when we saw a vast concourse of people gathered together. Frank and my brother remained with me at a little distance, whilst Octavius and William went to learn the occasion of this commotion. It arose from an awful accident which had just occurred. Three brothers were working in a claim beside the stream, some way apart from the other diggers. The heavy rain during the night had raised the water, and the ground between the hole where they were working and the Creek, had given way imperceptibly UNDERNEATH. One brother, who was early in the hole at work, fancied that the water at the bottom was gradually rising above his knees; he shouted to his comrades, but unfortunately they had gone, one, one way, one, another, in quest of something, and it was some minutes ere they returned. Meanwhile the water in the hole was slowly but surely rising, and the slippery sides which were several feet high defied him to extricate himself. His cries for help became louder—he was heard, and his brothers and some neighbours hastened to his assistance. Ropes were procured after some further delay, and thrown to the unhappy man—but it was too late. None dared approach very near, for the ground was like a bog, and might at any moment give way beneath their feet; the water was nearly level with the top of the hole, and all hope of saving him was gone. The brothers had often been warned of the danger they were running. Shuddering at the thoughts of this awful death we turned away, but no change of scene could dissipate it from our minds—the remembrance of it haunted me for many a night. Jessie seemed pleased to see us on our return—we had left her behind with Gregory to his great delight—we abstained from mentioning before her the fearful accident we had but witnessed. That evening we wandered about Forest Creek. We had not gone far before a digger with a pistol in his hand shot by us; he was followed by an immense mob, hooting, yelling, and screaming, as only a mob at the diggings can. It was in full pursuit, and we turned aside only in time to prevent ourselves from being knocked down in the confusion. "Stop him—stop him," was the cry. He was captured, and the cry changed to, "String him up—string him up—it's useless taking him to the police-office." "What has he done?" asked my brother of a quiet by-stander. "Shot a man in a quarrel at a grogshop." "String him up—string him up—confront him with the body," vociferated the mob. At this moment the firmly-secured and well-guarded culprit passed by, to be confronted with the dead body of his adversary. No sooner did he come into his presence than the CI-DEVANT corpse found his feet, "showed fight," and roared out, "Come on," with a most unghostlike vehemence. The fury of the mob cooled down; the people thought the man had been murdered, whereas the shot, fortunately for both, had glanced over the forehead without doing any serious injury. Taking advantage of this lull, the fugitive declared that the wounded man had been robbing him. This turned the tables, and, inspired by the hootings of the now indignant mob, the "dead man" took to his heels and disappeared. The diggers in Pennyweight Flat, Nicholson's Gully, Lever Flat, Dirty Dick's Gully, Gibson's Flat, at the mouth of Dingley Dell, and in Dingley Dell itself, were tolerably contented with their gains, although in many instances, the parties who were digging in the centre of the gullies, or what is called "the slip," experienced considerable trouble in bailing the water out of their holes. Some of the names given to the spots about Forest Creek are anything but euphonious. Dingley Dell is, however, an exception, and sounds quite musical compared to Dirty Dick's Gully. The former name was given to the place by a gentleman from Adelaide, and was suggested by the perpetual tinkling of the bullock's bells, it being a favourite camping place for bullock drivers, offering, as it did, an excellent supply of both wood, water, and food for their cattle. From whom the latter inelegant name originated I cannot precisely tell—but there are plenty of "dirty Dicks" all over the diggings. The current prices of this date at Forest Creek were as follows: flour, 9 to 10 pounds per hundred-weight; sugar, 1s. 6d. a pound, very scarce; tea, 3s.; rice, 1s.; coffee, 3s.; tobacco, 8s.; cheese, 3s.; butter, 4s.; honey, 3s. 6d.; candles, 1s. 6d; currants, 1s. 6d., very scarce; raisins, 1s. 6d.; figs, 2s. 6d.; salt, 1s. 6d. Picks, spades, and tin dishes, 10s. each. Gold 64s. per ounce. TUESDAY, 19.—Before breakfast we were busily employed in packing the "swags" when Octavius suddenly dropped the strap he held in his hand for that purpose, and darted into the store. Thinking that we had omitted something which he went to fetch, we continued our work. When everything was ready and the last strap in its place, we again thought of our absent comrade, making all sorts of surmises regarding his disappearance, when, just as Frank was going after him, in he walked, accompanied by a stranger whom he introduced as his uncle. This surprised us, as we were ignorant of his having any relatives in the colonies. He then explained that a younger brother of his father's had about eight years ago gone to South Australia, and that never having heard of him for some years they had mourned him as dead. After many adventures he had taken a fancy to the diggings, and had just come from Melbourne with a dray full of goods. He went to Gregory's store to dispose of them. Octavius had heard them in conversation together, and had mistaken his uncle's for his father's voice. Hence the precipitation of his exit. The uncle was a tall sunburnt man, who looked well-inured to hardship and fatigue. He stayed and took breakfast with us, and then having satisfactorily arranged his business with Gregory, and emptied his dray, he obligingly offered to convey Jessie and myself to Melbourne in it. Accordingly after dinner we all started together. Our new companion was a most agreeable person, and his knowledge of the colonies was extensive. With anecdotes of the bush, the mines, and the town, he made the journey pass most pleasantly. Before evening we reached the Golden Point near Mount Alexander. This term of "Golden" has been applied to a great many spots where the deposits have been richer than, usual. There was a Golden Point at Ballarat, and when the report of the Alexander diggings drew the people from there, they carried the name with them, and applied it to this portion of the mount. To the left of the Point, which was still full of labourers, was the store of Mr. Black, with the Union-Jack flying above it. It is a most noted store, and at one time when certain delicacies were not to be had in Melbourne they were comparatively cheap here. We passed by this busy spot and encamped at sunset at the