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CORNELL 
 
 U NigR V B R S I T Y 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 Gift Of 
 
 Susan Williams Beelick 
 Class of 1961 
 
CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 
 3 1924 083 006 027 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924083006027 
 

TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
Tales of the Old Regime 
 
 AND THE -BULLET OF THE 
 FATED TEN 
 
 These Stories originally appeared in 
 the columns of the "Sydney Bulletin." 
 
 Geofge Robertson & Company 
 
 Melbourne,. Sydney, Adelaide, Brisbane and London 
 1897 
 
Tales of the Old Regime 
 
 AND THE -BULLET OF THE 
 FATED TEN 
 
 BY 
 
 PRICE WARUNG 
 
 Geoflge Robertson & Company 
 
 Melbourne,i Sydney, Adelaide, Brisbane and London 
 1897 
 
Butler & Tanner, 
 
 The Selwood Printing Works, 
 
 Frome, and London. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Tales of the Old Regime 
 
 PAGE 
 
 "Mr. ~ Pounce, Writer and Forger". . i 
 
 The Burial at Govett's Leap . . -27 
 
 Bob Warphy's Kindly Deed . . -S3 
 
 The Liberation of the First Three . 77 
 
 The Liberation of the Other Three . 101 
 
 A Day with Governor Arthur . . .131 
 
 The Henry Porcher Bolter . . .159 
 * 
 
 4 
 
 John Price's Bar of Steel . . .181 
 
V1J1 CONTENTS 
 
 The Bullet of the Fated Ten 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I At Three o'Clock p.m. . . . 199 
 
 II As the Night Fell . . . .206 
 
 III As the Morning Rose . . .216 
 
 IV The Answer to the Slate . .221 
 V The Sunday Vigil .... 225 
 
 VI At Ten o'Clock p.m. . . . 234 
 
 VII An Hour Later 241 
 
Tales of the Old Regime 
 
 "MR. POUNCE, 
 WRITER AND FORGER" 
 
 ALL the trouble arose through Copper-plate 
 Josephs' little joke, and it is accordingly 
 necessary to say a few words about Copper- 
 plate Josephs himself. 
 
 That inimitable artist in bank-note engrav- 
 ing, having, in the judgment of the Governor and 
 directors of the Bank of England, reached so 
 eminent a degree of proficiency in his profes- 
 sion as to render it (in the interests of their 
 dividends) very desirable that he should be ex- 
 patriated, had been a resident of Old Sydney 
 for a^ear or two. His fame had preceded him, 
 and as, from the circumstances attending his 
 conviction, he was to be freed the moment he 
 
 B 
 
2 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 set foot upon the shores of the new Britannia of 
 the Southern World, it cannot be said that the 
 intimation of his arrival had imparted much 
 pleasure to Mr. D'Arcy Wentworth, President 
 of the Bank of New South Wales, and the other 
 magnates of banking circles. 
 
 " Have you heard, Mackaness," asked the 
 gentlemanly veteran, " that that rascally bank- 
 note forger Josephs is being sent out ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wentworth ; my last Times said 
 that he had been respited as a preliminary to 
 transporting him. There seems to be some- 
 thing peculiar about his conviction. There was 
 no direct evidence against him." 
 
 " That's my own impression ! " replied the ex- 
 Police Magistrate, ex- Principal Surgeon, and 
 ex-twenty other functionaries, and present Bank 
 President. "Seems to me they've only got 
 moral evidence against him, but have succeeded 
 in frightening him so that he'll come out for 
 good. PVaps they'll give him a grant and his 
 freedom. If they do, we'll have to watch him." 
 
 " Certainly ! " said Solicitor Mackaness ; "he'll 
 have to be watched in any case." 
 
 Consequently, when the celebrated note-forger 
 having been " morally " convicted on purchased 
 evidence — in those days perjurers stood for hire 
 
"MR. POUNCE, WRITER AND FORGER " 3 
 
 at per hour within the precincts of the Old 
 Bailey — condemned to death, respited, and 
 " sent out," was duly dropped by the transport 
 ship Hercules into an armed guard-boat which 
 palpitated gently on the " lucid bosom " of 
 Sydney Cove, he was the recipient of much 
 anxious care. 
 
 "Josephs, Henry, life, ship's No. 23 — To 
 Governor at once," cried the Principal Superin- 
 tendent's clerk. And into General Ralph 
 Darling's august presence went the specially 
 honoured Josephs. With the Governor were 
 Sheriff Macquoid and Banker Wentworth. 
 
