Adam Smith,
Settled The Question Of "The Wealth Of Nations." The Source Of Pauperism
Will Be Settled In Victoria By Any Quill-Driver, Who Has The Pluck To Write
The History Of Public-Houses In The Towns, And Sly-Grog Sellers
On The Gold-Fields.
Let us start for Ballaarat, Christmas, December 1852.
- 'Vide' - 'tempore suo' -
'Julii Caesaris junioris. De Campis Aureis, Australia Felix Commentaria.'
For the purpose, it is now sufficient to say that I had joined a party;
fixed our tent on the Canadian Flat; went up to the Camp to get our gold
licence; for one pound ten shilling sterling a head we were duly licensed
for one month to dig, search for, and remove gold, etc. - We wanted to drink
a glass of porter to our future success, but there was no Bath Hotel
at the time. - Proceeded to inspect the famous Golden Point (a sketch of which
I had seen in London in the 'Illustrated News'). The holes all around,
three feet in diameter, and five to eight feet in depth, had been abandoned!
we jumped into one, and one of my mates gave me the first lesson
in "fossiking," - In less than five minutes I pounced on a little pouch -
the yellow boy was all there, - my eyes were sparkling, - I felt a sensation
identical to a first declaration of love in by-gone times. - "Great works,"
at last was my bursting exclamation. In old Europe I had to take off my hat
half a dozen times, and walk from east to west before I could earn one pound
in the capacity of sworn interpreter, and translator of languages in the city
of London. Here, I had earned double the amount in a few minutes,
without crouching or crawling to Jew or Christian. Had my good angel
prevailed on me to stick to that blessed Golden Point, I should have now
to relate a very different story: the gold fever, however, got the best of
my usual judgment, and I dreamt of, and pretended nothing else, than a hole
choked with gold, sunk with my darling pick, and on virgin ground. - I started
the hill right-hand side, ascending Canadian Gully, and safe as the
Bank of England I pounced on gold - seventeen and a half ounces, depth ten feet.
Chapter III.
Jupiter Tonans.
One fine morning (Epiphany week), I was hard at work (excuse old chum,
if I said hard: though my hand had been scores of times compelled in London
to drop the quill through sheer fatigue, yet I never before handled a pick
and shovel), I hear a rattling noise among the brush. My faithful dog,
Bonaparte, would not keep under my control. "What's up?" "Your licence,
mate." was the peremptory question from a six-foot fellow in blue shirt,
thick boots, the face of a ruffian armed with a carbine and fixed bayonet.
The old "all right" being exchanged, I lost sight of that specimen of colonial
brutedom and his similars, called, as I then learned, "traps" and "troopers."
I left off work, and was unable to do a stroke more that day.
"I came, then, 16,000 miles in vain to get away from the law of the sword!"
was my sad reflection. My sorrow was not mitigated by my mates and neighbours
informing me, that Australia was a penal settlement. Inveterate murderers,
audacious burglars, bloodthirsty bushrangers, were the ruling triumvirate,
the scour of old Europe, called Vandemonians, in this bullock-drivers' land.
Of course I felt tamed, and felt less angry, at the following search
for licence. At the latter end of the month, one hundred and seventy
seven pounds troy, in two superb masses of gold, were discovered at the depth
of sixty feet, on the hill opposite where I was working. The talk was soon
Vulcanish through the land. Canadian Gully was as rich in lumps as other
gold-fields are in dust. Diggers, whom the gold fever had rendered
stark blind, so as to desert Ballaarat for Mount Alexander and Bendigo,
now returned as ravens to the old spot; and towards the end of February, '53,
Canadian Gully was in its full glory.
Chapter IV.
Incipit Lamentatio.
The search for licences, or "the traps are out to-day" - their name at the
time - happened once a month. The strong population now on this gold-field had
perhaps rendered it necessary twice a month. Only in October, I recollect
they had come out three times. Yet, "the traps are out" was annoying,
but not exasperating. Not exasperating, because John Bull, 'ab initio et
ante secula', was born for law, order, and safe money-making on land and sea.
They were annoying, because, said John, not that he likes his money more
than his belly, but he hates the bayonet: I mean, of course, he does not want
to be bullied with the bayonet. To this honest grumbling of John,
the drunkard, that is the lazy, which make the incapables, joined their cant,
and the Vandemonians pulled up with wonted audacity. In a word, the
thirty shillings a month for the gold licence became a nuisance.
A public meeting was announced on Bakery-hill. It was in November, 1853.
Four hundred diggers were present. I recollect I heard a "Doctor Carr"
poking about among the heaps of empty bottles all round the Camp, and asked
who paid for the good stuff that was in them, and whither was it gone.
Of course, Doctor Carr did not mention, that one of those bottles, corked
and sealed with the "Crown," was forced open with Mr. Hetherington's corkscrew;
and that said Dr. Carr had then to confess that the bottle aforesaid contained
a nobbler some 250 pounds worth for himself. Great works already at Toorak.
'Tout cela soit dit en passant.' Mr. Hetherington, then a storekeeper
on the Ballaarat Flat, and now of the Cladendon Hotel, Ballaarat Township,
is a living witness. For the fun of the thing, I spoke a few words
which merited me a compliment from the practitioner, who also honoured me
with a private precious piece of information - "'Nous allons bientot avoir
la Republique Australienne!
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