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Mr. Rede, the resident Commissioner, arrives, and endeavours to pacify the people by speechifying; but it will not do. He mounts the sill of where was once a window, and gesticulates to the crowd to hear him. An egg is thrown from behind a tent opposite, and narrowly misses his face, but breaks on the wall of the house close to him. The Commissioner becomes excited, and orders the troopers to take the man in charge; but no trooper appears to relish the business.
A cry of "Fire!" is raised; a horse shies and causes commotion. Smoke is seen to issue from one of the rooms of the ground-floor. The police extinguish it; and an attempt is made to form a cordon round the building. But it is too late. Whilst the front of the hotel occupies the attention of the majority of the crowd, a few are pulling down the back premises.
Mr. Rede sends for the detachment of the gallant 40th, now stationed on Ballaarat.
A shout is raised:—"The 40th are coming."
"Don't illuminate till they come."
"They shall see the sight."
"Wait till they come."
Smash goes the large lamps in front of the Hotel. The troopers ride round and caracole their horses.
"Where's the red-coats?"
"There they come, yonder up the hill!"
"Hurrah! three cheers."
The 40th arrive; they form into line in front of the hotel, swords drawn, "Hurrah! boys! no use waiting any longer."—"Down she comes." The bowling alley is on fire.—Police try to extinguish the flames—rather too warm.—It's too late.—The hotel is on fire at the back corner; nothing can save it.—"Hip hip hurrah!" is the universal shout.
I had opportunities enough to observe in London, that a characteristic of the British race is to make fun of the calamity of fire, hence I did not wonder, how they enjoyed this, their real sport on the occasion.
A gale of wind, which blowed at this exact time, announcing the hurricane that soon followed, was the principal helper to the devouring of the building, by blowing in the direction most favourable to the purpose.
The red-coats wheel about, and return to the Camp. Look out! the roof of the back part of the hotel, falls in! "Hurrah! boys, here's the porter and ale with the chill off."
Bottles are handed out burning hot—the necks of two bottles are knocked together!—Contents drunk in colonial style.—Look out! the roof, sides and all fall in!—An enormous mass of flame and smoke arises with a roaring sound.—Sparks are carried far, far into the air, and what was once the Eureka Hotel, is now a mass of burning embers!