foot of Mount Alexander. It was a lovely evening and our eyes were feasted by a Most glorious sight. All the trees of the forest gradually faded away in the darkness, but beyond them, and through them were glimpses of the granite-like walls of the mount, brilliantly shining in and reflecting the last glowing rays of the setting sun. Some of the gorgeous scenes of fairy-land seemed before us—we could have imagined that we were approaching by night some illuminated, some enchanted castle. That evening we sat late round our fire listening to the history which the uncle of Octavius related of some of his adventures in South Australia. The posts he had filled formed a curious medley of occupations, and I almost forget the routine in which they followed one another, but I will endeavour to relate his story as much as possible in his own words. "When I started from England, after having paid passage-money, &c., I found myself with about 200 pounds ready money in my purse—it was all I had to expect, and I determined to be very careful of it; but by a young man of five-and-twenty these resolutions, like lady's promises, are made to be broken. When I landed in Adelaide with my money in my pocket—minus a few pounds I had lost at whist and cribbage on board ship—I made my way to the best inn, where I stayed some days, and ran up rather a longish bill. Then I wanted to see the country, which I found impossible without a horse, so bought one, and rode about to the various stations, where I was generally hospitably received, and thus passed a few months very pleasantly, only my purse was running low. I sold the horse, then my watch, and spent the money. When that was gone, I thought of the letters of introduction I possessed. The first that came to hand was directed to a Wesleyan minister. I called there, looking as sanctimonious as I could. He heard my story, advised me to go to chapel regularly, 'And for your temporal wants,' said he, 'the Lord will provide.' I thanked him, and bowed myself off. "My first act was to burn my packet of introductory letters, my next was to engage myself to a stock-holder at 15s. a week and my rations. He was going up to his station at once, and I accompanied him. We travelled for about two hundred miles through a most beautiful country before we reached his home. His house was, in my ideas, a comical-looking affair—made of split logs of wood, with a bark roof, and a barrel stuck on the top of the roof at one end by way of a chimney-pot. His wife, a pale sickly little woman, seemed pleased to see us, for she had been much alarmed by the natives, who were rather numerous about the neighbourhood. There was only a young lad, and an old shepherd and his wife upon the station, besides herself. Before I had been there six weeks she died, and her new-born little baby died too; there was not a doctor for miles, and the shepherd's wife was worse than useless. I believe this often happens in the bush—it's not a place for woman-folks. "I was here eighteen months—it was a wild sort of life, and just suited my fancy; but when I found I had some money to receive, I thought a spree in town would be a nice change, so off I marched. My spree lasted as long as my money, and then I went as barman to a public-house at Clare, some way up the country—here I got better wages and better board, and stopped about half-a-year. Then I turned brewer's drayman, and delivered casks of good Australian ale about Adelaide for 30s. a week. The brewer failed, and I joined in a speculation with an apple dealer to cart a lot up to the Kapunda copper mines. That paid well. I stopped up there as overseer over four-and-twenty bullock-drays. Well, winter came, and I had little to do, though I drew my 30s. a week regularly enough, when the directors wanted a contract for putting the small copper-dust into bags, and sewing them up. I offered to do the job at 2d. a bag, and could get through a hundred and fifty a day. How much is that? Oh! 12s. 6d. a-piece. I forgot to tell you I'd a mate at the work. That was good earnings in those days; and me and my mate, who was quite a lad, were making a pretty penny, when some others offered to do them a halfpenny a bag cheaper. I did the same, and we kept it to ourselves for about four weeks longer, when a penny a bag was offered. There was competition for you! This roused my bile—I threw it up altogether—and off to Adelaide again. Soon spent all my cash, and went into a ship-chandler's office till they failed; then was clerk to a butcher, and lost my situation for throwing a quarter of his own mutton at him in a rage; and then I again turned brewer's man. Whilst there I heard of the diggings—left the brewer and his casks to look after themselves, and off on foot to Ballarat. "Here I found the holes averaging some thirty feet—which was a style of hard work I didn't quite admire; so hearing of the greater facility of the Alexander diggings, I went through Bully Rook Forest, and tried my luck in the Jim Crow Ranges. This paid well; and I bought a dray, and bring up goods to the stores, which I find easier work, and twice as profitable as digging. There's my story; and little I thought when I went into Gregory's store to-day, that I should find my curly-pated nephew ready to hear it." Next day we travelled on, and halted near Saw-pit Gully; it was early in the afternoon, and we took a walk about this most interesting locality. The earth was torn up everywhere—a few lucky hits had sufficed to re-collect a good many diggers there, and they were working vigorously. At dusk the labour ceased—the men returned to their tents, and for the last time our ears were assailed by the diggers' usual serenade. Imagine some hundreds of revolvers almost instantaneously fired—the sound reverberating through the mighty forests, and echoed far and near—again and again till the last faint echo died away in the distance. Then a hundred blazing fires burst upon the sight—around them gathered the rough miners themselves—their sun-burnt, hair-covered faces illumined by the ruddy glare. Wild songs, and still wilder bursts of laughter are heard; gradually the flames sink and disappear, and an oppressive stillness follows (sleep rarely refuses to visit the diggers' lowly couch), broken only by some midnight carouser, as he vainly endeavours to find his tent. No fear of a "peeler" taking him off to a police-station, or of being brought before a magistrate next morning, and "fined five shillings for being drunk." Early on Tuesday morning I gave a parting look to the diggings—our dray went slowly onwards—a slight turn in the road, and the last tent has vanished from my sight. "Never," thought I, "shall I look on such a scene again!" <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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