My Life in Many States and in Foreign Lands, Dictated in My Seventy-Fourth Year

by George Francis Train

It came about in this way. In '54 the miners in the fields of Ballarat and Bendigo were in a state of intense ferment. They were discontented with existing conditions—their luck in the mines, the way they were treated by the Government and the mine proprietors, and especially by the utter failure of the Government to protect them in their rights against the capitalists. The particular cause of quarrel, however, was the licenses.

When I went to Australia, the reader may easily believe, there was very little feeling for, or knowledge of, the United States. I at once undertook to spread the gospel of Americanism, and introduced the celebration of the Fourth of July. The colonists of England have always been quite friendly to the people of the United States, having a kindred feeling, and all of them have been looking forward to a day when they, too, might have a free country to claim for their own, and not merely a red spot on the map of Great Britain. For this reason, the Australians took kindly to the idea of celebrating the independence of the United States, as formerly a colony of Great Britain.

When the miners, who had heard of my "spread-eagleism," as it has since been called, started their little revolt against the government of the British, they thought of me and offered me the presidency of the republic they wanted to create. In the meantime, they elected me their representative in the colonial legislature of the miners about Maryborough, where they held a great meeting. I could not have taken my seat if I had desired it, and as I did not desire it, of course I declined. The imaginary presidency I declined, also, as I neither wanted it, nor could I have obtained it. The "Five-Star Republic," as it was called, was not to be anything but a dream, and the "revolution" of Ballarat was only a nightmare.

Soon after I declined these honors, there was a terrible riot at Ballarat. The whole mining district had risen against the Government, as Latrobe, the governor, had made himself most unpopular by his policy of procrastination. Everything connected with the mining fields, he seemed to think, could as well be looked after next year as this. The resentment of the miners had at last become uncontrollable. But, slow as they were about redressing the grievances of the miners, the British were fast enough in the business of protecting themselves and in putting down disturbances with a firm and heavy hand. Latrobe waited until the thing had almost got beyond him. He felt that he was all right with the old "squatters," whom he understood and who understood him; but he did not realize that the new element, the thousands of miners that had floated in from every nation of the globe, did not understand him or his ways. They were accustomed to having matters attended to with despatch, and could not tolerate the slow conservatism and unchangeableness of the English civil office. Personally he was a good man; but otherwise, he was as I have described.

The first fruits of the dilatory policy was the sacrifice of forty men. Captain Wise and forty of his troops were cut to pieces by the enraged miners, who had suddenly risen to fight for their rights. Governor Latrobe immediately called for troops from New Zealand, Tasmania, and New South Wales, to quell the rioters. The want of preparation of the revolters at once became apparent, and it was known that they had sent emissaries into Melbourne itself to buy arms and ammunition. The head of the insurrection was James McGill, who was an American citizen. He had disappeared from the neighborhood of Ballarat, and a reward of one thousand pounds sterling had been offered for his capture, dead or alive. In Melbourne there was almost a panic. Rumors were that the forests were filled with armed men marching to the destruction of the place. There were, it was authentically reported, 800 armed men at Warren Heap, about eighty miles distant, who were supposed to be meditating a raid. People hastened to secrete their jewelry, gold was placed in vaults, the banks were guarded, and a special police force was sworn in.

Just as the excitement was at its height, it was reported that James McGill was in the neighborhood of the city. I was sitting in my office one morning, during these days of fear, when a man walked in, as cool as if he were merely going to discuss the weather or some trifle of business. "I hear," he said, "that you have some $80,000 worth of Colt's revolvers in stock, and I have been sent down here to get them." I glanced up at the man, and took him in a little more closely. It came to me in a flash who he was. "Do you know," said I, "that there is a reward offered for your head of one thousand pounds?" "That does not mean anything," he said, and smiled as if it were a joke. "They can not do anything," he added, as if to allay any fears that I might have.

I again took him in, and thought of my $60,000 warehouse that we were then standing in, of the $25,000 warehouse at the other end of the railway, and of all my interests in Melbourne, under which we were placing a powder mine, and playing over it with lighted torches. "This will not do," I said. "You have no right to compromise me in this way." "We have elected you president of our republic," he added. "Damn the republic!" said I. "Do you mean to tell me that you refuse to be our chief?" said he. "I do," I said. "I am not here to lead or encourage revolutions, but to carry on my business. I have nothing whatever to do with governments or politics; and you must get out of here, if you do not want to be hanged yourself, and ruin me." I told him there was not the slightest possibility of success, as Great Britain would crush the revolt by sheer weight of men, if she could not beat its leaders in any other way.

Just then there came a rap at the door, which I had taken the precaution to close and lock. I hurried to the door and asked who was there, and the reply was that it was Captain McMahon, chief of police. He said to me: "Do you know that rascal McGill is in the city? His men are at Warren Heap, but he himself has actually come into Melbourne! I want a dozen of those Concord wagons of yours immediately." I made a motion of my hand to make McGill understand that he must keep quiet. Then I began to talk rapidly with the chief of police, and took him to the farther end of the warehouse, shutting the door of my office behind us. No more wagons were there, for the Government had already got all I had, but I wanted time to think. When we had looked around, and had seen that there were no wagons, Captain McMahon left, and I hurried back to McGill.

"Now, McGill," I said, "I am not going to betray you, but am going to save your life. You must do as I tell you." He looked at me for a moment, and said, "But I am not going back on my comrades." "You will have no comrades soon, but will be in the hands of the officers yourself, if you do not do exactly as I tell you." He finally consented to do as I advised.

As soon as I saw that the way was clear, I took him out into the street to the nearest barber, where I had his hair cut and his mustache shaved off, and then made him put on a workman's suit of clothes. We then got into my chaise, and I drove him down to the bay and took him aboard one of our ships that was about to sail, and told the men that I had brought a new stevedore. McGill pitched in and worked along with the men, and there was nothing to show that he was in any way connected with the revolution of Ballarat, much less its leader.