George Sara walked into the pub with a revolver in his hand and a note to his mother in his pocket.

"If one of you move, I shoot. I shoot women and all."

It was February 21, 1898. George was only 21 years old, a stocky blond-haired bloke with a scar on his forehead and a swaggering gait.

He had already lived so hard that some witnesses thought he was in his thirties.

It was supposed to be a quiet Monday night at the Palace Hotel at Lake Wendouree in Ballarat. But George had spent the day drunk, threatening to shoot dogs or a police officer.

He was an out-of-towner. From Orange, someone said. A bicycle thief. He had only been married for four months, but he was already wanted by police in New South Wales for wife desertion.

No one took much notice until he marched into the front bar.

One of the patrons managed to slip out and get a message to the local policeman.

George continued ranting, clutching the revolver in one hand, and serving free drinks with the other.

Constable Alexander Nicholson arrived in the bar a short time later, with his baton drawn.

George opened fire during a wild struggle, but he wasn't much of a shot. Three bullets passed through Nicholson's coat, the third grazed the policeman's thumb.

"Nicholson then dealt the scoundrel a severe blow with his baton on the forehead." — The Age, February 22, 1898.

George was handcuffed, taken to hospital and then to gaol.

'Homicidal Maniac' was eventually acquitted

A newspaper article about the shooting in The Age, February 22, 1898. ( Supplied: National Library of Australia )

News of the shooting spread quickly and was reported around Australia. The headlines didn't do much for the reputation of the Sara family.

So, I'll put on the record that's he's only a distant relative.

"Crazed Drunkard" — Bairnsdale Advertiser and Tambo and Omeo Chronicle "Homicidal Maniac" — Barrier Miner "The Ballarat Shooting Sensation" — The Argus "Sensational Affray at Ballarat" — Kalgoorlie Miner "Desperate Ruffian" — The Daily News Perth

The governor of the gaol said George was one of the best behaved inmates he'd ever locked up.

He regarded him as a weak man, not a bad man. George told the court he couldn't account for his actions on the night of the shooting.

"His Honour said the case was a most extraordinary one, and at present he could not understand it." — Ballarat Star, April 21, 1898.

The court found that George was not in his right mind and he was acquitted.

George didn't know it then, but the policeman he tried to shoot at the pub in Lake Wendouree was on his way to make history in Victoria.

Pictured in the Melbourne Weekly Times April 23, 1898, news of the shooting spread quickly. ( Supplied: National Library of Australia )

What Constable Nicholson did next

Nicholson was recognised for his bravery in facing up to George, with personal congratulations from the Chief Commissioner of Police and a special stripe for valour, the first awarded in the colony.

Nicholson worked his way up through the ranks and was appointed Chief Commissioner in 1922.

But it wasn't long before his leadership style generated anger and controversy.

Nicholson appointed special plain clothes officers to monitor uniformed police on patrol.

Constables nicknamed the special officers as "spooks" and regarded them as spies.

On the night of October 31, 1923, 29 police refused to report for duty in protest against the "spooks".

The strike quickly escalated; hundreds of officers followed and were sacked by Nicholson.

Police strike leads to anarchy on the streets of Melbourne

It was spring racing carnival and there were plenty of punters with a skin full of grog and an eye for trouble.

Riots broke out in the centre of the city on Friday night, November 2, 1923.

A clipping about the police mutiny from The Argus, November 6, 1923. ( Supplied: National Library of Australia )

Shop windows shattered as rioters hurled rocks and bricks.

The crowd pushed a tram off its tracks, then pushed it back on again and drove it up and down the tracks for fun.

Store owners with pistols tried to fend off the crowd, but the looting was unstoppable.

Women filled their handkerchiefs with diamonds from jewellery stores. One man was seen carrying a grandfather clock on his back.

Others stole hats and shoes, anything they could carry. Men tried on suits before they stole them.

Some threw bloomers from the windows of clothing stores to women in the street below.

"The crowd consisted mainly of the larrikin class, who ran like rabbits." — Portland Guardian, November 5, 1923 "Scenes of unprecedented lawlessness … the worst elements in the metropolis gained temporary control of the city." — The Australasian, November 10, 1923

Thousands of volunteer constables were sworn in, including scores of returned soldiers, to bring the city back under control.

The manager of the Hoyts Deluxe cinema got up on stage and interrupted a movie, urging more men to join the temporary police force.

Hundreds of Victorian police officers went on strike, leading to riots in the centre of Melbourne. ( Supplied: National Library of Australia )

Order restored in time for Melbourne Cup

It took several days to restore order.

Calm returned by the time the 1923 Melbourne Cup was run on November 6.

The more than 600 police who went on strike were never reinstated. But they did win improved conditions for their colleagues.

The system of special constables, or "spooks", was abandoned and an improved police pension scheme was introduced.

Nicholson and the strikers were forced to appear before a royal commission in late 1924.

Nicholson was criticised for his handling of the mutiny and the events that led to it.

A newspaper article about the police strikes in The Barrier Miner, November 14, 1923. ( Supplied: National Library of Australia )

'Alexander Nicholson was my grandfather'

I decided to try to find some of Alexander Nicholson's descendants.

The search leads me to a familiar voice on the end of the phone.

"Alexander Nicholson was my grandfather."

The voice belongs to Alastair Nicholson, former Chief Justice of the Family Court of Australia, now retired. He still has a sword that belonged to his grandfather.

"My family used to say he was a man of great integrity and he had been hard done by at the Royal Commission," he says.

I tell him about George opening fire on Constable Nicholson at the pub in Ballarat in 1898.

"So, on behalf of the Sara family, I'd like to apologise that one of our relatives shot your grandfather."

Alastair Nicholson laughs.

"That's quite alright."

If George had been a more accurate shot when he took on Nicholson, history may have been very different.

"It's a very interesting thought," Alastair Nicholson says.

Epilogue

Nicholson retired as police commissioner in 1925.

He wrote a series of columns for The Age newspaper in 1927, called Tales of a Police Superintendent, reminiscing about his long career.

The police jacket he was wearing on the night George shot at him, was donated to the Victoria Police museum. The bullet holes and singe marks from the shooting were still visible.

He died at his home in Hawthorn on the March 8, 1928, after a long illness. He was 65 years old.

Newspaper article about a miners mysterious death in the Sydney Evening News, June 15, 1908. ( Supplied: National Library of Australia )

George eventually made his way back to Orange from Ballarat. His wife Isabella withdrew her complaint of desertion.

But George continued to struggle with depression, alcohol and money problems. He was declared bankrupt in March 1908.

On June 14, 1908, George booked into a room at Darley's Greyhound Hotel in Orange, after returning from the mines in Cobar.

He complained of feeling unwell in the evening, so a doctor was called.

Hours later, George was found dead, with a bottle of strychnine in his pocket.

A coroner's inquest later found he had taken his own life. George Henry Sara was 31 years old.

There was little understanding of depression in the early 1900s and few services available, especially in regional Australia.

George's wife, Isabella Sara, struggled for years after the suicide. Her son Oswald Baylis was killed in action in Gallipoli in May 1915. But she didn't receive the news for more than two years, because the army was unable to find her.

Isabella was eventually discovered in September 1917 at the Parramatta Mental Hospital. Her official address was 'c/- The Master in Lunacy'- the official guardian of psychiatric patients in New South Wales.

Isabella Sara died in Parramatta Mental Hospital in January 1920.

The position of Master in Lunacy existed in New South Wales until 1958.