 "Josephs," said his Excellency, "his Lord- 
 ship, the Secretary of State for Colonial Affairs, 
 has been pleased to direct me to extend you his 
 Most Gracious Majesty's clemency, on con- 
 ditions. On conditions, Josephs ! " 
 
 Josephs, sulky and glum, simply ducked his 
 head. He wasn't going to be thankful for no- 
 thing, wasn't Convict Josephs. 
 
 " These are that, on your undertaking never 
 to follow your trade, you are to be granted two 
 hundred acres of land and your temporary free- 
 dom." 
 
 Josephs was not surprised. He had been told 
 as much " at home." He was not even grateful. 
 
4 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 " Do you promise, my man ? " questioned his 
 precise and prim Excellency. 
 
 "S'pose I must, sir. Needs must when the 
 devil drives." 
 
 The assembled group exchanged mutual 
 glances of surprise and horror. That the trans- 
 port should associate magnanimous Sir Ralph 
 with that Other Excellent Pro-Consul who 
 should have been nameless to polite ears — 
 Awful ! ! 
 
 " Sir ! " Sir Ralph drew himself up to his 
 uttermost quarter-inch. " Sir ! " 
 
 " Meant no offence, your Honour: " 
 
 "Your Excellency," corrected Mr. D'Arcy 
 Wentworth. Very obliging always was the 
 veteran, and he was never above showing a 
 courtesy to a convict. Even when he ordered a 
 flogging, he was so suave and affable that, as 
 often as not, he would elicit from the floggee a 
 "Thank you, sir!" To which the good old 
 man would respond, "You're quite welcome, 
 my man ! " 
 
 " No offence, your Excellency. Only I've 
 been 'ardly treated, sir ! " 
 
 " On shipboard ? " 
 
 " No, your Excellency. But by the Court at 
 'omej sir " 
 
" MR. POUNCE, WRITER AND FORGER " 5 
 
 " Oh, I can't hear anything as to that. Every 
 transport says the same thing. Doesn't he, Mr. 
 Macquoid ? " 
 
 " Never knew one yet who didn't say he was 
 innocent, your Excellency ! " answered the 
 Sheriff. 
 
 "But I am innocent! They've sent me out 
 on suspicion ! " persisted the engraver. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 Here let us digress to remark that this was 
 a fact, and the dignitaries present all knew it. 
 The Bank would have hanged Josephs if it 
 could for the forgery of certain hundred-pound 
 notes, and only the circumstance that the 
 Threadneedle Street authorities had nothing to 
 go upon except a microscopic dot in the con- 
 cave of the " £," which mark was supposed to 
 be the sign by which Josephs, proud, like all 
 good workmen, of his work, sought to identify 
 his peculiar achievements, had prevented the 
 realization of their amiable wish. But,.-though 
 the Bank could not hang him, it had influence 
 enough to transport him, His Majesty's Attor- 
 ney^General doubtless bringing up his mind to 
 the commission of so slight an illegality by the 
 consideration that in sending Josephs to the 
 
6 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 New World he was doing Josephs a kindly ser- 
 vice. " Josephs," he probably thought, " will be 
 sure to be hanged sooner or later if he is freed 
 here, while if he goes out there he can't fall into 
 temptation, as there are no Banks there ! " In 
 fact, we might safely go farther and assert the 
 Right Honourable Attorney-General said as 
 much, for such remarks were constantly made ■ 
 at the time, and later, by British officialdom. 
 There were few officers of State, fewer still of 
 the magistracy, but believed they were doing 
 the best for a man in transporting him. And, 
 as to the opinion as to the banking facilities 
 enjoyed at Botany Bay, why, we find that when 
 Lord Glenelg, at a much later time, was append- 
 ing his signature to a charter for an Australian 
 Bank, he expressed his hope that " the barbaric 
 system of barter would thereupon cease in the 
 colony." Which remark, emanating from a 
 Secretary for the Colonies, was profoundly sug- 
 gestive of the wisdom with which Britain has 
 governed her dependencies. Governor and dis- 
 tinguished Gaoler Hampton, of Western Austra- 
 lian and Van Demonian fame, used to express 
 his notion of Colonial Secretaries' intelligence 
 by remarking that, had they been convict-cooks, 
 they could not have stolen the men's rations 
 
"MR. POUNCE, WRITER AND FORGER " 7 
 
 without detection. In other words, they were 
 imbeciles. 
 
