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 passing 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 passed 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 assisting 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 assent.
"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 assistance. 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 principal 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 passenger 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 determiinately overlook the vast amount of
labour which the gold diggings have consumed.
