"Eureka Reminiscences" edited by Ballarat Heritage Services is a collection of stories by Eureka riot veterans. Their controversial memories of the stockade were reported in newspapers at the time of the 1904 Jubilee Celebrations. The reminiscences are vivid and capture the spirit of the affair. The Ballarat Courier calls the book "simple but meaty, ... one of the most stunning accounts yet on Eureka".
"Eureka Reminiscences" is an eighty-four page illustrated book, with a comprehensive index. It gives accounts rarely told about Eureka, its people and the surrounding circumstances. Also, the companion volume, "Eureka Commemoration" portrays the subsequent ways that Eureka has been commemorated, the significance of Eureka, and lists many names of the survivors and those involved in the events.
The 1904 anniversary photograph of Eureka veterans is not fully named. Dot Wickham and Clare Gervasoni of Ballarat Heritage Services, a business dedicated to the promotion of local history, are looking for assistance in naming those in this photograph. If you can assist please contact Dot and Clare at the address below.
Their forthcoming publication is "Eureka Commemoration" and they would appreciate any letters, diaries, news items, obituaries of survivors and commemorative details of Eureka also, to enable the most accurate story to be told.
"One of the Insurgents"
A. W. Arnold
Dr. W.H. Fitchett
Mrs. E. Rowlands
Michael Canny remembers...
"My brother Patrick, who is now a farmer at Bungaree, and I were in the stockade fight. I was a young fellow of 18 or 19. When the fight began Teddy Moore, John Hines, my brother and I were standing behind a dray turned up on its heels, with the shafts in the air. It was bright moonlight, and we saw the redcoats blazing away at us. I had my own rifle and fired several shots. I saw Captain Wise fall, and a couple of soldiers take him by the shoulders and drag him behind a mullock heap. Teddy Moore and John Hines fell dead beside us. Then my brother was hit with a bullet, which splintered his shin bone, and he was stretched out. I had my rifle ready for another shot when a bullet pierced my right arm, went in at my side, and out under the breast-bone. It did not hurt, but the blood spurted out, and scared me, I threw the rifle down and went over the stockade fence like a deer, and ran like a racer over the hill towards Pennyweight Flat where our tents were. In the early morning light I could see two troopers coming towards me. There were a cluster of tents near by with a break-wind of brushwood round them. I ran for them and crawled under the brushwood until the troopers passed, and then made for my tent. My sister-in-law was in the neighbouring tent and she brought a cloth and a bucket of water, and I pulled off my shirt, and kept bathing the wound in my side with water to try and stop the bleeding. Someone carried word to Dr Carr that I was wounded, and he came along during the morning and dressed the wound. My brother was taken with the prisoners, and went to the camp hospital, where he remained six or seven weeks. We were in a great state of terror for days after the fight. All sorts of rumours were flying about that we were going to be all shot and the tents burned. On the morning Sir Robert Nickle came on to the field with over 800 men, and the field guns, two or three days after the fight, I was lying in the bunk with only my shirt and trousers on. As I saw the troops filing along the road I thought, like a young fool, that the end was near. Bare-headed and bare-footed as I was, I bolted for the bush, towards Warrenheip. My feet gave me more pain than my side, so I ran breathless into the scrub. I went back in the afternoon to the tent hardly able to walk, my feet were so badly cut. I had a bad time for months with the wound in my side. It was nearly a year before it properly healed, and I was able for work again. We lost our claim, windlass, buckets, ropes, and tools and nearly 2000 slabs which went to build the stockade, when it was burnt by the soldiers. Before I left the stockade I saw Lalor stagger and drop his gun, and stoop quickly to pick it up with the other hand, but I did not know till afterwards that he was then wounded."
'The Argus', Saturday 3 December, 1904