 This is, we say, a digression. And having 
 ended it, we proceed to state that Copper-plate 
 Josephs accepted freedom, two hundred acres 
 on the Hawkesbury, and the condition that, 
 unless specially ordered by certain prominent 
 officials, he was never to pursue his profession. 
 * * * * 
 
 The sapient Authorities did not ask how 
 Copper-plate Josephs was to live. An artist 
 who had spent thirty years over the sandbag 
 With burin, and graver, and burnisher was 
 scarcely likely to make a success as a farmer ; 
 but, obviously, it was no concern of the Powers 
 to ascertain how Convict Josephs proposed, his 
 tools of trade being withdrawn, to keep body 
 and soul together. And, to tell the truth, Con- 
 vict Josephs did not trouble about himself suf- 
 ficiently to put the question to the Authorities. 
 Had he not made, en voyage, perfect arrange- 
 ments for the transmission of certain "flash 
 'uns " to the counting-houses of the village by 
 the Thames? Ah! if the old walls of the 
 " Help me through the World " Inn, in Fitz- 
 gerald Street, Windsor, had chosen to speak? 
 they could have "put away" very nicely, not 
 
8 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 merely Mr. Copper-plate Josephs, but a certain 
 young transport-ship surgeon who made numer- 
 ous trips to and fro the dear old land. But then, 
 you see, the old bricks did not vocalise their 
 reminiscences, and consequently both Josephs 
 and his friend and " worker-off," the doctor, 
 lived long and prosperously, and died piously 
 with their boots off. 
 
 The sapient Authorities did not bother their 
 heads as to the engraver's livelihood. They did 
 no more than enter into an agreement, through 
 Mr. Mackaness, with venerable Mr. Pounce, that 
 he should watch over Mr. Josephs with a tender 
 solicitude. 
 
 "It's a sound rule, Mr. Wentworth," advised 
 Mr. Mackaness, " to set a thief to catch a thief. 
 Put Pounce, the forger, to watch Josephs, the 
 forger, and it either goes wrong the other'll 
 split. They'll be rivals in a week." Upon this 
 advice the Powers acted. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 It did not take a week to generate a first- 
 class, though disguised, enmity between the 
 brothers in "advanced penmanship," as Mr. 
 Timothy Pounce, in his moments of conviviality, 
 was wont to term the noble art and mystery of 
 forgery. For, though Mr. Pounce's specialty 
 
" MR. POUNCE, WRITER AND FORGER " O, 
 
 was the manipulation of documents, and Mr. 
 Josephs' forte was "bank notes from the plate," 
 it is, perhaps, superfluous to say that both 
 gentlemen were possessed of so intelligent and 
 fertile an ingenuity that if the preparation of a 
 will, a land-grant, or a pardon did not present 
 insuperable obstacles to Mr. Josephs' talents, 
 neither was Mr. Pounce ignorant of the process 
 of manufacturing " flash "uns." And Mr. Pounce 
 felt deeply aggrieved that just as he had suc- 
 ceeded in working up a really lucrative con- 
 nection among Civil Servants and 'Mancipists 
 who wanted the signatures imitated of Governors 
 and Members of Council, and among transports 
 who wished tickets-of-leave and pardons that 
 would pass muster a few years before they would 
 be gazetted in due course, Mr. Josephs should 
 be imported to interfere with his monopoly. 
 * * * * 
 
 Copper-plate Josephs, on receiving an interim 
 certificate of freedom, had installed himself at 
 Johnny Blackman's " Keep within Compass " 
 Hotel, in George Street, and thither Mr. Pounce, 
 instructed by Mr. John Mackaness, wended his 
 way pne afternoon. 
 
 Of tall and bulky form, Mr. Pounce was be- 
 nign and venerable in aspect, and it was with a 
 
IO TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 dignified Courtliness which would have reflected 
 grace upon an English Duke or a colonial 
 Muster-master that he handed his card to the 
 landlord. 
 
 " Take that, Jghn, please," he ordered, " to — 
 h'm — newly-freed transport Josephs. I believe 
 he has put up here. And, John, as a friend, you 
 know, I would advise you to be more careful as 
 to what characters you accommodate. Licens- 
 ing-day is coming close, and the assessors are 
 inclined to be severe." 
 
 Johnny, as he delivered his card, felt greatly 
 impressed with this exhortation. He was an old 
 friend of Pounce's, having come out in the same 
 vessel with him. Pounce was a "lifer," while 
 Johnny was only a seven-year man, and there- 
 fore the publican looked up to the "penman" 
 and revered him. In the curious topsy-turvy 
 society which the Blessed Spirit of British 
 Colonisation built up in Old Sydney, nothing 
 was more amusing than the deference which 
 " short-termers " paid to long-sentence men. A 
 twenty-year man was to the seven and ten-year 
 fellows an object of respect; a "lifer" was 
 elevated on a pedestal of reverence ; while it is 
 by no means certain that they would not have 
 bowed the knee to a worthy whose "drop "-rope 
 
"MR. POUNCE, WRITER AND FORGER II 
 
 had been cut after he had done a preliminary 
 swing or two, but before life was extinct. 
 
