Lost Lenore: The Adventures of a Rolling Stone

Volume Three – Chapter Thirteen.

Buried Alive

From Ballarat, I went to the great rush at Mount Blackwood; and pitched my tent on a part of that gold-field, known as the “Red Hill.”

Mount Blackwood was more heavily and thickly timbered, than any other of the Victorian gold-fields. The surface of the ground was very uneven; and the soil on the rocks of but little depth. It was difficult to find a horizontal space, of sufficient size, for the pitching of an ordinary miner’s tent; and to see such stupendous trees growing on the steep hill-sides, with scarce soil enough to cover their roots, was matter of surprise to everybody who came to Mount Blackwood.

About three weeks after the rush had commenced – and after several thousand people had gathered there – we were visited one night by a terrific gale, or more properly speaking, a “hurricane.”

Hundreds of large trees – which owing to the shallow soil, could not take deep root in the rock underneath – were blown down.

The night was very dark; and no one could see from what side a tree might at any moment come crashing. A space of ground, out of reach of the fallen trunks, was not to be found on the gold-field. The consequence was, that thirteen people were killed for certain; and many more severely injured, all through the falling of the trees.

But the number of fatal accidents, caused by the hurricane of that night, was probably never known.

The night was one of horror and fear to more than eight thousand people – each of whom knew not the minute that death might be his portion. A miner and his wife, while endeavouring to escape to a place of safety, were crushed under the same tree. Had they remained in their tent, they would have escaped uninjured! But what was still more singular in this unfortunate incident; the woman, when struck by the tree, was carrying a child, which received not the slightest injury, while both the parents were killed on the spot!

The day after the storm, Mount Blackwood presented a very forlorn appearance. Hundreds of trees had been prostrated by the wind; and nearly every tent had been thrown down.

Ever since that night, I can understand the fear, that some sailors entertain, of a storm upon land.

I had very little success in gold digging at Mount Blackwood; but while there, an incident occurred that was interesting to me; so much so, as to be deserving of a place among these my adventures.

I expect to die some time; but fervently hope and pray, that my existence may not be terminated by suffocation– either by means of a rope, or otherwise. I profess to have a horror of that mode of death: for the simple reason that I have made trial of it, and found the sensation anything but pleasant.

While at Mount Blackwood, I worked a claim in company with three others.

I was taken into this partnership, by a man I had known at Ballarat. He went by the name of “Yorkey” – from his being a Yorkshireman – and was the only one of the “firm” with whom I formed much acquaintance.

I was at work in a tunnel of the claim, where we had not used sufficient caution in supporting the top of the tunnel with timber.

Although the shaft was not a wide one, the earth being a little damp, and composed of loose shingle, required propping up. As I had neglected this, about a cart load of the shingle fell down, burying me completely under it.

The weight upon my limbs was so great, that I could not move them; and I lay as if I had been chained to the spot.

At the time, two of my mining partners were also below, working in another part of the tunnel. Of course they heard the little earthquake, and came to my assistance.

The task of digging me out, proved more difficult than they expected: for there was not room for both my mates to work at the same time – besides, they could not handle either pick or shovel to any great effect, lest they might injure my limbs.

We had been called up for dinner; and I was on the point of climbing out of the tunnel, just at the moment the earth fell in.

Our mates above, had grown impatient at our delay; and commenced shouting for us to come up. I heard one of those below responding to them. I could not understand what he said; but afterwards learnt, that he was merely telling them what had happened.

Never shall I forget the strange sound of that man’s voice. I suppose, for the reason that I was buried in the earth, it seemed unearthly. I could form no idea of the distance the speaker was from me. His voice seemed to come from some place thousands of miles away – in fact from another world. I was sensible that some mischance had occurred – that I was buried alive, and in great agony; but the voice I heard seemed to proceed from the remotest part of an immense cavern in some planet, far down in the depths of space. It commanded me to come thither: and I thought I was preparing to obey that command, by ceasing to live; but the necessary preparation for another existence appeared to require a long time in being completed.

In my struggles for respiration, I fancied that stones and earth were passing through my lungs; and hours, days and weeks seemed to be spent in this sort of agony. It was real agony – so real as not to beget insensibility. On the contrary, my consciousness of existence remained both clear and active.

I wondered why I did not die of starvation; and tried to discover if there was any principle in nature that would enable a person, when buried alive, to resist the demands of hunger and live for ever without food. It seemed impossible for me to die. One vast world appeared to be compressing me against another; but they could not both crush out the agony of my existence.

At length the thought occurred to me that I was dead; and that in another world I was undergoing punishment for crimes committed in that I had left.

“What have I ever done,” thought I, “that this horrible torture should be inflicted on me?”

Every link in memory’s chain was presented to my mental examination, and minutely examined.

