"There was a chance for me to hear exciting news from the lips of a warrior fresh from the field of battle, so I said:
"If you would like to stay here until the doctor returns you will be welcome."
[*Footnote Peter Lalor.]
He was my guest for four days. He said that he went out with the military on the morning of December 3rd, and was the first surgeon who entered the Eureka Stockade after the fight was over. He found twelve men dead in it, and twelve more mortally wounded. This was about all the information he vouchsafed to give me. I was anxious for particulars. I wanted to know what arms he carried to the fray, whether he touched up his sword on the grind-stone before sallying forth, how many men or women he had called upon to stand in the name of her gracious Majesty Queen Victoria, how many skulls he had cloven, how many diggers he had "slewed," and how many peaceful prisoners he had brought back to the Government camp. On all these points he was silent, and during his stay with me he spoke as little as possible, neither reading, writing, nor walking about. But there was something to be learned from the papers. He had been a witness at the inquest on Scobie, killed by Bentley and two others, and principally on his evidence Bentley was discharged, but was afterwards re-arrested and condemned to three years' imprisonment. Dr. Carr was regarded as a "colluding associate" with Bentley and Dewes, the magistrate, and the official condemnation of Dewes confirmed the popular denunciation of them. At a dinner given to Mr. Tarleton, the American Consul, Dr. Otway, the Chairman said:
"While I and my fellow-colonists are thoroughly loyal to our Sovereign Lady, the Queen, we do not, and will not, respect her men servants, her maid servants, her oxen, or her asses."
A Commission was coming to Ballarat to report on wrong doings there, and they were looking for witnesses. On Friday, December 8th, the camp surgeon and Dr. Carr had a narrow escape from being shot. While the former gentleman was entering the hospital he was fired at by one of the sentries. The ball passed close to the shoulder of Dr. Carr, who was reading inside, went through the lid of the open medicine chest, and some splinters struck him on the side. There were in the hospital at that time seven diggers seriously wounded and six soldiers, including the drummer boy. Troubles were coming in crowds, and the bullet, the splinters, and the Commission put the little doctor to flight. He left the seven diggers, the five soldiers, and the drummer boy in the hospital, and made straight for Colac. Fear dogged his footsteps wherever he went, and the mere sight of him had sent the impudent thief Lilias to hide behind the tussocks.
I always hate a man who won't talk to me and tell me things, and the doctor was so silent and unsociable, that, by way of revenge, I left him to the care and curses of old "Specs."
After four days he departed, and he appeared again at Ballarat on January 15th, giving evidence at an inquest on one Hardy, killed by a gunshot wound. In the meantime a total change had taken place among the occupants of the Government camp. Commissioner Rede had retired, Dr. Williams, the coroner, and the district surgeons had received notice to quit in twenty-four hours, and they left behind them twenty-four patients in and around the camp hospital.
Dr. Carr left the colony, and the next report about him was from Manchester, where he made a wild and incoherent speech to the crowd at the Exchange. His last public appearance was in a police-court on a charge of lunacy. He was taken away by his friends, and what became of him afterwards is not recorded.
Doctors, when there is a dearth of patients, sometimes take to war, and thus succeed in creating a "practice." Occasionally they meet with disaster, of which we can easily call to mind instances, both ancient and modern.