In the course of the day (December 7th), in spite of all the bayonets and
blunderbusses, the report reached us that the Melbourne people had had
a Monster Meeting of their own, equal to ours of November 29th, and that
Mr. Foster, the 'Jesuit,' had been dismissed from office.
The tragical act on Ballaarat was over; the scenery changed; and the
comedy now proceeded to end in the farce of the State Trials in Melbourne.
Between Wednesday and Thursday, all the 160 prisoners were liberated,
with the necessary exception of thirteen, reserved to confirm the title
of this book.
I do not wish to omit one significant circumstance. On Tuesday night,
December 5th, I was hobbled for the night to young Fergusson, an American,
and shared with him his blankets. I felt very much for this young man,
for he suffered from consumption; and as I do respect him, so I shall not
disclose our private conversation. This, however, is to the purpose.
He was among us, and with us at four o'clock on Saturday, at one and the
same time when spy Peters was within the stockade.
No spy, no trap, no trooper appeared against young Fergusson. Doctor
Kenworthy, his countryman, had the management of getting him off. I was
glad at his obtaining his liberty, because he was a brave, kind-hearted,
republican-minded young American, and I intend to keep his blue blankets
he left to me in prison for my comfort, in his remembrance.
