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

<h3> APPENDIX </h3> <h4> WHO SHOULD EMIGRATE? </h4> The question of "Who should emigrate?" has now become one of such importance (owing to the number who are desirous of quitting their native land to seek a surer means of subsistence in our vast colonial possessions), that any book treating of Australia would be sadly deficient were a subject of such universal interest to be left unnoticed; and where there are so many of various capabilities, means and dispositions, in need of guidance and advice as to the advantage of their emigrating, it is probable that the experience of any one, however slight that experience may be, will be useful to some. Any one to succeed in the colonies must take with him a quantity of self-reliance, energy, and perseverance; this is the best capital a man can have. Let none rely upon introductions—they are but useless things at the best—they may get you invited to a good dinner; but now that fresh arrivals in Melbourne are so much more numerous than heretofore, I almost doubt if they would do even that. A quick, clever fellow with a trade of his own, inured to labour, and with a light heart, that can laugh at the many privations which the gipsy sort of life he must lead in the colonies will entail upon him; any one of this description cannot fail to get on. But for the number of clerks, shopmen, &c., who daily arrive in Australia, there is a worse chance of their gaining a livelihood than if they had remained at home. With this description of labour the colonial market is largely overstocked; and it is distressing to notice the number of young men incapable of severe manual labour, who, with delicate health, and probably still more delicately filled purses, swarm the towns in search of employment, and are exposed to heavy expenses which they can earn nothing to meet. Such men have rarely been successful at the diggings; the demand for them in their accustomed pursuits is very limited in proportion to their numbers; they gradually sink into extreme poverty—too often into reckless or criminal habits—till they disappear from the streets to make way for others similarly unfortunate. A little while since I met with the histories of two individuals belonging to two very different classes of emigrants; and they are so applicable to this subject, that I cannot forbear repeating them. The first account is that of a gentleman who went to Melbourne some eight months ago, carrying with him a stock of elegant acquirements and accomplishments, but little capital. He is now in a starving condition, almost with-out the hope of extrication, and is imploring from his friends the means to return to England, if he live long enough to receive them. The colours in which he paints the colonies are deplorable in the extreme. The other account is that of a compositor who emigrated much about the same time. He writes to his former office-mates that he got immediate and constant employment at the rate of 7 pounds per week, and naturally thinks that there is no place under the sun like Melbourne. Both emigrants are right. There is no better place under the sun than Melbourne for those who can do precisely what the Melbourne people want; and which they must and will have at any price; but there is no worse colony to which those can go who have not the capabilities required by the Melbourne people. They are useless and in the way, their accomplishments are disregarded, their misfortunes receive no pity; and, whilst a good carpenter or bricklayer would make a fortune, a modern Raphael might starve. But even those possessed of every qualification for making first-class colonists, will at first meet with much to surprise and annoy them, and will need all the energy they possess, to enable them to overcome the many disagreeables which encounter them as soon as they arrive. Let us, for example, suppose the case of an emigrant, with no particular profession or business, but having a strong constitution, good common sense, and a determination to bear up against every hardship, so that in the end it leads him to independence. Let us follow him through the difficulties that bewilder the stranger in Melbourne during the first few days of his arrival. The commencement of his dilemmas will be that of getting his luggage from the ship; and so quickly do the demands for pounds and shillings fall upon him, that he is ready to wish he had pitched half his "traps" over-board. However, we will suppose him at length safely landed on the wharf at Melbourne, with all his boxes beside him. He inquires for a store, and learns that there are plenty close at hand; and then forgetting that he is in the colonies, he looks round for a porter and truck, and looks in vain. After waiting as patiently as he can for about a couple of hours, he manages to hire an empty cart and driver; the latter lifts the boxes into the conveyance (expecting, of course, his employer to lend a hand), smacks his whip, and turns down street after street till he reaches a tall, grim-looking budding, in front of which he stops, with a "That ere's a store," and a demand for a