As the mines are not now very interesting or attractive to intended emigrants, it is not necessary to enlarge further. It will be sufficient to say that when we broke up our partnership, my wife's brothers, being single men, had saved, I think, about £400 each, but I only had my share of the water right, which we also sold. My share was about £60. The whole of my earnings, therefore, had gone to bring up my large family. My money was invested in them, to be drawn upon some day, by God's blessing, with interest—and compound interest, too. Neighbors used to think they could command and use my boys as they liked. "No," I said, "you cannot draw upon my bank in this way; you must remunerate them for their services."
About this time, the Government were beginning to sell the country lands in the district. My brothers went with their savings and purchased land some thirty miles from the diggings, and started farming—an occupation they had been used to in the "Old Country." I continued working on the diggings with the boys for some time longer, sinking and driving for "a patch" I thought should exist from the formation and dip of the ground—but failed. A short time after, though, a party went down one of my shafts, and only drove a few feet and struck what I had been looking for so long. I believe it was about £90 worth. This is a very common fate on the diggings. The largest nugget ever got in Australia was found in an old drive only two or three inches under the bottom. The original occupiers had actually driven over and knelt over it, but the mass of gold, being so heavy, had sunk into the pipe-clay, below the ordinary run of wash-dirt. I could tell of many curious incidents of the sort. After this I and the boys worked a puddling machine; some of them were able to do a fine day's work now. We only just made a living, though, and had to keep the horse; feed, also, was very expensive. I can remember hay being worth £50 per ton, and that only bush hay; of course, it was only then used for the Government—for police and gold escort horses. By this time (1865), these old diggings were nearly worn out.
About this time (1865) the Government passed a new Land Act, opening the lands of the colony for free selection, and deferred payment at £1 per acre, payable in half-yearly payments of one shilling per acre, without interest; certain improvements to be effected in residence, fencing, clearing, cultivation, etc., enforced. Of this liberal Land Act I thought I would avail myself. I could select up to 320 acres; but that was beyond my means. At the next sitting of the Land Board I selected 128 acres—the most suitable to my capital. A river-side lot. Of this, 30 acres were river flat, not suitable for cultivation, being subject to floods; 35 acres only were fit for cultivation, the other portion being inferior, crab-holey, grass land. I said above, this was most suitable to my capital. Upon selecting, I had only just cash sufficient to pay the first deposit, as the first half-year's rent, viz., £6 8s. Little enough, it will be said, after 10 years' hard labor in the colony. But, remember, labor is equivalent to capital, and I was backed with that banking account named before, viz., my seven good boys.
Now, striking out my digger's experience, I will dwell a little. It may be asked, Why did I put upon the title page of this "Life Sketch," "How £6 8s. became £8000?" Why did I not start with the 10s. I landed with? It is this. My object in writing at all is to induce others, under similar circumstances and conditions, to settle upon the land; therefore, I put down £6 8s., the amount I started farming with; or it may be seen further on that I might have put down £76 8s., but, the other £70 was only prospective, or hardly that at the time, as will be seen. Well, even this is no great sum, as many a laborer can earn that, or rather, can save that sum, in a little more than a year, at present wages; pick and shovel men getting 7s. to 8s. per day. Had I a large sum of money saved from mining, it might have been said—"Oh! with that amount of capital, anyone ought to succeed."
So myself and two eldest sons started to make a home on the land. At this time I had one son, the third, aged about 16, living upon a station with squatters, not far from where we selected. He was getting small wages, but at the same time he was getting good experience with cattle, &c., and his masters were gentlemen of high character, and for whom I have the greatest respect. The two who joined me were now able to do a good hard day's work, and they had to do it, too. So we started at once. I left the wife and the smallest of the children (seven of them, one other son being at a dairy some few miles off) for a time, at the home on the diggings, and registered our claim for a few months to prevent anyone "jumping" it.
