(Per favour of 'The Times'.)
"On the disgraced Sunday morning, December 3rd, whilst attending the
wounded diggers at the London Hotel, I was arrested by seven troopers,
handcuffed, and dragged to the Camp. On my arrival there, I was commanded
to strip to the bare shirt; whilst so doing I was kicked, knocked about,
and at last thrown into the lock-up by half-drunken troopers and soldiers.
My money, clothes, and watertight boots, which were quite new, could
nowhere be found at the Camp. Gaoler Nixon had bolted.
"From the confusion and excitement of that morning, I cannot say with
certainty the whole extent of my loss; but I can conscientiously declare
that it amounted to 30 pounds. The only thing which I saved was a little
bag, containing some Eureka dust, and my 'Gold-licence', which Inspector
Foster, who knew me, took charge of previous to my ill-treatment, and has
subsequently handed over to Father P. Smyth for me.
"Awaiting my trial in the Melbourne gaol, I made my 'complaint' to the
visiting justice, for the recovery of my property; but as I had not even
a dog to visit me in prison, so my complaint remained unnoticed. After
all, said worshipful the visiting justice (who was ushered into our yard
with 'Fall in, hats off!'), needs more power to him, as Joseph, the
nigger-rebel, for the 8 pounds, which had been robbed from him in due form
at the Camp, had the consolation to be informed by his worshipful that
gaoler Nixon had bolted.
"The glorious 'Not Guilty' from a British jury having restored me to my
former position in society, I embodied my 'claim' for restitution in a
constitutional form, and had it presented by a gentleman to the Colonial
Secretary, to be submitted for his Excellency's KIND Consideration.
His Excellency, soon after my trial, on being assured of my testimonials
to character and education, condescended to say, 'He was glad to hear I
was so respectable;' but His Excellency has not yet been pleased to
command the restitution of my property.
"Disappointed, in bad health, and worse spirits, I tramped for Ballaarat,
where I found that my tent, on the Eureka, had been robbed of everything
that was worth literally a sixpence - cradle, two tubs, digging tools,
cooking utensils, all gone, even my very blankets! and, of course, all my
little gold in specimens and dust, as well as my belt with money in it.
"From my account-book I can positively say, that on the fatal morning I
was arrested, the money I had on my possession, and what I had in my tent
in real cash, was 49 pounds. ALL OF WHICH I had earned by the sweat of
my brow, honestly, through downright hard work.
"During the whole of last season, on the Eureka, who was the first every
morning, between four and five to sing out 'Great works?' Who was the last
dilly-dallying at the cradle after sunset?
