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Lost Lenore: The Adventures of a Rolling Stone

Volume Three – Chapter Seven.
Raffling Away a Wife

Our claim on the Avoca “lead” turned out to be worth working; and we had five or six weeks of hard toil before us. My mate continued temperate and industrious; and we got along together without any misunderstanding.

One day we were informed by a man passing our tent, that a very interesting affair was to come off that evening – at a certain grog-shop not far from where we lived.

My partner was strongly advised to be there: as there would be a spectacle worth witnessing.

“Shall you go?” I asked, after the man had gone.

“No – not alone,” replied he, “the place has a bad name; and I know that one of the parties concerned in what is to take place is a bad bird. You go along with me, and you’ll see some amusement.”

“Have you any idea what it’s to be?” I inquired.

“Yes. I think they are going to have a raffle.”

“A raffle! There’s nothing very interesting about that!”

“That depends,” significantly rejoined my partner. “Supposing it is a woman that’s to be raffled for?”

“A woman to be raffled for!”

“So I believe. There is a Hobart Town man here, who has a young wife, with whom he has been quarrelling for the last month. He has found out that it is impossible to live with her any longer; and is going to put her up to be raffled for.”

I had seen a negro slave disposed of in this fashion in the city of New Orleans; but had never heard of a man raffling away his wife; and the oddness of the thing determined me to go. Having signified my intention to my mate, he promised to take me to the place, and also take care of me while there.

The reader may think his promised protection unnecessary – after my having managed for so many years to take care of myself. But I knew that amongst “old hands,” the protection or friendship, of one of their own “kidney” was worth having; and I certainly would not have gone, without some one to introduce, and look after me – one such as my mining partner, who knew their ways, and would give them to understand, that I was not to be molested.

At that time on the gold-field of Avoca, there were probably about ten men to one woman; and a man, who was so fortunate as to possess a wife, was thought to be a very lucky individual indeed. Any woman, however ugly she might have appeared in other lands, would there have passed for a Venus. Knowing this to be the state of things, I was not surprised, when, on reaching the grog-shop with my companion, we found a large crowd of between thirty and forty men assembled around it. In one way only was I astonished; and that was, that the majority of those present were not “old hands,” but rather the contrary.

This observation was also made by my companion, who shook his head significantly, but said nothing.

I did not understand what meaning he intended to convey by this gesture – at least not at the time.

From the appearance of the crowd collected round the grog-shop, I had no doubt but that I should be well rewarded for my trouble in walking to the place. I could see that some pains had been taken in selecting the company: for it appeared to be composed of that class of young miners – known as “fast,” and “flush” – that is with money to spend, and the disposition to spend it.

The woman who was to be disposed of was in the room, seated on the edge of a table, and swinging her legs about with perfect nonchalance. One of her eyes bore, in distinct characters of a purplish hue, some evidence of a very late disagreement with her husband, or some one else. She seemed much pleased at the commotion she was causing; and quite indifferent as to its results. She was about twenty-three years of age; and rather good-looking.

The husband was about forty years old; and was a vulgar looking wretch – even for a “Vandemonian.” His features were twisted into a disgusting leer, from which I could well fancy they were but seldom relieved.

I was not surprised at the woman seeming pleased at the idea of parting with him. My wonder was, how he had ever been allowed to obtain the power of disposing of her.

There was not a man in the room, or perhaps on the diggings, that any creature entitled to the name of woman, should not have preferred, to the ugly animal who claimed to be her husband.

I could perceive from the woman’s behaviour, that she possessed a violent temper, which to an ignorant brute of a man, would no doubt render her difficult of being managed. But there appeared to be nothing more against her – at least, nothing to prevent a man of common sense from living with her, and having no more serious misunderstandings, than such as are usually required to vary the monotony of connubial life.

The business of getting up the raffle, and carrying it through, was managed by a young man, who played the part of mutual friend – the proprietor of the article at stake, being to all appearance too drunk, or too ignorant, to act as master of the ceremonies.

After a sufficient number of persons was thought to have arrived upon the ground, it was decided to go on with the business of discovering: to whom fate should decree the future ownership of the woman.