 3j> SjC S|C Jjt 
 
 " Gentleman to see you ! " said the landlord 
 to Josephs brusquely, tilackman's tones were 
 not so civil as they had been earlier in the day, 
 and Mr. Josephs was not slow to perceive the 
 difference. Mr. Blackman had been influenced 
 by Pounce's hint. And the new chum knew it, 
 for Mr. Pounce's words had been distinctly 
 audible to the engraver through the partition 
 which separated the bar from the bar-parlour. 
 He took the card from Blackman. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Pounce, Writing Clerk. You don't 
 call 'im a gentleman, d'ye, landlord ? Why, 
 that's old Pounce, I'll swear, who was lagged for 
 doing some ' dummy old ooman's tickets ! ' * 
 'Im a gentleman, indeed. Why, I'm surprised 
 ye allow such characters into your bar, landlord, 
 'specially as licensing-day is so close, and the 
 assessors are so severe. For, d'ye know, land- 
 lord, Pounce was not the sort o' man to be con- 
 tent with forging old ooman's tickets, but to 
 save paying three and threepence he forged the 
 name,, of his wash'woman's daughter to his 
 
 1 " Dummy old ooman's tickets " : Forged bank stock- 
 Certificates, in convict slang. 
 
12 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 wash'woman's bill. That's your Mr. Pounce, 
 landlord. Now show the gentleman in !'" With 
 such an accent upon the " gentleman ! " 
 
 Inasmuch as Mr. Pounce was blessed with the 
 best of good hearings, it will be easily believed 
 that there was no love lost between the two 
 experts from the first moment of their acquaint- 
 ance. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 " Mr. Josephs ? " queried the venerable, blue- 
 coated, brass-buttoned, and spotless-linened 
 Pounce, bowing. 
 
 Mr. Josephs arose, nodded, and desired to be 
 informed what he could do for his visitor. 
 
 Mr. Pounce did not at first say, was effusive 
 in his welcome to Mr. Josephs, sorry for his 
 " misfortune " — " but still, y' know, Mr. Josephs, 
 your personal loss is our young country's gain " 
 — was generous in ordering in a full quart of 
 rum, " to, ah, cement our 'quaintance, sir." 
 
 " Don't drink rum ! " said Mr. Josephs, not to 
 be won over by blandishments. 
 
 " Then a glass of port — a bottle of port, John 
 -—must have something for the good of the 
 house, y' know, Mr. Josephs." 
 
 " Don't drink port, and as for the good of the 
 house, as I pay my bills, Pounce, and as I don't 
 
"MR. POUNCE, WRITER AND FORGER " 1 3 
 
 forge the landlord's name to a receipt, if he ain't 
 satisfied with my custom I can go elsewhere." 
 
 "You misunderstand me, Mr. Josephs," 
 rejoined Pounce, outwardly unabashed, but 
 inwardly smarting, " really— 'you do." 
 
 " Can't say I'm sorry if I do. But you ain't 
 said what ye want." r 
 
 Mr. Pounce motioned Host Blackman to 
 leave the room, and then, drawing his chair 
 nearer to the spot where the other rogue was 
 standing, whispered : " In confidence, my dear 
 sir, I came to propose a bit of business — some- 
 thing that might be mutually profitable." 
 
 " What business ? — what d'ye mean ? " 
 
 " 'Ush, my dear sir ! Mum's the word." And 
 Mr. Pounce lowered his low voice two tones. 
 " Flash 'uns. You print, I'll work off." x 
 
 In a moment all the love of his old game and 
 all the fascination of a beautiful art, awoke 
 within Copper-plate Josephs. With the one 
 and the other there waked too, however, a doubt 
 of Mr. Pounce. Would that unadulterated 
 scoundrel prove faithful ? Might the offe,r not 
 be a trap to put him away ? A man who would 
 forge to evade payment of three and threepence 
 
 * " Work off" : To utter a forged note or " flash-'un." 
 
14 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 to a poor woman would surely be capable of 
 anything. No, he wouldn't trust Mr. Pounce, 
 and without troubling to wrap up his resolve in 
 smooth-sounding words, he communicated it to 
 his visitor. 
 
 " Not trust me ! " expostulated that offended 
 person. "Not trust me after I have put my 
 neck into your hands ! Why, you could hang 
 me for what I've said to you already ! " 
 
 " Fudge ! I ain't been a fortnight here with- 
 out learning you're hand and glove with the 
 gentlemen of the staff. They say you do all 
 Gov'ment's dirty work, and that you'll fix any- 
 thing from a death-warrant to — to— a wash'- 
 woman's bill. Shouldn't be surprised if you've 
 only come 'ere now to trap me. That's my 
 'pinion of you, Mr. Pounce — Writing Clerk." 
 
