Lalor comes to the fore
It's unclear whether any of the leading participants in the 30 November meeting had met and planned any of what occurred. The speed and apparent efficiency with which the Eureka forces were organised, at least at this early beginning, and the elections of their commanders would seem to indicate some level of prior organisation, as does Lalor's ra-ra speech and the oath he swore under the Southern Cross flag. And whether Lalor had met with the Chartists to map out a preferred approach to the "rebellion" is also unknown.
The general indication from historians is that any such discussions took the form of an argument between the Chartists, who opposed a rebellion, and Vern, Carboni, and Lalor, who were to varying degrees less opposed. Vern and Carboni, despite their highly colourful and vociferous demands for "action", their almost comical self-aggrandising, their self-evidenced insistence on having military expertise, and who absolutely detested one another, proved to be hollow men. Vern with his over-long sword proved to be useless, and Carboni appears to have spent at least some of the battle hidden up a chimney.
Lalor was perfectly open about his complete lack of military expertise, and his need for a militarily capable sidekick. When he finally found one, he too appears to have been a hollow man, although there is a significant degree of mystery about him. One of the problems with Eureka as a rebellion is that the miner participants and their allies mostly knew nothing about one another, and it proved all-too-easy for charlatans and mountebanks to infiltrate the leadership ranks, some of whom proved useless, some of whom were dangerous, insofar as they claimed expertise they didn't have, possibly leading to the deaths of several participants, and some of whom may even have been traitors to the cause.
Some historians point to Lalor being more fiery than the Chartists because of the stories he was told by his very political father, and a perceived closeness between Peter and his physically disabled, but intellectually highly charged brother James. James, who was unable to fight, used his pen to great effect to encourage rebellion in 1848. Arrested following the all-too-usual suppression of the rebellion by the British authorities, followed by the all-too-usual overly brutal repression of Irish hankerers after basic freedoms and equality, James was imprisoned, fell ill, released, and died shortly afterwards.
Whether Peter took part in the 1848 rebellion is unknown, although there is a letter from James to another brother calling for him to bring Peter and pikes to the rebellion. The failed uprising was shortly followed by the terrible potato famine, its impact much exacerbated by appalling British policy. The famine struck Ireland and Highland Scotland with devastating effects, causing not only huge numbers of deaths from starvation and disease, but even more of the barely alive to tearfully leave Ireland (and Scotland) for other countries, including Australia.
Despite coming from a comparatively "safe" background, Peter was surrounded on all sides by the most ghastly suffering, people literally dying in the streets and roads of Ireland. The failure of the 1848 revolt seems to have confirmed in his mind the uselessness of fighting for freedom against the authorities in Ireland, making it essential, if he wanted to live as a fully free and equal man, that he leave.
We don't necessarily agree with the theory that, embittered by the failed 1848 rebellion, his much-loved brother's death, and the total lack of any apparent concern by the British authorities at the disastrous famine unfolding in Ireland, Lalor was quick to encourage a violent revolt against the equivalent authorities in Victoria. However, there can be little doubt these events must have had an effect on his decision to leave Ireland, and on his apparent disgust at the Ballarat authorities' oppressive and violent tactics against the kind of hardworking, independently self-employed men he believed to be the backbone of the colonies.
But most of this is almost pure speculation. So let's stick to what we know. Mostly. Quite how Lalor was chosen as the miners' leader is unclear, although following the start of construction of the stockade there was a meeting of divisional "captains" which elected him. At the meeting on 30 November, it rather looks as though he just stepped up and took over, which again possibly points to some kind of preparation and planning, or perhaps just a degree of forwardness. Oh, blast. We're off the knowledge again. Sorry. Back to the known.
Lalor's speech and oath, if the crowd was as large as it seems, would have been heard only by those fairly close to him. So those who took the oath would be fairly few, as most of the crowd didn't already know the words, and there seemed to be no effort to pass the words along, or for Lalor to speak slowly so the crowd could speak following him. Perhaps if there had been some organisation of events, an attempt may have been made to repeat Lalor's words throughout the crowd.
The general indication from historians is that any such discussions took the form of an argument between the Chartists, who opposed a rebellion, and Vern, Carboni, and Lalor, who were to varying degrees less opposed. Vern and Carboni, despite their highly colourful and vociferous demands for "action", their almost comical self-aggrandising, their self-evidenced insistence on having military expertise, and who absolutely detested one another, proved to be hollow men. Vern with his over-long sword proved to be useless, and Carboni appears to have spent at least some of the battle hidden up a chimney.
