Vox populi, vox Dei.
In the course of the day (December 7th), in spite of all the bayonets and blunderbusses, the report reached us that the Melbourne people had had a Monster Meeting of their own, equal to ours of November 29th, and that Mr. Foster, the “Jesuit,” had been dismissed from office.
The tragical act on Ballaarat was over; the scenery changed; and the comedy now proceeded to end in the farce of the State Trials in Melbourne.
Between Wednesday and Thursday, all the 160 prisoners were liberated, with the necessary exception of thirteen, reserved to confirm the title of this book.
I do not wish to omit one significant circumstance. On Tuesday night, December 5th, I was hobbled for the night to young Fergusson, an American, and shared with him his blankets. I felt very much for this young man, for he suffered from consumption; and as I do respect him, so I shall not disclose our private conversation. This, however, is to the purpose. He was among us, and with us at four o’clock on Saturday, at one and the same time when spy Peters was within the stockade.
No spy, no trap, no trooper appeared against young Fergusson. Doctor Kenworthy, his countryman, had the management of getting him off. I was glad at his obtaining his liberty, because he was a brave, kind-hearted, republican-minded young American, and I intend to keep his blue blankets he left to me in prison for my comfort, in his remembrance.
Raffaello Carboni. The Eureka Stockade: The Consequence of Some Pirates Wanting on Quarter-Deck a Rebellion, Public Library of South Australia, Adelaide, 1962 [facsimile of the 1855 edition], pages 87-88
vox populi, vox Dei = (Latin) “the voice of the people is the voice of God”