The moral state of the Diggings, and the moral effect of the gold
discovery, are subjects of deep interest to every well regulated mind.
It is but natural to suppose that, amidst the extraordinary excitements
of these times, there should not be great progression in social virtues
and refinement. It is equally natural to imagine that, among a community
of men, out of the pale of civilized life, removed from restraint,
surrounded by degrading and deteriorating influences, and constantly
excited by the very character of their occupation, there would be found
much that is repulsive and much that is condemnable. At the same time I
must confess, that residence at different parts of the gold region, and
continual enquiry and observation, have satisfied me that what is
commonly called open crime does not exist there to a greater extent than
in towns, if at all to so great an extent. Life and property I believe
to be as safe there as in town, if not safer. Even as to coarseness and
incivility, in all my wanderings there, I never experienced any conduct
but courtesy and kindness. There were by no means the absorbing
selfishness, and the disposition to triumph over the educated, which had
been represented to me; on the contrary, acts of obliging good nature
proceeded even from the roughest of Tasmania’s rough ones. I simply
speak as I found. Then as to treatment of females; I never heard of an
outrage or of an incivility. Women seemed to be tabooed at the diggings;
and however a man may regret taking a wife there on account of the
discomforts of such a home, he need be under no apprehension of the
safety of her person or her feelings.
The manner in which Sunday is observed, is highly creditable to the
district. The utter desertion of the holes and washing stations, the
quietude and propriety of the tentwalks, and the readiness with which a
congregation is collected, whenever any person could be found who had
benevolence and zeal enough to shew an interest in the religious welfare
of the poor miner, present very pleasing features to the visitor. Only
upon one instance did I observe tossing on a Sunday. Never did I hear of
an instance of interruption of divine worship, nor even of private
religious meetings. With no ordinary feelings of pleasure have I heard
in the calmness of a Sunday evening, voices from several tents mingling
in sacred harmony. Stopping for a night on Campbell’s Creek, I was
delighted with the sounds of psalmody proceeding from an opposite tent.
Several favorite airs were sung, and the several parts well maintained.
All at once a company near struck up a song. Immediately loud cries
issued from the neighbouring tents of “lay down, lay down.” The
revellers yielded to the pressure from without, and again the sweet
notes of praise to Jehovah resounded through the quiet glen.
All this is the bright side of the picture. The reverse is not so
pleasing. Swearing is an almost all prevailing vice. The recklessness
begotten by the wild and uncomfortable life, induces this licentiousness
of speech. That kind of existence, also, is peculiarly antagonistic to
habits of reading and reflection. No retirement is to be found in the
tent. Fatigue indisposes one for mental exertion, and there is not the
great incentive to reading—a wish to please. The evening’s talk is about
the work of the day, the probability of success, arrangement for future
labor, and, too often, some coarse and spicy anecdote to sustain that
excitement of spirit natural to men. No woman’s soft voice is there to
soothe and to refine. Under no circumstances could I have known better
the moral influence of woman in the element of civilization, than in a
sojourn at the gold fields. The filth, the disorder, the domestic misery
give place at the presence of a female to cleanliness, regularity and
comfort. When I passed a tent in which there was a swept floor, a bit of
furniture, nicely washed plates, bright pannicans, a sheet to the bed
with a clean counterpane over, with here and there a sack or piece of
old carpet laid down, I knew that the genial influence of woman had been
there. A man once alluding to his home under these circumstances said to
me, “you can’t tell how comfortable we are.” There was a pretty sight to
be witnessed at Bendigo; a young, and not an ugly wife, standing under
the green bough porch of her tent, playing with a pair of beautiful
canaries in a cage.
The lovers of order and the friends of humanity must surely rejoice at
the noble stand taken by the government, to sanction no sale of
alcoholic drinks at the Diggings. The miners themselves too well
appreciate the security and peace this gives, ever to desire a change of
the system. True it is that tents still exist as “Sly Grogshops,” and
true it is, also, that scenes of riot and bloodshed are only to be found
in their vicinity. Men, otherwise agreeable mates and quiet neighbours,
become under the influence of drink, tumultuous and quarrelsome. The
destruction of those nests of crime at Friar’s Creek, soon made
Murderer’s Flat and Choke’em Gully associated only with the history of
the past. Many parties before going up, make agreement to be Total
Abstainers while at the Diggings.
