THE MINING MANIA AT SANDHURST.

Tuapeka Times, Volume III, Issue 197, 9 November 1871, Page 7

THE MINING MANIA AT SANDHURST.

The " Argus " devotes four columns' of its issue of' the 16th October to a well-written and lively account of " Saturday night at Sandhurst." We will not follow the writer in his lengthy description of his journey by rail from the metropolis to Sandhurst, and of the people he met, and must content ourselves with a passing notice of' " The Mall, the roadway of which represents a mass of humanity standing with its hands in his pockets, apparently doing nothing." Although there are over 3000 persons congregated in the street, no shouting is heard; for though the intensest° excitement prevails, it is part of the game of speculation to affect the true gambler's indifference. . " The rapid walk which betokens anxiety, the fixed far-seeing gaze which denotes meutal preoccupation, the twitching fingers that fumble with the metallic leaves, the hot dry hands, the incessantly renewed cigar, these are the signs by which we know the' men who are risking their fortunes of yesterday upon the chances of to-morrow. ' I have not been to bed for two nights,' said one of these. ' I shan't go to bed tonight either if this keeps up ; every hour of sleep is a dead loss to me.' He departs, and your contributor, splashing desolately through the red mud, meets him at the angle of the white fence again. 'I have made a hundred since' l saw you last,' he says; ' let us drink.' c I have a letter for Mr. Blank, who has promised to show me the ropes, 1 is your contributor's reply. ' I have been looking in vain for him ; where is he ?' 'In there,' says the maker of hundreds, poiuting to the whirlpool under the Victoria verandah. We plunge in to seek him, and to drink. It is like plunging into the maelstrom. Miners, with heavy boats yellow with the ugly soil of the rich earth, tramp upon our toes. Redshirted men drive crimson elbows into our ribs. White-faced sitters up all night hurl themselves past us. Bedfaced consumers of Victoria's brandy burst out upon us gasping. But ail is serious, silent, business-like. There is no swearing, nor cursing." A little further on is Sandhurst's "corner." On the left hand rises the Shamrock, a great ant-hill, out of whose many doors pour forth human figures in unceasing streams. The steps of the Shamrock, projecting into the corner of the street, are black on two sides with loitering crowds. Masses of men — tired, perhaps, with the money-mak-ing of the morning — blacken the upper gallery of the Shamrock, roosting there, as it were, like rooks in iron boughed elms. Prom this corner to the stained window of the Victoria trails the muddy crowd, seeming, from the spot where your contributor stands, like a black scarf flung upon a bank of red mud. The shop of Mr. " Joseph, jeweller," midway between the Shamrock and the Victoria, is besieged, not so much that folks desire to buy diamond rings and emerald bracelets, but that the doorway offers a convenient harbour where the " latest transaction " may be noted in redlined pocket-books, or the recently delivered scrip counted by trembling thumbs scarcely wetted by lips all too dry. The sale-yards, next the Victoria, where an impossibly prancing horse violates the law of gravitation to the glory of Messrs. Benson and M'Closky, has become a' sort of byewash to the Victoria itself. Its muddy entrance is choked with miners, who, leaning their broad backs against the white washed wall, declaim against the speculators of Melbourne and Ballarat, who " rig the market," to the discomfiture oif the Bsndigonians." Two more extracts, and we have done. The first is descriptive of the scene about the banks : — Behind the iron bars of the Bank of Victoria is a mass of Garden G-ully amalgam, ticketed 9-s7 ozs. The Union Bank displays 140 ozs. from the Victoria company, and 606 ozs. from the Cariiste company — these are result of 14 days' crushing, and motley groups of brokers, miners, and draggletailed women come, stare, and depart. In the banks themselves lights are already burning ; they will not finally close until midnight. It is rumoured that " results " of certain long-looked for " meltings " will be declared at that hour. Men, hearing this, rush to negotiate about a special train, which the railway authorities, wisely provident of its servants, are, by-and-bye, reported to have refused. The bank clerks complain that they are knocked up, hinting, however, of compensating fortune in the way of " lucky hits." One yonng gentleman, on a four days' leave from Melbourne, is credited with having ina<jle £1000. It is stated that a small tobacconist made £1800 ; and that a barmaid bought for £10 a share that is now worth £500. Your contributor is told that Mr. Eobinson is worth £30,000, and that -Mr. Heffernan, who owns the Shamrock, has been offered £40,000 to sell and has declined ; while he saw a man who was credited with owning £3000, and who had been driving a cab, on wages, a week before. One unlucky fellow laments that having bought certain stock, aud neglecting to cash up in the heat of pursuing another " good thiug," he finds the scrip withdrawn, and hears that it was sold at a rise of 14s pep share on the price of the previous evening^

The most remarkable scene is in the

" long room " of the JShamrockj where

the bulk of the shareholders have congregated. It ia nearly half-past eight, and the excitement may be considered to be at its height. An accident may cause it to- ebb or- flow, but the steady pressure that is on now will probably last the evening. Groups of men sit, stand, or lounge at the tables. These groups are composed of the most motley elements. Well-dressed brokers are cheek by jowl with working miners. Tobacconists, pawnbrokers, and hairdressers are to be seen here and there. The room is- -.free to all. Are they not speculators, and no diploma is needed for the profession of mqney-getting ? Few people are drinking — let your contributer here remark that amid all the" excitement he saw n6 -one drunken — but most of them are smoking. The game requires one to keep one's head cool and one's brain alert .evidently. The mass ia ever slowly shifting, and the same whispered murmur runs around. Indeed, this whispering characterises the crowd, rendering it distinct from other crowds composed of outwardly similar elements. JNFo one desires to appeal 1 eager, few deign to seem interested. Each would have it thought that he alone holds the key to unlock the golden coffers, that he alone knows the " latest information," and possesses the stock most sought after.; An air of expectation arches every brow, turns every eye anxiously to the door. The very silence was the acme of excitement. The nerves of each onto were so highly strung that no low note of vulgar interest could awake an echo from them. "I muat go out," said one man, " this excitement makes me sick." "I am going to Melbourne tonight," said another, " that I may see a sober man again ; we are all mad here or next door to it." In. the streets — strangely yellow from the rushing rain — was the same state of public feeling. The people seemed either stunned or hysterically elevated. The Victoria was doublj thronged; men sat, stood, smoked, and listened in corners, or in masses, with the same air of agonised expectation. There was little drinkiug and no merriment. The shops, open and lighted, were all thronged. No one seemed poor — all were comfortably dressed, all had money to spend and spare, liaggedness and dirt — if raggedness exists in this wonderful golden city — had slunk away, had crawled into the bark cabins far out upon the flats, or camped beneath the young gum-trees that fringed the burrowed diggings. Seated in a comfortable corner of a railway carriage, with five gentlemen playing 100 on a square cushion, your contributor viewed the notes . from which thia sketch was compiled, and was ashamed to see how feeble a notion he had achieved of the marvellous picture at which he liad been so long staring. Exaggeration would be impossible in describing the scene ; the description falls far short of the reality. " Never," said an old Bendigonian, " did I see such a sight. The wildest of the old times were tame to this methodical madness/