The Story
From the Monster Meeting to the Eureka Stockade
By Jan ‘Yarn’ Wositzky, with extracts from his theatre production ‘Gold In The Heart’ and the audio tours ‘Living Stories of the Victorian Goldfields’ - six hours of tours of the goldfields with narration, interviews, readings and music.
Click here to listen to all tours
Part One – The Gold Rush
When gold was first discovered in Australia, in the late 1840’s, a sample was brought to Governor Gipps, in Sydney. Viewing the gleaming nugget, word has it the Governor said: For God’s sake! Put it away! Or we’ll all have our throats cut!
Well, if not blood on his shirt, the Governor’s world was about to be turned upside down; for if there was gold in the land, anyone, even a scumbag ex-convict or a mere labourer, could get rich.
So the British Government dictated that all Australian gold was now ‘Royal Gold’; it belonged to the Crown. But when word got out, nothing could contain the epidemic of “Yellow Fever”:
Men meet together, stare stupidly, at each other, talk incoherent nonsense, and wonder what will happen next. Everybody has a hundred times seen a hundredweight of flour; a hundredweight of sugar or potatoes is an everyday fact; but a hundred weight of gold is a phrase scarcely known in the English language. It is beyond the range of ordinary ideas.
And in 1852, the world’s greatest gold rush was at Forest Creek, now Chewton, near Castlemaine in central Victoria. It lasted as long as World War One – and then the rush was over. And the gold from Forest Creek helped change the world.
But before we go on with the story of the gold rush and the Monster Meeting, contemplate this:
Originally – that is, about four hundred million years ago – the gold around Castlemaine was twenty or so kilometres under the earth’s surface, and was a liquid, dissolved in a reservoir of hot water and liquid quartz. At that time, the land was rising from under the sea, and so this hot mix came to the surface via the fault lines, and solidified into reefs of gold and quartz rock.
Over millennia of storms, fire, wind, rain and sun, the gold broke into smaller pieces, and was scattered on the ground and settled into creek beds.
And the original people of central Victoria, the Jarra, let the gold be, lying where it was. To them it was too heavy to carry on foot and too soft for tools, such as axe heads and spear points.
But they called gold kara kara, and Jarra elder Brien Nelson tells a story of how one shepherd boy discovered about the gold from a Jarra kid:
I asked Brien, “For you Jaara people, what was gold good for?”
He said, ‘Nothing. The first white people who came here were farmers, and one day a Jaara kid and a white shepherd boy ere having a chat, and the Jaara boy bent over and picked up a lump of gold.
The shepherd thought to himself, “That’s gold.”
The Jaara kid said, “See those crows, I bet I can hit him.”
And the shepherd said, “But wait, don’t throw it away, that’s gold!”
“No good to me,” said the Jaara kid, and he threw the nugget of gold at a crow. “Got him!” said the Jaara kid.
“Don’t you want that gold?” asked the shepherd.
“No good to me. It’s too soft spear point and knife, and when I go walking, it’s too heavy to carry. So I leave it. Just rubbish.”
“Can I have it?” asked the shepherd.
“Sure,” said the Jaara boy.
So the shepherd ran and picked up the gold. Later he showed it to his master, the landowner, and the landowner said, ”Put it away.”
The landowner Brien Nelson refers to was one of about one thousand land holders who “owned” all the land in Victoria. These landowners were, by the way, the only ones eligible to vote for parliament. And the new Victorian Government agreed with the landowners – there was no gold in Victoria!
So why didn’t the landowners want gold to be found on their properties? Simple. They didn’t want a gold rush over-running their peaceful, profitable estates.
But in May 1851, gold was discovered, in NSW. At the news, Yellow Fever spread across the land, and an exodus of Victorians began.
The Victorian Governor, Charles La Trobe, faced financial ruin.
So to staunch the flow of people to NSW, La Trobe declared a reward of 200 pounds for the discovery of gold in Victoria.
It was soon a case of, ‘Be careful what you wish for, or you just might get it’. Soon gold was ‘officially’ discovered at Buninyong and Ballarat – but these were short-lived rushes.
Then in July 1851, shepherds on William Barker’s pastoral run found gold in the creek at a place now named Specimen Gully – at Barker’s Creek, close to where the town of Castlemaine now stands.
