The Eureka Stockade [40]
morrow will have its own troubles:" at any rate, Thonen gave word to the 'outposts,' chiefly Californians to let me pass to my tent: and having thrown myself on my stretcher, with every thing quiet round about, I soon fell asleep.
On the afternoon of Sunday, the following notice was posted up:-
V. R. NOTICE. No light will be allowed to be kept burning in any tent within musket-shot of the line of sentries after 8 o'clock p.m. No discharge of fire-arms in the neighbourhood of the Camp will be permitted for any purpose whatever. The sentries have orders to fire upon any person offending against these rules. (By order), T. BAILEY RICHARDS, Lieut. 40th Regt., Garrison Adjutant.
Chapter LVI.
Remember This Sabbath Day (December Third), To Keep It Holy.
I awoke. Sunday morning. It was full dawn, not daylight. A discharge of musketry--then a round from the bugle--the command 'forward'--and another discharge of musketry was sharply kept on by the red-coats (some 300 strong) advancing on the gully west of the stockade, for a couple of minutes.
The shots whizzed by my tent. I jumped out of the stretcher and rushed to my chimney facing the stockade. The forces within could not muster above 150 diggers.
The shepherds' holes inside the lower part of the stockade had been turned into rifle-pits, and were now occupied by Californians of the I.C. Rangers' Brigade, some twenty or thirty in all, who had kept watch at the 'out-posts' during the night.
Ross and his division northward, Thonen and his division southward, and both in front of the gully, under cover of the slabs, answered with such a smart fire, that the military who were now fully within range, did unmistakably appear to me to swerve from their ground: anyhow the command "forward" from Sergeant Harris was put a stop to. Here a lad was really courageous with his bugle. He took up boldly his stand to the left of the gully and in front: the red-coats 'fell in' in their ranks to the right of this lad. The wounded on the ground behind must have numbered a dozen.
Another scene was going on east of the stockade. Vern floundered across the stockade eastward, and I lost sight of him. Curtain whilst making coolly for the holes, appeared to me to give directions to shoot at Vern; but a rush was instantly made in the same direction (Vern's) and a whole pack cut for Warrenheip.
There was, however, a brave American officer, who had the command of the rifle-pit men; he fought like a tiger; was shot in his thigh at the very onset, and yet, though hopping all the while, stuck to Captain Ross like a man. Should this notice be the means to ascertain his name, it should be written down in the margin at once.
The dragoons from south, the troopers from north, were trotting in full speed towards the stockade.
Peter Lalor, was now on the top of the first logged-up hole within the stockade, and by his decided gestures pointed to the men to retire among the holes. He was shot down in his left shoulder at this identical moment: it was a chance shot, I recollect it well.
A full discharge of musketry from the military, now mowed down all who had their heads above the barricades. Ross was shot in the groin. Another shot struck Thonen exactly in the mouth, and felled him on the spot.
Those who suffered the most were the score of pikemen, who stood their ground from the time the whole division had been posted at the top, facing the Melbourne road from Ballaarat, in double file under the slabs, to stick the cavalry with their pikes.
The old command, "Charge!" was distinctly heard, and the red-coats rushed with fixed bayonets to storm the stockade. A few cuts, kicks and pulling down, and the job was done too quickly for their wonted ardour, for they actually thrust their bayonets on the body of the dead and wounded strewed about on the ground. A wild "hurrah!" burst out and 'the Southern Cross' was torn down, I should say, among their laughter, such as if it had been a prize from a May-pole.
Of the armed diggers, some made off the
On the afternoon of Sunday, the following notice was posted up:-
V. R. NOTICE. No light will be allowed to be kept burning in any tent within musket-shot of the line of sentries after 8 o'clock p.m. No discharge of fire-arms in the neighbourhood of the Camp will be permitted for any purpose whatever. The sentries have orders to fire upon any person offending against these rules. (By order), T. BAILEY RICHARDS, Lieut. 40th Regt., Garrison Adjutant.
Chapter LVI.
Remember This Sabbath Day (December Third), To Keep It Holy.
I awoke. Sunday morning. It was full dawn, not daylight. A discharge of musketry--then a round from the bugle--the command 'forward'--and another discharge of musketry was sharply kept on by the red-coats (some 300 strong) advancing on the gully west of the stockade, for a couple of minutes.
The shots whizzed by my tent. I jumped out of the stretcher and rushed to my chimney facing the stockade. The forces within could not muster above 150 diggers.
The shepherds' holes inside the lower part of the stockade had been turned into rifle-pits, and were now occupied by Californians of the I.C. Rangers' Brigade, some twenty or thirty in all, who had kept watch at the 'out-posts' during the night.
Ross and his division northward, Thonen and his division southward, and both in front of the gully, under cover of the slabs, answered with such a smart fire, that the military who were now fully within range, did unmistakably appear to me to swerve from their ground: anyhow the command "forward" from Sergeant Harris was put a stop to. Here a lad was really courageous with his bugle. He took up boldly his stand to the left of the gully and in front: the red-coats 'fell in' in their ranks to the right of this lad. The wounded on the ground behind must have numbered a dozen.
Another scene was going on east of the stockade. Vern floundered across the stockade eastward, and I lost sight of him. Curtain whilst making coolly for the holes, appeared to me to give directions to shoot at Vern; but a rush was instantly made in the same direction (Vern's) and a whole pack cut for Warrenheip.
There was, however, a brave American officer, who had the command of the rifle-pit men; he fought like a tiger; was shot in his thigh at the very onset, and yet, though hopping all the while, stuck to Captain Ross like a man. Should this notice be the means to ascertain his name, it should be written down in the margin at once.
The dragoons from south, the troopers from north, were trotting in full speed towards the stockade.
Peter Lalor, was now on the top of the first logged-up hole within the stockade, and by his decided gestures pointed to the men to retire among the holes. He was shot down in his left shoulder at this identical moment: it was a chance shot, I recollect it well.
A full discharge of musketry from the military, now mowed down all who had their heads above the barricades. Ross was shot in the groin. Another shot struck Thonen exactly in the mouth, and felled him on the spot.
Those who suffered the most were the score of pikemen, who stood their ground from the time the whole division had been posted at the top, facing the Melbourne road from Ballaarat, in double file under the slabs, to stick the cavalry with their pikes.
The old command, "Charge!" was distinctly heard, and the red-coats rushed with fixed bayonets to storm the stockade. A few cuts, kicks and pulling down, and the job was done too quickly for their wonted ardour, for they actually thrust their bayonets on the body of the dead and wounded strewed about on the ground. A wild "hurrah!" burst out and 'the Southern Cross' was torn down, I should say, among their laughter, such as if it had been a prize from a May-pole.
Of the armed diggers, some made off the