"Miners of Burrangong!" said Allen. "This meeting is convened for the purpose of taking into consideration whether Burrangong is a European goldfield or Chinese territory. As chairman of the meeting I want to say that the diggers on this field have always maintained good order and I am sure that today's proceedings will not be a libel on our past good conduct. There have been some assaults during the past month on gambling houses and shanties of Chinese ownership. This proves that the miners only wish to be rid of a nuisance to us all. If any breach of the peace should occur at this meeting, I shall be the first man to assist the Commissioner and his staff in quelling it..."
"Hear! Hear!" said Commissioner Griffin loudly. The crowd laughed and applauded. "I now," proceeded the chairman, "call on Mr Stewart to address you."
A storm of cheering broke out as a powerfully built digger. with a spade beard, and wearing a red Crimea shirt and moleskin trousers, stepped on to the platform. Stewart, with two other diggers, named Cameron and Spicer, were the convenors of the meeting.

"Mr Chairman, gentlemen, and fellow miners! If it had not been for treachery on the part of a person unknown to me, who pulled our notices down, we should have had six times the gathering here today" (A voice: "It was the Commissioner.") "Commissioner or no Commissioner, it was an unconstitutional act, but it matters little now since we are sufficient in numbers to do what we want to do." (Vehement cheering.)

"Proud I am to see that you have so nobly responded to this roll-up. We have assembled to discuss a very important and serious question - shall the Burrangong goldfield become a Chinese territory or a European diggings?"(Cries of "European diggings!" and "Down with the pigtails!")
"There are not less than fifteen or sixteen hundred Chinese at present on this field, and thousands more are already on the road hither." (Cries of "Stop them!" "Turn them back!")

"Now, gentlemen, shall the Chinese monopolize the goldfield that we have prospected and developed?" (Cries of "No! No! Down with them!")
"And shall we, as men and British subjects, stand tamely by and allow the bread to be plucked from the mouths of ourselves, our wives and children by those pigtailed, moon-faced barbarians?" (Uproar and shouts of "Drive them out!")
"Men who would not spend one farthing in the colony if they could avoid it? Men did I say? Oh, my prophetic soul, my comrades! Monkeys I ought to have said!"

Hurricane cheers burst forth as the orator, thoroughly warmed up by now, mopped his brow with his bandana, then continued with fervour: "The behaviour of these Chinamen verifies the words of the popular song by Charles Thatcher:"
"Blow 'em I say;
Scores arrive every day,
Get all they can,
Then hook it away!"
(Cheers.)

"And these are the beings whom the government class as the companions of civilized Christians!" (Cries of "We won't have them!") "These are the beings who, in a court of justice, are allowed to rank equal with a European,whose very life, more than once, has trembled in the balance of these miscreants' oaths!" (Shouts of "Away with the wretches!")

"Oh, horrible mockery and disgrace to the British Constitution! A Christian's very life may be affected by an oath - now, keep your ears open, gentlemen - an oath sworn by cutting a ♥♥♥♥'s head off, breaking a saucer, or blowing out a candle, which is now known to be only a piece of complete humbug in their own country." (Vehement cheering, and cries of "Shame!")

"We are now, I may safely say, on a goldfield which has every appearance of being a permanent one, the only goldfield in this colony on which the hard-working miner, the mainstay of the country, can eke out more than a bare subsistence. Now, our livelihood is about to be torn from our grasp. How, and by whom? By the curse, the plague of the country, namely Chinamen!" (Shouts of "Never! Never!" "Down with them!")

"How long will the Burrangong diggings continue to be the support of thousands upon thousands of poor men, making an honest livelihood, if the Chinese are allowed to pour in upon us in countless numbers? Why, six months would see the field worked out! What then, could the diggers do? Where could they go? God help the poor men who have wives and families depending on them. I will tell you what they can do. They can starve!" (Great uproar and execrations at the Chinamen.)

"Perhaps you would like to go and work for the squatters at six or seven shillings a week and rations." (A tumult of hisses and groans.) "Well, that is what will happen unless we take some measures to stop this gross outrage on our rights." ("Hear, hear!")

