I found everything comparatively quiet; the majority
were either asleep of warming themselves round the big fire. I spoke
in German face to face, for the last time, with Thonen. M`Gill and two-thirds
of the Independent Californian Rangers' Rifle Brigade, in accordance with
the avocation expressed in the title, were out 'starring' to intercept
reinforcements reported on the road from Melbourne. Nealson and his division
were off for the same purpose. Was their lot that of Lot's wife?
Sir Charles Hotham must have possessed the rod of Moses to convert the quartz
of Victoria into red coats, as numerous as the locusts that plagued
Pharaoh's land. The Local Court of Ballaarat should recommend His Excellency
to carry out the 'abolition of shepherding at Sebastopol.'
I asked Thonen to see Lalor. I was answered that Peter, from sheer exhaustion,
must rest for an hour or two, and was asleep.
Myself not having closed an eye since Thursday, I felt severely the want
of sleep. Is not sabbath-keeping our day's cant in the English language?
Anyhow it must be admitted, in justice to both silver and gold lace,
that they take it in good earnest: to keep the sabbath is a holy and wholesome
thing for them. I do not remember what was my frame of mind at the time
I wished Thonen good night; very probably, "Enough for the day, the 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 best way they could, others surrendered
themselves prisoners, and were collected in groups and marched down the gully.
The Indian dragoons, sword in hand, rifle-pistols cocked, took charge
of them all, and brought them in chains to the lock-up.
