The whole of that Wednesday morning, my tent on the Eureka had been a regular Babel. Foreigners from all quarters of the globe and of the diggings, came to inquire from me what was the matter concerning so much excitement as then prevailed on Ballaarat. I translated for them the news from our 'Ballaarat Times', or from The 'Geelong Advertiser's' clever correspondent. Thus, and thus alone, I became honourably their delegate, and subsequently interpreter to Lalor, the Commander-in-Chief; and I hereby express the hope that in time, Peter Lalor, though mutilated, may find at Toorak, a little more credit for his testimony than did that infernal spy, Goodenough. Anyhow, for the present, 'Le Pere Duprat', a well-known old hand, and respected French miner on Ballaarat, who was with me within the Eureka Stockade, and whose proposed plan for the defence, I interpreted to Lalor, is a living witness to the above. We must, however, attend to our Monster Meeting.

Chapter XXIX.

Heu Mihi! Sermo Meus, Veritas.

My friends had requested me to come forward at the meeting, and here is my speech according to notes I had previously taken in my tent.

Gold-laced Webster, I challenge contradiction.

I came from old Europe, 16,000 miles across two oceans, and I thought it a respectable distance from the hated Austrian rule. Why, then, this monster meeting to-day, at the antipodes? We wrote pet.i.tions, signed memorials, made remonstrances by dozens; no go: we are compelled to demand, and must prepare for the consequences.

The old style: oppressors and oppressed. A sad reflection, very sad reflection, for any educated and honest man.

For what did we come into this colony? 'Chi sta bene non si move,'

is an old Roman proverb. If then in old Europe, we had a bird in hand, what silly fools we were to venture across two oceans, and try to catch two jacka.s.ses in the bush of Australia!

I had a dream, a happy dream, I dreamed that we had met here together to render thanks unto our Father in heaven for a plentiful harvest, such that for the first time in this, our adopted land, we had our own food for the year; and so each of us holding in our hands a tumbler of Victorian wine, you called on me for a song. My harp was tuned and in good order: cheerfully struck up,

'Oh, let us be happy together.'

Not so, Britons, not so! We must meet as in old Europe--old style--improved by far in the south--for the redress of grievances inflicted on us, not by crowned heads, but blockheads, aristocratical incapables, who never did a day's work in their life. I hate the oppressor, let him wear a red, blue, white, or black coat.--And here certainly, I tackled in right earnest with our silver and gold lace on Ballaarat, and called on all my fellow-diggers, irrespective of nationality, religion, and colour, to salute the 'Southern Cross' as the refuge of all the oppressed from all countries on earth.--The applause was universal, and accordingly I received my full reward:

Prison and Chains! Old style.

Chapter x.x.x.

The Reform League, Grappling With The Right 'Stars'.

Monster Meeting continued:--

Proposed and seconded by blather reformers; of course, Vern had his go:--

"That this meeting being convinced that the obnoxious licence-fee is an imposition and an unjustifiable tax on free labour, pledges itself to take immediate steps to abolish the same by at once burning all their licences; that in the event of any party being arrested for having no licence, that the united people will, under all circ.u.mstances, defend and protect them."

"That this meeting will not feel bound to protect any man after the 15th of December who shall not be a member of the Reform League by that day."

The Rev. Mr. Downing proposed as an amendment, that the licences should not be burned. Although the rev. gentleman was heard with patience and respect, a sullen excitement pervaded the whole a.s.semblage while he spoke.

Those even of his most devoted followers were of the opinion that his sentiments did not accord with the spirit of the times, and the result was that the rev. gentleman's amendment fell to the ground.

Here must not be forgotten a peculiar colonial habit. There was on the platform a sly-grog seller, who plied with the black-bottle all the folks there, and the day was very hot, the sun was almost burning.

Chapter x.x.xI.

Si Cessi Il Pianto, L'Ira Si Gusti.

Lo Schiavo Che Vuol Finir Le Sue Pene, Vendetta Gridando Al Dio De Giusti, Deve Schiantar Le Proprie Catene.

Cuore! Si Vada, Vedasi, Si Vinca. (bis.)

In Spite of all that, however, Timothy Hayes, the chairman--who by-the-bye, discharged the duties of the chair in that vast a.s.semblage, with ability and tact, spoke like a man, as follows:--

"Gentlemen, many a time I have seen large public meetings pa.s.s resolutions with as much earnestness and unanimity as you show this day; and yet, when the time came to test the sincerity, and prove the determination necessary for carrying out those resolutions, it was found then that 'the spirit, indeed, is willing, but the flesh is weak.' Now, then, before I put this resolution from the chair, let me point out to you the responsibility it will lay upon you (hear, hear). And so I feel bound to ask you, gentlemen, to speak out your mind. Should any member of the League be dragged to the lock-up for not having the licence, will a thousand of you volunteer to liberate the man?"

"Yes! Yes!"

"Will two thousand of you come forward?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

"Will four thousand of you volunteer to march up to the Camp, and open the lock-up to liberate the man?"

"Yes! yes!" (the clamour was really deafening.)

"Are you ready to die?" shouted out our worthy chairman, stretching forth his right hand, clenched all the while; "Are you ready to die?"

"Yes, Yes! Hurrah!"

This general decided clamour put out Tim in such good spirits, that, in spite of the heat of the sun and the excitement of the day, he launched in the realm of crowned poets, and bawled as loud as if he wanted the head-butler at Toorak to take him a quart-pot of smallbeer--

"On to the field, our doom is sealed, To conquer or be slaves; The sun shall see our country free.

Or set upon our graves."

(Great works!)

No one who was not present at that monster meeting, or never saw any Chartist meeting in Copenhagen-fields, London, can possibly form an idea of the enthusiasm of the miners of Ballaarat on that 29th of November.

A regular volley of revolvers and other pistols now took place, and a good blazing up of gold-licences. When the original resolutions had all been pa.s.sed, Mr. Humffray moved a vote of thanks to Mr. Ireland, for his free advocacy of the state prisoners. The meeting then dissolved, many of them having previously burned their licences, and thus virtually pledging themselves to the resolution adopted, which might be said to have been the business of the day. Nothing could exceed the order and regularity with which the people, some fifteen thousand in number, retired.

Chapter x.x.xII.