When the shepherds showed the gold in the men’s quarters they were ridiculed for finding fool’s gold, and they promptly threw it away.
The pastoralist Barker didn’t want the shepherds abandoning his sheep, but in August the shepherds did exactly that, and continued panning Specimen Gully.
When Barker sacked them and ran them off for trespass, one of the shepherds wrote to the Melbourne newspaper, the Argus:
Dear Sir,
I wish to publish these few lines, that the public may know that there is gold found in these ranges, about four miles from Dr Barker’s home station, and about a mile from the Melbourne road, at the southernmost point of Mt Alexander, where three men and myself are working.
John Worley, 1 September, 1851
And as they say, the rest is history.
By December there were 25,000 diggers swarming over Dr Barker’s property and the creeks near the present town of Castlemaine, particularly Forest Creek, which runs through Chewton.
There was to be more gold found in the rush on Forest Creek than in any other place in the history of the world.
Society was convulsed as servants, policemen, sailors, clerks, farmhands and people from every profession left their jobs and headed for the Forest Creek gold fields. The world was turned upside down. Nothing was talked of but gold, gold, gold!
Gentlemen were reported to be foaming at the mouths at the very thought of gold, gold, gold! Ladies, it’s said, were fainting!
Some were digging lumps of gold from the ground with a pocket-knife. Diggers went down a hole at daybreak poor men and emerged at sunset as lords. The landlords and the Government had lost control. Servants had become masters. The world was upside down. Suddenly, there were only two policemen left in Melbourne.
The landlords and the Government had lost control. Governor La Trobe couldn’t even find a labourer to chop his wood, and was reported to remark ruefully that:
…One would be disposed to regard the discovery of these great mineral treasures in other light than a blessing…
Part Two – The Monster Meeting
The Monster Meeting took place in what is now a very ordinary looking paddock beside Golden Point Road in the present town of Chewton.
But like many unremarkable spots, this is where a momentous event took place – when a reported 15,000 diggers attended what’s called the Monster Meeting, on December 15, 1851.
The diggers were angry over a tax, a Gold License, imposed by Governor La Trobe. The government couldn’t stop the rush, so the tax of thirty shillings per month was imposed on each digger, whether they found any gold or not.
In Australia in 2010 we witnessed a multi-million dollar campaign by multi-national mining companies protesting against a tax on profits. But La Trobe’s tax on gold diggers in 1851 was before they earned a penny.
However despite of the tax, people kept arriving on the diggings. By December 1851, three and a half months into the Forest Creek rush, there were 25,000 diggers camped on the creek, upstream and down stream from the Monster Meeting site.
So in a further attempt to stem the flow of people to the diggings, Governor La Trobe announced a plan to double the Gold Licence, from thirty to sixty shillings.
That’s when a notice was posted, and the great meeting of diggers took place, on 15 December, 1851. The diggers met under their new flag, upon which was:
* A bundle of sticks, tied together as a symbol of their unity (this symbol, by the way, predates the fascist use of similar imagery).
* A pick and shovel, for their labour
* The scales of justice.
* A kangaroo and emu; the symbol of the diggers identification with their new land – and also two animals who cannot take a backward step.
The speakers addressed the crowd from a dray. The diggers flag flew overhead. Below are extracts from some speeches of the day.
LAURENCE POTTS
The intelligence has just arrived that the government is to double the license fee. Will you tamely submit to the imposition or assert your rights like men?
You are called upon to pay a tax imposed by your legislators for the purpose of detaining you in their work-shops, in their stable yards, and by the flocks and herds.
They would increase this seven fold; but they are afraid! Fie upon such pusillanimity! And shame upon the men, who to save a few pounds for their own pockets, would tax the labour of the poor man hands!
But remember, that union is strength, that though the single twig may be bend or broken, a bundle of them tied together yields not, nor breaks.
Ye are Britons ! Will you submit to oppression and injustice?
Meet – agitate – be unanimous – and if there is justice in the land, they will, they must abolish the imposition.
The Victorian government builds no bridges and makes no roads. They have one single idea – Taxation – and all they can get.
Will you be ridden over with an iron hand to please the wishes of the squatters, or any other class?
Will you tamely submit to have your hard earnings torn from your grasp, to enrich the pockets of a few?
Or will you come forward like men, and maintain your rights?
