60
XLVI.
NON IRASCIMINI.
Saturday morning. The night had been very cold, we had kept watch for fear of being surprised; every hour the cry, was "The military are coming."
Vern had enlarged the stockade across the Melbourne road, and down the Warrenheip Gully.
Suppose, even that diggers who had fire arms had been present and plucky, yet no man in his right senses will ever give Vern the credit for military tactics, if that gallant officer had thought that an acre of ground on the surface of a hill accessible with the greatest ease on every side, simply fenced in by a few slabs placed at random, could be defended by a handful of men, for the most part totally destitute of military knowledge, against a disciplined soldiery, backed by swarms of traps and troopers.
Such, however, was our infatuation, that now we considered the stockade stronger, because it looked more higgledy-piggledy.
XLVII.
NON NOBIS, NON NOBIS, SED PAX VOBISCUM.
It was eight o'clock. Drilling was going on as on the previous day. Father Smyth came inside the stockade: it was my watch. He looked very earnest, a deep anxiety about the hopelessness of our struggle, must have grieved his Irish heart. He obtained permission from Lalor to speak to those under arms, who belonged to his Congregation. Vern consented, and Manning announced it to the men. Father Smyth told them, that the government Camp was under arms, some seven or eight hundred strong; that he had received positive information, that government had sent other reinforcements from Melbourne, which would soon reach Ballaarat; warned them against useless bloodshed; reminded them that they were Christians; and expressed his earnest desire to see all of them at Mass on the following (Sunday) morning.
Father Smyth, your advice was kindly received; if it did not thrive, was it because you sowed it on barren ground?