“Gentlemen!” said the mutual friend, rising up, and placing himself upon a chair, “I suppose you all know the game that’s up here to-night? I believe that most of you be aware, that my friend ‘Brumming’ here, can’t agree with his old woman, nor she with him; and he have come to the resolution of getting rid of her. He thinks he’d be better off without a woman, than with one, ’specially with one as he can’t agree with. And she thinks any other man be better than Ned ‘Brumming.’ Such being the case, they think they had better part. Now, ‘Brumming’ wants a little money to take him over to the other side; and to rise it for him, his friends have been called together, and his woman is going to be put up at a raffle for fifty pounds – twenty-five chances at two pounds a chance. Mrs Brumming is willing to live with any man, as will support her, and use her kindly. Who is going to help poor Ned Brumming? What name shall I first put down on this ’ere paper?”

“Dirty Dick,” “Jack Rag,” “Hell Fryer,” “Shiny Bright,” and several other names were called out – to the number of twenty.

It was then announced that five names were still wanted to complete the list.

“I’ll take a chance,” said a man stepping forward to the table, where the names were being written out.

The individual thus presenting himself, bore every evidence of having obtained a passage to the colonies at the expense of his native country – about twenty-five years before.

“What name shall I put down?” asked the youthful master of the ceremonies.

“Jimmy from Town.”

“Jimmy from hell!” screamed the woman. “You had better save your money Jimmy from Town. I wouldn’t live with an old beast like you, if you were to win me ten times over.”

The prospect of losing his two pounds, and gaining nothing, caused the old convict to retire, which he did, apparently with no very good grace.

“We must pay something for this entertainment,” whispered my mate; “I will go halves with you in a chance.”

As he said this, he slipped a sovereign into my hand.

I did not fully understand what my partner meant. He surely could not be thinking of our winning the woman, and owning her in partnership, as we did our mining claim?

But as he had said something about our paying for the entertainment – and having trusted myself to him before I came away from my tent – I gave the name of “Rolly,” to the manager of the raffle, and put down the two pounds.

Two others then came forward, took a chance each, and paid their stakes. There were now only two more “tickets” to dispose of.

Amongst the first who had entered their name upon the list, was a young miner, who to all appearance, took a greater interest in the proceedings than any person present.

I saw the woman give him a glance, that might be interpreted into the words, “I wish you would win me.” He appeared to notice it, and take the hint: for he immediately entered himself for another chance.

The remaining share was then taken by somebody else; and the ceremony of throwing the dice was commenced.

Each was to have three throws, taking three dice at each throw; and the man who should score the highest number, was to win the woman.

A name would be called out, as it stood on the list; the owner of it would then come forward, and throw the dice – when the number he should score would be recorded against his name.

All the numbers made, chanced to be very low, none of them reaching over thirty-eight – until I had finished “tossing the bones,” when I was told that the aggregate recorded in my favour was forty-seven.

I felt as good as certain that the woman was mine: for the chances were more than a hundred to one against any of the five others who were to throw after me.

The young fellow who had paid for two shares, looked very blank: his remaining chance was now scarce worth a shilling.

“I will give you fifteen pounds for your throw,” said he, addressing himself to me.

I glanced at my mate, and saw him give his head a slight inclination: as a sign for me to accept the offer – which I did.

The money was paid down; and after all had finished tossing, number forty-seven was declared the winner. This had been my score. The woman, therefore, belonged to the young man, who had bought it from me. She was at once handed over to him; and inaugurated the “nuptials” by flinging her arms around his neck, and giving him a sonorous “buss” upon the cheek!

After we came away from the place, I learnt from my mate, that the affair was what he called “a sell.”

“Then why did you propose that we should take a chance?” I asked.

“Why,” he replied, with a significant shrug, “well, I’ll tell you. I was told to come to the raffle, because I was working with you – who they thought would be likely to take a share. Had you not taken one, they would have supposed that I had cautioned you not to do so; and I should have made enemies amongst some of the old hands – who look upon me as, being in all things, one of themselves.”

“And you think that the woman will not live with the young man who won her?”

“I’m sure of it. She’ll go along with him for awhile; but she won’t stay with him. She’ll run away from him – join, Brumming, again – and the two will repeat the same dodge at some other diggings.”

I divided the fifteen pounds with my partner; and retired to my tent – well pleased that I had so disposed of my chance, and no little amused at the grotesque chapter of “life on the Avoca,” it had been my fortune to be witness to.

A few weeks after the occurrence, I read in a newspaper: that the police on the Bendigo diggings had arrested a man for trying to dispose of his wife by a raffle; and I have no doubt that the man was “poor old Ned Brumming!”

Volume Three – Chapter Eight.
Caught in his Own Trap

A “claim,” adjoining the one in which my partner and I were working, was much richer than ours. The primitive rock lay farther below the surface – showing that there had been a basin in the creek, or river, that hundreds of years before had flowed over the “vale of Avoca.”

