Читать книгу: «Chambers's Edinburgh Journal, No. 424», страница 5

GENIUS FOR EMIGRATION

Lady E. Stuart Wortley, in the account of her journey in America, mentions that she saw a man proceeding on foot across the Isthmus of Panama, bound for the Pacific, carrying a huge box on his back that would almost have contained a house. It was really a dreadful thing to see the poor man, full-cry for California, toiling along with his enormous burden, under a tropical sun, the heat of which he required to endure through forty miles of wilderness, and no chance of relief or refreshment by the way. Yet this serio-comic spectacle is not singular. Multitudes seem to have gone to the diggings with every species of encumbrance, and in a totally unsuitable garb. Splendid dress-coats and waistcoats, boots and pantaloons, but no working-clothes, nor implements for camping, and in many instances not even a cloak: everything suitable for the enjoyment of their golden promises, with nothing to assist in realising them.

Nearly the same thing has occurred in innumerable instances as regards Australia. The men going thither must in general be shepherds or their masters; and to be either to any purpose, they must go far into the bush. For this they required a talent for constructing huts for themselves and servants, and hurdles for the cattle, and consequently tools to assist them; but they often went without either tools or talents, and so had to pay extravagantly for very common services. They may have had common clothes, but they had made no provision for living far from the assistance of women; and consequently, if a coat-sleeve was torn, it must hang just as it was; if a stocking was out at heel, having neither needles nor worsted, nor the power of using them, they had no other resource but to tie the hole together. They had no idea of washing and dressing, and consequently must want clean linen, or stockings, and every other article of clean apparel, till a woman could be heard of, and bribed to assist them. The consequence was, that it was cheaper to buy new articles than either wash or mend the old. It is doubtful whether many had not omitted to learn to shave themselves, or to provide razors or strops, or even scissors.

Then as to baking bread, or cooking the humblest meal, they were equally at a loss. They seem to have had no idea of the humblest grate, or even of a flat and easily-cleaned stone for a hearth; and so, having kneaded their 'damper,' it is never said how they thrust it in the ashes till it was partially heated, and comparatively fit to be eaten. They have mutton, and mutton only; but how cooked is equally unknown. It is not known that they have any apparatus whatever, stew or frying pan, or even a hook and string. Yet the natives of Scotland may have seen many things nicely baked by means of a hot hearthstone below, a griddle with live coals above, and burning turf all round. A single pot with water is a boiler; with the juice of the meat, or little more, a stew-pan; or merely surrounded by fire, an oven: but it is believed many have not that single pot. Even the cheap crock that holds salted meat might also be turned into a pudding-dish; and such a vessel as that which of old held the ashes of the dead, and now occasionally holds salt, the French peasant often turns into a pot-au-feu—a pot for boiling his soup—and makes that soup out of docks and nettles collected by the wayside, with a little meal—delicious if seasoned with salt and a scrap of meat, or a well-picked lark or sparrow, or even a nicely-skinned and washed thigh of a frog!

The natives of New Holland themselves get fat upon serpents well-killed—that is, with the heads adroitly cut off, so as not to suffer the poison to go through the body; or upon earth or tree worms nicely roasted. The Turks roast their kebabs—something near to mutton-chops—by holding them to the fire on skewers. But the inhabitants of Great Britain, accustomed to comforts unknown to any other part of the world, are, when deprived of these comforts, the most helpless in the world.

The natives of Ireland might be supposed to be excellent subjects for emigration, for at home they have often only straw and rags for beds, stones for seats, and one larger in the middle for a table; while the basket or 'kish' that washes the potatoes, receives them again when boiled: so that the pot and basket are the only articles of furniture. Simplicity beyond this is hardly conceivable: there is but one step beyond it—wanting the pot, and throwing the potatoes, however cooked, broadcast upon the stone-table; and this is possible by roasting the potatoes in the embers. The Guachos of South America teach how even the most savoury meal of beef may be obtained without pot or oven—namely, by roasting it in the skin! It is called carne-con-cuero—flesh in the skin—and is pronounced delicious. Diogenes threw away his dish, his only article of furniture, upon seeing a boy drink from his hand; and after this example, an Irishman might throw away his pot; though we would not recommend him to do so.

Unless people know how to prepare food, they may starve in the midst of comparative plenty. It is alleged—though we do not vouch for the fact—that when wheat and maize were carried into Ireland and given gratis, the famine was not stayed. Though they had the wheat and maize, they could not grind them; if ground, they could not cook them—they had neither vessels nor fuel; if vessels and fuel were given, they were still unable to assist themselves—they had not skill to cook them; and if cooked, they could not eat them—they had never been accustomed to do so! Such are the effects of carrying contentment too far: the individual becomes wholly resourceless.

