A VISIT TO THE NORTHERN GOLD FIELDS.
FROM OUR SPECIAL REPORTER.
No. 16.
As we approach that portion of the eastern slopes of the main range in the Vicinity of
Armidale, the surface of the declining country, where the trappean crust has been
removed by disintegration and decomposition, presents such auriferous indications
-- particularly in the neighbourhood of Mount Duval and the Devil’s Pinch -- as
render it a matter of surprise that payable ground has not been yet discovered by
some of the gold-seekers in the district. The coarse red gravel and conglomerates,
resting upon the porphyritic and metamorphosed rocks immediately above the
granites, are chiefly derived from the gold-bearing formations; quartz reefs and veins
still exist on many of the ridges, together with belts of a conglomerate, composed
entirely of small quartz pebbles, cemented by the lime and iron set at liberty by the
destruction of the superstrata of volcanic origin. A little gold can be obtained almost
anywhere by washing the detritus found in the channels of the small mountain
streams, and quartz pebbles have been found from time to time in the red gravel
containing a sufficient quantity of gold (in some instances two or three
pennyweights) to give evidence of the former existence of gold-bearing reefs in the
locality. It appears that the precious metal is universally distributed amidst these
oceanic accumulations, perhaps in small quantities; but there is a probability that
when the advancement of science enables us to trace the course of the ancient
ocean currents that have swept over this region, and when we have learned how to
obtain all the gold contained in the auriferous drift with which so large a portion of the
country is covered, that the hills surrounding Armidale will prove a permanent source
of' wealth.
The miners of New South Wales with their present crude appliances, their waste of
labour, and their want of co-operation cannot yet say that they have exhausted a
single gold-field. There can be no better proof of this than that no matter how often
auriferous ground has been worked over it always yields something; and that the
second working is often more productive than the first. Some portions of the Turon,
the Meroo, and the Rocky River have been occupied by successive parties, and
turned over by them at least once in every year since the discovery of gold in the
colony by Hargraves, and still they yield bread to the workers. A consideration of
the foregoing fact will lead to the inference that a large extent of country now
pronounced to be auriferous, but not payable, would prove to be highly
remunerative under an unproved system of mining, embracing more extensive
operations, a greater economy of labour, the introduction of machinery, and a
perfect method of reducing the sulphurets and amalgamating the gold contained
either in the matrix, the auriferous drift, the oceanic accumulations, or fluvistile
deposits, with mercury. In Europe the man of science exhausts his lore, and the
mechanic his skill, in economising the cost, and perfecting the production of the most
insignificant article in daily use, while with us of New South Wales, a branch of
industry which is now only second in importance to the pastoral interest, and on the
success of which the Minister of Finance has declared that he in some decree
depends for his being able to make up the alarming deficiency in the public revenue,
is permitted to languish under a cloud of ignorance which we make no effort to
dispel. The invaluable geological reports of the Rev. W. B. Clarke, which would be of
so much importance to the prospector for minerals, have never been published in a
popular form; neither have any correct maps of the mining districts seen the
light, although much of the work necessary to complete them is lying like useless
lumber in the office of the Surveyor-General. It would seem as if our design had
been to keep the people of New South Wales, in as much ignorance as possible of
all matters that improve their knowledge of the country they inhabit, and enable them
to appreciate its capabilities. Many of the working classes, including a number of the
small settlers, are oven ignorant of the name of the county that they reside in, or of
the stream upon which they are located.
But while, contrary to the practice of the neighbouring colonies, we have contributed
so little towards the elevation of the character of the gold-digger and made no effort
to place the means of intellectual and professional improvement within his reach, we
have neither omitted to impose a specific tax upon the produce of his industry, nor
scrupled to permit him to be assailed by the most dangerous species of temptation
that could be devised, by conniving at those dens of profligacy and vice, which are a
disgrace to our gold-fields, and which, although they may assist in swelling
the public revenue, tend more than all else to degrade the mining population, and
induce habits of extravagance and intemperance.
If, therefore, our gold miners, as a class, are deficient in those scientific
acquirements so essential to their vocation-if too many of them are thriftless
and wasteful of their substance, and if we are behind others in the development of
the wealth of our mineral lands, and in the introduction of mechanical
aids on our gold-fields, we have nothing to blame but the repressive policy we have
pursued with respect to this branch of industry.