CAPTAIN HARRISON
There is now a surplus of 13,000 pounds, which has been screwed out of the sinews of the gold-diggers, and what is to be done with it? They say it’s for the Queen. Has the Queen not got enough or does she want to buy pinafores for the children?
DIGGER
The Home government do not require, nor do they posses the power to enforce unjust taxation. It was such a taxation that lost Great Britain, America… There are few here who would advocate separation; few who do not love the Country of their adoption; few who do not feel themselves Free!
The meeting continued with three cheers for Laurence Potts (he who possibly called the meeting), the diggers and their wives, and three groans for Governor La Trobe, the traps, and the Melbourne Herald – for that newspaper had called the diggers ‘the scum of the country’.
In response to the Monster Meeting La Trobe changed his mind. The Gold Licence remained at thirty shilling a month. The diggers had triumphed.
Part Three – Agitation Hill
But the problems did not end with the Monster Meeting, and to frame up the Monster Meeting with what followed, we go first to the confrontation on Agitation Hill, Castlemaine, in 1853.
Agitation Hill is a good example of the overbearing authority that the diggers had to endure on the gold fields.
Although they were often called the police, and colloquially the ‘traps”, it was the military who ruled the goldfields. They set up camp at Castlemaine in October 1851 – a month after the gold rush began.
And to cut straight to the heart of it, the military camp quickly became known as a place of:
… cruelty, dissipation, partiality, injustice and other enormities… where one would know the officers of law by the a la militaire costume and hauteur; gold-laced strutters whose daily and nightly duties were burning tents and all property therein, and destroying stores, without enquiry or trial.
That was from an auctioneer named Hitchcock, describing what was on the gold fields a brutal, corrupt police state, with a system of paid informers to lead police to supposed un-licenced diggers and sly grog sellers.
One notorious trap was a man called Christian, who was a sub-inspector, and anything but Christian. And as with all goldfields policeman, Christian was on a 50% cut of the fines he generated. Selling sly grog, for example, was a 50 pound fine. That was a year’s ordinary wages – so as you can see, being a copper on the gold fields came with its perks.
And so it was, on the first Saturday in May 1853, sub-inspector Christian was informed, by a paid police informer, named Mangan, that a boarding-house keeper, Mr McMahon, was manufacturing and selling sly-grog.
It was a lie, but that night, sub-inspector Christian and his troopers destroyed McMahon’s boarding house and ransacked his possessions. Forty boarders stood outside in the dark and saw their belongings disappear into the government camp.
The following Monday the boarding house keeper McMahon was brought to court. But he was acquitted for lack of evidence. Instead, Mangan, the police informer, got 5 years for perjury.
God knows what may have happened if McMahon had been found guilty, but even with the acquittal, within hours there were signs all over Castlemaine, proclaiming:
MEN OF CASTLEMAINE!
MEET ON THE HILL!
DIGGERS!
Avenge your wrongs and demand your rights,
or otherwise you will live and die all slaves.
By four o’clock one thousand diggers, traders, shopkeepers, clergy and businessmen met on the hill overlooking the government camp.
Today the government camp location is a footy ground called Camp Reserve, but in 1853 the diggers called it, loathingly, the ‘Sacred Camp’.
And the hill overlooking the camp, where the diggers met, is still called Agitation Hill, and is the site of today’s Christ Church.
On the hill in 1853, Mr Jones, a Campbell’s Creek auctioneer, summed up the situation:
The tyranny of the Government has been such that, unless people take steps to intercept a despotic invasion of their constitutional rights, the relentless and unscrupulous authorities would take further liberties.
And a Dr Southbee voiced the emotion, incanting to tremendous cheering that:
…if the Government persists in their oppression,
the public of Castlemaine are unanimously determined to oppose the authorities, crumble them to the dust as useless worms, and chivalrously demand their individual liberties.
Part Four – Red Ribbon Agitation
The events of Agitation Hill in 1853, were preceded by the Monster Meeting at Chewton in 1851, and followed by the Red Ribbon Agitation in Bendigo. These three events all led towards the Eureka Stockade at Ballarat, where in 1854, 35 diggers and 6 police lost their lives.
But first, the Red Ribbon Agitation, in Bendigo.