They were all perfect to my view; but none of them seemed connected with any act in the past, that should have consigned me to the torture I was suffering.

My agony at last produced its effect; and I was released from it. I gradually became unconscious, or nearly so. There was still a sensation of pain – of something indescribably wrong; but the keen sensibility of it, both mental and bodily, had now passed away. This semi-unconscious state did not seem the result of the accident that had befallen me. I thought it had arisen from long years of mental care and bodily suffering; and was the involuntary repose of a spirit exhausted by sheer contention, with all the ills that men may endure upon earth. Then I felt myself transferred from this state to another quite different – one of true physical pain, intense and excruciating, though it no longer resembled the indescribable horror I had experienced, while trying to inhale the rocks that were crushing the life out of me.

My head was now uncovered; and I was breathing fast and freely.

Though in great pain, I was now conscious of all that was transpiring.

I could hear the voice of ‘Yorkey,’ speaking in his native Yorkshire dialect, and encouraging me with the statement that I would soon be out of danger.

Notwithstanding the pain I still suffered, I was happy – I believe never more so in my life. The horrible agony I had been enduring for the want of breath had passed away; and, as I recognised the voice of the kind-hearted Yorkshireman, I knew that everything would be done for me that man could do.

I was not mistaken: for ‘Yorkey’ soon after succeeded in getting my arms and legs extracted from the shingle; and I was hoisted up to the surface of the earth.

Previous to this accident, I had but a faint idea of how much I valued life, or rather how much I had hitherto undervalued the endurance of death.

My sufferings, whilst buried in the tunnel, were almost as great as those I had felt on first learning the loss of Lenore!

This accident had the effect of sadly disgusting me with the romantic occupation of gold digging – at all events it made me weary of a digger’s life on Mount Blackwood – where the best claim I could discover, paid but very little more than the expenses incurred in working it.

I thought Mount Blackwood, for several reasons, the most disagreeable part of Victoria I had ever visited, excepting Geelong. I had a bad impression of the place on first reaching it; and working hard for several weeks, without making anything, did not do much towards removing that impression. I determined, therefore, to go back to Ballarat – not a little dissatisfied with myself for having left it. After my experience of the Avoca diggings, I had resolved to remain permanently at Ballarat – believing it to be the best gold-field in the Colony – but I had allowed false reports of the richness of Mount Blackwood to affect this resolution; and I was not without the consolation of knowing, that the misfortunes that befel me at the latter place were attributable to my own folly; in lending a too ready ear to idle exaggerations.

Volume Three – Chapter Fourteen.

The “Elephant” and His Mate

For several days after my “exhumation,” I was compelled to remain in my tent, an invalid.

When at length I became able to take the road, I started back for Ballarat, where I arrived after an arduous journey on foot, that lasted nearly three days.

On again becoming fairly settled on this far-famed gold-field, I purchased a share in a claim on the “Gravel-pits” lead.

This speculation proved fortunate: for the prospect turned out a good one. The gold I expected to obtain from my claim – added to what I had previously accumulated – promised to amount to a considerable sum. With this, I should have been willing to relinquish the hardships of a miner’s life, and follow some less laborious occupation.

When I thought of doing so, however, certain difficulties always presented themselves.

What should I do? What other profession could I follow? These were interrogatories, not easily answered.

Where I should go, after leaving the diggings, was a subject for profound consideration. For what reason should I go anywhere? What purpose had I to accomplish by going anywhere, or doing anything? While asking myself these questions, I thought of Jessie, though not with pleasure, for then within my mind would arise a temptation hard to resist.

Unable to shape out any plan, I left it to circumstances; and toiled on from day to day, with no more interest in the future than the shovel I held in my hands!

How very different it appeared to be with the two young men, who were part owners of the claim, in which I had purchased a share!

Our “firm” was a large concern, owned by ten of us in all; and out of the number, there were but two who appeared to be toiling for an object. The majority of mankind think they are living and working for some purpose; but many of them are mistaken. They have some wishes, with a faint desire to see them fulfilled. But few there are who labour with that determined resolve that cannot be shaken, or set aside by the circumstances of the hour. Men do not often struggle with the determined spirit, that is ever certain to insure success.

The most superficial observer could not have failed to perceive, that the two young men I have mentioned were acting under the influence of some motive stronger than common.

The energy they displayed in their toil, the firmness they exhibited in resisting the many temptations set before them, their disregard of the past, their anxiety for the present, and confidence in the future – all told me that they were toiling for a purpose. They acted, as if they had never met with any serious disappointment in life; and as if they fully believed that Fortune’s smiles might be won by those who deserve them.

