|
You can also help us to provide you with more resources by making a payment, just click on the PayPal™ button on the left.
The following article relates the experiences of a new man during his first, and only, underground shift working in a gold mine. It is an interesting read and an insight into the working conditions in the 1870’s. Although written in Adelong it is indicative of what life was like in any mine.
The Australian Town and Country Journal, 8th February 1879 :
“A New Chum’s Experiences in a Gold Mine.
(FROM OUR CORRESPONDENT.)
“Adelong, January.
“THE miners of this goldfield fully appreciate the space you devote to mining. When first I came here, some years ago, I was desirous of making myself acquainted with mining in every possible way, not only on the surface, but below ground. No doubt had I applied to some of the managers, I should have had permission granted to go down - but this did not give me the opportunity to find out what occurred during a whole shift; to accomplish this object I made up my mind to seek employment in a claim, having heard there were several billets I could manage. At length a chance offered, and I availed myself of it. A friend of mine who was acquainted with many of the men was applied to, and asked if he knew of a likely person who could take the place of the boss during his absence. My friend sent off a man at once to request me to meet the party. Accordingly I was introduced to him, and understood he had undertaken a contract to get out a very large quantity of mulloch, and he wanted a person to see the men kept to their work when he was not on shift; he said he did not want me to work. I was to receive 6s for every shift I superintended. I told my boss, whose name was Allen, but went by the cognomen of Lanky Allen, that I had never been below, But I being a good lump of a fellow, and he perhaps, thinking he would have plenty for his money, engaged me; he said I could come on Sunday night, but as I had never been down a claim, I said I would sooner go on the day shift, not that daylight makes much difference; so it was arranged I should go on the 8 o’clock shift. The claim in which he had taken the contract was, some seven years since, the deepest on the line of reef.
“I then had to turn my attention to a rig out for the occasion, a bell topper, and coat with very long skirts was not the style in which to work in a claim; accordingly I bought a pair of moleskin trousers and a gorgeous crimean shirt, and a soft felt hat, a leathern belt, and a pair of navvy boots, got my landlady to make me a crib bag, and my landlord, who was a miner, made me a lantern, by cutting down one of Hennessy’s P.B.’s, encased in a coffee tin, with a portion cut away to emit the light. Thus equipped, I wended my way to the scene of my labour.
“I had not quite measured the time, the hill being a tough one to ascend. I met the men who had been on night shift returning. When I got to the claim all had gone below, and to tell the truth, I wished then I had not engaged. I went into the shed, and the blacksmith said ‘Is your name George,’ I answered in the affirmative. He said ‘You’re going to work for Lanky.’ I said yes. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘when you came I was to send down a telegram.’ I thought it was a queer spot for a telegraph office; however, he sent a paper down in the descending bucket, and a reply came up I was to go down. Then my heart was in my mouth; but I had made up my mind to go down, and go I would; it was then my troubles commenced. The blacksmith would see I was a new chum at that sort of work, and did not make use of any chaffing remarks, so I unburdened myself to him. I told him I had never been down before. He said ‘Then I’m blanked if ever you get down alive.’ Oh ! Just then two men came into the shed, and the blacksmith said, ‘This chap’s going to work for Lanky.’ ‘Ah where have you been working mate ?’ I said, ‘Not in this colony.’ ‘Well,’ says one, ‘he’s a swell at any rate.’ With my heart jumping about, I said, ‘where do you go down ?’ I thought I should have to go down the main shaft, but I was told under the shed; but, says one of the coves, ‘Jack, this cove’ll never get through the man-holes.’ ‘Hope he won’t in one way,’ says the blacksmith. I then was lighting my lantern, one of them said ‘You can’t get down with that thing.’ One man said, ‘Where’s your clay,’ and handed me a candle.
“All the fellows there behaved well. One looked at my hat, and taking a pinch of it, he thrust his knife into it, put a bit of candle lighted into the hole, and a lump of clay to keep it steady. I left my coat and billy in the blacksmith’s shop; and, for the first time in my life was going down the ladders. I had got to the end of one ladder when my candle fell; I was then in darkness, I looked up, saw the blessed light, and felt how glad I should be if I was there. I was told on top to keep turning to the right. I got on to the second ladder, holding on like grim death to the rounds. This ladder was very close to the side of the shaft, only room for your toes. To add to my terror, the ladders were wet and slippery. Another thing that made my blood go cold, was that two rounds were out of the ladder, and I kept dipping one foot some time before I could touch anything. At last I did get one foot on to the next one, but to my horror this ladder was loose. When I came to the man-holes, I had to screw my body into all sorts of forms to get through, being nearly as big round as a quarter cask. Finding myself on something more solid, I had a spell. Presnetly I heard a sound, the most unearthly I ever heard. It was the voice of my boss, who was on his upward journey, he having had a message.
“I had left the surface some time. I felt great relief, and felt I had some protection. He said I ought to have been down long ago. I said, ‘Is it much deeper ?’ He replied I had come no distance yet. he said, ‘Follow me,’ and was dropping down much sharper. he had a light, and observed that I had both feet at one time on a single round of the ladder. He said, with an oath, though he was said to be a strict Wesleyan, that I must only have one foot on at a time. I told him I would have six on, if I had been blest with so many.”
“We got down to a drive where there was a tramway and a lot of water, to keep out of which I had to walk on the rails. Here some men were at work, who soon discovered I was a new chum. They advised me to pull off my new shirt, having a singlet underneath. I was only too glad to do so, for I was wet to the skin with perspiration from fear; but to get it off was a work of some difficulty. I left it, intending to resume it on my up journey if I survived the shift. We then descended another hundred feet, on horrible ladders. My boss said, ‘George, you must go down into the chamber, and get to work.’ I said, ‘You know I don’t know how to work; I was to see others at work.’ ‘Oh,’ says he, ‘Jack So-and-So is below; help him till I come.’