In this basin had been deposited a great quantity of earth containing gold: for the soil was thickly impregnated with the precious metal.

This claim was owned by three men. Two of them appeared to be respectable young fellows; and I incidentally learnt from them, that they had been playmates in boyhood, shipmates on their voyage to the colony, and had worked together ever since their arrival at the diggings. An old convict was the third partner of these two young men. He had first marked out the claim, and for a while kept sole possession of it; but, seeing that he would be unable to manage it by himself, he had allowed the other two to take shares in it.

They had joined the convict only for that one job; and had done so, because they could not find any other favourable opportunity for “getting on the line.”

One day, when I was standing by at the windlass of our own shaft, I saw the old convict come towards his claim – apparently after having been to his dinner.

I had observed one of the young men let himself down the shaft, but a few minutes before. Soon after, I heard his voice from below calling to the convict – who had placed himself by the windlass, after his arrival. I then saw the latter lower the rope, and hoist the young man to the surface. The old convict was then lowered down; and, as soon as he had detached himself from the rope below, I noticed that the young man hastily drew it up and in a manner that betrayed some extraordinary excitement.

“Hoist up your mate, and bring him here,” he called to me. “Quick! I’ve something terrible to tell you of.”

I called to my partner to get on the tackle; and, as soon as he had done so, I drew him up out of the shaft.

While I was doing this, the young man who had called to me, summoned some others in the same manner; and five or six men who chanced to be near, hastened up to the spot.

As soon as we were assembled around him, the young fellow began:

“I have a strange story to tell you all,” said he. “My friend has been murdered; and the man who has committed the crime is below. We have him sure. Will some one go to the ‘camp’ for the police? I shall not leave this spot, till I see the murderer in their custody, or see him dead.”

The commotion, caused by this startling announcement, brought several others to the place; and a crowd was soon collected around the claim. Two or three started off for the police encampment.

While waiting for their return, the young man, who had called us around him, gave an explanation of his conduct in having summoned us thus strangely.

“I came up out of the shaft,” said he, “about half-past eleven o’clock; and went home to cook dinner for myself and my friend. I left him along with our other mate – the murderer – who is now below, at work, stowing away some of the pipe-clay that we had finished working with. I expected him to follow me to his dinner in about half-an-hour after. I waited for him till nearly one; and as he did not come, I ate my dinner alone, and then returned here to go on with the work.

“When I came back, I could see no one. I called down the shaft, thinking both were below.

“As there was no answer, I let myself down by the rope, intending to go to work by myself. I supposed that my mates had strayed off to some grog-shop – where they might spend a good part of the afternoon. They had done this once before; and I thought they might do it again.

“After getting below, I lit the candle; and looked about to see what they had been doing, since I left them at eleven o’clock.

“The first thing that met my eyes, was the toe of a boot sticking out of the pipe-clay – where we had been stowing it away, in the worked-out part of the shaft. What, thought I, is their object in burying the boot there?

“I took hold of it – there was just enough of it protruding out of the pipe-clay to enable me to get a grasp of it. I felt that there was a foot in it. It was a boot belonging to my friend. I knew it – notwithstanding its being plastered over with the clay. I drew out the boot; and along with it the body of the man to whom it belonged. He was dead! I think it is probable he was not quite dead, when covered up; and that in his death-spasm he had somehow moved his foot, causing it to protrude a little out of the clay.

“I have no doubt,” continued the young miner, “that my seeing that boot has saved my own life: for the man who has murdered my friend, would have served me in the same way, had we both been down below, and I ignorant of what he had already done.

“Just as I was about climbing up the rope to get out, I saw the man who is now below here, preparing to let himself down. I called to him, in my natural tone of voice; and told him that I wanted to go above for a minute – to get a drink. This, no doubt, put him off his guard; and he helped me up.

“I then asked him what had become of Bill – that was my friend’s name.

“‘He did not come home to dinner,’ said I, ‘and he is not below.’

“‘When we came up to go to dinner,’ said he, ‘and were about starting away from here, I saw Bill meet a stranger, and shake hands with him. They went off together.’

“I suggested that he might probably have strayed off upon a spree; and that we were not likely to get any more work out of him that day. I added, that, after I had had my drink, we could both go below, and work without him. This seemed to please my other partner – who at once desired to be let down into the shaft.

“I lowered him at his request – telling him I should follow soon after.