We try to induce them to fish with the same results. If we give them boats, they have no nets; give them nets, they know not how to use them; teach them to use them, and they can neither cook nor eat the fish; and as to selling them for other comforts, there is no market! Without a knowledge of agriculture, or fishing, or even talents to feed themselves, such men are useless in any quarter, unless as subjects to be taught; and now at last, but greatly too late, they are being taught, and the much-abused railway will carry their produce to the market.

The Scottish Celt is more shifty. In the old days when he had flesh and little else to eat, he could broil it on the coals; and a Scotch collop is perhaps equal to a Turkish kebob. We wonder if in Australia the long-forgotten Scotch collop has been revived? It requires no cooking-vessels. It may be held to the fire on a twig, or laid on the coals and turned by a similar twig—bent into a collop-tongs—or even by the fingers.

In the Rebellion of 1745, the Scoto-Celt could knead into a cake the meal, which he carried as his sole provision, and knew that it ought to be fired upon a griddle; but if he had no other convenience, he could knead it in his bonnet, and eat it raw, and go forth to meet and conquer the best-appointed soldiers in Europe. It was only when at last he had neither rest nor food that he was dispersed—not conquered. A lowland Scot is better. With a dish and hot water, and of course the meal and salt, he can make brose, and live and thrive upon it.

How John Bull, who in his own country is carnivorous, and will have his roast-pig on Sunday, if he should slave all the week—how he gets on in a new country, is more doubtful. Very likely, having more wants, he makes more provision for them; but as below a certain rank he is not a writing animal, less is known of his successes or difficulties. For our own part, we think we would have made an excellent Crusoe, and your Crusoe is the only man for a new country.

Some years ago, we travelled over the backbone of Scotland, and returned somewhat on its western fin, both on foot; and all our equipments were a travelling dress, a stout umbrella, and a parcel in wax-cloth strapped on our left shoulder, not larger than is generally seen in the hands of a commercial traveller—that is, twelve inches by six or eight; and yet we never wanted for anything. It is true we had generally the convenience of inns by the way; but if by our Traveller's Guide (which we also carried) we saw the stage was to be long, an oaten cake, with a plug of wheaten bread for the last mouthful, to keep down heartburn, and a slice of cold beef or ham, or a hard-boiled egg, were ample provisions. Drink? There was no lack of drink. Springs of the most beautiful water were frequent by the roadside, and constantly bubbling up, without noise or motion, through the purest sand, though heaven only was looking upon them; and a single leaf from our memorandum-book, formed into the shape of a grocer's twist as wanted, served us as a drinking-cup throughout the journey. Had we even been overtaken by night, it was summer, and a bed under whins, or upon heather, with our umbrella set against the wind, and secured to us, would have been delightful. Once, indeed, we feared this would have been our fate; for on the very top of Corryarrick, and consequently nine miles or more from house or home in any direction, we sprained our ankle, or rather an old sprain returned. To all appearance, we were done for, and might have sat stiff for days or weeks by the solitary spring that happened to be near at the instant. But a piece of flannel from the throat, and a tape from the wondrous parcel, enabled us again to wag; and we finished our allotted journey to Dalwhinnie in time for dinner, tea, and supper in one—and then to our journal with glorious serenity!

Our arrangements for the continent were equally simple. When we were asked to shew our luggage, on entering France, we produced a portmanteau nine inches by six. 'Voila ma magasin!' It was opened, and there were certainly some superfluities, though natural enough in an incipient traveller. 'Une plume pour écrire l'Histoire de la France!'—'Un cahier pour la même!' And the intending historian of France, even with his imported pen and paper-book, and also three shirts and some pairs of socks, was allowed to go to his dinner, with his magasin in his hand, and start by the first conveyance; while his less fortunate fellow-travellers had to dine in absence of their luggage, and perhaps give the town that had the honour of being their landing-place, the profit of their company for the night.

But what is the use of all these insinuations of aptitude for colonisation, when there is not such another man in the world? We beg pardon; but we have actually discovered such another, and to introduce him suitably has been the sole aim of our existence in writing this interesting preface. In a most authentic newspaper, we find the following admirable history, copied from the New York Express:—

'A man who had been an unsuccessful delver in the mines of Georgia, on hearing the thrilling news of the gold placers of California, had his spirit quickened within him; and although he had arrived at an age—being about sixty—when the fires of youth usually cease to burn with vigour, he fixed his eyes upon the far-distant and but little-known country, and resolved that he would wend his way thither alone, and even in the absence of that friend, generally thought indispensable, money, of which he was wholly destitute.

'Under such circumstances, it would not avail to think of a passage round "The Horn," or by the more uncertain, and at the same time imperfected route, across the Isthmus. But as California was on this continent, he knew that there was a way thither, though it might lead through trackless deserts and barren wastes. These were not enough to daunt his determined spirit. He bent his way to the "Father of Waters," and worked his way as he could, till he found himself at "Independence," in health, and with no less strength, and with 150 dollars in his purse. He had no family to provide for, or even companion to care for, on the route which he was about to enter. Yet some things were necessary for himself; and to relieve his body from the pressure of a load, he provided himself with a wheel-barrow, on which to place his traps.

