Although the part of the country in which our mines are situated is almost unequalled for salubrity, yet the miners as a class are not of robust health: most of them look pale and haggard. The work underground, excessive toil, discomforts, and neglects, too often bring on disease. Singularly enough, accidents seldom occur. Cramps, colds, rheumatism, bad eyes, diarrhœa and dysentery are the prevalent complaints. The sitting on the damp ground induces piles. Most attacks of sickness resolve themselves into fevers of the low typhoid type, as the powers of life are soon exhausted there, and medical men have but few appliances. A great mistake arises from persons delaying a visit to the doctor. In many cases recovery is hopeless, from long continued neglect. Some will be for six or eight weeks under dysenteric attack before seeking relief. Then, too often, though they offer all their gold, no aid can be rendered. The doctor’s fee is usually ten shillings at his tent, a pound for a visit near, and two or five pounds elsewhere, according to distance. When a medical man is consulted in time, he may often see it right to send his patient at once to town, as from experience he knows the difficulty of providing proper nourishment and attendance during the period of convalescence. Yet instances are not unknown, nay, they are common, of kindness and christian charity towards the sick, even from strangers. An old man, that from ill health was unable to join a party, was tended by some neighbours for three weeks, who not only paid all expenses of such sickness besides, but actually gave £20 to get the poor creature conveyed to an hospital. If the diggings are so unpleasant a place for ordinary attacks of illness, it may be supposed that they are not the most comfortable home for a new mother. Yet on some occasions neither doctor nor nurse has been present. Deaths at the mines are by no means so frequent as may be imagined. At the Loddon cemetery I saw but eleven graves, four of which were unenclosed; no memorial appeared over any mound.
My friend and mate at the diggings, R. T. Tracy, Esq., M.D., has favoured me with a few hints which he thinks may be of service to his old friends at the mines. He desires to enforce upon their attention the necessity of regarding their mode of living; as, carelessness in preparing meals, lying on the ground, not guarding against night chills, neglect of damp clothes, and want of variety in articles of diet, are the fruitful sources of disease. He would recommend them to get potatoes, beef, onions, preserved fish and things called luxuries as often as they can. A filter in the dry season is invaluable; as bad water produces dysentery. In attacks of diarrhœa and dysentery, much mischief is done by persisting in the use of soda-damper and fat mutton; broths, arrowroot and leavened bread ought then only to be taken. Dr. Tracy would, also, recommend that a store at the diggings be allowed to sell port wine for strictly medicinal purposes, upon orders from medical men, as at present the sick can only obtain this stimulant by sanctioning the sly grog shops, at which, too, a bad article is sold at an exorbitant price.
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.