Whilst the diggers at Castlemaine were people already resident in Australia, by 1852 diggers were coming from all around the world. En route aboard ship they sang this song, by Charles Mackay, singing up their dreams for the new land, free of Europe’s problems:
There’s a good time coming, boys,
A good time coming:
We may not live to see the day,
But earth shall glisten in the ray
Of the good time coming.
Cannon-balls may aid the truth,
But thought’s a weapon stronger;
We’ll win our battle by its aid:
Wait a little longer.
There’s a good time coming, boys,
A good time coming:
The pen shall supersede the sword,
And right, not might, shall be the lord,
In the good time coming.
Worth, not birth, shall rule mankind,
And be acknowledged stronger.
The proper impulse has been given:
Wait a little longer.
There’s a good time coming, boys,
A good time coming:
Hateful rivalries of creed
Shall not make their martyrs bleed
In the good time coming.
Religion shall be shorn of pride,
And flourish all the stronger;
And Charity shall trim her lamp:
Wait a little longer.
There’s a good time coming, boys,
A good time coming:
War in all men’s eyes shall be
A monster of iniquity
In the good time coming.
Nations shall not quarrel then
To prove which is the stronger,
Nor slaughter men for glory’s sake:
Wait a little longer.
But at the Bendigo gold rush the scene was less than a ‘good time a coming’. Bendigo Creek was an open graveyard of shafts, and whilst some prospered, some went broke and returned to Europe, or died.
The native gum trees were chopped down, for firewood and mining. There were butcher shops under canvas, with piles of fly-blown offal out the back. The government had banned alcohol, and sly-grog tents masqueraded as lemonade parlours. Some diggers drank themselves to death, others came close to armed insurrection due to the
Gold License tax of thirty shillings a month – just to be on the goldfields.
Think about it: that’s like someone paying Council rates every month, whether they owned a house or not.
And the troopers or ‘traps’ were immortalised in a song by the goldfields minstrel, Charles Thatcher:
The morning was fine,
The sun brightly did shine
The diggers were working away
When the inspector of traps
Said, ‘Now my fine chaps we’ll go license hunting today.’
Some went this way, some that,
Some to Bendigo Flat
And some to the White Hills did tramp
Whilst others did bear up toward golden Square
And the rest of them kept ‘round the camp.
The traps lived in the government camp, fenced in like a Roman fortress. It was, and still is, called Camp Hill. From Camp Hill the government officials and troopers looked down on the diggers, the rabble below, and emerged to conduct ‘digger hunts’:
‘Digger hunting’, as the search after men who had no license was called, was a favourite amusement of both officers and men, and it was followed up savagely, relentlessly, and with a refinement of cold-blooded cruelty that was not only exasperating, but disgusting in the extreme.
Unless they had their license in their pockets they were placed under arrest, and were all subjected alike to the indignity of being treated like criminals.
Mr Robert Ross Haverfield
Sometimes the troopers would collect as many as fifty un-licensed diggers, and frequently they were roped or handcuffed together and driven like beasts before the swords and bayonets of their captors, perhaps for the greater part of a day, over rough country, in the blazing sun in the summer and slush and mud in winter, until such time as a good haul was made.
When at the camp they were chained like dangerous animals to logs to wait the convenience of the commissioner or Magistrate, where without proper trial or right of appeal they were fined five pounds or sent to work on the roads.
Frank McKillop
But the diggers at Bendigo were inspired by the successes at the Monster meeting and Agitation Hill, and so they formed the Anti-Gold-License Association.
They drew up ‘The Bendigo Petition’. When presented to Governor La Trobe, it was thirty metres long, bound in green silk, and contained 30,000 signatures, from all the Victorian goldfields.
It read in part:
His Excellency, Charles Joseph La Trobe Esquire,
Liutenant Governor of the Colony of Victoria.
The Humble petition of the undersigned Gold Diggers and other residents on the Gold Fields of the colony
Sheweth
That in the present impoverished conditions of the goldfields, the impost of Thirty shillings a month is more than Your Petitioners can pay, as the fruit of labour at the mines scarcely affords to a large proportion of the Gold Miners the common necessities of life.
That in consequence of Armed Men (many of whom notoriously bad in character) being employed to enforce the impost of Thirty Shilling a Month, there is much ill-feeling engendered amongst the Diggers against the Government.
That the impost of Thirty shillings a Month is unjust because the successful and the unsuccessful Digger are assessed in the same ratio.