'It must not be supposed that our hero was ignorant of the large number of emigrants that was moving over the plains, and it is quite probable that his sagacity was precocious enough to look ahead at the result of attempting to carry forward such ponderous loads, and such a variety of at least dispensable things as the earlier parties started with. A detailed list of the 'amount and variety of goods and wares, useful and superfluous, including many of the appendages of refined and fashionable life, would astonish the reader. Our hero was not in a hurry. He reasoned thus: "The world was not made in a day; the race is not always for the swift." He trundled along his barrow, enjoying the comforts of his pipe, the object of wonder to many, and the subject of much sportive remark to those who were hurried along by their fresh and spirited teams on their first days.

'Many weeks had not passed, however, before our traveller had tangible evidence that trouble had fallen to the lot of some who had preceded him. A stray ox was feeding on his track: the mate of which, he afterwards learned, was killed, and this one turned adrift as useless. He coaxed this waif to be the companion of his journey, taking care to stop where he could provide himself with the needful sustenance. He had not travelled far before he found a mate for his ox, and ere long a wagon, which had given way in some of its parts, and been abandoned by its rightful owner, and left in the road. Our travelling genius was aroused to turn these mishaps to his own advantage; so he went straightway to work to patch and bolster up the wagon, bound his faithful oxen to it, and changed his employment from trundling a wheel-barrow to driving a team. Onward moved the new establishment, the owner gathering as he went, from the superabundance of those who had gone before him, various articles of utility—such as flour, provisions of all kinds, books, implements, even rich carpets, &c. which had been cast off as burdensome by other travellers. He would occasionally find poor worn-out animals that had been left behind, and as it was not important for him to speed his course, he gathered them together, stopping where there was abundance of grass, long enough for his cattle to gain a little strength and spirit. Time rolled on, and his wagon rolled with it, till he reached the end of his journey, when it was discovered that he had an uncommon fine team and a good wagon, &c. which produced him on the sale 2500 dollars.

'Being now relieved of the care of his team, and in the midst of the gold-diggings, he soon closed his prospecting by a location; and while all around him were concentrating their strength to consummate the work of years in a few months, he deliberately commenced building, finishing, and, as fast as he could, furnishing, a comfortable cabin. His wood he gathered and regularly piled in a straight line and perpendicular by the door, convenient as though the old lady had been within to provide his meals. He acted upon the adage, "Never to start till you are ready." Now our hero was ready to commence working his "claim;" and this he did, as he did everything else, steadily and systematically.

'He may yet be seen at his work, with the prospect—if he lives to be an old man—of being rich; for in the last two years he has accumulated 10,000 dollars.'

Need we add a word? This is decidedly the kind of man for emigrating—or, indeed, for remaining at home. We, being of his own character, can conceive his delicious nights of camping out, his head under his wheel-barrow, until he arrived at the dignity of a wagon; his principal luggage being perhaps a coverlet, to preserve him from the cold in sleep, and a gun that unscrewed, and its appendages, to provide him a fresh bird or beef. It is very probable that he sought neither of these, but was contented with something concentrated and preserved, and thus feasted; and with a drink from some delicious spring, or from a bottle—that could not be broken—supplied at the last spring he had passed, lay down conscious of his progress, well satisfied with the past, and hopeful of the future.

On his arrival at his destination, his conduct is equally exemplary. Every one should provide for the preservation of life and health as first measures; and if not done at a rate which future exertions are likely to render profitable, why make the expenditure? Now, many are in all these new adventures expending on inevitable necessities—having made no previous provision for them—such sums as render all their exertions hopeless; while at the same time they are sacrificing health and strength.

The government of Australia has certainly been very successful in preserving order at the gold placers there, and has given its sanction upon moderate terms; for here, we believe, gold and silver mines are inter regalia, and could have been entirely seized by the crown. We sincerely trust it will appropriate the great and unexpected revenue thence arising in improving the roads through this magnificent country, and providing shelter for the traveller; for at this moment, many of the roads being over the steepest mountains, and the gradients unmitigated by cuttings, or any other act of engineering whatever, they are all but impassable, and are travelled with the greatest torture to the unfortunate animals concerned. It was the reproach of Spain, that though in possession of South America for centuries, she had formed few roads; and that the few formed were bad, and the accommodation in their neighbourhood of the worst description—often open sheds, without food or furniture, or indeed inhabitants; or if inhabited, with only stones for seats, and raised mounds of earth for beds. Even now, in little more than half a century, things are better in Australia than this, at least wherever government has extended. But there is a vast deal more to be done; and it is a pity that in the first place suitable schools are not formed for the persons intending to emigrate, and opportunity given them to do so, without the degradation of crime, and the expense and disgrace of conviction.