Stories of the Cornish Miners

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Australian Newspapers Service  - http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article3849360  -  Printed in The Argus Melbourne  ~  Saturday 16^th April 1927

THE "COUSIN JACKS."

PIONEERS OF BENDIGO.

STORIES OF THE CORNISH MINERS.

By H. A. DAVIES

When old Bendigonians meet they often speak with regret of the balmy days of the field, the days when hundreds of mines were producing hundreds of thousands of pounds' worth of gold each year. Stories are told of the men who spent their lives underground, and 90 per cent. of these tales relate to the Cornish miners. These men came to Australia in large numbers in the "fifties," "sixties," and "seventies," and from them young Bendigonians learnt the art of forcing the reluctant earth to give   up its treasure. It might be expected that men whose daily task was the painfully slow process of blasting their way through cement like rock would be as dour and hard as the elements with which they fought, but the contrary was the case. The "Cousin Jack," as he was called, possessed a volatile and resilient character, a ready wit, and an acute sense of humour. True the unconscious humour provided some of the most amusing stories of the goldfields, but it was generally agreed among those who knew them best that not even the Irish surpassed them in repartee, in the ability to frame instantly an explanation or excuse in any set of unforeseen circumstances, and in resourcefulness in the emergencies constantly arising underground. 

This temperament was due not only to their Celtic ancestry, but also to association over more than 2,000 years with other races. Before the Saxons invaded the east coast of England, and even before the Roman conquest, the Phoenicians were carrying on a regular trade with Cornwall, taking tin and copper in return for manufactured goods. Hebrew words proving an ancient intercourse with the Jews have been found by investigators. These include the place names of Phillack, Manac-can (or Menachan), Zephni, Marazion, and Bonithon (or Bonython), formerly the family seat of Sir Langdon Bonython, of  Adelaide. It has been observed that the Carthaginian and Phoenician languages were but dialects of the Hebrew. There are Cornish words in use to-day which provide evidence of Spanish intercourse. The custom, differing so much from that prevailing in the rest of England, of calling old people, by way of respect, "uncle" and "aunt," instead of "grandfather" and "grandmother," is also peculiar to Spain.  It is believed that there is no country other than Spain (and mostly in Andalusia there) where the custom prevails among the common people of addressing old persons in this manner. Having carried on mining operations for more than 2,000 years, Cornish miners coined a number of technical terms for application to the industry, and these are used in the gold, copper, and silver-lead mines of Australia to-day - for the Cornishman seldom sought work in collieries. A description of the mining industry in Cornwall, written before the discovery of gold in Australia, contains many terms familiar to the Australian miner to-day. Shaft, lode, level, winze, stopes, sollars, flucan, gad, and grass (for surface) were used then, and they bore the same meanings as they bear to-day.

ROUND PASTY POINT.

About the time of the gold discoveries in Victoria mining was not very profitable in Cornwall, and large numbers of Cornish men migrated to Australia from the districts of Camborne and Redruth. On arrival they moved toward Bendigo, in Victoria, and Wallaroo and Moonta, in South Australia. Forming self-contained communities, they impinged so little upon the outside world that the first generation of their Australian-born descendants was reared in a strong Cornish atmosphere and grew up speaking the dialect of their parents. These were called "Colonial Cousin Jacks." Most of the residents of Long Gully, California Gully, and Happy Valley in Bendigo, and, particularly that area known as St. Just Point—irreverently termed Pasty Point by some—were Cornish people, and their soft and fascinating dialect could always be heard in the Methodist chapels nearby and in the hotels, for the Cornishman was attached both to the Bible and to beer. Not many drank to excess, but most of the men who worked in dusty stopes considered that a pint or two of beer after they had "knocked off" loosened the quartz particles in the   throat more effectually than water.  It is doubtful whether any of the old Cornish miners are working at Bendigo now.  Mining was always an unhealthy occupation, and the mortality from miners' phthisis, after the introduction of machine rock drills, became higher than ever. But 20 years ago, when I spent a brief period in the Bendigo mines, there were a good many  "Cousin Jacks" on the field. There was never a dull moment in their company.   Most of the Bendigo mines at that time were managed by Cornish mine "captains." Such men as "Cap'n Dick Williams" of the   Johnson's Reef "Jan" Hooper of the Virginia, and "Boss" Pryor, of the Garden Gully, were as well known as the town clock. Mr. John Hooper was a picturesque sight, driving from Eaglehawk to Bendigo  to attend the fortnightly directors' meeting of the Virginia Co. He was a splendid figure. Tall, with a flowing black beard, wearing a frock coat and top hat, and driving an expensive buggy drawn by a high-spirited horse, he was regarded with awe by all the small boys along the route. On the mine itself the manager was king - generally a benevolent despot who often thought that his authority extended beyond the boundaries of the lease, for did not one of the old time mine "captains" inform his employees that failure to buy their beer at an adjoining hotel, kept by a son-in-law, might involve dismissal. But mostly they were amiable autocrats, whom their countrymen working underground felt free to advise on the best methods of carrying on operations. Often the manager and his men would carry on a heated argument if their views differed. I recollect one old Cornishman who, each morning when the manager and shift boss were making their inspection of the workings, would find fault with what was being done. After a particularly lively exchange one day, the "cap'n" said in exasperation, "A'   doant knaw what's matter with 'ee, Harry   booy. Thee's never satisfied onless thee's arguin.'" "Ain't naw blame upon me,  Cap'n," replied Harry, "I becant quarlsome A niver argues when I'm by misself."      

