Difference between revisions of "Frederick W. Tatham"

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==Post 1854 Experiences==
 
==Post 1854 Experiences==
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::Mr. F.W. Tatham, manager of the Prince of Wales Company from 1862 to its winding up in 1875, gives an episode or two illustrative of the times and the men of the fifties. He says, referring to the mad, early, womanless days, that Brandy was the great panacea for too many. But civilisation gradually dawned, and some congenial spirits now and then met to discuss politics, theology, or other serious matters in the tent on Sundays or evenings. There was one party consisting of three doctors, a captain in the army, some sea captains, and some American colonels and majors. Some of them are dead, others scattered over the world, but some of them became victims of alcohol. Joe N———, our next tent neighbour, a merry, bibulous sawmaker from Sheffield, had a young wife. About a year after marriage she had to prepare for a serious emergency, but had no means, for Joe swallowed everything. My wife and other women promised to help her, and I tried to get hold of Joe, but there was no getting him then into a serious mood. At last, one Sunday morning, as the wife's time was drawing near, and things were dear and scarce, I got Joe to look at the position. As soon as he realised it, he said he knew where he could get some gold, and would soon set things right. Next day he brought home a few pennyweights — enough to make a start with. The next day he got several ounces, too late for the intended service, as the young stranger had made an appearance; but the ladies had cut up some of their own clothes, and so the exigency was met. That was a year before the Eureka affair. At another time Joe came to my tent one Sunday morning, and we went exploring up by [[Black Hill]], Dead Horse, and Rotten Gully, afterwards called [[Little Bendigo]]. He was hard up, as usual, and I had no money, for I did not expect to want any. After an hour's travelling, Joe wanted to drink; I said we could get a drink of tea at some tent. "Tea be blowed", said Joe. "But we have no money, and the shanties don't give grog on credit." "Oh, if you'll help," replied Joe, "that's all right." We looked round among the shallow holes for some likely looking headings, found a tin dish planted among some rubbish, scooped up half a dish of dirt, and washed it off, getting a few grains. After repeating the experiment three or four times, he succeeded in getting nearly a pennyweight of gold, and, tying it up in a bit of rag, he persuaded a German grog seller to let him have about a quarter pint of brandy. That was in the mad times when men would not wash dirt for less than an ounce to the tub, and nobody took much notice of a man washing a bit of headings, even on a Sunday. Poor Joe is long since dead. Some of the other and better educated mob of professionals and naval and military men thought of little else than where they could got brandy. They knew something of chemistry, and I have heard them boast how, when all their money and credit was gone, and, living far into the night in a drug store, they, with the help of some pain-killer, manufactured a palatable drink. One of the ladies who helped Joe's wife was Mrs. Pincott, whose husband subsequently gave his name to Pincott's dam. They lived close by our tent, and Mrs. Pincott gave birth to a son, the first born on these diggings. This was close to [[Brown Hill]], and Pincott's mates were so pleased that they took the hat round, and collected bits of gold from some of the wash-dirt paddocks; some gave them small nuggets, some gave wash-dirt, some money, altogether amounting to about £80, and the lad was named Eureka. He lived and throve three or four years, and then fell into a water hole. His mother found him before he was dead, but, though she made frantic efforts to get him out of the shallow hole, she could not reach him. Digging her toes into the sides of the shaft, she kept the boy for a time out of the water, but could not make her cries for help heard until too late to save her child's life.<Re>W.B. Withers, History of Ballarat, 1887.</ref>
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Revision as of 17:44, 23 May 2023

Goldfields Involvement, 1854

Post 1854 Experiences

Mr. F.W. Tatham, manager of the Prince of Wales Company from 1862 to its winding up in 1875, gives an episode or two illustrative of the times and the men of the fifties. He says, referring to the mad, early, womanless days, that Brandy was the great panacea for too many. But civilisation gradually dawned, and some congenial spirits now and then met to discuss politics, theology, or other serious matters in the tent on Sundays or evenings. There was one party consisting of three doctors, a captain in the army, some sea captains, and some American colonels and majors. Some of them are dead, others scattered over the world, but some of them became victims of alcohol. Joe N———, our next tent neighbour, a merry, bibulous sawmaker from Sheffield, had a young wife. About a year after marriage she had to prepare for a serious emergency, but had no means, for Joe swallowed everything. My wife and other women promised to help her, and I tried to get hold of Joe, but there was no getting him then into a serious mood. At last, one Sunday morning, as the wife's time was drawing near, and things were dear and scarce, I got Joe to look at the position. As soon as he realised it, he said he knew where he could get some gold, and would soon set things right. Next day he brought home a few pennyweights — enough to make a start with. The next day he got several ounces, too late for the intended service, as the young stranger had made an appearance; but the ladies had cut up some of their own clothes, and so the exigency was met. That was a year before the Eureka affair. At another time Joe came to my tent one Sunday morning, and we went exploring up by Black Hill, Dead Horse, and Rotten Gully, afterwards called Little Bendigo. He was hard up, as usual, and I had no money, for I did not expect to want any. After an hour's travelling, Joe wanted to drink; I said we could get a drink of tea at some tent. "Tea be blowed", said Joe. "But we have no money, and the shanties don't give grog on credit." "Oh, if you'll help," replied Joe, "that's all right." We looked round among the shallow holes for some likely looking headings, found a tin dish planted among some rubbish, scooped up half a dish of dirt, and washed it off, getting a few grains. After repeating the experiment three or four times, he succeeded in getting nearly a pennyweight of gold, and, tying it up in a bit of rag, he persuaded a German grog seller to let him have about a quarter pint of brandy. That was in the mad times when men would not wash dirt for less than an ounce to the tub, and nobody took much notice of a man washing a bit of headings, even on a Sunday. Poor Joe is long since dead. Some of the other and better educated mob of professionals and naval and military men thought of little else than where they could got brandy. They knew something of chemistry, and I have heard them boast how, when all their money and credit was gone, and, living far into the night in a drug store, they, with the help of some pain-killer, manufactured a palatable drink. One of the ladies who helped Joe's wife was Mrs. Pincott, whose husband subsequently gave his name to Pincott's dam. They lived close by our tent, and Mrs. Pincott gave birth to a son, the first born on these diggings. This was close to Brown Hill, and Pincott's mates were so pleased that they took the hat round, and collected bits of gold from some of the wash-dirt paddocks; some gave them small nuggets, some gave wash-dirt, some money, altogether amounting to about £80, and the lad was named Eureka. He lived and throve three or four years, and then fell into a water hole. His mother found him before he was dead, but, though she made frantic efforts to get him out of the shallow hole, she could not reach him. Digging her toes into the sides of the shaft, she kept the boy for a time out of the water, but could not make her cries for help heard until too late to save her child's life.<Re>W.B. Withers, History of Ballarat, 1887.</ref>


See also

Further Reading

References


External links



File:File name.jpg
Caption, Reference.