When I went to join the insurgents at the Stockade, I was accompanied by
a man, who had been living in a tent near my own--a German, whom I only
knew by the name of "Karl." He was as singular a man, as was to be met
amongst the many incomprehensible characters found on a gold-field. He
was only twenty-five years of age, though he had already travelled over
much of the world, and spoke several languages fluently. He knew
something of the literature, science, arts, and customs of almost every
nation, ancient or modern; and having a wonderful memory, as well as a
great command of language, he could be very entertaining in
conversation. My attention was first called to the extraordinary power
of his memory, by hearing him once talking on the relative merits of the
poets.
He appeared to know all the poetical writings of the English, German,
and Italian authors by heart: as he could repeat long passages from any
of them, when called upon.
I remember, amongst many severe criticisms which he gave us on the
poetry of Byron, his quoting the phrases of "sad knee," "melodious
tears," "cloudy groan," "poetic marble," "loud hill," "foolish flower,"
"learned fingers," and "silly sword," all of which he mentioned were
absurd expressions.
The reader may think my sketch of this individual overdrawn, when I add,
that in addition to his other accomplishments, he was not only a
musician of great skill, but, in my opinion, a musical prodigy; and
excited more astonishment and admiration by his musical talents, than by
any other of the many accomplishments he possessed.
Often would he wander alone, where nature was most lovely; and from her
surrounding beauties, add inspiration to the melody that filled his
soul.
The notes of birds, the whispering of the winds, and the murmuring of
the streams, were all caught and combined, or harmoniously arranged in
enchanting melodies, which he would reproduce on his violin, after
returning to his tent, in strains that seemed enraptured.
Never did I listen to the music made by him, without thinking myself a
better man: for all the gentler sentiments of my soul would be awakened,
and expanded into action under its influence. For hours would the
sounds echo in my memory--making me forget the sorrows of the past, as
well as the cares of the future; and turning my thoughts to an ideal
world, where material ugliness is unknown.
I defy any man with a soul superior to that of a monkey, to have been
guilty of a mean or dishonest action, after listening to a tune composed
and played by Karl the German.
I do not call myself a judge of music, or of the relative merits of
different musicians, and only form this opinion from the effect produced
on my mind by his performance.
I am not easily excited by musical, or dramatic representations; but
Mario's magnificent rendering of the death scene in "Lucrezia Borgia,"
or the astounding recklessness Alboni is accustomed to throw into the
"Brindisi," could never awaken within my soul such deep thoughts, as
those often stirred by the simple strains of Karl's violin.
Though possessing all these great natural abilities--strengthened by
travel, and experience in both men and books--Karl was a slave to one
habit, that rendered all his talents unavailing, and hindered him from
ever rising to the station, he might otherwise have held among men.
He was a confirmed drunkard; and could never be kept sober, so long as
there was a shilling in his pocket!
Pride had hitherto restrained him from seeking professional engagement,
and exhibiting his musical talents to the world, although, according to
his own story, he had been brought up to the profession of a musician.
He was even becoming celebrated in it, when the demon of intemperance
made his acquaintance, and dragged him down to the lowest depths of
poverty and despair.
Once, when in Melbourne, starvation drove him to seek an interview with
the manager of a theatre, who listened with wonder and admiration to the
soul-entrancing melody he produced.
A sum far beyond his expectations was offered; and money advanced to
enable him to make a respectable appearance; but on the night in which
his _debut_ was to have been made, he was not forthcoming! He had been
found in the street, drunk and disorderly, and was carried to the
lock-up--where he passed the evening among policemen, instead of
exhibiting himself before a delighted audience on the stage of a
theatre!
I know that he used every effort to subdue this passion for strong
drink. But all proved unavailing. Notwithstanding the strength of his
mind in other respects, he could not resist the fatal fascination.
Small minds may be subdued and controlled by worldly interests; but the
power to curb the action of a large and active intellect may not always
lie within itself.
Karl wished to join the insurgents--as they were called--at the Eureka
Stockade; and although myself anxious that their number should be
augmented as much as possible, I endeavoured to persuade him against
having anything to do with the disturbance.
The truth was, that I thought foreigners had at that time too much to
say about the manner in which the colony was governed.
Although I could not deny that the faults of which they complained, in
reality existed, yet I believed that they were not the persons who had
the right to correct them. Many of the foreign diggers had a deal more
to say, about the misgovernment of the colony, than any of Her Majesty's
subjects; and I did not like to hear them talk treason. They had come
to the colony for the purpose of making money--because Australia offered
superior advantages for that purpose--and I thought that they should
have been satisfied with the government found there, without taking upon
themselves to reform its abuses.
I explained all this to Karl; but, while admitting the truth of what I
said, he still adhered to his determination to take a part in the
revolution of Eureka.
"Several times," said he, "have I had armed men command me to show a
licence, and I have also been imprisoned, because I did not have that
piece of paper in my pocket. I have several times been insulted in the
colony, because I am not an Englishman. I care but little which gets
the worst of this struggle--the minions of the government or its
subjects. Where the blood of either, or both, is to flow, there I wish
to be."
I said nothing more to dissuade Karl from following this singular wish;
but permitted him to accompany me to the stockade--where he was enrolled
in one of the companies.
Volume Three, Chapter XII.