Meanwhile the Government maintained the licensing in its fullest extent. In October 1854 the police received orders to go out twice a-week in search of unlicensed diggers. There were then four Commissioners at Ballarat, between whom the superintendence of the surrounding gold-fields was divided, but so ill-defined were the boundaries of each district that the police in their raids went over the same ground more than once, and thus unnecessarily roused the anger of the diggers by repeatedly bailing up a "mate," or by compelling the production of a license over and over again on the same day.
These stringent measures of the authorities served to bring the diggers into closer union with one another. By the organising of reform leagues and committees the whole population became educated to a certain degree in the discussion of their grievances, and several men then came to the front who in subsequent years became popular political and social leaders. Among the changes contemplated by the reform league at Ballarat may be mentioned:—(1) Fair representation; (2) manhood suffrage; (3) no property qualification for Members of Legislative Council; (4) payment of Members, and short duration of Parliaments. But its immediate object was to obtain a change in the management of the gold-fields—the disbanding of Commissioners, and the abolition of diggers' and storekeepers' license taxes.
The motives that prompted the diggers to oppose the impost were never so unreservedly displayed as at their public meetings; the telling speeches of those "gifted with the gab" often heated the swelling emotions of the listening multitude to almost a bursting point. A lively view of a diggers' meeting is thus depicted by Mr. W. Kelly:—"At length a bell commenced ringing in front of a large tenement, and all the different groups commingled in one advancing crowd towards the entrance. I found inside an extemporised platform at the end, on to which I was ushered to a prominent place. The proposers occupied a front row, striving to look as if they were not aware of their being about to be asked to take part in the proceedings, while I could clearly see they were in communion with their memories, calling to mind the concluding words in pages so-and-so, and the starting word in the sentences on the other leaves. The seconders were in their proper position, got up without starch for the occasion, all of the 'unaccustomed as I am' class. The chairman, Mr. H—ff—y, was voted to his post by acclamation, and Dr. C——r 'broke open the ball.' He had evidently read up for the occasion, but studied harangues. Abstruse political theories and polemical refinements are not the fitting elements for popular oratory; his loftiest flights and his most studied cadences (none of them approaching mediocrity, by the way) scarcely produced a fitful 'hear.' It was evident that the audience paid no attention to the contrasting illustrations between direct or indirect taxation, or the grand theory of 'basing representation on population instead of property;' even the reference to 'unlocking the lands' elicited only a languid meed of approbation. But when a digger from the crowd asked aloud, 'What about the b—y license tax?' there arose a simultaneous shout as if from a roaring giant, which broke the doctor's thread. He tried to stagger on, but after a few stumbles he 'declined occupying any more of their valuable time,' and sat down, to the apparent delight of the whole crowd. The next speaker, and the next, and the next, and the next still, were all of a piece, and the cry of 'Shut up!' became impartially applicable to all, until a rough, determined, yet good-countenanced man, was lifted up in front. He evidently did not court the prominence, but there was no mistaking it; he was perfectly self-possessed, his mind was full, and his undisciplined tongue 'was all there.' He looked steadily around with his great hand thrust into the breast of his open shirt, where the mud-spattered hair was evident as his whiskers. I felt sure I knew what was coming, and his first clearly-pronounced words, 'Brother Diggers!' made the assurance doubly sure. He bade them be of a good heart, but to be united—emphasising the word. He advised them to obey the Law, but denied the legality of the license tax, which bore down upon the industry that made the country great, and went on pampering their persecutors. He drew a most graphic picture of the tyranny of officials' enormities of digger-hunting, and wound up by swearing 'while he would die for his Queen, he would shed the last drop of his blood before he would pay another license.' The burst of enthusiasm that followed this declaration is altogether indescribable. It seemed to lift the great tent into mid-air; and, inoculated with the glow of feeling around me, I could almost imagine that I had a cloud for a footstool. The speaker was seized, nolo episcopari notwithstanding, and carried out in triumph to the open air, leaving the chairman to dissolve the meeting, vote himself thanks, and all the rest of it. It was then, in truth, the bonâ-fide meeting commenced, and many a spirit-stirring speech bearing close upon the one text was delivered extemporaneously from the head of a barrel or the end of a waggon."
The ill-will manifested at these gatherings was kept fervid by the official tyranny which yet accompanied the collecting of the tax, and its virulence was much increased when the diggers learned that the authorities employed informers whose histories precluded the possibility of their acting truthfully, and stamped them as men of straw, ready to swear to anything at the official's bidding. Such a state of affairs so irritated the men as to cause the more excitable to collect arms. Men of different nationalities formed separate leagues; while throughout the whole digging community the probability of open insurrection was commonly discussed.
CHAPTER VII.
THE EUREKA HOTEL MURDER.
At last an incident caused the long-smouldering elements of disaffection to burst out suddenly in a blaze of infuriated indignation.
A digger named Scobie met an old chum of his, and being overjoyed at the unexpected re-union, hastened to show his good-fellowship by "shouting." In the course of the day the two became drunk, and attempted to enter Bentley's Eureka Hotel. Being refused admittance, Scobie got troublesome. An altercation ensued with the people of the hotel, during which his head was split open with a spade. The blow killed him. Bentley's Hotel was held in disrepute by respectable miners, and its proprietor was considered a bad character. An inquest was held on the body of the murdered man. It was not conducted with the care and discrimination which should attend such an inquiry. The coroner's verdict, "that the deceased died from the effects of a wound inflicted by a person unknown," was so at variance with public opinion, that another official investigation was held, which indicted Bentley for the killing of Scobie. At the police court the landlord was acquitted, but the manner in which the case was conducted made it patent to all that justice had been trifled with. The Police Magistrate was known to be intimate with the prisoner, and was believed to be a sharer in his illicit gains. The trial was so injudicially carried out, that the Junior Commissioner, Mr. Johnston, took copies of the evidence and forwarded them to the Attorney-General.
The diggers became furious upon hearing of this acquittal, and on the 17th October 1854 assembled in great numbers around Bentley's Hotel. They expressed dissatisfaction at the result of the trial, and subscribed money for the purposes of bringing the case before more competent authorities, and of offering a reward for the capture of the dastardly murderers of Scobie. Soldiers were told off to the gathering to nip in the bud any rebellious exhibitions of wrath. While the diggers moved round the spot, listening to indignant invectives of their spokesmen, a lad in the crowd threw a stone which narrowly missed a trooper, and smashed into pieces a pane of the lamp in front of the hotel. The police immediately tried to arrest the offender, and then the surging crowd gave free vent to its feelings. Stones and missiles of all kinds were thrown until every window in the hotel was broken into atoms. Madly infuriated, they rushed against the front door, almost battering it to pieces; and whilst the tumultuous crowd were attacking the front of the building, a man with a bundle of paper and other inflammable materials got into the bowling-alley at the rear and set the place on fire. The soldiers made strenuous efforts to disperse the people and save the hotel; but all in vain. Bentley succeeded in escaping during the melée, and on a swift horse rode to the Commissioners' camp for additional assistance. Presently more soldiers arrived on the scene, but it was too late to stop the flames, which had by this time taken a firm hold of the building. The immense blaze drew from the gravel pits all the diggers, excepting those who happened to be below and were unable to come up to the surface without the help of their mates at the windlass, who had impetuously left their posts in order to take part in the demonstration against officialism and injustice. The enveloping flames continued the work of destruction by greedily licking up the wooden beams and heavy columns, and finished by reducing the whole building to a spread of ashes.