“I got to the bottom, and asked where the chamber was, when I was told I was in it; it looked a queer chamber to me. There were some men at work on a scaffold, but they called it a stage. They asked me what I had come to do. I told them I had nothing to do, only to see others do their work. ‘Who’s your boss ?’ I told them Allen. ‘He’s the wrong customer to pay you for doing nothing.’ Captain Armstrong said, ‘Whose man are you ?’ I told him. He says, ‘You must get that mullock out of the drive, and break the big stones so they will go into the bucket, and sort out the seconds.’ I was looking about for a hammer to break the stone, and seeing one I got hold of it, when a fellow said, ‘If you take that I’ll break your blank head.’ One of the men on the stage said, ‘Here mate, take this down.’ I put up my hand, thinking it was empty, when lo ! it fell in my hand, and half a tin full of water came down over me. I took this in good part. I knew they were taking a rise out of me. I then got hold of a one end pick, but it made no impression on the stones, so far as making them less. An order came down to send up the tools. I was told that was my job; by this drills were intended. I had never seen a drill, but saw laying in all directions, what I thought were rod iron. I imagined there had been great waste. I was in the act of collecting shovels and picks together to send up, when a mate said, ‘What are you going to do ?’ I said, ‘Send up the tools.’ The men laughed heartily, and told me it was the drills, pointing to where they were. I collected all I could find, and inquired how I was to send them up. I was told to lash them. I inquired for lashing, and was told to call up the shaft, and some rope was dropped down from the first landing. I laid two ropes down, and was about to tie the drills in a bundle and swing them on to the claim. This was wrong. I was then told to put then into the bucket and lash them, and put mullock round the side. This I did, and was waiting by the side of the bucket, having previously been cautioned by Captain Armstrong to keep the bucket away from the sides when it ascended; but it did not ascend. I inquired the reason, and was told I must knock. This I did with a shovel on the side of the shaft. Some of the men laughed at my simplicity, as no doubt they thought it, when I was informed to go to a certain corner and pull a wire. I kept on pulling for a long time. I found out after that the braceman thought the knocker, or at least the agitator, was mad. A part gave the usual number of knocks, and up goes the bucket and tools, when lo, and behold, I had sent up the sharp tools instead of the blunt ones. This I got colonial blessings for. I went on with my bringing the mullock from the mouth of a drive into the chamber, while a party was sent to fill the buckets. This man understood the knocker. This brought on crib time, and if ever a man was thankful it was your correspondent. I had never been used to work, and was soaking wet with perspiration, steaming like a boiled leg of mutton fresh from the pot. We had a good muster at crib, and I fancy a few who knew me began to inquire of themselves if they were square in the upper garret. At last an old acquaintance inquired what I did there. To all I said I had come to work, but it was beyond their comprehension. Down comes the bucket and the billys of tea, mine with the rest. Oh ! shall I ever forget the comfort I received from that beverage ? But alas ! I had left my crib in the blacksmith’s shop; but, generous hearts to a man, all would have given me their food, but a little sufficed to satisfy my hunger. I was only athirst. ‘Smoke, O !’ and then again to work.
“About 2 o’clock I had got the mullock from the mouth of the drive, and being too far to throw it into the chamber, I was supplied with a barrow, narrow and long. When full the leverage was very great. Never shall I forget that barrow. The sides kept dropping out, the wheel and spindles were much worn, and wriggled about like a drunken man. Oh ! how I prayed for 4 o’clock, for I was near dead beat, for I had to wheel this barrow down an incline of 1 in 4. My boss came on the scene now, and, although a strict Wesleyan, I shall never forget the oaths this man made use of because (to use his own words) I did not fill the barrow ‘chock-a-block.’ Wishing to avoid this saint’s dreadful language, I tried to wheel more; yet this fiend, who told me he did not wish me to work, was not satisfied. Just then several voices called out ‘Fire !’ I could see nothing to burn but huge blocks of stone, so kept on working. One of the men sung out for me to run. There was no run in me by this time. However, I learned a shot was about going off. I was soon half way up a ladder, when another man said I had left my candle. I was descending for this candle, when I was shouted to in Parliamentary terms, and called, not an angel, but something belonging to another sphere.
“I was then awake to the danger. I got higher up the ladder, put my head into a cavity of the rock, and never moved it until the shots were fired. Descending again, I went as well as I could, for I could not see my way for smoke, to my barrow. My lovely master then desired me to bring mullock from the far end of the drive. I could not see for smoke. I was exhausted, and really ill. The last load I shall ever wheel (at least in mullock) is something to talk about, for, coming down this incline, the barrow fell over. I fell over, and knocked the boss over also. For the latter, don’t accuse me of being uncharitable. I was glad of it. The time was up, the shift over.
“The boss then asked me if I would work half a shift more. I told him I could not. he said, ‘Well, George, you have worked well. You shall have an easier job to-morrow.’ I told him I certainly should, but not in a claim. The thought of getting out was uppermost in my mind all that day. I thought I would let all go up, the other shift come down, and then take my time. Shall I ever forget the difficulty I had to ascend, and so many stoppages. I was three quarters of an hour before I reached the surface. I managed to get out, and should have swooned had it not been for the blacksmith, who gave me a drink.
“I wandered away to where a pure crystal stream was flowing. Oh, I shall never forget how I enjoyed the pure draught. I have never received pay for that shift, which for some years has afforded amusement for our miners; also, among those who worked the same shift with me. I have had many invitations from our worthy managers to descend, but decline the honour, unless my duty demands it.”
See Also
|
