Salvum Fac Populum Tuum Domine.
The more the pity - I have not done yet with the accursed gold licence.
I must prevail on myself to keep cooler and in good temper.
Two questions will certainly be put to me:-
1st. Did the camp officials give out the licence to the digger at the place
of his work, whenever required, without compelling him to leave off work,
and renew his licence at the camp?
2nd. It was only one day in each month that there was a search for licences,
was it not? Why therefore did not the diggers make it a half-holiday
on the old ground, that "all work and no play, makes Jack a dull boy."
The first question is a foolish one, from any fellow-colonist who knows
our silver and gold lace; and is a wicked one, from any digger who was
on Ballaarat at the time.
'Fellah' gave the proper answer through the 'Ballaarat Times',
October 14th; - here it is: -
To the Editor of the 'Ballaarat Times', October 14, 1854.
Sir,
Permit me to call your attention to the miserable accommodation
provided for the miner, who may have occasion to go to the Camp
to take out a licence. Surely, with the thousands of pounds
that have been expended in government buildings, a little better
accommodation might be afforded to the well disposed digger,
who is willing to pay the odious tax demanded of him by government,
and not be compelled to stand in the rain or sun, or treated as if
the 'distinguished government official' feared that the digger
was a thing that would contaminate him by a closer proximity;
so the 'fellah' is kept by a wooden rail from approaching within
a couple of yards of the tent. In consequence, many persons
mistaking the licence-office for the commissioner's water-closet,
a placard has been placed over the door.
I am, Sir, yours &c.,
FELLAH DIGGER,
Who had to walk a few miles to pay away the money he had worked
hard for, and was kept a few hours standing by a rail - not sitting
on a rail, Mary.
Now I mean to tackle in right earnest with the second question, provided I can
keep in sufficiently good temper.
On the morning of Thursday, the 22nd June, in the year of Grace,
One thousand eight hundred and fifty-four,
His Excellency SIR CHARLES HOTHAM,
Knight Commander of the Most Noble Military Order of the Bath, landed on
the shores of this fair province, as its Lieutenant-Governor, the chosen
and commissioned representative of Her Most Gracious Majesty, the QUEEN!
Never (writes the Melbourne historian of that day) never in the history
of public ovations, was welcome more hearty, never did stranger meet with
warmer welcome, on the threshold of a new home:
VICTORIA WELCOMES VICTORIA'S CHOICE, was the Melbourne proclamation.
The following is transcribed from my diary:-
"Saturday, August 26th, 1854: His Excellency dashed in among us 'vagabonds'
on a sudden, at about five o'clock p.m., and inspected a shaft immediately
behind the Ballaarat Dining Rooms, Gravel-pits. A mob soon collected
round the hole; we were respectful, and there was no 'joeing.'
On His Excellency's return to the camp, the miners busily employed themselves
in laying down slabs to facilitate his progress. I was among the zealous ones
who improvised this shabby foot-path. What a lack! we were all of us
as cheerful as fighting-cocks. - A crab-hole being in the way, our Big-Larry
actually pounced on Lady Hotham, and lifting her up in his arms, eloped
with her ladyship safely across, amid hearty peals of laughter, however
colonial they may have been. - Now Big Larry kept the crowd from annoying
the couple, by properly laying about him with a switch all along the road.
"His Excellency was hailed with three-times-three, and was proclaimed on the
Camp, now invaded by some five hundred blue shirts, the 'Diggers' Charley.'
"His Excellency addressed us miners as follows:-
"Diggers I feel delighted with your reception - I shall not neglect your
interests and welfare - again I thank you.
"It was a short but smart speech we had heard elsewhere, he was not fond
of 'twaddle,' which I suppose meant 'bosh.' After giving three hearty cheers,
old Briton's style to 'Charley,' the crowd dispersed to drink a nobbler
to his health and success. I do so this very moment. Eureka, under my
snug tent on the hill, August 26, 1854. C.R."
Within six short months, five thousand citizens of Melbourne, receive the name
of this applauded ruler with a loud and prolonged outburst of indignation!
Some twenty Ballaarat miners lie in the grave, weltering in their gore!
double that number are bleeding from bayonet wounds; thirteen more
have the rope round their necks, and two more of their leading men are priced
four hundred pounds for their body or carcase.
'Tout cela, n'est pas precisement comme chez nous, pas vrai?'
Please, give me a dozen puffs at my black-stump, and then I will proceed
to the next chapter.
Chapter XII.
Sufficit Diei Sua Vexatio.
Either this chapter must be very short, or I had better give it up
without starting it at all.
Up to the middle of September, 1854, the search for licences happened
once a month; at most twice: perhaps once a week on the Gravel Pits,
owing to the near neighbourhood of the Camp. Now, licence-hunting became
the order of the day. Twice a week on every line; and the more the diggers
felt annoyed at it, the more our Camp officials persisted in goading us,
to render our yoke palatable by habit. I assert, as an eye-witness
and a sufferer, that both in October and November, when the weather allowed it,
the Camp rode out for the hunt every alternate day. True, one day they would
hunt their game on Gravel-pits, another day, they pounced on the foxes
of the Eureka; and a third day, on the Red-hill:
