Chapter XCIX.
Suppose I give now the kind (!) answer from Police-inspector HENRY FOSTER!
it will give general satisfaction, I think:-
Police Department,
Ballaarat, Nov. 2, 1854.
Sir, - In reply to your communication, dated 26th ultimo, on the subject of
your having been deprived of your clothing during your arrest at this
Camp, in December, 1855 [I think, Mr. Foster, it was in 1854] I have the
honour to inform you, that to the best of my recollection, the clothing
you wore when you were brought to the Camp consisted of a wide-awake hat,
or cap, a red shirt, corduroy or moleskin trousers, and a pair of boots.
Of these articles, the cap, shirt, and boots were put amongst the surplus
clothing taken from the other prisoners, and I am not aware how they were
disposed of afterwards.
I must add, that the shirt alluded to was made of wool, under which you
wore a cotton one, the latter of which you retained during your
confinement.
I have the honour to be, Sir,
Your obedient servant,
HENRY FOSTER,
Inspector of Police.
(To) SIGNOR CARBONI RAFFAELLO.
Ballaarat.
- - -
My money is not mentioned though! Very clever: and yet I know it was not
Foster who did rob me.
However, good reader, if you believe that a Ballaarat miner, of sober
habits and hard at work, has not got about his person, say a couple of
one pound rags, well...there let's shut up the book at once, and here
is the
END
P.S. If John Bull, cross-breed or pure blood, had been robbed in Italy,
half less wantonly, and twice less cruelly, than myself, the whole British
press and palaver 'in urbe or orbe terrarum' would have rung the chimes
against Popish gendarmes and the holy (!) inquisition of the scarlet city.
So far so good.
A friendless Italian is ROBBED under arrest on British ground, close by
the British flag, by British troopers and traps: oh! that alters the case.
What business have these foreign beggars to come and dig for gold on
British Crown lands?
BASTA COSI; 'that is', Great works!
Chapter C.
WANTED - Stuff, Anyhow, For The Last Chapter.
If 'The Age', always foremost in the cause of the digger, never mind his
language or colour; if 'The Argus' would drop the appending 'a foreigner'
to my name, and extend even unto me the old motto 'fair-play;' if
'The Herald' would set up the pedestal for me whom it has erected as a
'MONUMENT OF GRATITUDE;' I say, if the gentlemen Editors of the Melbourne
Press, on the score of my being an old Collaborateur of the European
Press, would for once give a pull, a strong pull, and a pull altogether,
to drag out of the Toorak small-beer jug, the correspondence on the above
matter between
1. SIR CHARLES HOTHAM, K.C.B.
2. W. C. HAINES, C.S.
3. W. FOSTER STAWELL, A.G.
4. Mr. STURT, Police Magistrate.
5. W. H. ARCHER, A.R.G.
6. CAPTAIN M`MAHON.
7. POLICE-INSPECTOR H. FOSTER.
8. Another whom I detest to name, and
9. SIGNOR CARBONI RAFFAELLO, M.L.C. of Ballaarat,
it would astonish the natives, teach what emigration is, and I believe
the colony at large would be benefited by it.
There are scores of cases similar to mine, and more important by far,
because widows and orphans are concerned in them. 'Sunt tempora nostra!'
Master Punch, do join the chorus; spirited little dear! won't you give a
lift to Great-works? Spare not, young chip, or else, the jackasses in the
Australian bush will breed as numerous as the locusts in the African desert.
It is not FEAR that makes me shake at chapters XCII and XCIII.
Good reader, to the last line of this book, my quill shall stick to my
word as given in the first chapter. Hence, for the present, this is the
LAST. Put by carefully the pipe, we may want it again: meanwhile,
FAREWELL.
End of The Eureka Stockade, by Raffaello Carboni