sovereign, more or less. This settled, he coolly requests the emigrant to assist him in unloading, and leaves him to get his boxes carried inside as best he can. Perhaps some of the storekeeper's men come to the rescue, and with their help the luggage is conveyed into the store-room (which is often sixty or eighty feet in length), where the owner receives a memorandum of their arrival. Boxes or parcels may remain there in perfect safety for months, so long as a shilling a week is paid for each. Our emigrant, having left his property in security, now turns to seek a lodging for himself; and the extreme difficulty of procuring house accommodation, with its natural consequences, an extraordinary rate of rent, startles and amazes him. He searches the city in vain, and betakes himself to the suburbs, where he procures a small, half-furnished room, in a wooden house for thirty shillings a week. The scarcity of houses in proportion to the population, is one of the greatest drawbacks to the colony; but we could not expect it to be otherwise when we remember that in one year Victoria received an addition of nearly 80,000 inhabitants. The masculine portion of these emigrants, with few exceptions, started off at once to the diggings; hence the deficiency in the labour market is only partially filled up by the few who remained behind, and by the fewer still who forsake the gold-fields; whilst the abundance of money, and the deficiency of good workmen, have raised the expenses of building far above the point at which it would be a profitable investment for capital. Meantime, the want is only partially supplied by the wooden cottages which are daily springing up around the boundaries of the city; but this is insufficient to meet the increasing want of shelter, and on the southern bank of the Yarra there are four or five thousand people living in tents. This settlement is appropriately called "Canvas Town." But let us return to our newly-arrived emigrant. Having succeeded in obtaining a lodging, he proceeds to purchase some necessary articles of food, and looks incredulously at the shopkeeper when told that butter is 3s. 6d. a pound, cheese, ham, or bacon 2s. to 2s. 6d., and eggs 4s. or 5s. a dozen. He wisely dispenses with such luxuries, and contents himself with bread at 1s. 6d. the four-pound loaf, and meat at 5d. a pound. He sleeps soundly, for the day has been a fatiguing one, and next morning with renewed spirits determines to search immediately for employment. He does not much care what it is at first, so that he earns something; for his purse feels considerably lighter after the many demands upon it yesterday. Before an hour is over, he finds himself engaged to a storekeeper at a rate of three pounds a-week; his business being to load and unload drays, roll casks, lift heavy goods, &c.; and here we will leave him, for once set going he will soon find a better berth. If he have capital, it is doubtless safely deposited in the Bank until a little acquaintance with the colonies enables him to invest it judiciously; and meanwhile, if wise, he will spend every shilling as though it were his last; but if his capital consists only of the trifle in his purse, no matter, the way he is setting to work will soon rectify that deficiency, and he stands a good chance in a few years of returning to England a comparatively wealthy man. To those of my own sex who desire to emigrate to Australia, I say do so by all means, if you can go under suitable protection, possess good health, are not fastidious or "fine-lady-like," can milk cows, churn butter, cook a good damper, and mix a pudding. The worst risk you run is that of getting married, and finding yourself treated with twenty times the respect and consideration you may meet with in England. Here (as far as number goes) women beat the "lords of creation;" in Australia it is the reverse, and, there we may be pretty sure of having our own way. But to those ladies who cannot wait upon themselves, and whose fair fingers are unused to the exertion of doing anything useful, my advice is, for your own sakes remain at home. Rich or poor, it is all the same; for those who can afford to give 40 pounds a-year to a female servant will scarcely know whether to be pleased or not at the acquisition, so idle and impertinent are they; scold them, and they will tell you that "next week Tom, or Bill, or Harry will be back from the diggings, and then they'll be married, and wear silk dresses, and be as fine a lady as yourself;" and with some such words will coolly dismiss themselves from your service, leaving their poor unfortunate mistress uncertain whether to be glad of their departure or ready to cry because there's nothing prepared for dinner, and she knows not what to set about first. For those who wish to invest small sums in goods for Australia, boots and shoes, cutlery, flash jewellery, watches, pistols (particularly revolvers), gunpowder, fancy articles, cheap laces, and baby-linen offer immense profits. The police in Victoria is very inefficient, both in the towns and on the roads. Fifteen persons were stopped during the same afternoon whilst travelling on