Gold, irony, and racism

Ararat, Victoria—a town that sounds more like a biblical boat pier than a bustling gold rush hotspot. Yet, there we were, in a place that was once called “Chinaman's Hole” because nothing says “Welcome to Australia” like a name that’s patronizing, xenophobic, and vaguely ominous. Actually, it’s not really all that vague, is it?

Let's go back to 1857, shall we? It's about six years since gold was first discovered in Australia's Victoria Colony, and everyone everywhere has got gold fever—a condition less deadly than smallpox but far more contagious. People were coming to Victoria from all around the world, including China. But just like back home, Big White didn’t much care for the Chinese.

So the Victorian government, in a move both boldly bureaucratic and breathtakingly racist even for its time, instituted a truly punishing Immigrant Tax on all Chinese people arriving at any Victorian port. The Chinese solution? Land in Adelaide or somewhere else in the Colony of South Australia (but, really, usually Adelaide) and—wait for it—walk to the gold fields in Victoria. That’s hundreds of miles.* And they had to carry all their stuff with them—clothing, pots and pans, mining tools, everything. Sometimes even each other.

Now might also be an excellent time to point out that South Australia is considered the Driest State on the Driest Continent on Earth. You have to know that the trek to Victoria was brutal. But, you know, gold.

In April of 1857, a group of 700 Chinese stopped near what we now know as Ararat to hang out, catch their breath, and refill their canteens from the river. Which, they noticed, had a certain gleam about it. A golden gleam. Yep, these guys had stumbled across one of the richest shallow veins of alluvial gold in history, the Canton Lead. Within a couple months, the new hamlet of Chinaman’s Hole (a name I’m guessing they didn’t create themselves) had a population of 30,000. That’s gotta strain the infrastructure. By October of that year, the town already had shops, hotels, and theaters.**

The town’s mining boom was over in three short years, but it turned itself into the seat of colonial government for the surrounding area, building churches, schools, a jail, and an asylum—all the best amenities the 19th century had to offer.***

Fast forward to the 21st century, and Ararat is no longer “Chinaman's Hole.” Now, it celebrates its gold rush history, but like that guy at the party who won't shut up about that one time he did something cool. “You know, we did it this way when I lived in the South of France,” or “I've been less anxious ever since I climbed Kilimanjaro—by myself,” or “We ran an illegal restaurant out of the house once.” Boooooring!

The Chinese influence remains, but more in the realm of festivals and museums and less in the realm of backbreaking labor and casual racism. In fact, they like to tout that theirs is the only city in Australia founded by Chinese people.

So, there you have it, another chapter in Australia's "We Really Love Gold" series. Ararat, a town born from the greed and grit of the gold rush, is now a charming little spot where history is remembered, but really only the shiny, happy, shiny parts. Join me next time, won’t you, when I'll probably be talking about another place where people found something shiny in the ground. Exciting times!