Lalor was perfectly open about his complete lack of military expertise, and his need for a militarily capable sidekick. When he finally found one, he too appears to have been a hollow man, although there is a significant degree of mystery about him. One of the problems with Eureka as a rebellion is that the miner participants and their allies mostly knew nothing about one another, and it proved all-too-easy for charlatans and mountebanks to infiltrate the leadership ranks, some of whom proved useless, some of whom were dangerous, insofar as they claimed expertise they didn't have, possibly leading to the deaths of several participants, and some of whom may even have been traitors to the cause.
Some historians point to Lalor being more fiery than the Chartists because of the stories he was told by his very political father, and a perceived closeness between Peter and his physically disabled, but intellectually highly charged brother James. James, who was unable to fight, used his pen to great effect to encourage rebellion in 1848. Arrested following the all-too-usual suppression of the rebellion by the British authorities, followed by the all-too-usual overly brutal repression of Irish hankerers after basic freedoms and equality, James was imprisoned, fell ill, released, and died shortly afterwards.
Whether Peter took part in the 1848 rebellion is unknown, although there is a letter from James to another brother calling for him to bring Peter and pikes to the rebellion. The failed uprising was shortly followed by the terrible potato famine, its impact much exacerbated by appalling British policy. The famine struck Ireland and Highland Scotland with devastating effects, causing not only huge numbers of deaths from starvation and disease, but even more of the barely alive to tearfully leave Ireland (and Scotland) for other countries, including Australia.
Despite coming from a comparatively "safe" background, Peter was surrounded on all sides by the most ghastly suffering, people literally dying in the streets and roads of Ireland. The failure of the 1848 revolt seems to have confirmed in his mind the uselessness of fighting for freedom against the authorities in Ireland, making it essential, if he wanted to live as a fully free and equal man, that he leave.
We don't necessarily agree with the theory that, embittered by the failed 1848 rebellion, his much-loved brother's death, and the total lack of any apparent concern by the British authorities at the disastrous famine unfolding in Ireland, Lalor was quick to encourage a violent revolt against the equivalent authorities in Victoria. However, there can be little doubt these events must have had an effect on his decision to leave Ireland, and on his apparent disgust at the Ballarat authorities' oppressive and violent tactics against the kind of hardworking, independently self-employed men he believed to be the backbone of the colonies.
But most of this is almost pure speculation. So let's stick to what we know. Mostly. Quite how Lalor was chosen as the miners' leader is unclear, although following the start of construction of the stockade there was a meeting of divisional "captains" which elected him. At the meeting on 30 November, it rather looks as though he just stepped up and took over, which again possibly points to some kind of preparation and planning, or perhaps just a degree of forwardness. Oh, blast. We're off the knowledge again. Sorry. Back to the known.
Lalor's speech and oath, if the crowd was as large as it seems, would have been heard only by those fairly close to him. So those who took the oath would be fairly few, as most of the crowd didn't already know the words, and there seemed to be no effort to pass the words along, or for Lalor to speak slowly so the crowd could speak following him. Perhaps if there had been some organisation of events, an attempt may have been made to repeat Lalor's words throughout the crowd.
And, you might ask, where did he get this idea? Well, it was back in the auld country, Ireland. His father and brothers, while believers in the vote for catholics, were principally fighting for the rights of landholders, men running the business of farming. The equivalent of the Ballarat miners. And in both cases, he wanted either land rights for these men, or, in Ireland, where actually getting hold of the land freehold would be extremely difficult, relaxed leases with strong protections for the leaseholder.
Okay, so the land rights weren't there yet. But they were coming, and Lalor would have his time to vote for them. Okay, they were a schemozzle, the Selection Acts, rigged by landholders to make it extremely hard for the selectors to survive on the land, but it was a start.
Was Eureka worth it? Again, this is a matter for personal judgement. While some reform would have come in anyway, indeed was on a ship on its way to Australia at the very time men were screaming their deaths for reform, it would been only partial, with the totality almost certainly much slower coming. As, indeed, it was in Britain. All those deaths. All those wounds. All those fatherless children. All those single income mothers. Was it worth it? We can't decide, with the pragmatic reformist arguing with the humanist in us. Sorry, you'll have to make up your own minds.
Universal male suffrage came in, unopposed by the majority of MPs in the upper and lower houses, in 1857.