 And Mr. Pounce, bridling in the conscious- 
 ness of his insulted virtue and in the knowledge 
 that there rested in his pocket an indemnity 
 signed by a Very High Personage indeed " for 
 having made a felonious proposal to one Henry 
 Josephs," was compelled to go to Mr. Macka- 
 ness and inform him that Josephs really meant 
 to walk in the paths of rectitude henceforth. 
 
 "He wouldn't bite, Mr. Mackaness," he re- 
 ported, as he returned the indemnity to the 
 
" MR. POUNCE, WRITER AND FORGER " 1 5 
 
 solicitor (we have seen two or three such docu- 
 ments). "And for the time, at least, he means 
 to go square. But I'll drop in on him occasion- 
 ally, sir ; and if there's anything wrong, he 
 won't get the better of me. No, sir ! " 
 
 It was in this way that the fears of the Old 
 Sydney bankers, as to possible damaging effects 
 to the genuineness of their note issues accruing 
 from Copper-plate Josephs' residence in His 
 Gracious Majesty's dependency of New South 
 Wales, were allayed. If there is anything in 
 the method that savours of a dubious morality, 
 do not, we pray you, blame the colonists of Old 
 Sydney. Blame, instead, the System, .and the 
 lords and gentlemen who, sitting in the snug 
 parlour of No. 14, Downing Street, set in motion 
 the forces which created it. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 Mr. Pounce was true to his word. Again 
 and again he called on Mr. Josephs, and was 
 ever polite, albeit Josephs was ever the reverse. 
 
 It was largely due to Pounce's interest with 
 Mr. Macquoid that "Copper-plate" was per- 
 mitted to establish himself in a small office in 
 Jamiesjpn Street, and to work under the strictest 
 police supervision for the printers, besides 
 officiating as " Card and Book-plate Engraver 
 
1 6 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 to the Gentry." Pounce wisely pointed out that, 
 once Josephs was allowed to handle his tools, it 
 was only a question of time for him to take to 
 the " flash " business again, and the suggestion 
 commended itself to the Principal Superintend- 
 ent's and the Sheriff's judgments. Both these 
 high functionaries were shareholders in the local 
 banks, and they were, therefore, particularly 
 solicitous to maintain uncontaminated the purity 
 of the note issues. When an official's public 
 duty travels parallel to his private interests, it 
 is singular how indefatigable and ingenious he 
 will prove in administration. It was about this / 
 time that a Legal Great Man of Van Demonia 
 procured the reprieve of another bank-note 
 forger on the condition that the criminal would 
 never forge documents prejudicial to the Old 
 Bank. He would make no stipulation as to 
 other concerns, but as to the Old Bank — never ! 
 The Legal Great Man was a heavy stockholder 
 in the Old Bank. The Principal Superintendent 
 and the Sheriff applied a similar principle to 
 " Copper-plate." As he was not yet colonially 
 condemned, they could not well bargain with 
 him that he should leave their bank's interests 
 alone whatever other interests he attacked. But 
 they could throw a temptation or two in his 
 
"MR. POUNCE, WRITER AND FORGER I 7 
 
 way, which would have an equal potency. Once 
 he fingered his gravers, Josephs, looking at the 
 official experience of like artists, would not be 
 long before he tripped and stumbled, and then 
 — hey ho for the George Street scaffold, and in 
 the one instant the banks would "drop" Con- 
 vict Josephs and all fears of a spurious note- 
 circulation. 
 
 Pounce visited Josephs freely and frequently. 
 He put little jobs in his way, and trusted to the 
 future to make up for the temporary loss — the 
 future when Josephs having been hanged, he, 
 Pounce, would once more enjoy a monopoly. 
 Truth to say, he was very desirous Josephs 
 should lose no time in getting hanged, or at 
 least transported to Norfolk Island. Pounce's 
 schedule of charges was as follows : — 
 
 i. For Absolute Pardon, with Gazette notice, ,£30. 
 
 2. For Absolute Pardon, without Gazette notice, £10. 
 
 3. For Conditional Pardon, with Gazette notice, ,£25. 
 
 4. For Conditional Pardon, without Gazette notice, 
 
 £is- 
 
 5. Ticket- of- Leave, new form complete, with identity 
 exact, and Gazette notice, £1$. 
 
 6. Ticket-of-Leave, without Gazette notice, ^ia 
 
 7. TicKet-of-Leave, dead or absconded prisoner's form 
 altered as far as possible, £7 7s. 
 
 8. Pass to visit Country, 3 or 6 months, or Country to 
 visit Town, £3 3s. 
 
 C 
 
1 8 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 g. English Marriage Certificate, £2 2s. 
 
