Blee - Eureka

Just before dawn on the morning of 3 December 1854, 296 soldiers and police descended on the sleeping inhabitants of a stockade, which had been roughly thrown together by the miners on the Ballarat goldfields. The soldiers had anticipated an attack. The troops gathering at the government camp were spoiling for action, but no one expected it to come on the Sabbath, and the stockaders were caught off-guard. Within fifteen minutes, about 30 men were dead or dying, and the only rebellion to take place on Victorian soil had been quashed.

The issues that drove the miners to erect the stockade were not unique to Ballarat. They had been brewing since the announcement of the first genuine find of gold was made on 16 July 1851, the day after the colony of Victoria was born. At the heart of the matter was the disdain with which the government regarded the gold seekers, even though it had been responsible for encouraging the gold rush in the first place. Worried that the economy of the new colony would suffer if there was a sudden loss of population to New South Wales, where gold had already been found, a group of businessmen, at the instigation of the governor, had put forward a prize of 200 guineas, sparking a frenzy of gold searching across Victoria.

Unfortunately, the government had not anticipated that the first finds would be replicated all over the colony, or that some goldfields would be so rich that almost the entire male population would be tempted to take up their picks and panning dishes, and tramp into the country to seek their fortunes. Nobody wanted to stay working for wages on the pastoral stations or in the towns. In trying to protect the colony, the government had brought it close to ruin, but rather than adapt to the altered situation, it attempted to drive the men back to their jobs by treating them as an unruly rabble.

They were anything but. They were, in fact, quite orderly, particularly in the early days. Among those who joined in the search for the precious metal were professional men who had never before held a pick or shovel. They took their place beside tradesmen, labourers, and shepherds who had the advantage of knowing the Victorian bush better than anyone else. There were also a few ex-convicts from Van Diemens Land, which came to be known as Tasmania in 1856. Admittedly few, if any, had asked the permission of their employers before heading to the goldfields, but they were hardly lawless. The early goldfields were remarkable for their lack of crime. When disputes arose, usually over the territory each man had claimed for himself, they came together as a group and sorted the matter out. These mass meetings became a feature of the goldfields, much to the concern of the administration because of the way in which they were conducted. They were democratic. Every digger, as all who joined the search for gold were known, had the right to voice his opinion and to vote on the issues which concerned him, a right which the British Government did not believe was an entitlement of men without property or respectability. Democracy, like republicanism, had no place in the British Empire.

According to British Law all precious metals on or below the ground belonged to the Crown; the diggers were not only trespassing, they were stealing as well. In New South Wales, this problem had been overcome by the introduction of a licence, costing 30 shillings, which gave the miners the right to extract gold from a small patch of land 2.45 metres square for 30 days. An identical licence was introduced into Victoria on 1 September 1851, not so much for the revenue it would raise, though that was sorely needed, but in the hope that the cost would dampen the diggers enthusiasm for goldmining.

By then, news had begun to circulate about Poverty Point, a stretch of land 800 metres long and 200 metres wide at Ballarat. It had once been a bend in a fast flowing river, and it was strewn with gold nuggets. Renamed Golden Point, it was to yield much more gold once men with Californian experience had arrived to unearth the pipe clay that lay 3 to 12 metres below the surface. It was so rich that over two days in early September, two brothers brought 27 kilograms of gold out of a shallow shaft. The diggers were prepared to suffer any conditionswind, rain, mud and the flimsiest of shelter at nightto get their hands on similar amounts of gold, especially as the selling price was 3 an ounce, more than a working man could expect to earn in a week.

To see that the licence was taken up, gold commissioners had to be appointed to every major goldfield and they had to be supported by police who could arrest defiant diggers. The problem was most of the police in the colony had taken off to the goldfields themselves so the native police were called into action. Formed in 1842 when Victoria was still the Port Phillip District of New South Wales, their role had been to assist in the pacification of Aborigines in the pastoral districts. They relished the opportunity to exert their authority over white diggers and were given ample encouragement by their commanding officer, Captain Dana. They arrived in Ballarat on 19 September along with Commissioner Francis Doveton.

He brought with him a bundle of freshly printed licences, but not nearly enough for the 5000 diggers he found on the goldfield. Thousands more licences had to be hastily handwritten so they could be introduced immediately, even though he had been instructed to wait until the beginning of the next month. The diggers were immediately upset. They vowed to resist, especially as the possession of a licence gave them no guarantee that their gold would be safely transported to banks in Melbourne or Geelong. Captain Danas police were too busy to provide an escort, unless it was to protect the gold of the diggers who had paid for their licences.

Few of the diggers wanted to leave the Ballarat field while it continued to yield such an amazing quantity of gold. One by one they capitulated and bought a half licence at 15 shillings to tide them over for the rest of September. Those who persisted in their belief that the licence cost was too high, and an injustice, risked being subjected to some very rough treatment by the native police. As there was no accommodation for prisoners at the government camp, they could find themselves chained to a log until the commissioner or the police magistrate dealt with the charges against them. A fine of 10 was the usual result, although the diggers could be sent to gaol in Melbourne or Geelong, or had to forfeit their claims.

The antagonism between the government camp and the diggers was further inflamed by the announcement early in December 1851 that the licence fee would be double in the New Year. It would also be extended to everyone on the goldfields who made a living either directly or indirectly from gold. This included those enterprising souls who had set up shop in their tents, providing food, grog and everything else the diggers needed.

The rationale for this provocative action was the financial crisis which had resulted from the shortage of labour. The cost of even the most basic of commodities had spiralled out of control, and the government was afraid that the situation would worsen once word of the gold discoveries reached England. There was a fear that it would create such a rush of immigrants that the colony would be overwhelmed, particularly if the gold petered out before the ships carrying them had arrived in Melbourne or Geelong. Even if the gold lasted, food shortages could cripple the colony and possibly lead to famine, which invariably brought disease and death.