the highway between Melbourne and St. Kilda. They were robbed, and tied to trees within sight of each other—this too in broad daylight. On the roads to the diggings it is still worse; and no one intending to turn digger should leave England without a good supply of fire-arms. In less than one week more than a dozen robberies occurred between Kyneton and Forest Creek, two of which terminated in murder. The diggings themselves are comparatively safe—quite as much so as Melbourne itself—and there is a freemasonry in the bush which possesses an irresistible charm for adventurous bachelors, and causes them to prefer the risk of bushrangers to witnessing the dreadful scenes that are daily and hourly enacting in a colonial town. Life in the bush is wild, free and independent. Healthy exercise, fine scenery, and a clear and buoyant atmosphere, maintain an excitement of the spirits and a sanguineness of temperament peculiar to this sort of existence; and many are the pleasant evenings, enlivened with the gay jest or cheerful song, which are passed around the bush fires of Australia. The latest accounts from the diggings speak of them most encouragingly. Out of a population of 200,000 (which is calculated to be the number of the present inhabitants of Victoria), half are said to be at the gold-fields, and the average earnings are still reckoned at nearly an ounce per man per week. Ballarat is again rising into favour, and its riches are being more fully developed. The gold there is more unequally distributed than at Mount Alexander, and therefore the proportion of successful to unsuccessful diggers is not so great as at the latter place. But then the individual gains are in some cases greater. The labour is also more severe than at the Mount or Bendigo, as the gold lies deeper, and more numerous trials have to be made before the deposits are struck upon. The Ovens is admitted to be a rich gold-field, but the work there is severely laborious, owing to a super-abundance of water. The astonishing mineral wealth of Mount Alexander is evidenced by the large amounts which it continues to yield, notwithstanding the immense quantities that have already been taken from it. The whole country in that neighbourhood appears to be more or less auriferous. Up to the close of last year the total supposed amount of gold procured from the Victoria diggings, is 3,998,324 ounces, which, when calculated at the average English value of 4 pounds an ounce, is worth nearly SIXTEEN MILLIONS STERLING. One-third of this is distinctly authenticated as having come down by escort during the three last mouths of 1852. In Melbourne the extremes of wealth and poverty meet, and many are the anecdotes of the lavish expenditure of successful diggers that are circulated throughout the town. I shall only relate two which fell under my own observation. Having occasion to make a few purchases in the linen drapery line, I entered a good establishment in Collins Street for that purpose. It was before noon, for later in the day the shops are so full that to get a trifling order attended to would be almost a miracle. There was only one customer in the shop, who was standing beside the counter, gazing with extreme dissatisfaction upon a quantity of goods of various colours and materials that lay there for his inspection. He was a rough-looking customer enough, and the appearance of his hands gave strong indication that the pickaxe and spade were among the last tools he had handled. "It's a SHINY thing that I want," he was saying as I entered. "These are what we should call shining goods," said the shopman, as he held up the silks, alpacas, &c., to the light. "They're not the SHINY sort that I want," pursued the digger, half-doggedly, half-angrily. "I'll find another shop; I guess you won't show your best goods to me—you think, mayhap, I can't pay for them—but I can, though," and he laid a note for fifty pounds upon the counter, adding, "maybe you'll show me some SHINY stuff now!" Unable to comprehend the wishes of his customer, the shopman called to his assistance the master of the establishment, who being, I suppose, of quicker apprehension, placed some satins before him. "I thought the paper would help you find it. I want a gown for my missus. What's the price?" "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 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 determinately overlook the vast amount of labour which the gold diggings have consumed. Whenever I meet with this class 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 passage 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 quantity, 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 passage 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 assist 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. Pass down the best streets of Melbourne: you see one or two good shops or houses, and on either side an empty spot or a mass 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 classes 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. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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