 10. English Certificate of Death, £2 2s. 
 
 1 1. English Letters from Home Friends, £2 2s. 
 
 12. Pass from V.D.L., £2 2s. 
 
 13. Letter from V.D.L., £ 1 is. 
 
 But Copper-plate Josephs' fees were, in every 
 case, 25 per cent less than Pounce's scale, and 
 the new man's policy of cutting prices had 
 seriously affected the old-established business. 
 
 Of course, Josephs was not up in the minutiae 
 of traffic in forged freedoms and so forth. It 
 took years of experience and careful study of 
 men and papers to concoct a document that 
 would invariably pass muster — using the term 
 in its most literal sense — as it was the Muster- 
 master's duty to examine every convict's " per- 
 sonal papers." And Josephs had not the tact 
 and bonlwmie to enlist the alliance of the neces- 
 sary officers of the Regulation Departments, or 
 the knowledge of routine obligatory, if he would 
 avert from the transport who had paid him his 
 fee the dreadful consequences of presenting false 
 papers for examination. Still, the average trans- 
 port who wished to abscond up-country or to 
 Van Demonia with "regular" papers would look 
 at the difference in the rates. He perhaps could 
 not understand that it would be the wiser course 
 
"MS. POUNCE, WRITER AND FORGER " 1 9 
 
 to pay Pounce £30 for a Free Pardon, properly 
 sealed and signed, and not only sealed and 
 signed, but registered and Gazetted as well ! 
 — how this sort of thing was done we shall tell 
 you some other day— than to fee Josephs in the 
 sum of £22 icw. for a similar document in which 
 there was some defect. The average transport, 
 in a word, could not always estimate the 
 superior quality of Forger Pounce's work, and 
 it was no wonder, therefore, that Forger Pounce's 
 income was decreasing, that he was sincerely 
 anxious that his rival in the art of penmanship 
 should be speedily hanged or otherwise put out 
 of the way, or that, to this admirable end, he 
 laboured assiduously, if somewhat secretly. 
 
 But Providence was not friendly to Mr. 
 Pounce, though he went to church twice every 
 Sunday, and Josephs had 'verted to Catholicism 
 so that he might go only the once. 1 Provi- 
 dence was, indeed, distinctly unfriendly to the 
 
 1 It was quite a common practice for Protestant trans- 
 ports to become Catholics in order to escape the double 
 Protestant service on Sunday, the Catholics being re- 
 quired to attend once only. In July, 1827, over 200 
 Protestants, barracked at Hyde Park, adverted to Mother 
 Church for this reason, but on the fact reaching the ears 
 of the Governor, they were compelled to re-ch'ange their 
 faith ! 
 
20 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 former, inasmuch as Forger Pounce did not 
 succeed in deluding "Copper-plate" into any 
 one of the numerous traps which he laid for 
 that naughty man, but himself tumbled head 
 first into the solitary pitfall which Forger 
 Josephs took the trouble to prepare for his 
 venerable rival. Which, after all, wasn't so 
 much a pitfall as a little joke. 
 
 % * % * 
 
 Mr. Timothy Pounce was of refined instincts, 
 and very natty in his personal appointments. 
 He delighted in little knick-knacks, such as 
 tassels to his cane and charms to his watch- 
 guard. His penknife — most trustworthy ally in 
 matters of erasure ! — bore a tiny silver tablet, 
 on which his name was inscribed. And, step- 
 ping into David Maziere's shop in George 
 Street one day, and observing in a counter- 
 box a charming little card-case with just such 
 another tablet thereon, the idea occurred to 
 him that the little case would not only prove 
 a convenient accessory to his comfort, but would 
 furnish him with another excuse for visiting Mr. 
 Copper-plate Josephs. The two silver" dollars 
 necessary to transfer the case from the counter 
 to his pocket were forthwith handed over — and 
 Mr. Pounce proceeded to Jamieson Street. 
 
" MR. POUNCE, WRITER AND FORGER " 2 1 
 
 " Ah ! good morning, Mr. Josephs. Delighted 
 to see you looking so well. And how's busi- 
 ness, and could you manage without incon- 
 venience during the next day or two just to 
 engrave my name on this card-case ? " 
 
 " Sixpence a letter," grunted Josephs, other- 
 wise unresponsive to his patron's seductive 
 address. 
 
 " H'm, isn't that rather high ? Especially as 
 I'm— he ! he !— in the trade ? " 
 
 " My terms ! You ain't in the trade ! " 
 
 " Ah, well, if you must, you must. ' Timothy 
 Pounce,' in Old English, please, Mr. Josephs ; 
 and when can I get it ? " 
 
 "Day after to-morrow. Cash, six and six, 
 before delivery." 
 
