"More sinned against than sinning."
—Shakespeare.
When a man had finished his sentence in
the chain gang, he was sentenced to a road
party, and it was Heaven to the chain gang.
There was not so much slavery, and it was
possible to get a sort of bed to lie down on
at night, if it were only a sheet of ti-tree
bark. The men got a little more food, too,
and they were allowed to cook it themselves;
but it was often a straggling piece of meat
with about as much fat on it as would grease
the eye of a packing-needle. One man always
remained to mind the camp while the others
were at work, and very often he used to do
what was known as "weeding"—that was,
taking a little out of each man's allowance
of provisions, and then he had a little to sell
and get money to buy himself some tea and
sugar. But one of them went too far at
this game at last and was caught; then
there was a fearful uproar. The overseer
was going to take him to court straight away,
but the other men said they would rather
settle it amongst themselves, and this they
did by each man giving him three blows on
the back with a knotted handkerchief; for
if he had been taken to court, he was almost
certain to get six months in irons, as the
authorities did not believe in the men robbing
one another of their food. I gave him
three good hits, and the handkerchief used
to rebound like India-rubber.
In the road party it was a funny sight to
see some of the flash "specials" using a cross-cut
saw. Their hands were very soft, and
they used to tie pieces of old shirts round
the handles at each end to protect them.
They generally liked a saw that would
'pinch,' so that they would have an excuse
to go to the camp for a maul and wedges to
drive into the cut and prevent the pinching;
thus they schemed and wasted their time.
In the middle of work I often heard them
commence to talk about the fine wine they
had drank at some of the big inns in London—"The
Angel at Islington," "The Hole in
the Wall," or "The Elephant and Castle,"
for instance, and some of them had never
tasted wine in their lives. At night they
began to 'blow' about how they had done
some of the honest merchants in England out
of large and small sums of money; but it
was a different tale now—they saw very
little money in the road party.
But some of them had fine times of it
during one boss's term of office, for he did
not abuse them. It was different when old
Major S—— came along to inspect them.
He came along once while I was there, and
said to one fellow, "Hulloa! what did you
get sent out for?" "Forgery on Mr. So and
So," was the answer. "Dear me! he's a
particular friend of mine. Here, constable,
take the tail off his coat and brand him all
over."
The constable then cut the tail of his coat
close off around the waist and branded him
all over, leaving such a smell of paint from
the brands that the flies would keep off him
for a good many days afterwards.
Proceeding further the overseer pulled
another fellow up—"And what was your
occupation at home, and how came you to be
sent out here?" "I was a schoolmaster,
and was sent out for embezzlement," he
answered. "A fine fellow to teach scholars
how to rob people. Here, constable, take
and brand him," and he shared the same
fate.
A third fellow, in answer to a similar
question, said, "I used to drive my carriage
and four at home, sir." "Then you will
drive a wheelbarrow and one out here!" He
was branded, too.
They looked first-class with a pick and
shovel, and at making a damper—they had
no more idea of this than a kangaroo. Some
of them frequently said that they were well
off in England, and yet they were the
greatest villains under the sun. If a man
were possessed of any little thing out of the
common they tried all sorts of plans to get it
from him, and if unsuccessful by fair means,
they would steal it from him. Every man
had to do his own washing, and these "specials"
would rub away at their duck pants
with a piece of soap about the size of a halfpenny.
The soap was something like the
sugar they got for their "hominy"—it was
visible, and that was all.
The Police Magistrate came along once
and heard one of the party pass a remark
which he did not like, so he said, "Jack, if
I could find a man to give you 50 lashes, you
would get it." Up sprang a short fellow,
named Ned ——, and exclaimed, "I will
give it to him for you; if you'll promise me
he won't have the satisfaction of flogging me
afterwards."
"I promise you he will not have that
privilege," said the P.M.
"Well, then," said Ned, "I'm in office."
He got Jack on the "three-legged mare,"
as they used to call it, and started flogging.
Jack sang out, "You're not hitting me
properly."
"I'm doing my best to please you," he
said, "so you must take it as it comes."
He gave him another lash and said,
"There, does that please you?"
"No," exclaimed Jack.
"My G——," he said, "it seems you're
hard to please, but you will have to take it
as well as I can give it to you."
This Jack was a well-educated man, and a
frightful rogue into the bargain; for if he
got a man drunk he would pick his pocket
and then take him to the lock-up afterwards.
The chief constable said to him one day,
"Jack, the men tell me that you rob them."
"Well, sir, I might as well have the money
as them; for they only kill themselves with
drink and put the Government to more
expense."
As soon as this man got free, he went
home to his friends.
Old Major —— was hard on these
"specials;" if they did the least thing it meant
"50," and he would sing out to the flogger,
"Tip it into him," and afterwards they were
sent to a road party.
