Being the story of the association of Bernhard Otto
Holtermann, with Beaufoy Merlin and with Charles Bayliss
and of the photographic collection which resulted therefrom.
"
Among these was gold. It is a very remarkable act that
a soft
metal, of relatively slight intrinsic value,
should have exerted an influence so profound and far-reaching,
both for good and ill, throughout the whole history
of civilisation. The significance of gold does not
depend
wholly upon the fact that it has become the material
of currency, the substance by which, standards o monetary
value and exchange are estimated. That did not happen
until the metal had been treasured for nearly thirty
centuries. The metal
represents something more than mere riches; its influence
pervades
our common speech, in which it has become the usual
token of excellence and uprightness, and in religious
literature
a symbol of immortality and untarnished incorruptibly.
No other substance-not even the pearl-has acquired
such a glamour."
G.
ELLIOT SMITH in "Human
History."
"Silver
then seemed doomed to bring with it a never-ending
chain of death and destruction. There were the early
difficulties of settlers, the fighting and quarrelling
in Potosi, the attacks. on the river ports, more
fighting
and the burning of caravels during transport, the
depopulation Of Spain, and the consequent ruin of
her industries.
When did this unparalleled treasure profit? We
have seen how colonists poured their money away with
high gestures.
To what use did the kings of Spain put their wealth?
A large part went to finance the endless wars -that
Spaniards sustained in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries
with practically every country in Europe; with
France, Germany, Flanders, and England."
ENA
DARGAN in "The Road to Cuzco."
Chapter
Two - Bernhard Otto Holtermann
It would
be an interesting study for some research scholar to
endeavour to record just to what
purposes were put the vast sums that were won from
the
earth in
the days. of Australia's famous gold rushes. Much of it was frittered
away, of course, for few prospectors were accustomed
to the possession of great
wealth and, in any case, the avenues for
investment were nothing like as extensive
as they are in these days of unlimited gilt-edged and industrial
stocks. Likewise not many of the rich gold-miners
died
still wealthy men, but Holtermann was
one of them - and he used some of his wealth to good effect.
In
our time of liberal thought we must pause a moment
to cast
our minds back to life as it was in Prussia one hundred
years ago.
In the words
of James
Sime, "the German people felt that they were most unjustly
separated from the main spirit of western progress ... political
reaction continued with unabated
force . . . the Government appeared resolved to oppose the popular
will by the utmost violence on which it could venture." It
was a time of both major and petty despotisms, the beginning
of the Bismarck
era and
all that
it stood for; life was becoming progressively more difficult
for the upper middle classes-above all, for the younger generation
which had
to face the
prospect of three years compulsory service in the rigidly-disciplined
Prussian army.
Although
Bernhard was one of many young men who preferred the
path of exile and the uncertainties of emigration,
we must not
assume from
such a decision
that he was a man lacking in fortitude. On the contrary, we
shall see that he was possessed of an amazing spirit,
of an indomitable
will
to carry
on despite the gravest difficulties, of exceptional bravery
in the face of the many accidents
that befell him, and of a goodly share of that singular quality
of courage that characterised so many of the pioneers of his
day.
Bernhard
Otto Holtermann was born at Hamburg, in northern Germany,
on the 29th April, 1838, the son of T. H.
Holtermann. During
his early youth he
was for
five years employed in the mercantile house of Holtermann & Kopke,
under the care of his uncle, H. H. Holtermann. The city of
his birth had been for
many years, and still was, in spite of Prussian reaction, the
centre of learning in Europe.
By
the time he had attained the age of nineteen
he had made his
great decision, and was soon aboard a vessel bound for
Liverpool. England was reached on April 15th, 1858,
but he remained there
only long enough
to secure
a steerage passage for Australia; the vessel was the Salem,
under Captain Watt, and the sailing day, by what must have
seemed a happy
omen, was
his birthday.
But the omen was far from what it appeared, for it was
twelve long years before much in the way of happiness
or achievement
was to
come his way.