 " I don't think you need be anxious as. to 
 your money, Mr. Josephs. It's not my fault we 
 have not done much more business together. 
 There's a little matter now I'd like to men- 
 tion " 
 
 " Too busy to talk. Talk next time." 
 
 And Mr. Pounce left the shop in as dignified 
 a manner as was possible. Bless us, how he 
 did swear, though, as he crossed the vacant 
 ground by St. Phillip's ! 
 
22 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 He would, perchance, have sworn a little 
 louder and longer If he could have had any 
 notion of the sequeh 
 
 Naturally, as soon as he had purchased his 
 new card-case, he had transferred to it his bits 
 of pasteboard. Each of these, in his own 
 beautiful and perfect writing, was thus in- 
 scribed : — 
 
 Timothy Pounce, 
 
 Writing Clerk, 
 
 Macquarie Street. 
 
 Documents of all hinds 
 drafted and written. Legal 
 vwk a speciality. 
 
 Never thinking, in leaving the case with Josephs, 
 he had also left the cards. Even the devil is 
 not always wide-awake. 
 
 Opening the case an hour or two later; as a 
 preliminary to executing his rival's commission, 
 " Copper-plate " observed the cards, drew one 
 out, looked at it, and — smiled. Gruff in manner 
 and short in temper as Mr. Josephs was, some- 
 where or other in his system there lurked an 
 atom of humour which prompted him, though 
 he was really busy (having a very important job 
 
"MR. POUNCE, WRITER AND FORGER 23 
 
 in hand for Mrs. Chester, of Chesterdale, l to 
 waste his afternoon in engraving a copper-plate 
 in this fashion : — 
 
 Timothy Pounce, 
 
 Writer and Forger, 
 
 Macquarie Street. 
 
 documents oj all kinds 
 forged and uttered. Pardons 
 a speciality. 
 
 When he had printed off twenty cards he 
 mixed them with Pounce's pen- written ones. 
 A superficial glance failed to distinguish the 
 one description from the other — the engraved 
 from the manuscript. A close one, of course, 
 discovered the difference in the wording ; but as 
 to the words which were to be found on both 
 cards, they were identical to a segment of a 
 curve, and to the position of an i-dot. And, 
 mixed just as they were, but with a couple of 
 Mr. Pounce's own scripts on the top, the 
 humorous Josephs filled the card-case with the 
 
 lot. 
 
 * * f * 
 
 1 See The Bulletin, February 2S and March 14, 1891 : 
 "The' Pure Merinoes' Ball" and "Marie Antoinette's 
 Fandango." 
 
24 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 Never since he had boarded with her had 
 Mrs. Bevan — widow of the poor wretch Bevan, 
 who was ruthlessly shot as an absconder by 
 soldiers in February, 1829, while engaged in 
 honourable labour — seen Copper-plate Josephs 
 so genial as he was that evening. 
 
 " You are merry, sir,' : she ventured to say. 
 
 " Yes, Mrs. Bevan, I'm rather in good spirits 
 to-night. A rather funny thing happened to- 
 day." 
 
 " May I not hear it, sir ? " quoth the curious 
 dame. 
 
 "Well, well, not just at present, ma'am. 
 Some day p'r'aps I'll tell you." 
 
 He never did, though. Nor did he tell the 
 whole story when ten days later he was interro- 
 gated in the Supreme Court when Timothy 
 Pounce was on trial for his life for forgery of a 
 Conditional Pardon — a little ceremony which 
 poor Pounce was compelled to undergo as a 
 consequence of having handed to Captain 
 Charles Sturt, 39th Regiment, without looking 
 at it, a card from his new case. 
 
 What man or woman is there who, as he or 
 she hands a servant or a stranger a card from 
 his or her own case, invariably looks at it ? 
 
 Mr. Pounce did not look at the pasteboard, 
 
"MR. POUNCE, WRITER AND FORGER " 25 
 
 which, bowing the while in the grand manner, 
 he handed Captain Sturt, as he was tendering 
 his assistance in copying for the press the Cap- 
 tain's journals of his expedition into the Interior. 
 
 And he had no chance of seeing it again till 
 he was arraigned on the capital charge. 
 
 How he was arraigned, and why, being found 
 guilty, he was not hanged, will form a tale for 
 another time. 
 
THE BURIAL 
 
 AT GOVETT'S LEAP 
 
 "^pURN Out the pris'ners!" 
 
 -L The Sergeant of the Guard revolves 
 on his heel at Lieutenant Achison's order, and 
 passes on the command. 
 