And now let us make the best of our way to the township. We are in the valley of the
Tilbuster, at present unbroken, but soon to be sprinkled with white tents, and its
silence to be broken by the noise and turmoil of a diggers' encampment. As
we saunter along, we pass a shepherd with his flock on the margin of the stream,
and his dog watches us suspiciously, ever and anon turning to his master
for instructions, and evidently anxious for war, which he has half made up his mind to
declare on his own private account ; and now we have passed the pad- docks, and
cultivation, and reached the head station, with its pretty shingled cottage, nestling in
a thick grove of exotics, and reposing under the shadow of Mount Duval; further still,
and we are again in the primeval forest, and follow the windings of the southern
road, round ridges, downslopes, and across hills; now covered with ragged scrub,
and then with rich grass and open timber. As we advanced frequent openings
and nests of stumps and barked trees, and piles of refuse, left by the splitter, indicate
the vicinity of the town, when, turning an angle in the road, the scene changes, 'and
a wide undulating plain appears, stretching east and west, until it becomes lost
behind protruding spurs from the high lands. In the centre a tortuous stream sparkles
and dances in the sunlight, as it rolls onwards towards the falls of the Macleay. On
either side are lulls swelling to the summits of the ranges, and down their gentle
slopes, the mountain forest, with its rich hues of brown, and purple, and green, and
gold, creeps from the blue sky to meet the fresh green fields that stretch upwards
from the margin of the stream, now deepening under the shade of a passing cloud,
and now flashing like a bunch of emeralds in a flood of light; cattle are grazing on the
plains, or gathered under the shade of a clump of trees. Long lines of fences stretch
across the flats, or climb up the ridges, and the monotony of verdure is broken by
square blocks of newly-ploughed land, or patches of cultivation, while here and
there, in the distance, a cluster of brown roofs may be seen peeping through the
dense foliage of an orchard, or isolated white-walled homesteads, each
springing from a nest of flowering shrubs, dotting the sides of the highways, and
crowding nearer and nearer to each other as they approach the town.
And now the bridge is crossed, and we have ex- changed the solitude of the forest
for the bustle and cheerfulness, and life of a thriving town, struggling for existence in
the wilderness. Youth and energy is stamped upon every thing. There is plenty of
room for filling up. Little mobs of houses are jostling each other for the corners, but
they are generally scattered along the line of road, far apart, with an utter disregard
of all architectural rules, and an independence ot design that is quite refreshing. One
man is satisfied with a slab hut; his neighbour aspires to a weatherboard cottage,
while a third will be satisfied with nothing less than a brick edifice, French lights, a
brass knocker, and a white paling. You may read the history of the town and its rise
and progress in that collection of barn-looking buildings erected at various times as
they were required, and used collectively as a store by one who
commenced business under a sheet of bark when a few shepherds, now and again,
found the track to the solitary bush public-house to liquify a cheque. The largest shed
was erected when the Rocky River and Mount Jones were in their glory, and the
shepherd had turned digger. In this new world of ours, there is none of that piling,
and squeezing and crowding of houses on every available spot, that characterises
old cities in old lands-none of those mouldering walls, latticed windows, arched
doors, and massive portals in nooks and corners, memorials of past
generations, that have survived the memory of the builders. We have no crumbling
monuments of former greatness to mourn over; our mountain fastnesses derive no
interest from ruined castles -- those mute records of violent deeds and rapine, and
war, and bloodshed, that proclaim by what tenure the people's lands were held and
how freedom was lost and won. All that surrounds us has been conquered from the
wilderness in our own times, and by our own hands, our victories have been
bloodless -- they have made no widows and orphans -- engendered no regrets --
and our dreams are of future empire, to be achieved, not by the sword, but by
the indomitable industry and energy of our race.
On us -- us Australians of 1860 -- depends the solution of the momentous
question, whether our posterity are to be serfs or freemen; or whether we sow the
seeds of civil disorders and convulsions, to be reaped by our children. If, in the
disposal of the public lands, blind to the advanced experience of the times, we
engraft that relic of the barbarism of the middle ages of Europe upon our country
-- a great landed aristocracy -- then farewell freedom, but if we only alienate the
soil in such quantities as may be necessary for the sup-port and employment of the
people, and jealously pre- serve the fee-simple of the remainder until such time as
an increase of the population renders the sale necessary; then are we true to our
trust, and then is the freedom of our descendants perpetuated.
The full value cannot be obtained for one acre of land more than we have labour to
bring into profit- able cultivation. In fact, what the value of lands m the interior will
be one hundred years hence could hardly be estimated. It therefore appears to be
more equitable to lease tracts of land for pastoral purposes for twenty-five, fifty, or
even seventy-five years, than to sell them in any large quantity at such a price
as they would realise at the present period.
Again, our experience of the effect that has been produced upon the colony by the
extensive tracts of land that have been already alienated, ought to be duly
considered in all future legislation on the subject. These properties, where they are
unoccupied and unimproved, have increased the difficulties of internal
communication, by lengthening the distance between the rural settlements, and
rendering the roads more costly. They have, moreover, obstructed education, and
enhanced the cost of the administration of justice, and police protection. Add to
this the experience of Canada, where the clergy reserves were found to retard rural
settlement so much as to render it necessary to throw them open for occupation
The pioneers of a district endure many hardships, and much toil and privation, in
their early battles with the wilderness. As the necessity for this endurance
disappears, as roads are made, markets established, and the requirements of
civilisation provided for through the industry of these settlers, the surrounding lands
acquire an increased worth, it is therefore only just that they should bear a fair
share of the cost of their improved value. It has been urged that it is impolitic to
restrict the investment of capital, but it is still more impolitic to permit its operations to
repress the energies of a whole people, and retard the settlement of a new country.
