Banking Under Difficulties/Chapter 11
CHAPTER XI.
Some time in the month of August a quartz reef was discovered at a place called Jackass Flat; a rich lead was found cropping out on the surface. The discoverers marked out a prospectors’ claim and then laid on their friends. Claims were marked off for three miles on the supposed line of reef. There were six in the prospectors’ claim, not one of whom would sell out for £500. One ton of stone was packed down to Adelong, a distance of seventy miles; was crushed at one of the machines there, and yielded 120 ozs. Nothing more was found; the reef had run out. It was merely a “blow.”
A party of gentlemen connected with the squatting interest, desirous of trying their luck at the diggings, started on a four months’ trip, limiting themselves to time so as to return to their station in time for shearing. They had bad luck until the end of their time, when they got fair prospects. One of the party cleared off the surface to a depth of 2 ft., when he came to the bed rock. All at once one of his mates said, “What is the day of the month?” “The fifteenth,” was the reply. “Not another day’s work will I do at the diggings,” said he, at the same time sticking his pick into the rock. His mates were willing enough to give up the digger’s life. One of their number put the billy on the fire, and the others set to work to pack up their traps. Some new chums passing by asked them if they could put them on a piece of good ground. “Yes,” said one of the party, “this claim is for sale, tent, tools, and all.” “What do you want for the lot?” “Twenty pounds,” was the reply, A bargain was struck. The squatters lost no time in making up their swags and away they went. Before the billy placed on the fire by them had boiled, one of the new chums took up the pick and, after a few strokes, unearthed a good-sized nugget. They worked steadily on, and in less than a month cleared five hundred pounds a man. The squatters did not hear of their ill-luck till some time after their return to the station.
12th August.—Moved into our new office to-day, a wooden building with shingle roof; it contained two rooms besides the bank chamber, namely, bedroom and parlour. The bank chamber was neatly fitted up, and decidedly the most comfortable room in the house, there being a fireplace in it. The bedroom was a great improvement on the room at Kidd's; the parlour was simply a mistake, and never used except as a thoroughfare, there being no fireplace in it, and only four doors. We now commenced to keep regular hours—opened the office at ten a.m. and closed at three p.m. After the bank was closed we had our dinner behind the counter, so that we might have the benefit of the fire. Our first messenger was a darkey; a fair cook, but too extravagant. He always had a lot of coloured gentlemen about the kitchen, who of course were entertained at our expense, and he very soon got “marching orders.” We then got a Chinaman, Iyon by name, the cleanest and best cook I ever knew. When we got fairly settled in our new establishment I became a subscriber to the only library in the place, no great choice of books, and for this luxury I had to pay 6s. 8d. per month.
23rd August.—To-day one of our select few was taken up by the police as a “ticket-of-leave” man out of his district. The news spread, as news always will do, like wild-fire, and, of course, was the chief topic of conversation. He indulged freely at times, and when he had too much, was noisy, and often-times very abusive; this, no doubt, attracted the attention of the police, who soon found out his pedigree, and this was the climax. Had he behaved himself with propriety for three months longer his time would have expired, and he would have been at liberty to go where he pleased.
18th September.—A dance room opened this evening at the Empire Hotel, Carmichael’s, a first-class band was engaged, as soon as the music struck up I could not resist the temptation, so went over. In a room 14 x 20 I found some forty or fifty diggers standing about, smoking, chatting, and a few dancing. There were only three dance girls, and those who were fortunate enough to secure one as partner must have found it hard work dancing on a floor fully an inch thick in mud. Just fancy fifty diggers coming into a room with their muddy boots, and walking about; what a nice state the floor would be in for dancing. It struck me as a queer sight to see hairy-faced men in pea jackets, and long boots, with pipes in their mouths, dancing together. The dance room was a great attraction, after every dance the landlord expected each girl to entice her partner to the bar, to pay for a drink for himself, his partner, and often-times a friend or two; so you see that sort of enjoyment, with nobblers at a shilling each, costs something, and is a great source of revenue to the landlord. At first there were growls innumerable. There being so few girls, it was impossible for all those who wished to dance to get partners; however, those who were not fortunate enough to get a a partner had to take a hairy-faced gentleman or not dance at all.
