Non Nobis, Non Nobis, Sed Pax Vobiscum.
It was eight o'clock. Drilling was going on as on the previous day.
Father Smyth came inside the stockade: it was my watch. He looked
very earnest, a deep anxiety about the hopelessness of our struggle,
must have grieved his Irish heart. He obtained permission from Lalor
to speak to those under arms, who belonged to his Congregation.
Vern consented, and Manning announced it to the men. Father Smyth told them,
that the government Camp was under arms, some seven or eight hundred strong;
that he had received positive information, that government had sent
other reinforcements from Melbourne, which would soon reach Ballaarat;
warned them against useless bloodshed; reminded them that they were Christians;
and expressed his earnest desire to see all of them at Mass
on the following (Sunday) morning.
Father Smyth, your advice was kindly received; if it did not thrive,
was it because you sowed it on barren ground?
The following document may in time help to bring forth truth to light:-
Colonial Secretary's Office,
Melbourne, lst December, 1854.
Rev. Sir,
In acknowledging the receipt of your letter of
yesterday's date, I am desired by his Excellency
to thank you for the earnest efforts which, in your
professional calling, you are making to allay the
disturbances. Unless the government enforce the
laws which may be in operation, disorder and
licentiousness must prevail.
You know a commission is issued for the purpose
of inquiring into the state and condition of the
digging population: until they make their report,
the laws his Excellency found in force must be
obeyed.
I have the honour to be, Rev. Sir,
Your most obedient servant,
J. MOORE, A.C.S.
The Rev. Patrick Smyth,
Catholic Priest, Ballaarat.
Chapter XLVIII.
The Things We Ardently Wish For In This Life, Either Never Come To Pass,
Or If They Do It Is Too Late. Hence, 'Better Late Than Never.'
The whole of the morning passed off as quietly as any well wisher to our cause
could desire. Towards twelve o'clock it was our decision that licence-hunting
was over, for the day any how, since no digger recollected a search for licence
taking place on a Saturday afternoon. Our talk was of the coming meeting
of the reform league at two o'clock on Sunday, at the Adelphi, as announced
at the monster meeting on Wednesday.
The impression was almost general, that 'Charley' would soon dismiss
the hated brood of our commissioners, and things would then be 'all right.'
'Off to get a bite,' was the pass-word.
I assert as a matter of fact, and a living eye-witness, that between
one and two o'clock on Saturday, December 2nd, 1854, the Eureka stockade
was comparatively deserted. Those who remained (some one hundred) were such,
as either had a long distance to go to reach their tents, and the day
was very hot, or such as had no tent or friend on Ballaarat. I took notice
of this very circumstance from my tent, the second from the stockade,
on the hill, west, whilst frying a bit of steak on the fire of my tent chimney,
facing said stockade: Manning was peeling an onion. I transcribe the above
from the identical note I had taken down on my diary, at the identical hour
aforesaid, and can afford to challenge contradiction.
Chapter XLVIX.
Taedet Animam Meam Vitae Meae.
The news of our private, though never acknowledged, disbandment
must soon have reached the Camp.
THE LORD GOD OF ISRAEL UNRAVEL THE MYSTERY.
What a nonsense of mine to endeavour to swell up the Eureka stockade
to the level of a Sebastopol!!
Good reader, I have to relate the story of a shocking murder, a disgrace
to the Christian name.
I am a Catholic, and believe in the life everlasting. On the day of judgment
it will go milder with the Emperor Nicholas, than with the man
whoever he may be, that prompted and counted on the Eureka massacre
on the Sunday morning, December 3rd, 1854.
At four o'clock, the diggers crowded again towards the stockade.
The divisions of Ross and Nealson had returned from their excursions
and were under arms. The scene became soon animated, and the usual drilling
was pushed on with more ardour than ever.
John Basson Humffray, of whom nothing was seen or heard since the previous
Wednesday, now introduced, through a letter in his own handwriting;
addressed 'To the Commander-in-Chief of the armed diggers, Eureka,'
a Doctor Kenworthy, as surgeon, because he (Humffray) feared that a collision
between the diggers and the military would soon take place.
Peters, the spy, was at the same time within the stockade.
The 'surgeon' had his Yankee face under a bell-top (French hat): he entered
into conversation with me in person. I had my sword in hand, and was on watch.
We began to talk about MAZZINI and Captain FORBES: this latter,
a brave American officer, fought in the late struggle at Rome (1848).
I perfectly recollect, that, pointing with a smile to our barricade,
I told this Kenworthy, we had thrown them up for our defence against
licence-hunting. There is a living witness to the above circumstance,
a countryman of mine, whose name I do not remember just now, but he wore
at the time a red shirt, with picks and shovels all over it.
Previous to this, Vern, whose silly vanity would by no means allow him
to put up with his not having been elected Commander-in-Chief, all on a sudden
cried out in his sort of bombast, "Here they are coming, boys: now I will
lead you to death or victory!" - actually a band of men was tramping
full speed towards the stockade.
Chapter L
Narravere Patres Nostri
Et Nos Narravimus Omnes.
Was it then the long, long-looked for German Rifle Brigade?