“He and his victim are now in the shaft. Had he succeeded in killing both of us, he would not only have got all the gold we had obtained in the claim, but some more besides.” This story excited in the minds of all present, a feeling of horror, joined to a keen desire for retribution. Several shouted out to the old convict – commanding him to come up; that his crime was known, and escape would be impossible.

The murderer must have heard every word; but no answer was returned either to the threats or commands of those above. There was no occasion for the latter, either to be in haste, or in any way uneasy about the man making his escape. He could not possibly get clear from the trap, into which his partner had so adroitly cajoled him. He must either come out of the shaft, or starve at the bottom of it.

The policemen, soon after, arrived upon the ground; and were made acquainted with all the circumstances.

One of them hailed the convict – commanding him “in the Queen’s name” to come up.

“You are our prisoner,” said the policeman, “you cannot escape; and you may as well surrender at once.”

There was no answer.

One of the policemen then placed himself in a bowline knot at the end of the rope; and was gently lowered down into the shaft – several men standing by at the windlass.

“Hold there!” cried the convict from below. “The instant you reach the bottom, I’ll drive my pick-axe through you.”

The men at the windlass ceased turning – leaving the policeman suspended half way down the shaft.

He was a man of superior courage; and, cocking his revolver, he called to the convict: that he was going down anyhow – adding, that the first move made to molest him in the execution of his duty, would be a signal for him to blow out the brains of the man who should make it.

He then called to the miners at the windlass to “lower away.”

“Drop your pick!” shouted the policeman, as he came near the bottom of the shaft – at the same time covering the convict with his revolver.

The murderer saw the folly of resisting. It was impossible for him to escape – even could he have killed the officer, and a dozen more besides.

Some of the “Queen’s Jewellery” was soon adjusted upon his wrists; and the rope, having been fastened around his body, he was hoisted up into the light of heaven.

The policemen were going to stop, until they could examine the body of the murdered man; but they perceived that the indignation of the crowd was fast rising to such a pitch, that it was necessary for the prisoner to be carried to some place of security – else he might be taken out of their hands.

None of the spectators seemed anxious either to rescue, or kill the man. Each one appeared to be satisfied by getting a kick or blow at him. The mind of every honest miner on the ground had been shocked by the cruel crime that had been committed; and each appeared to think he had himself a score of revenge to wipe off against the perpetrator.

Each wished to calm his outraged feelings, by inflicting some chastisement upon the criminal; and still leave to the justice of God and the law, the task of punishing him for the murder.

The police did their best to protect their prisoner; but on their way to their station, they were followed by an indignant crowd of miners, who kicked and scratched the old convict, till he was nearly lifeless in their hands.

When the body of the murdered man had been brought out of the shaft, it was found that the sharp point of a pick-axe had been driven through his skull. The wound was in the back part of the head – proving that the victim had received the blow from behind, and most probably without any warning. A similar fate would undoubtedly have befallen his friend, had he not made the discovery which enabled him to avert it.

The murderer was sent down to Melbourne to be locked up, till the sitting of the Criminal Court.

The day after the funeral of the murdered man, the only one of the three partners left to work out the claim, made his appearance upon the spot.

Before commencing work, he came over to me; and we had a long conversation together.

“If I had only myself to think of,” said he, “I would have nothing farther to do with this claim. It cannot be very pleasant to me to work in it, after what has occurred. The young man who has been killed, was my playmate in boyhood, and my constant companion ever since we left home together. I shall have to carry back to his father, mother, and sisters, the news of his sad fate. His relatives are very poor people; and it took every penny they could scrape together to furnish him with the means for coming out here. My duty to them, and to his memory, is the sole cause of my continuing any longer to work the claim. However painful the task may be, I must perform it. I shall obtain all the gold it may yield; and every speck to which my murdered friend should have been entitled, shall be paid over to his relatives. I know that they had rather see himself return penniless to them, than to have all the gold of Australia; but for all that he shall not be robbed, as well as murdered.

“I have often heard him speak of the pleasure it would give him to return to his relations with his gold. I can only show my respect for his wishes, by taking them the money to which he would have been entitled, had he lived, to work out his claim. It shall be done without his aid; but his relations shall have the yield of it, all the same as if he had lived.”

Whenever the windlass was to be used in bringing up the “wash dirt” from below – or the surviving partner wanted assistance in any way – it was cheerfully rendered by the miners at work in the adjoining claims.

By the time he had completed his task, he was summoned to Melbourne, as a witness on the trial of the murderer; and, after his leaving the Avoca diggings, I saw him no more.

I afterwards learnt from the Melbourne Argus: that the old convict was found guilty of the murder, and ended his earthly existence on the gallows.