Reliable information being wanted as to the state of the goldfield, and I having been requested to furnish same, I wrote the following letter to the Melbourne manager:—
“Since I last wrote you no great change for the better has taken place in this far-famed gold region. With the exception of a 320-oz. nugget no large discoveries have been made. Several new rushes have taken place, but have not turned out of any account. Our local paper, the Alpine Pioneer, copies of which I have occasionally sent you, asserts these are the most extensive goldfields yet discovered. There is no doubt but that there is a large tract of auriferous country here. Gold is to be found everywhere, but not in payable quantities. No payable ground having been discovered, the miners are compelled to work in the old ground in order to procure a living. Some of it is now being worked for the third time, and paying as well as it did when first opened, clearly showing the careless manner in which it was worked. A quartz reef has been struck on Surface Hill, but of no account. Several parties have commenced deep sinking, varying from 20 to 40 feet, but are just getting wages.
“The weather for the last month has been very unfavourable to the miners. On Sunday morning we had a very severe hailstorm, accompanied by thunder and lightning. A party of nine who started from here to visit the Four Mile diggings, were overtaken by the storm, and took shelter under some trees; four were killed on the spot, and the others knocked down by lightning, but are slowly recovering. The population is daily increasing, but numbers return within a week of their arrival, being utterly disgusted with the place (Victorians especially).
“The township of Kiandra is daily improving, good substantial buildings being erected in all directions. Business, I am sorry to say, is rather dull. However, we may expect the rush here very soon now, then we shall have our hands full. For my own part I don’t expect to see more than ten thousand persons here at any one time.
“I have no doubt you will think this a gloomy account; but I can assure you it is a correct one.
“I should be sorry to advise any of my Victorian friends to come here—that is to say, the mining portion of the community. Storekeepers stand a very good chance; they (and the publicans) will be the ones to make money out of the Kiandra rush.”
[My surmise turned out correct, and by the end of the year the majority of the miners had left for Lambing Flat.]
1st January, 1861.—Great day at Kiandra. Horse races, which were well attended. The racecourse was a few miles out of town, and not a particularly good one, there being rather a short run round, and a rise at the “run home.” However, it answered the purpose.
Those present seemed satisfied, and not a few were on the “beer.” My brother, J. A. Preshaw, who was in his glory, rode in the first race, and although he did not come in first, was declared the winner, inasmuch as the “jock” who rode the winning horse jostled him.
The “boys” were there in full force, and as the day advanced the rowdier they became. In one of the races they had a favourite horse; the favourite in the race was ridden by Charles Cowper, jun., son of the Premier of New South Wales. At the last round Mr. Cowper was some distance ahead, and, barring an accident, was sure of the race, when “Mick” B. (a sort of king among the “boys”), who happened to be on horeback, rode right across the winning horse, at this time only a few yards from the winning post, and, coming into collision, over they went. Fortunately, neither of the riders was hurt; the horses, too, escaped without injury. It was a miracle someone was not killed. The boys, however, won their point, their horse coming in first, was declared the winner. Whether the decision of the stewards in this case was a fair one I cannot say, not being a “racing man.” However, under the circumstances, I think they acted wisely in deciding as they did, for had it been otherwise, there would have been some damage done.
In another race the boys entered a horse which had no chance whatever. In this case they tried to intimidate the owner of the favourite in the race, and finding they could not persuade him to withdraw, threatened to break his horse’s knees, which threat they would have carried into effect had it not been for Mick B., who settled the matter somehow. Until Mick B. put in an appearance the “boys” were jumping about; some of them armed with heavy rails, which they got by pulling down a post-and-rail fence. The favourite was allowed to run, and won the race. I rode home with Tom Horton, agent for the Oriental Bank. As we were leaving the course we saw a crowd, and some poor unfortunate struggling in the midst—some one we knew. The “boys” were at him. Horton jumped off his horse, forced his way into the crowd, collared the man and dragged him away from them. Horton was a great favourite with the “boys,” who, to tell the truth, were frightened of him; he was a tall, wiry, muscular Christian, and could take his own part. I saw him on three occasions use his fives, and each time he came off victorious. As an instance of his manliness, one day four or five of the “boys” set on one Englishman, gave him not only a beating. but a kicking. Horton witnessed the whole affair, and determined to take the first opportunity of paying them off, which he did in this wise:—One of their number was passing the bank, when Horton went to him and said, “Look here, on Sunday last I saw a mob of you fellows on one man; now I want to take it out of you, or you shall out of me, so hold up your hands.” The fellow denied that he was in the crowd; however, Horton knew better, and finding he would not fight, gave him a tremendous thrashing.