For these reasons and others which could be enumerated, Your petitioners pray your Excellency to Grant the Following Petition.
First: To direct the license Fee be reduced to Ten shillings a month
Second: To direct that Monthly or Quarterly Licenses be issued at the option of the Applicants….
The petition also requested that diggers be allowed 15 days after arrival on gold fields to pay the license, that the penalty be reduced from five to one pound, and that the armed force be discontinued.
Your Petitioners would also remind your Excellency that a Petition is the only mode by which they can submit their wants to your Excellency’s consideration, as though they contribute more to the Exchequer than half the colony, they are the largest class of Her Majesty’s Subjects in the colony unrepresented.
This was what added insult to injury: a tax, whether you earned any money or not, imposed by a government who would not allow you to vote, enforced by police or traps who were often thugs.
It’s worth considering at this point some of the ironies of the diggers and their situation.
Firstly, upon experiencing the injustice in the ‘new land’, the lyrics of the Charles Mackay song changed to take in the ‘new’ circumstances, albeit a repeat of the injustices they ‘d hoped to leave behind.
Neither did the diggers, according to a verse below, believe in the same freedoms and benefits for the Chinese, who in 1854 were arriving on the gold fields in great numbers:
Good Times Coming
There’s a good time coming, boys, a good time coming:
When it will it’s hard to say, but I hope twill be some day
This good time a coming
The comic song oft tells hard truth in place of weapons stronger
So now I’m going in to win, wait a little longer.
There’s a good time coming, boys, a good time coming:
Squatters shant permitted be, to overrun this colony
In this good time a coming
And English girls shant be allowed, though love than fire is stronger
To marry flash John Chinaman, wait a little longer.
There’s a good time coming, boys, a good time coming:
Camp officials shall have sense and try not to give offence
In this good time a coming
Some magistrates too will be found with love of justice stronger
And also know a little law, wait a little longer.
There’s a good time coming, boys, a good time coming:
No a schicer shall be sunk, not a digger e’er seen drunk
In this good time a coming.
A good time coming
A good time coming:
Neither could the diggers, like many Australians since, perceive that the same liberties the diggers longed for should also be the right of the original Jarra inhabitants.
With the Jarra economy based on husbanding the country for fruits, meat and other foods, their culture revolved around song, dance and story. Their language – Djadja Wurrung– mapped every creek and gully, and drew a tangible web between the land and every living thing.
But the European and Chinese gold-seekers were blind to that Jarra network of meaning and ownership, all over the country, and so, like an arm brushing the black pieces off a chess-board, the Jarra were swept aside, and the white pieces found themselves unleashed, to turn the land into whatever they wanted it to be.
In their hearts were hopes of a better life, and the desire for freedom and wealth that was beyond their reach in the Old World. But a place with democratic rights where they could be citizens – even if the same didn’t apply to the Jarra.
So as one Dreaming was decimated, the dreams of the diggers were sent to Melbourne in the form of the Bendigo Petition, and on 13 August 1853, about 10,000 diggers gathered at View Point, near where the Bendigo Art Gallery now stands on View St, to await the delegation from Melbourne.
The Herald reported that:
Gully after gully hoisted its flag, and various nationalities were represented by different flags. The Germans in particular seemed determined to come out strong on the occasion, having ordered some splendid new banners for the purpose. The English nation was well represented by royal standards and union jacks, and the Irish provided themselves with a very beautiful flag, with the harp in the centre, supported by a pick and shovel. But the one that attracted the attention was the Diggers Banner.
The diggers flag, born at the Monster Meeting of 1851 at Forest Creek, was now flown at Bendigo.
The delegates who’d travelled to Melbourne with the Bendigo Petition returned to address the 10,000 diggers from the back of a dray. The Governor, the diggers heard, would not reduce the license fee, or stop the digger hunts.
But the diggers refrained from violence. Instead, they decided to pay only ten of the thirty shilling license fee required, and to paint on their tents the words:
NO LICENSE TAKEN HERE
Fortunately, the Bendigo Gold Commissioner, Joseph Panton, was an educated man – unlike the likes of Christian at Castlemaine.
When a delegation of diggers met with Panton and offered their ten shillings instead of thirty, Panton refused. But he agreed to represent their interests to Governor La Trobe.