One prominent and most common evil to be apprehended from the diggings,
is the sense of degradation induced by the uncomfortable and often
disgusting associations of the place. Even gentlemen of refinement and
education have been so oppressed by the circumstances around them, as to
become reckless of their personal appearance, and even their language
and demeanour. They have sunk to a level with the mass about them. This
loss of self-respect is the precursor of a deterioration of moral
feeling. The same causes operate in producing disunion of parties.
Always together, and always in contact with the same irritating
circumstances, they sometimes lead the life of Kilkenny Cats, which are
said to be eternally devouring one another. A very sensible digger made
the following judicious observations to a new party he had formed. “Now”
said he “we shall have hardships, and we are sure to lose our temper;
when this happens, let us lay it to the circumstances and not to each
other.” The effect of this life upon youths is most disastrous, and many
parents may have to rue the day they suffered them to leave their homes
of comfort and of moral control.
The condition of children at the mines is to be particularly regretted.
Exposed to scenes with which their young eyes ought not to be
conversant, knowing little of the sweets and privacy of a well ordered
household, with no means of daily instruction at hand, and with no
Sabbath bells to call them to the place of prayer, they fall into habits
which materially and sadly affect their future course. It is not
impracticable to have even _Itinerant_ Government Schools at the
Diggings for the young; it is not impracticable, and it would be highly
desirable, to establish good circulating libraries, of light and useful,
but not trashy, books for the adults.
Could nothing more be done for the moral and religious welfare of the
poor diggers? The Bishop of Melbourne, while I was up there, made an
earnest appeal to the miners at Bendigo to get a church erected before
the wet season came on. But it is comparatively of little use urging
this duty upon men who know that they are to leave next week. It is a
deeply interesting sight to witness a number of rough, unshorn, and toil
worn men assemble around some spreading gum tree in the wilderness, in
the newly trodden gold fields, desiring to worship the God of their
fathers with their brethren of a kindred faith. How pleasing, and yet
how sad the emotions which rise in the breast during such an exercise!
We love to think of _that_ House of Prayer now distant from us, and of
_that_ dear company with whom we met to worship. Visions of sweet home
appear, and each familiar countenance passes in review. And then we are
anxious and concerned about the friends we left behind us. A tear starts
in the eye at the thought of a wife or darling little one. It is well if
we then can feel that a Father above is watching our absent home.
The moral effects of the Diggings is an important subject. We may and do
regret the debauchery and extravagance consequent upon the sudden
accumulation of wealth,—the interruption to the regular course of
business,—the indisposition of the miner, whether successful or
unsuccessful, to resume his accustomed occupation in the field or in the
workshop,—the absorbing thought of gain among all classes,—the neglect
of literature, and the indifference to religion. But there is a serious
social evil which is too often lost sight of;—the breaking up of
families. How many a bitter tear, and how much domestic trouble have the
Gold Fields occasioned. Wives separated from husbands, and children far
away from the care of fathers. The object of love in a happy home has a
stranger to close his eyes of death. Some there are of whom no tidings
arrive. The depths of the forest alone can reveal the sad tale. One
evening, coming down from the Bendigo, I encamped near a party also
returning to town. Some children playing about drew my attention.
Falling into conversation with the mother I learnt the following story.
Her husband, a Burra miner, had gone to Mount Alexander. Having sent for
his wife, she proceeded with her family overland. After this trying
journey, she arrived only to hear of the death of her partner. “When
dying in the hospital” said she, “the children lay heavy upon him; he
was always calling out for them.” And that man was buried without a
follower in the graveyard of strangers.
There are not wanting pleasing moral features of the Diggings. At the
same time we must bear in mind, that in this our embryonic state as a
Golden Land, we see the first fruits only of disorganization; by and by
we may, if we use proper means, witness happier effects. It is highly
gratifying to observe many who had been honestly contending with
pecuniary difficulties become by a visit to the mines freed from debt
and care. Many such have quietly returned to their bush homesteads, and
are now busy in preparing for the Golden grain. As friends of progress
we may congratulate ourselves upon the development of the Anti-feudal
element. In spite of the confusion of the times, and the dissipation of
lucky diggers, we must feel proud to live in a time when the sons of
toil, without bidding or control, may realise the means of competency.
It is to be hoped that such persons will let their children be
benefitted by this change, in the improvement of their education. This
is preeminently the occasion, when true patriots and philanthropists
should awake to an earnest feeling of the moral wants of the times, and
when they should in stern resolve prepare at once to do their duty. The
future condition of our colony, and its influence upon the safety,
comfort, and happiness of our own homes, greatly depend upon the efforts
of the few and the unselfish, amidst the whirl of excitement and the
rush for wealth.