FOREST CREEK
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!"