SOME UNCONSCIOUS HUMORISTS.

The Bendigo Miners' Association, as it was then called, had become a fairly strong body by the beginning of the present century, but its membership did not include all the miners working on the field. Most of the "Cousin Jacks" were staunch unionists, but some had declined the invitation to join the association. One of these was Henry Hoskin, known as "Uncle Ennie" Hoskin. Had he been approached properly "Uncle Ennie" might have joined,   but the request was made by a tactless mine  steward and was couched in the form of a demand. This brought out all "Uncle Ennie's" obstinacy. "Ef," he said to a small group afterwards, "Joe Ooze (Hughes) 'ad    kaped a civil tongue in is 'ade, an' axed me in a becomin' manner to jine, I'd a'bliged un, blithe's a burd, but now,' he added, "I'll zee un danned fust!" Angry at "Uncle Ennies" refusal to join the union some of his fellow workers tried the effect of irritation tactics, such as hiding his clothes in the changing house, tying knots in them and making him the target of numerous insulting remarks. One day, while waiting for the smoke to clear away after firing out, "Uncle Ennie" unburdened himself to his mate, one of the few men in the mine who would work with him. Being a religious man, "Uncle" used many forcible quotations from the Bible, mainly from the Old Testament, and finished up a recital of his grievances against the unionists by saying fervently, "and a'tell 'ee wot, matey!   Ef I were the Loord fer five minits, I'd mow they beggars down in thousands!"  A favourite story is that of the Cousin Jack miner who was given a boy to assist  him in some timbering. After a few weeks he approached the shift boss with the request that he be given another boy."'E be no good to I" said the timber man. "Can't understand it 'tall. i've taught un all I d'knaw, an' now a' dawn't  knaw nothin'.'"  The shift boss at one of the mines on the New Chum line had received instructions that, in the event of an accident, he was to fill in a certain printed form. Some time afterwards one of the miners was killed by a fall of earth.  Old Eli Tregooze, the shift boss, found   the work of filling in the report not at all to his liking, but he got along fairly well until he came to the final space opposite the question "Remarks." Eli thought  for some time, and then wrote, "He never made none." Eli, when a firing out in a crosscut revealed a rich reef, reported excitedly to the manager that the quartz contained pennyweight specks, cap'n, as big as y'fist. There was another old Cornish-man working on the Garden Gully line noted for his insatiable appetite for Cornish pasties. For his lunch each day, or, as he called it, for "krowst," he would bring an immense pasty about 18in. long.  He was a man who looked ahead, for, as a young man, on the point of leaving Cornwall for Australia, he had tattooed on his chest his mother's recipe for making a Cornish pasty. Later on, this was of great assistance to his Australian-born wife.  "Cousin Hugh John" was another source of merriment to the young miners. "Cousin  Hugh" greatly tickled the surface staff of one of the Moon group of mines by sending up a "tally," or message (generally  scratched with a nail on a smooth piece of slate rock, the surface of which had been blackened by being held over a candle)  to the effect that a piece of timber sent down to him was "too long, wan end."  The other end, apparently, was long enough! When Cousin Hugh's son became  a player in one of the Bendigo bands the old man proudly told a neighbour of the fact, "What instrument does 'a play?"  inquired his friend. "A' dawn't knaw  'zactly wot 'e d' call un," replied Cousin Hugh, "but I d'call un a 'forth an' too'," at the same time putting one hand to his mouth and thrusting the other forth and drawing it back in imitation of a trombone player.