21st March.—“Tom the Bellman” went round the town to-day announcing that “Mr. Business had strayed away, and that twenty pounds would be given by any of the storekeepers for his recovery.”
We had our celebrities in our little town. “Tom the Bellman”; “Yackandandah May,” a drunken old woman, well known on the diggings in Victoria and New South Wales; the “Singleton Chicken” and the “Tumut Bruiser,” two of the leading townsmen, nicknamed as above, through having a fight in which neither of the combatants distinguished himself; “Old Hoss” (Carmichael), landlord of the Empire Hotel, a really good, jolly fellow, with any amount of fun in him; M‘Donough, a bush lawyer; and several others, those named above being the principal.
For the first few months, in fact until we got into our new quarters, we spent our evenings in card playing, drinking, and smoking; this was about the style of thing. Mollarde, the landlord, would ring the bell for the waiter, on whose appearance he would say, “Gentlemen, I am just going to have some whisky hot, and shall be glad if you will join me; Isaac, take these gentlemen’s orders.” Some would order one thing, and some another; hot drinks were the general thing. This over, a game of cards would be proposed. As a rule, we played for drinks “for the good of the house,” the losers paying for all hands. No sooner was one game finished than another was started, so that in the course of an evening perhaps half-a-dozen games would be played, which meant half-a-dozen nobblers for each man. Six say in the room, and there were seldom a less number, would be 36s. for the landlord; it did not matter whether you drank your liquor or not, at the end of each game your nobbler would be brought in and paid for. A refusal to drink when asked by a digger was looked upon as an insult, consequently one oftentimes had to drink when he had not the slightest inclination; in fact you could not meet a friend, or go anywhere, but the first thing was, “Let’s have a drink.” I was ordered to Lambing Flat on the 2nd July, for which place I started on the 8th idem. I was fourteen months at Kiandra, during which time I saw more low life than I ever saw before, or have seen since. Up to the time I left Castlemaine I may say I had not left my mother’s apron strings, and to be transferred to a place like Kiandra was a change indeed.
Talking as one who has had a long experience (thirty years) on the goldfields, I consider it a great mistake for any bank to send a lad to a new rush, where everything is rough, and one must necessarily mix with all classes, and in all sorts of places. If a young man is inclined to be fast, there is everything at a new rush to encourage him in his downward career—bad companions, publichouses, billiard saloons, &c.; in fact everything that is debasing and low. The following extract is from the Australasian Insurance and Banking Record of date March, 1877, and is quite in accord with my own views:—
“A large proportion of the bank work is here performed by men very young, as compared with British bank clerks. They have not, generally speaking, undergone so long a probation; they have not lived through so many temptations; there are fewer grey heads amongst them. The middle-aged man generally, probably married, is exposed to fewer temptations than the bachelor without domestic resources in his hours of leisure; and these leisure hours suggest the consequences laid down in Dr. Watts’ hymn. We can quite imagine that the evenings of a young banker at some of the outposts of Australian civilisation must be a difficulty. Society of the proper kind there may be none. The chances are in favour of his gravitating to the billiardroom, which is of course at a tavern. He may be moderate in his play, and temperate in his drinking, but a life of this kind engenders loose habits. It may be asked why young unmarried men are selected for these appointments. The answer is that in a comparatively unsettled community the married manager or accountant is not so transferable a commodity as the young fellow with no impedimenta in the shape of wife and children. In the one case there is only a portmanteau to pack; in the other, there are numerous considerations of bank residence, cost of removal, realisation of furniture, &c., all adding to the difficulty of settling an officer to his own satisfaction. And there can be no doubt that an officer dissatisfied with his position is not in the proper frame of mind for doing his best for his employers. In instituting a contrast between bank officials married and unmarried, we do not mean to say that the former do not succumb, but that they are subject to fewer temptations of a dangerous kind.”