I knew they must be happy in this belief: for I once indulged in it myself. I could envy them, while hoping that, unlike me, the object for which they were exerting themselves might be accomplished. I had seen many young men – both in California and Australia – yielding to the temptations that beset them; and squandering the most valuable part of their lives in dissipation – scattering the very gold, in the accumulation of which they had already sacrificed both health and strength. It was a pleasure, therefore, to witness the behaviour of these two young miners, actuated by principles too pure and strong to be conquered by the follies that had ruined so many. For this reason, I could not help wishing them success; and I sincerely hoped that virtue, in their case, might meet with its reward.

Nearly everyone has some cause for self-gratification – some little revenue of happiness that makes him resigned to all ordinary conditions of life.

My two companions wished to acquire a certain sum of money, for a certain purpose. They had every reason to believe their wishes would be fulfilled; and were contented in their toil. Such was once the case with myself; but my circumstances had sadly changed. I had nothing to accomplish, nothing to hope for.

And yet this unfortunate state of existence was not without some reflections, that partially reconciled me to my fate. Others were toiling with hopes that might end in disappointment; and I was not. Apprehensions for the future that might trouble them, were no longer a source of anxiety to me!

One of the young men, whom I have thus ceremoniously introduced, was named Alexander Olliphant. He was better known amongst us as “the Elephant” – a distinction partly suggested by his name, and partly owing to his herculean strength. He was a native of the colonies – New South Wales – though he differed very much in personal appearance from the majority of the native-born inhabitants of that colony, who are generally of a slender make. “The Elephant” was about six feet in height, but of a stout build, and possessing great physical strength. Although born and brought up in New South Wales, his conversation proclaimed him familiar with most of the sights to be witnessed in London, Paris, and many others of the large cities of Europe. He appeared to have been well educated; and altogether there was a mystery about the man, that I could not comprehend. I did not try to fathom it. Men working together on the gold-fields are seldom inquisitive; and two mates will often associate, throughout the whole period of their partnership without either becoming acquainted with a single circumstance of the past life of the other – often, indeed, without even learning each other’s family names!

I was along with Edmund Lee – already mentioned in my narrative – for many months; and yet he never heard my name, until the hour of our parting in Callao – when we were entering into an arrangement to correspond with each other!

The second of the young men I have spoken about, was known to us simply as, “Sailor Bill.” He seldom had anything to say to anyone. We only knew, that he had been a sailor; and that he was to all appearance everything an honest fellow should be. He had worked with Olliphant for more than a year; and, although the two appeared to be on intimate terms of acquaintance – and actually were warm friends – neither knew anything of the private history of the other!

As soon as we should have completed our claim on the Gravel-pits lead, Olliphant and Bill had declared their intention of proceeding to Melbourne – to return to the diggings no more. They had been both fortunate, they said – having obtained the full amount for which they had been toiling, and something more.

They were going to realise those hopes and wishes, that had cheered and inspired them through the weary hours of their gold digging life.

They were both quite young. Perhaps they had parents in poverty, whom they were intending to relieve? Perhaps others might be waiting for their return, and would be made happy by it? The joy of anticipating such a happiness was once mine; and I could imagine the agreeable emotions that must have occupied the thoughts of my two companions – once my own – to be mine no more.

They were going to give up gold digging – with spirits light, and hopes bright, perhaps to enter upon some new and pleasanter sphere of action, while I could bethink me of nothing that would ever more restore my lost happiness. For me there was nothing but to continue the monotonous existence my comrades were so soon to forsake.

Volume Three – Chapter Fifteen.

A Dinner-Party of Diggers

Our claim was at length completed, and we – the shareholders – with some of our friends determined to hold a little jollification. We engaged a private room in the hotel, where we had divided our gold; and, after settling all accounts, we sat down to as good a dinner, as the landlord could place upon his table.

After dinner, our pipes were lit; and the only business before us, was to find some amusement for the rest of the evening.

“Rule Britannia,” “The Red, White, and Blue,” and “The Flag that braved a Thousand Years,” were sung, and duly applauded. The poet of the company then gave us a song of his own composing, which, whatever may have been its merits, met with the approval of the company.

As it was understood that “the Elephant” and “Bill” were going to give up gold digging for good, and were to start for Melbourne the next day, one of the party came out with a proposal, warmly seconded by the rest.

“Elephant,” said the person thus proposing, “now that you and Bill have made your fortunes, and are going to give up the business, suppose you tell us all what you intend doing with your money – so that, when we have made our fortune, we shall have your example to guide us in spending it?”

The individual who made this request, had once been a convict in Tasmania. He was rather a good-looking man, about forty-five years of age, and went by the name of Norton. The little bird called “rumour,” had chirupped about the diggings many tales of his former achievements in crime – all of which, however, seemed to have been forgotten.

The reader may ask, why those of our company, who professed to be respectable men, should associate with one who had manifestly been a transported felon?

