MORAL STATE OF THE DIGGINGS.
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.