We put up residence No. 1 on the farm, composed of two side logs, and sheets of bark for top. We got a party to plough about an acre ready for potatoes and vegetables, and then started into the bush, about six miles off, to split fencing stuff; living under a few sheets of bark, for about two months. While there, I wrote a letter to my good mother in dear old England, and just in fun, headed it, "Splitters' Hall." This was taken in earnest, and I received a letter in due course, addressed to "Splitters' Hall." This gave us much amusement. Having got our stuff split, a difficulty arose. How to get it out of the bush! We must either give our labor to some farmer for a time for fetching it out for us, or return to the claim, and try for a few pounds, as we only had one old horse we used in the puddling machine, and no dray. We determined, therefore, to go and wash a few machines of stuff on the claim. I took one of the boys with me, and, to our agreeable surprise and astonishment, we washed out £70 worth of gold (alluded to before at page 18) in one week. The only "patch" we ever got, and for which I trust we were thankful enough; and grand indeed did it look as we washed it off, and it followed the sluicing fork in the clean water in washing down the boxes. But it was only just a "patch," and ran out the next day. We call it our "Providential patch." On coming from the bank, where I sold it, my pocket felt nicer than I ever recollected (except upon one other occasion), and we all felt quite jubilant!
This other occasion I will insert here, although it should have been in the sketch of my "Artist Experience." This is an occasion which I shall always remember with pleasure and gratitude to the individual who interested himself so kindly in my interest. I went into Norfolk professionally, portrait painting, drawn on this occasion in that direction by the attractions of a certain individual whose acquaintance I had formed in London. The Bishop of London, who was always my friend, and always kindly gave me letters of introduction, gave me one to the Bishop of Norwich (Bishop Stanley), the father of the late honoured Dean Stanley, of Westminster. He kindly introduced me to the Mayor of Norwich, Mr. Freeman, as the best way to introduce my profession. The first portrait I painted there was the Mayor's, in his robes of office. He also kindly took charge of some paintings of fancy subjects I took with me, to show to his friends. After painting for some time in various parts of the country, in the meantime I got married, and this act, I suppose, under the circumstances, would be considered (and what is generally called) "improvident" and "imprudent," as I had no settled home of my own. It then became imperative that I got one. My wife's home was about 22 miles from Norwich, and, as I always was a great pedestrian, which I have mentioned before, I started off one fine morning early to Norwich, to see my good friend, the Mayor, and inform him of my position, and see what could be done with the paintings he had charge of. We were dining together when I broached the subject. He said my pictures had been much admired, and he thought several of his fellow citizens would like to purchase them. He at once then, at the table, wrote a note stating my intention of leaving for London, and would they make me an offer for one or more of my pictures. An answer was soon back, but the answer and offer was not satisfactory to him. "No," he said, "he shan't have it for that;" sent a note to another, and thus this novel auction went on until he got rid of several of my pictures, and, as the term is, "at satisfactory prices," and before the evening I had the money in my pocket (between £66 and £70), and, indeed, it felt warm, as my heart also did, with gratitude. On starting back the same evening, how I "lift my feet!" Like Jacob of old, after his dream and receiving the blessing. (Read from Gen. 10th v. xxviii ch. to 1st v. xxix ch.). It says—"He went on his journey;" but the Heb. in the margin is far more expressive to one who has gone through a somewhat similar experience. It there says—"He lift up his feet." Light of heart, light of heel. I well remember the son of the Mayor, a fine young fellow, about my own age, accompanying me for a few miles on my journey back, conversing by the way (as christians love to do) of God's good providence and love; and who knows but what there was a third person in spirit with us, as He was in person with the "two disciples on the road that evening journeying to Emmaus?" But it could not be said of us that "we were sad," as they were. They were sad because the "Comforter" had not then come, but we were in full enjoyment of that "Comforter." And they, also, when the Saviour revealed Himself, had "burning hearts of love;" and did not our hearts burn with love also? On our parting, with a good-bye and a hearty and friendly grip, I shall never forget his kindly words. They were these—"Remember how sweet is the day of prosperity to those who have tasted adversity's cup." And thus we parted on that memorable day and evening on the Norwich high road.
I hardly felt the remainder of my long walk. It was rather late in the evening (or rather night) when I reached home, and, upon entering, threw the proceeds of my trip into my young wife's lap. Our feelings may be imagined.