The answer is, that we were in circumstances very different from those who might think of putting such a question. Ten or twelve men were required for working a mine on the Gravel-pits; and where nearly all the people of the place were strangers to each other, a man could not very well make choice of his companions, at least not all of them. Norton had bought a share in the claim from one of the first holders of it; and all that the rest of us could require of him, was, that he should perform his share of the work.

On such an occasion as that of dividing the gold, he had as much right to be one of the company, as any other shareholder.

“I will agree to what you propose, on one condition,” responded the Elephant, to the proposal of Norton; “and I have no doubt but that my friend, Bill, will do the same. But in order that you should understand what I intend doing in the future, it will be necessary that you should be told something of my past. This I am willing to make known, if you, Norton, will give us a true account of the principal events of your life; and Bill will probably gratify your curiosity on the same terms?”

“Oh certainly,” said Bill; “if Norton will give us his history, I’ll give mine.”

The idea of an old convict giving us a true account of his misfortunes and crimes, was thought to be a very happy one; and the whole company were amused at the way the “Elephant” had defeated Norton’s attempt to gratify his curiosity: for they had no idea that the convict would make a “confession.” But to the surprise of all, he accepted the terms; and declared himself ready and willing to tell “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”

Olliphant and Bill could not retreat from the position they had taken, and Norton was called upon to commence. The glasses were again filled, and the short black pipes relit.

The company kept profound silence – showing the deep interest they felt in hearing the life narrative of a man, with whose crimes rumour had already made them partially acquainted.

“I am,” began Norton, “the son of a poor man – a day labourer, and was born in the north of Scotland. Inspired by the hopes common to youth, I married early. In consequence, I had to endure the misery every man must meet, who is cursed with poverty, and blessed with a family he is unable to support.

“The mutual affection my wife and I entertained for each other, only increased our wretchedness. It was agony to see one who loved me, having to endure the privations and hardships to which our poverty subjected us.

“By almost superhuman exertions, and by living half-starved, I managed at last to scrape together a sufficient sum to take me to America – where I hoped to be able to provide a home for my wife and child.

“I had not the means to take them along with me, though I left enough to secure, what I thought, would be a permanent home for them until I should return.

“My wife had a brother – an only relative – who lived in a lonely house among the hills. He and his wife kindly agreed to give my old woman a home, until I should either return, or send for her.

“I will not weary you with the particulars of what I did in America – more than to state that I went to the copper mines near Lake Superior; and that I was not there a year, before I was so fortunate as to find a rich vein of ore, which I sold to a mining company for 6,000 dollars.

“I sent my wife a part of this money, along with the intelligence, that I would soon return for her. With the rest, I purchased a small farm in the southern part of the State of Ohio; and leaving a man in charge of it, I returned to Scotland for my family.

“I got back in the middle of winter – in December. It was a very cold morning, when I arrived in sight of the hovel, that contained all I loved most dear on earth. It was Christmas Day; and, in order to have the pleasure of spending it along with my wife, I had walked all the night before. When I drew near the house, I noticed that the snow – that had been falling for two days – lay untrodden around the door!

“I hurried up inside, when I saw, lying on the floor, and partly covered with rags, my wife and child. They were what men call —dead!

“The appearance of the hut, and of the dead bodies, told me all. They had died of cold and hunger.

“I afterwards learnt, that my brother-in-law had died some time before; and that his wife immediately afterwards had gone away from the hovel to join some of her own relatives, who lived near the border.

“My poor wife had disposed of every thing that would sell for a penny; and had in vain endeavoured to find employment. The distance of the hut from any neighbour, had prevented her from receiving assistance in the last hours of her existence: for no one had been aware of the state of destitution to which she had been reduced.

“During the severe storm preceding her decease, she had probably lingered too long in the hut to be able to escape from it; and had miserably perished, as in a prison.

“Neither she, nor the child, could have been dead for any length of time. Their corpses were scarcely cold; and it was horrible for me to think, that I had been walking in the greatest haste throughout all that stormy night, and yet had arrived too late to rescue them!

“When sitting by their lifeless forms, in an agony of mind that words cannot describe, I was disturbed by the arrival of a stranger. It turned out to be the post carrier, who stepping inside the hut, handed me a letter. At a glance, I saw it was the letter I had sent from America – enclosing a draft for twenty-five pounds.

“Why has this letter not been delivered before?” I inquired of the man, speaking as calmly as I could.

“He apologised, by saying that the letter had only been in his possession four days; and that no one could expect him to come that distance in a snow storm, when he had no other letter to deliver on the way!

“I took up an old chair – the only article of furniture in the house – and knocked the man senseless to the floor.

“His skull was broken by the blow; and he soon after died.

“I was tried, and convicted of manslaughter, for which I received a sentence of ten years transportation.