Two blind men were brought before him
one day on a small charge, and he asked,
"What have you two to say for yourselves?"
Their reply was the throwing of two half-bricks
at him, and one struck him above the
eye. For this they were committed for
trial, and afterwards sentenced to three
years at Norfolk Island.
H—— was the name of one of these
"specials," and when using the spade he
stood as upright as a yard of pump-water;
but when the overseer spoke to him, he had
the appearance of a goose looking down a
bottle. When this fellow became free, he
went to Sydney, and used to walk about with
a gold-headed cane selling eye-lotion.
Most of the "specials" were merely clerks
and were sent to this Settlement so that they
would not be able to write home and tell how
things were going on. They appeared to just
do as they liked with those who were under
them. If a man did not put his hand to his
hat when passing of the bosses, and pay
them what was termed "respect," he was
liable to "50;" if he gave any of them a
sharp answer he was sure of "50," and if he
said nothing at all, it was considered to be
"silent contempt," and this meant the same
"50," so a man might as well do something
as be punished for nothing. This is how
men who had to work for them were treated.
It was a singular thing, however, that not
one of these bosses died worth as much
money as they could "jingle on a tombstone."
The worst wretches that a man could be
put to work under were those who had been
sent to the country themselves. They were
far worse than men who came out free, and
how men put up with the tyranny of these
brutes is far beyond my conception.
In those days there were very few guns
procurable, and it was a rare thing to see
even an old flint musket. Pat —— was
ordered to get "50" every morning for a
week for taking to the bush with one of
these muskets. He begged of the boss to let
him have the whole week's flogging at once,
and so he got it. This old brute used to
glory in seeing a man being literally chopped
to pieces, and stood by, saying, "Tip it into
him!"
The bosses in these road parties were often
men with wooden legs, and were put over
these men as they were considered unfit for
any other purpose. If annoyed, they
thought nothing of taking a stick—sometimes
their wooden legs—and striking the
men with them. One noted cripple turned
on me one morning, but I retaliated with
an axe-handle, and gave him a good thrashing.
After this I bolted, but was caught a
few days afterwards, and received 12 months
in irons for my trouble. I could not put up
with hard work, and be knocked about by a
hopping dog of a man as well.
These cripples were only allowed a few
men to gather shells, cut bridle tracks for
them, and so on, in remuneration for their
labor as overseers; but a man like H——,
the notorious overseer, got 3s 3d per day, his
rations, a hut-keeper to cook for him, and
another man to get wood and water. These
fools would almost stand the flesh being cut
off their bones rather than lose their billets.
One mean-looking fellow in the road party
was sent to this country for obtaining money
under the garb of a priest, and there was one
poor simple Irishman in the gang from whom
he used to get flour on the pretence that
he would give him his blessing. But it was
the flour he was blessing—not poor O'Brady.
Perhaps the most gentlemanly and refined
man in the gang was a tall and stately fellow
named R——, who was a great friend of
the Rev. Mr. ——. This poor wretch was
to be pitied. He used to go about with
two old caps tied up round his feet for shoes,
and his 1lb. of "staggering bob," when
cooked and eaten, was almost as nothing
to him by way of checking hunger. On
more than one occasion he walked to Kathie
Creek—10 miles along the sea-beach south
from the Settlement—and there he got a
meal of 'clams' or 'cockles;' he would also
bring some back to the camp with him. The
times were hard on a man of this kind,
especially when he would walk 10 miles for
a feed; but hunger was a sharp thorn, and
"as a man's bed was made he had to lie on
it."
There was another fine-looking man in the
gang, but he was a terrible villain, and it
was supposed that he murdered a man not
far from the Settlement. Afterwards he
went to Sydney and there met his doom,
which was to be hanged for another murder,
and thus ended his career.
Port Macquarie seemed to be a depot for
rogues and villains such as these, for there
were some noted scoundrels amongst them.
The friend of a fellow named T—— was
doing some thieving once, and he gave
T—— a box to mind, which was supposed
to contain the stolen goods, until the robbery
blew over. But T—— felt the weight of
the box, and thought there was something
wrong, so he opened it, and instead of finding
the different articles, it was full of brickbats.
T—— then went and informed, and got
the thief 7 years. He always passed as
"Brickbat T——" after that, and left
Port Macquarie for the goldfields near
Bathurst about the year 1851; so a very
handy man to mind anything was lost.
Some of these fellows were made constables
in one boss's time, but when a change occurred
and another boss came, they were sent to the
roads to work with a pick and shovel. And
fine specimens they were at work, too; it
took them nearly all their time to look at
the blisters on their hands. Some of them
appeared to have been brought up well,
though, and one of these was Harry ——,
a noted highwayman. This man had no
nose; some said that he cut if off to avoid
recognition, others said that it was bitten off
by an assailant. However, he had a silver
nose, and if he happened to lose it, had to go
without till a new one came from Sydney.