"Then, men and fellow miners, let us assert our rights before God and man - in the clear face of day - like freeborn Britons - and prevent ourselves from being trampled to the dust like dogs." (Great confusion and prolonged uproar.)

"I now have pleasure in moving the following resolution."
The speaker took a piece of paper from his pocket and read aloud: "Since the government will not protect us, our wives, familes and occupations, from the incursions of a race of savages, we bind ourselves, to a man, to give all Chinese two days' notice to quit the Burrangong goldields; and in the event of their not complying with that request, we bind ourselves to take such measures as shall satisfactorily rid the mining community of the Burrangong forever of such pests and nuisances."

Stewart stepped down from the rostrum and a digger named Dayton stood in his place, to second the resolution. But the crowd, raised to fury by Stewart's eloquence, wanted no more speeches. They yelled, whistled and threw their hats in the air.
"No notice!" yelled a man in the rear and the crowd took up the cry: "No notice! Don't give the yellow
bastards two days' notice! Sweep them out now! Out with the Chinamen! No more Chinamen at Burrarigong!"
The band began to play and the band wagon, with its Union Jack flying, moved slowly away towards the Chinese quarter, followed by a dense cloud of miners. The Commissioner and his escort galloped around the edges of the crowd, haranguing and admonishing - but in vain.

The miners were determined to sweep the Chinese like chaff before the wind. Now they were silent and sullen in their determination.

Poor Ned, you're better off dead
At least you'll get some peace of mind
You're out on the track
They're right on your back
Boy they're 'gonna hang you high

Eighteen hundred and seventy eight
Was the year I remember so well
They put my father in an early grave
Slung my mother in gaol
Now I don't know what's right or wrong
But they hung Christ on nails
Six kids at home and two still on the breast
They wouldn't even give her bail

Poor Ned, you're better off dead
At least you'll get some peace of mind
You're out on the track
They're right on your back
Boy, they're 'gonna hang you high

You know I wrote a letter
'Bout Stringy-Bark Creek
So they would understand
That I might be a bushranger
But I'm not a murdering man
I didn't want to shoot Kennedy
Or that copper Lonnigan
He alone could have saved his life
By throwing down his gun

Poor Ned, you're better off dead
At least you'll get some peace of mind
You're out on the track
They're right on your back
Boy, they're 'gonna hang you high

You know they took Ned Kelly
And they hung him in the Melbourne gaol
He fought so very bravely
Dressed in iron mail
And no man single-handed
Can hope to break the bars
It's a thousand like Ned Kelly
Who'll hoist the flag of stars

Poor Ned, you're better off dead
At least you'll get some peace of mind
You're out on the track
They're right on your back
Boy, they're 'gonna hang you high

The price of wool was falling in 1891
The men who owned the acres saw something must be done
"We will break the Shearers' Union, and show we're masters still
And they'll take the terms we give them, or we'll find the men who will"

From Claremont to Barcaldine, the shearers' camps were full
Ten thousand blades were ready to strip the greasy wool
When through the west like thunder, rang out the Union's call
"The sheds'll be shore Union or they won't be shorn at all"

Oh, Billy Lane was with them, his words were like a flame
The flag of blue above them, they spoke Eureka's name
"Tomorrow," said the squatters, " you may not be so gay.
We're bringing in free labour just to get the clip away"

"Tomorrow," said the shearers, "You may not be so keen
We can mount three thousand horsemen, to show you what we mean"
"Then we'll pack the west with troopers, from Bourke to Charters Towers
You can have your fill of speeches but the final strength is ours"

"Be damned to your six-shooters, your troopers and police
The wool is getting heavy, the burr is in the fleece"
"Then if Nordenfeldt and Gatling won't bring you to your knees
We'll find a law," the squatters said, "that's made for times like these"

To trial at Rockhampton, the fourteen men were brought,
The judge had got his orders, the squatters owned the courts,
But for every man whose sentenced, there's a thousand won't forget,
While they jail a man for striking, it's a rich man's country yet!