The Eureka Stockade [46]
the hill on which the stockade was situated. As some desultory firing was still going on, I advanced about fifty yards down the gully, in order to insure safety by getting upon lower ground; by this time, with the exception of an occasional cheer from the military or police, everything was perfectly quiet, and from where I stood neither soldier nor trooper was to be seen. A few minutes after a small detachment of mounted police made its appearance on the hill, and drew up in a line on the either side of the stockade, the officer in command appeared to be haranguing them. I was standing about three hundred yards from them, several other people being near at hand. I saw three troopers leave the ranks and advance towards me; when one of them who rode considerably ahead of the other two arrived within hailing distance, he hailed me as a friend. Having no reason to think otherwise of him, I walked forward to meet him. After he had lured me within safe distance, namely about four paces, he levelled his holster pistol at my breast and shot me. Previous to this, and while advancing towards each other, he asked me if I wished to join his force; I told him I was unarmed, and in a weak state of health, which must have been plain to him at the time, but added that I hoped this madness on the part of the diggers would soon be over; upon that he fired."
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The trooper be d----d; but I congratulate poor Frank, of the good town of Bedford, for 'this madness on the part of the diggers' procuring him 400 pounds sterling from Toorak; so that he can afford to spare me the trouble of encroaching any further into his 'statement.' Great works!
III. Document more important, by far.
On the 28th November, when some military and ammunition came on the ground, the detachment was set on at Eureka, near the site of the stockade, and in the hubbub consequent the troops were somewhat at fault, and the officer in command called at the London Hotel to inquire the way to the Camp. The owner of the hotel, Mr. Hassall, on being asked, came out of his establishment to point out the way to the officer in command of the detachment, while so doing he received a ball in his leg, and was for a while laid up by the wound. After a long time of suffering, and a great loss of money directly and indirectly, he applied for compensation--with what success may be seen from the following letter just come to hand:-
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Colonial Secretary's Office, Melbourne, 26th October, 1855.
Gentlemen.--The memorial of the miners on behalf of Mr. B. S. Hassall, wounded during the disturbances at Ballaarat, having been by the governor's directions referred to the board appointed to investigate such claims, the board reported, that from the evidence, it appears impossible Mr. Hassall could have received his wound from the military, and that they could not see anything to justify their recommending any compensation for him. His Excellency cannot therefore entertain the petition as he has not power to award compensation except on the recommendation of the board.
I have the honour to be, gentlemen, Your most obedient servant, J. MOORE, A.C.S. (To) SAMUEL IRWIN, and A. C. BRUNNING, Esqrs.
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'Great works' this time at Toorak, eh! oh! dear.
So far so good, for the present; because spy 'Goodenough' wants me in the next chapter.
Chapter LXIII.
Et Scias Quia Nihil Impium Fecerim.
It was now between eight and nine o'clock. A patrol of troopers and traps stopped before the London Hotel.
Spy Goodenough, entered panting, a cocked pistol in his hand, looking as wild as a raven. He instantly pounced on me as his prey, and poking the pistol at my face, said in his rage, "I want you."
"What for?"
"None of your d----d nonsense, or I shoot you down like a rat."
"My good fellow don't you see? I am assisting Dr. Carr to dress the wounds of my friends!"--I was actually helping to bandage the thigh of an American digger, whose name, if I recollected it, I should now write down with pleasure, because he was a brave fellow.
-----
The trooper be d----d; but I congratulate poor Frank, of the good town of Bedford, for 'this madness on the part of the diggers' procuring him 400 pounds sterling from Toorak; so that he can afford to spare me the trouble of encroaching any further into his 'statement.' Great works!
III. Document more important, by far.
On the 28th November, when some military and ammunition came on the ground, the detachment was set on at Eureka, near the site of the stockade, and in the hubbub consequent the troops were somewhat at fault, and the officer in command called at the London Hotel to inquire the way to the Camp. The owner of the hotel, Mr. Hassall, on being asked, came out of his establishment to point out the way to the officer in command of the detachment, while so doing he received a ball in his leg, and was for a while laid up by the wound. After a long time of suffering, and a great loss of money directly and indirectly, he applied for compensation--with what success may be seen from the following letter just come to hand:-
-----
Colonial Secretary's Office, Melbourne, 26th October, 1855.
Gentlemen.--The memorial of the miners on behalf of Mr. B. S. Hassall, wounded during the disturbances at Ballaarat, having been by the governor's directions referred to the board appointed to investigate such claims, the board reported, that from the evidence, it appears impossible Mr. Hassall could have received his wound from the military, and that they could not see anything to justify their recommending any compensation for him. His Excellency cannot therefore entertain the petition as he has not power to award compensation except on the recommendation of the board.
I have the honour to be, gentlemen, Your most obedient servant, J. MOORE, A.C.S. (To) SAMUEL IRWIN, and A. C. BRUNNING, Esqrs.
-----
'Great works' this time at Toorak, eh! oh! dear.
So far so good, for the present; because spy 'Goodenough' wants me in the next chapter.
Chapter LXIII.
Et Scias Quia Nihil Impium Fecerim.
It was now between eight and nine o'clock. A patrol of troopers and traps stopped before the London Hotel.
Spy Goodenough, entered panting, a cocked pistol in his hand, looking as wild as a raven. He instantly pounced on me as his prey, and poking the pistol at my face, said in his rage, "I want you."
"What for?"
"None of your d----d nonsense, or I shoot you down like a rat."
"My good fellow don't you see? I am assisting Dr. Carr to dress the wounds of my friends!"--I was actually helping to bandage the thigh of an American digger, whose name, if I recollected it, I should now write down with pleasure, because he was a brave fellow.