While most of the Cornish were most hospitable and generous, there were a few exceptions. It was a common saying in Bendigo that the "Cousin Jacks" were open-handed and liberal, but that a mean one was tight-fisted indeed. But even these possessed the saving grace of humour. An amusing story is told of one extremely close "Cousin Jack" who had amassed a large amount of money. He was approached by a relative, with whom he had grown up in Cornwall, and whom he had induced to come to Bendigo, with a request for the loan of 100 Pound with which to buy horses for the purpose of taking a contract to cart quartz. "I bin to bank manager" he said, "and manager ses t' me, 'Certainly, Mr. Botallack,' ses'e. "This yere paper,' 'e ses, 'is called a bill. Eli Odgers be your cousin. Gid Eli t' putt 'is name t' back ov un, an' I'll give 'ee money to wance'. "I be 'shamed ov 'ee,  Jan," replied the man of wealth. "'Ere  be I, y' cousin, and you go 'long to bank  manager fust." Then after a pauses - "I'll   tell 'ee what I'll do. Go backlong t' bank, manager and gid he t' putt his name back ov bill, an' I'll be scat ef I doan' give 'ee 100 Pound misself."

AMONG THE "LOCALS."

Most of the Cornish people in Bendigo were dissenters. They formed several Methodist sects, which included the Wesleyan Methodists, the Primitive Methodists, and a few other offshoots from the main Wesleyan branch. Fundamentalists to a man, they believed implicitly in the Bible, leaning strongly to the stern theology of the Old Testament. This was well illustrated by the reply of one of the trustees of a chapel to a clergyman who reproved him for nourishing a grudge against a member of the congregation who had "despitefully used him." "Jesus Christ tells us," said the minister, 'to love our enemies and to forgive unto seventy times seven." "Does 'A," replied the trustee "Well a' dawnt think any the' more ov un f' that." Wherever there were a few adherents the Methodists built a chapel, leaving the services to be conducted by local preachers, with a service perhaps once a month by the minister. The local preachers were sincere, but, in many cases, utterly uneducated men. Often they were working miners. Then sermons were frequently based on texts dealing with eternal punishment, and these fairly reeked of brimstone. The ambition of many a "Cousin Jack" was to become a local preacher, and once he attained his object he became a person of great importance.  The "locals" were not above giving the Deity advice on occasions. This was once done by an old Cornishman, who called upon the Lord to descend in person to clean up the "iniquitous" city of Rome,  the activities of the Vatican having caused great consternation in "Pasty Point."  Doubt of the efficiency of the Devil was expressed by another local preacher, whose  discourse was continually being interrupted by the giggling and shuffling of a group of boys seated in the back of the chapel. He glared at them several times without result. Finally, in desperation he raised his eyes to heaven and fervently remarked, "Oh, Loord! Ef th' Devil doan't  take these yere boys, wot good is 'a!" Intense feeling was engendered in another chapel by the selection of the junior of  the two local preachers in the congregation to conduct a special service. The senior "local" was a bitterly disappointed man, and he did not hide his chagrin. The great day came and the proud junior preached to an over-flowing congregation. Feeling that the olive branch should be offered in circumstances in which it could hardly be refused at the "after meeting" he called upon  "Brother Penvores" to lead the worshippers in prayer." I weant do naw such thing," called out the disappointed one. "Do un y'self, Jan Henry Pawkinharne. Ef I can't preach I weant pray!" The good old days of Bendigo mining have gone, and they have taken with them the Cornish miners. Old Bendigonians regret the passing of both. The Cornish have had a great influence in the development of the city, and though the third and fourth generation of Bendigonians are now growing up one occasionally hears among the youngsters quaint words and phrases brought out by their ancestors from Cornwall. When the last of the fast decaying poppet-legs has vanished, and the mullock heaps have been hidden under vegetation, these will still remain as a reminder of a hardy and industrious generation.

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