A second meeting was set for a fortnight later, but many diggers were losing patience. In those days, tea chests were lined with lead, and in the fortnight’s wait, every tea chest in Bendigo was stripped of its lead lining. In the hidden creek beds the diggers were turning the lead into bullets, and come the day of the meeting the diggers came trickling out of the hidden gullies, then streamed up the creek beds to gather in thousands at the bottom of View Street, with their rifles, pistols, and bullets of tea-chest lead.
Each national group marched beneath their flag, with the diggers flag in the van, above an ocean of bearded, angry men.
They proceeded to a spot where they could see the government camp along the hillside. They lit fires, talked, kept their powder dry, and waited.
Close by, a spy looked on: the Chief Commissioner of Police, later to become Sir William Henry Fancourt Mitchell, had been sent by Governor La Trobe, to report on the meeting.
And the meeting had barely begun, when Mitchell, panicked by the sight of so many armed diggers, mounted his horse and thundered down the Melbourne road, to alert the government that armed rebellion was about to begin.
But Mitchell shot his bolt too soon, for moderate voices prevailed, and the diggers decided to all wear a red ribbon in their hats, ‘as a sign’ they said, ‘that those who wore it pledged no longer to pay the license fee.’
The movement against the tax was now called the ‘Red Ribbon Agitation’, and every hat, tent, shop door and dog in Bendigo wore a red ribbon.
Meanwhile, Police Commissioner Mitchell spurred his tired horse on to Melbourne. “Bendigo is in a state of revolution,” he told La Trobe, “if the license fee is not reduced, or if an attempt to enforce it is made, it will end in bloodshed.”
But La Trobe increased the Bendigo troops to three hundred.
In the next month only four hundred diggers paid the license fee – where before there had been 14,000.
It was impossible to jail them all.
So instead, La Trobe, introduced a sliding scale: one pound for one month; two pounds for three months; four pounds for six months; and eight pound for twelve months. Those who paid for the year could vote.
The digger hunts continued, and the diggers resistance continued, adding to their demands the right to vote and buy land.
Part Five – Eureka
The next year, 1854, La Trobe was replaced by Governor Hotham, who ordered twice-weekly digger hunts. His troopers were to collect the fees at all costs.
At Ballarat, Hotham ordered thrice-weekly digger hunts, and there, the long-feared bloodshed finally took place.
At dawn on 4 December, 1854, at Eureka, a digger and a trap look each other in the eye.
The trap, a good soldier, is here on Government orders.
For the digger, it’s freedom, or die.
It’s the Sabbath, and usually on the Sabbath they would have been resting, or preparing for church.
Under their flag, the southern cross, those diggers that have licences, burn them.
The diggers kneel, and together, swear an oath. It’s like a prayer:
“We swear by the Southern Cross
to stand truly by each other
and fight to defend our rights and liberties.”
The diggers take arms.
Twenty minutes later, thirty-five diggers and six troopers are bayoneted or shot, dead at the Eureka Stockade.
Conclusion
So you might say that the diggers lost. But within a year, everything had changed.
The Gold licence was replaced by a Miners Right, where a digger paid one pound per year for the right to dig for gold.
Whilst the men of Victoria got the vote, is was another fifty years, till 1908, till women were allowed to vote.
With the devastation to their land, the Jaara people were swept off their country, and today a handful survive.
Many diggers stayed to make Australia their home. And that gold rush changed the world. It was certainly a cataclysm for the Jarra people, for their land and lives were forever changed. And the gold that was found in their country went around the world, and helped establish the gold standard that underwrote the modern world economy.
And there was more alluvial gold found here than anywhere else, anytime. In 1852 that made Forest Creek, Chewton, Castlemaine, the world’s number one destination. Anyone prepared to swing a pick could find gold, and, with no middle man, could convert it into cash.
But why gold? Why not any other mineral? Maybe the answer to ‘Why gold?’ is that gold is like the idea of a God: We don’t know how gold was created. Like a God, it’s just here, and unlike other metals, we mere mortals can’t manufacture gold. Neither can we destroy it – it’s eternal – and like true love, gold never tarnishes. So maybe to search for gold is really a search for everlasting life - or maybe, it’s just to get rich. Whatever, gold and God – they seem to go together. After all, the word gold is just God with an ‘l’ – unless of course you call it kara kara.
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