The Eureka Stockade Part 11

Ecco Troncato Il Canto Per Ritornare Al Pianto.

My letter to Mr. Archer continued:-

Thanks be to G.o.d, the day pa.s.sed 'unstained,' a glorious day for Victoria when the SOUTHERN CROSS was first unfolded on Ballaarat; gathering round itself all the oppressed of the world.

The whole purpose of the meeting was, that a Reform League be formed and fully organised to carry out the clearance of all our grievances, on the old style of the Corn Law League in Great Britain.

Next Sunday, we leaguers--( I took out a ticket of members.h.i.+p from Reynolds, one of the treasurers, and paid my 2s. 6d. on that very day, November 29th, precisely, on the platform of the meeting)--have a meeting at two o'clock at the Adelphi to organise the people and appoint a responsible executive committee. I am the old delegate to it, and therefore I shall be able to give you, Mr. Archer, a full answer to your letter of the 24th instant.

Mark this, good reader!

1. Meanwhile, privately, as an old Ballaarat hand, I beg respectfully to convey to you, to employ your influence and reach the ears of the Lieutenant Governor. The licence-fee, as a tax, is perhaps a cause of growling like any other tax in Great Britain or elsewhere in the world; but, on the gold-fields, has become an 'abomination.' The inconvenience in the Camp-insolence at our getting it, the annoyance and bore for showing it, when asked by some 'pup' of a trap whilst at our work; the imbecility and arrogance of so many commissioners and troopers uselessly employed for the purpose, etc., etc.; make the gold-licence an abomination to the honest digger. The Vandemonian, you know, never dreamt of taking out a licence, of course not.

Paramount is this grand consideration: John Bull, rather of a doggish nature, will growl to himself if left alone picking his bone: the pa.s.sport system is a bone that he will not pick; no, no ways and under no shape whatever-- I know it by experience.

2. A memorial to his Excellency for the release of the three prisoners under sentence for burning the Eureka Hotel, is, through Humffray, in course of signature. It is our earnest desire that his Excellency may show mercy; though it may appear, that he would do thus an act of justice to the diggers, considering how rightly they guessed the Bentley affair.

3. The whole pack, commissioners, troopers and traps on the Ballaarat Camp, with the exception of magistrate Hackett, are detested by the diggers: there will be eternal discontent as long as Rede and fraternity are lodging over that way. The whole Camp had better be changed at once, and entrusted to good experienced hands and honest men. Perhaps Sir Charles may turn into a Diogenes in vain--'nil desperandum.' There are now and then honest men to be found even in this colony.

Good reader, listen to me: I shall tell you no lie: do not lose sight of the above letter: I intend to give the end in the next chapter: meanwhile, fill the pipe, let's have a 'blow' together.

Chapter x.x.xIII.

Mistero! S'Apre Mendacia, Violente Strada Maestra In Citta E Campagna: La Verita, Se Docile, Quadagna A Pa.s.so Lo Stradello Lentamente.

(Translated in the text of my first chapter.)

On Thursday morning, November 30th, at sunrise, I was at my work, as usual.

I a.s.sert, as an eye-witness, that most of the hands on the Eureka came to their work, and worked as usual.

Whilst having a 'blow,' we would talk over again about the monster meeting of yesterday, thus spinning a yarn in the usual colonial style.

The general impression was, that as soon as government knew in Melbourne the real state of the excited feelings of the diggers, the licence-hunt would be put a stop to.

Towards ten o'clock was my hour for a working-man's breakfast.

I used to retire to my tent from the heat of the mid-day, and on that same Thursday I set about, at once, to end my letter to Mr. Archer, because I was anxious to forward it immediately to Melbourne.

Good reader, I copy now, word for word, the scrawl then penned, in great haste and excitement.

Thursday, November 30th, 1854.

Just on my preparing to go and post this letter, we are worried by the usual Irish cry, to run to Gravel-pits. The traps are out for licences, and playing h.e.l.l with the diggers. If that be the case, I am not inclined to give half-a-crown for the whole fixtures at the Camp.

I must go and see 'what's up.

Always your affectionate, (Signed) CARBONI RAFFAELLO.

(To) W. H. ARCHER, Esq., Acting Registrar-General, Melbourne.

Why this identical letter of mine--now in the hands of James Macpherson Grant, M.L.C., Solicitor, Collins-street, where it will remain till Christmas for inspection, to be then returned to the owner--was not produced at my STATE TRIAL, was, and is still, a MYSTERY to me!

Let's run to Bakery-hill.

Chapter x.x.xIV.

Quos Vult Perdere Deus Dementat.

What's up? a licence hunt; old game. What's to be done? Peter Lalor was on the stump, his rifle in his hand, calling on volunteers to 'fall in'

into ranks as fast as they rushed to Bakery-hill, from all quarters, with arms in their hands, just fetched from their tents. Alfred, George Black's brother, was taking down in a book the names of divisions in course of formation, and of their captains.

I went up to Lalor, and the moment he saw me, he took me by the hand saying, "I want you, Signore: tell these gentlemen, (pointing to old acquaintances of ours, who were foreigners) that, if they cannot provide themselves with fire-arms, let each of them procure a piece of steel, five or six inches long, attached to a pole, and that will pierce the tyrants' hearts."

Peter of course spoke thus in his friendly way as usual towards me.

He was in earnest though. The few words of French he knows, he can p.r.o.nounce them tolerably well, but Peter is no scholar in modern languages; therefore he then appointed me his aide-de-camp, or better to say his interpreter, and now I am proud to be his historian.

Very soon after this, all the diggers 'fell in' in file of two-a-breast, and marched to the Eureka.

Captain Ross of Toronto, was our standard-bearer. He hoisted down the Southern Cross from the flag-staff and headed the march.

Patrick Curtain, the chosen captain of the pikemen, gave me his iron pike, and took my sword to head his division; I 'fell in' with John Manning who also had a pike, and all of us marched in order to the Eureka.

I a.s.sert as an eye-witness, that we were within one thousand in the rank with all sort of arms, down to the pick and shovel.

We turned by the Catholic church, and went across the gully. Of this I have perfect recollection: when the 'Southern Cross' reached the road leading to the Eureka on the opposite hill, the file of two-a-breast crossing the gully, extended backwards up to the hill where the Catholic church stands.

I took notice of the circ.u.mstance at the time.

We reached the hill where was my tent. How little did we know that some of the best among us had reached the place of their grave! Lalor gave the proper orders to defend ourselves among the holes in case the hunt should be attempted in our quarters.

The red-tape was by far too cunning this time; redcoats, traps and troopers had retired to the Ballaarat Camp, and wanted a 'spell.'

We determined, however, to put an end to their accursed licence-hunting, mock riot-act chopping, Vandemonian shooting down our mates in Gravel-pits.