There was a road party at work about two
miles out of the town and one day Harry
came riding along on his favourite mare
"Biddy." On nearing the camp the
mare took charge of him and bolted,
and in the confusion that ensued, his
nose fell off. He went some distance
before the animal got controllable; then
he came back and asked the road party's
assistance to look for the silver "snozzle."
After they had been looking a while, an old
black crow arose from amongst the ferns with
something (presumably a grub) in its beak.
One and all then declared that this was his
silver snout the bird had, and at this Harry
got in a fearful rage and went off on his horse
without a nose at all. He was not a bad-hearted
man to his fellow prisoners,
though; he would not send them to the
lock-up, but rather advise them to keep
out and escape the punishment that invariably
followed.
A prominent figure in the Settlement in
those days was a man named H——, who
was sent to the country for forging a will to
rob his orphan niece and nephew out of their
property; and a poor miserable player he
looked, carrying the "hominy" about on his
head. But finally he got out of the Government,
and his family came to the country
and started business. After this he got on
well, and one of his daughters married to advantage.
The man whom this girl became
the wife of was, however, an obstinate fellow,
and if everything did not go his way, there
was always trouble. He was expecting his
father to die, and frequently went to the post
office in anticipation of news to that effect,
but when he did not get a letter, he used to
say: "My G—! how much longer is that
old wretch going to live?" At last the poor
old fellow did "shuffle off," and, although he
had comfortable means, he did not leave the
son a penny, only some tools. H—— was a
wide-awake old fellow, and at one time had a
boot and tannery business; but he had a man
working for him who was equally wide awake.
This fellow used to cut hides down the back,
and take strips out of them wide enough to
make soles for boots or shoes. He was
caught at last, however, and received two
months in the iron gang. After this he returned
to his old master. One day, not long
afterwards, the boss went out, and this fellow
was making a pair of boots for sale on the
sly. When the boss returned, he popped in
rather suddenly, and only for the presence of
mind of his employer, a bowl out was certain.
In a second he threw himself on the floor and
pretended to be in a fit. The boss walked in,
and, seeing him, immediately went for help—not
noticing the boots he was working at or
anything else. As soon as the boss made
his exit, he got up, hid the boots he was
working at, and put another pair in their
place; and on the master's return, he was
just coming out of the fit, and soon got alright.
This man got on well afterwards in
the Settlement.
The notorious "special," H——, brought
twelve men to court one day for neglect of
work, but Mr. G——, the Police Magistrate,
said that he and another gentleman had been
looking at the poor men at work, and they
could not understand how men ran down the
slopes where they were making the road
without falling, more especially in irons; they
looked as if they were worked to death, and
he could not see in what way it would be
possible for them to neglect their work.
From the appearance of them, he thought
something to eat would do them more good
than a flogging. Then, turning to the notorious
H——, he said; "You are a prisoner
yourself, I suppose?"
"Yes, Your Worship," he answered.
The P. M.: "I thought so; you get so
much a day for bossing the men?"
"Yes," replied H——.
The P. M.: "Take them away, and don't
bring them before me again on such a
charge!"
The men turned to the Magistrate and
thanked him. They told him it was only
tyranny, and said it was a wonder how they
escaped without broken limbs, running down
such hills with loaded carts behind them.
This put an end to flogging, for the residents
of the town commenced to talk about
it. But the place did not seem to thrive,
for as soon as the Government men had gone,
and no more were coming, things were on a
downward move. There was no more convict
labor; no more fashionable balls and
parties; no more cases of wines, spirits, and
beers—nay, it was all bread, meat, and tea,
and lucky these tyrannous wretches were if
they could get that, for they had to "look
ere they leaped" too far, lest they should fall.
Some of the flash officials lived at the rate
of about £500 a year, but as soon as the
prisoners were removed their harvest was
finished, and it was as much as they could
do to keep the bailiff out. It was not, "Go
on, you rascal, or I'll take you to court,"
then; but if they wanted a man to work they
had to pay him wages. And although employers
were supposed to pay men wages,
they soon adopted another method of doing
them out of their earnings. This was done
by hiring men for six months, and, just before
their term had expired, find some fault
with them, take them to court, and get
their agreement cancelled and their pay
stopped. So it will be seen that use had
bred such habits in them that it was hard
to discontinue bringing the men to court.
However, this did not bring back the beer
and wine; a store account would soon be
upon them for the necessaries of life, and if
this were not paid within a reasonable time
there would soon be a bailiff from Sydney.
Thus they found out the loss of the poor
prisoners, whom they treated worse than
most men treat a dog, and it eventually
ended in selling off their cattle and horses
for what they would bring.