On
the very first day out his foot was in used by a displaced
baulk
of timber which fell down a hatchway. There was
no medical care
aboard the
ship, but
a kindly
negro cook watched over him; when he was able to move
about again, Bernhard volunteered to help his somewhat
overworked
benefactor/guardian - an
arrangement
approved of by the captain, himself a good-natured friendly
man. A few weeks later he volunteered for a rather more
serious responsibility.
When the Salem
was a few weeks' out from Liverpool, disease broke out
on board. Four
of the ship's complement were buried at sea - in as many
days. Bernhard had some
knowledge
of medicine, but he hesitated to make it known in circumstances
where the burden of responsibility would fall so heavily
upon his young,
shoulders. Nevertheless,
when a woman passenger became so ill that it seemed certain
she would die
within a few hours, the young man was encouraged to test
his skill. The response
was almost instantaneous, and henceforth Bernhard was
entrusted with the responsibility for the health of
all on board,
a duty that he
was able to
perform so well
that not another case of serious sickness developed throughout
the rest of the voyage.(1)
The
Salem arrived at Melbourne in August, 1858, having
taken one hundred and one days for the voyage. Bernhard
soon engaged
another passage
by the ship
City of Sydney and a few days later reached his destination
at the capital city of that name. Disembarking in the
evening, he
strode the streets
of Sydney like
many another immigrant before him, completely bewildered,
for he had made no plans as to what he was going to
do
on his arrival;
he had
not even
realised
what a handicap his inability to speak the English
language would represent.
A
fellow countryman gave him shelter and counselled him
to accept any available
occupation with a view to saving
some
money. This
he did,
trying his hand,
in quick succession, as a steward on a small island
trader, as a photographer's assistant, and as a groom
at a large
North Sydney
home; and then, at
last, a position appeared which offered some degree
of permanence. The job was
only the humble one of a waiter at a King Street
(Sydney) hotel, by name The
Hamburg, but, apart from the coincidence of the
name, it was to prove a turning point in his life.
It
appeared that
the establishment
was one
greatly
favoured by goldminers, and young Bernhard took
every opportunity of
talking to these prospectors and learning
everything that he could; in this way he was able
to piece together a picture
of life
on
the gold-fields-and
also
to learn
much of the rudiments of prospecting. The miners
talked of many gold-bearing areas,
but there was one whose strange name seemed to
exercise something of a magical influence-and that
name was
Tambaroora. At The
Hamburg, too,
he
gained the
close friendship of one of the young miners, by
name Louis Beyers - an association that was destined
to
last for many
years and to be
mutually valued.
Apart
from that, there was something in his new friend's
personality that added fuel to
young Bernhard's natural impatience. Capital
or no capital, he felt that he must, at once, set out
for
that rich
gold-field with the magical-sounding
name.
Once on that spot, alas, most of the magic seemed
to have vanished. Days,
months and years passed with the scantiest of
rewards,
and yet,
somehow or other,
just when he was at the point of abandoning everything,
some small quantity of gold would appear in
his dish and keep
alive his faith,
a faith that
grew with time into a veritable fever.
He
prospected and mined, he mined and prospected-sometimes
as a lone worker, sometimes in company with
his
good friend Beyers. In between, hunger forced him
to take
many other
and odd pursuits.
Gradually
things seemed
to be improving and then seemed to be growing
worse. He tried almost everything - hotel-keeping,
butchering and baking;
at
one stage he was
reduced to ferrying travellers
across the Macquarie at Root Hog crossing in
a
boat converted from a baker's mixing
trough. He tried mining again, only to become
the victim of a blasting accident that was
to leave him for
many months
lingering
between life
and death(2).
But
the gold still called. He worked on one of
his old shafts and joined in new propositions
. . . then
at long
long last
... suddenly ... in
the claim
of Beyers and Holtermann, a rich vein was
struck(3), one that
gave 1,400 ounces of gold from the
first 28 tons
of stone.
Overnight the two partners
and their
fellow shareholders became wealthy men, able
to indulge their every whim.
Louis
Beyers with smaller specimens of reef gold
from the syndicate's
mine. (Photograph
by Merlin)