We have lingered too long on this subject, and will now take another look at the town
it is Court day, the nearest approach we yet make to the market days of the old
world; there is a little crowd in front of the court-house discussing some interesting
horse case, which, strange to say, has resolved itself into a question of politics and
party; at the corner of the street is a burly auctioneer, who is endeavouring to draw
the attention of the loungers round the door of the inn to a mob of bush colts for
which he desires to find purchasers.
Listen to the eloquence with which he descants upon their breed, and their fine
proportions. Unfortunately for him there is not one person present who does
not know more about the animals than he does himself. Busy people are passing to
and fro, two or three filthy aborigines-all that remain of a once numerous tribe-are
hanging round the doors of a public-house, carts laden with wheat are clustered
round the mills, and there is a digger's tilted cart drawn up opposite a store; the
owner is laying in supplies for the road -- he is off for the Snowy, wife and children,
and all his worldly gear. Such a heterogeneous collection of odd and ends as that
cart contains-beds and buckets, frying pans and tin billies, quarts and pints; dishes,
picks and shovels, and such mares as he has harnessed to it, each with its increase
for three or four years, this homeless mob of women, children, mares, and foals,
have evidently no great love for the township ; they want to be off again into the
forest, and seem to be uncomfortable even in the presence of civilisation -- its
restraints are irksome. You would know a digger's turn-out anywhere -- it has such
a gipsyish look about it. And there, at the door of the principal inn, stands a family
drag, with its freight of women and children also, drawn by prancing steeds; they are
on their way from the capital to their station in the far interior. How different are the
circumstances of these families; and yet happiness may not be so un-equally divided
amongst them. And here another conveyance has just arrived, battered and
weather beaten like a ship from a long voyage; the horses seem jaded and leg-
weary, and the broken shafts are bound with strips of raw hide, that never-failing
resource of the bushman in his difficulties on the road; and now there is a sound of
joyous voices, a troop of rosy urchins have just broke loose from school, the bigger
boys stop to criticise the horses and the respective turn- outs, while some of the
smaller children peep timidly round a corner at the young diggers who return
their gaze with something of defiance in their looks. Everywhere you turn your eyes
you meet youth, and energy, and progress.
Armidale dates from 1839, and may be said to have been founded by Commissioner
Macdonald, who commenced building a large house on Star's Hill, which he was not
destined to complete. The town, although well situated in the centre of a thickly-
settled squatting district, advanced but slowly until the opening of the Rocky River
gold-fields, when it rapidly rose to a position of considerable importance, which
its agricultural lands ought to enable it to retain. The rich plains on either side of the
town are under a high state of cultivation for a few miles. There are also many fine
farms to the eastward on the tributaries of the Upper Macleay, and also at Kelly's
Plains in the direction of Uralla. The production of cereals for which the neighbouring
country is so eminently fitted is said to be rather in excess of the consumption of the
district, and I was informed that there was no difficulty in obtaining farm allotments or
portions by those who desired to purchase lands in the vicinity. The townspeople
have been happy in the selection of their sites for public buildings, which include
some very neat brick edifices, amongst which may be named the new court-
house, nearly completed, the gaol or, lock-up, an hospital, and a Church of England,
a Presbyterian place of worship, and a Roman Catholic chapel. There are also two
extensive flour mills, and branch of the Joint Stock Bank. Neither has education been
neglected, as although there is no National schools, there are two establishments
under the Denominational Board-one under the control of the minister of the Church
of England, and the other under that of the Roman Catholic clergyman. There is also
a highly respectable private academy, and a school of arts well furnished with
the periodicals of the day. The commercial interests of the township are represented
by about ten stores, some of which are heavily stocked. There are also a similar
number of inns, or public-houses, a few of which are second to none in the country
districts, and there is no dearth of either ministers of religion, of members of the
medical and legal profession,-with an ably conducted newspaper, and two lawyers to
keep things alive, it is not to be wondered at that political strife sometimes runs high,
and that Armidale is occasionally visited by those storms, so peculiar to mountain
regions, which revolve round their own centre, contracted in their sphere, but violent
in their action. Although the further progress of this beautiful township may not be so
rapid as it has been, resulting from the difficulty of communication with the coast,
and the want of a more extensive outlet for agricultural produce, with its vast
natural resources and its superb climate, it is destined to attain a very high position
among the inland cities of Australia.
The population of the township is estimated between 900 and 1000. There are few
places I have been in where the Sabbath is more religiously observed. It was
pleasing to see whole families crowding to places of worship; the youth riding in from
long distances, and farmers' carts crowded with all ages, sizes, and sexes, coming
into town with the same object. Here, for one day in the week, vice cowered and
slunk into the wilderness.