 "No. i — make ready — with elevated muzzle 
 — Fire ! " And the right-hand man of the 
 rank of soldiers points his musket to the mist- 
 veiled heavens, and sends the rousing shot 
 echoing through the gorges and valleys. 
 
 Before the, first echo returns within the 
 Stockade-gate the Civil Side overseers who 
 are standing by the doors of the three cara- 
 vans (as the men of the Old Regime termed 
 them, " boxes " as a great Bishop called them, 
 and " hells-on-wheels," as . they were known 
 among such of the convicts as strove to keep 
 a soul within their bodies) fling open the 
 hinged slabs, and cry, with one voice, — 
 
28 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 " Turn out, men ; turn out ! " 
 
 Needless to say the " men " obey. The 
 System has a weakness for facilitating early 
 rising by the " cat" Even on Sundays its 
 children were not allowed that extra snooze 
 which is the prerogative of free Britons on 
 Sunday morning all the world over. Not at 
 least in the forenoon. They could sleep in 
 the afternoon if they wished — and sleep were 
 possible. That to them was the advantage 
 of Sunday. It is a Sunday this day of our 
 
 story. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 The Blackheath road-gang is, save one (that 
 at Mount Vittoria 1 ), the farthest in location 
 from Sydney of the long line of chain-gangs 
 which are making accessible to a wider civili- 
 sation the virgin plains of the Great West. 
 Civilisation has already established some of 
 its refining agencies beyond the Blue Moun- 
 tains. There is a twofold township at Bathurst 
 — a " bond " side and a " free " (now Kelso), 
 in which are already existent a chapel and a 
 
 1 Records of the late "Twenties" and "Early Thir- 
 ties " always referred to this historic hill as " Vittoria." 
 "Victoria" was a loyal after-thought of Major Mitchell's, 
 in 1832. 
 
THE BURIAL AT GOVETT S LEAV 29 
 
 school, a gallows, and at least two sets of 
 triangles — one for military use and the other 
 for the edification of transports. And even 
 beyond Bathurst, the foremost ripples of the 
 advancing waves of settlement and progress 
 are fretting against the Boundary. For, already, 
 at Molong, there is one military-post and a 
 triangles, and at Wellington Valley there is 
 another military-post and another triangles. 
 But the iron-gangs go no further than the 
 Mount as yet. 
 
 It is not the important " settlement " that it 
 is to prove a few years hence, this Blackheath 
 Stockade, and its greatness is overshadowed 
 by the Stockade at Mount Vittoria, where the 
 mighty work of cutting the Pass is soon to 
 be begun. Here there are only some thirty- 
 eight prisoners, three overseers, nine soldiers, 
 one sergeant, and one subaltern. At the 
 Mount there are already 150 transports, ten 
 overseers, thirty privates, five "non-coms.," a 
 surgeon, a subaltern and a full captain, and 
 in a year there will be 500 convicts and a 
 corresponding increase in the military strength. 
 But Lieutenant Achison redeems the Black- 
 heath Stockade from insignificance.. 
 
 The Lieutenant is an altogether exceptional 
 
30 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 man, for — will you believe it? — he is beloved 
 by the convicts. Through fire and water would 
 they go for him. In the Invalid Depot, at 
 Launceston, Tasmania, which the tender heart 
 of a man of the New Regime has surrounded 
 with exquisitely gardened grounds, so that not 
 a few storm-lost convict souls may glide quietly 
 to haven amid placid beauty, we asked, four 
 or five years ago, of an old man this ques- 
 tion : — 
 
 "Now, tell us, was there never in the old 
 days any officer who treated you as well as 
 Mr. Jones does now?" 
 
 "Never 'un, sor! On'y, sor, Major Achison 
 wot was left'nant at Black'eath w'en I was on 
 th' roads, oh ever'slong sunce ; 'e'd 'a done it, 
 sor, if 'e'd cud ! " 
 
 "What do you mean," we asked — knowing 
 full well what the reply would be — " by 'if he 
 could ' ? " 
 
 '"Cos th' Systum 'udn't let 'im." 
 
 The chasm from the Old to the New Regime, 
 the measureless distance between the Twenties 
 and the Eighties which was yet embraced 
 within the scope of one man's life, had been 
 bridged by the subtle influence of a kindly 
 nature. And the more we learnt of Achison 
 
THE BURIAL AT GOVETT's LEAP 3 1 
 
 as he was on the Mountains in the late 
 Twenties and the Early Thirties, at Hobart 
 Town in the Middle Thirties and Forties, and 
 at Norfolk Island in the late Forties, the more 
 we knew of his goodness, the deeper became 
 our conviction that he was an exception — a 
 phenomenon. He hardened as the years rolled 
 on, but, tested by the gauges of the System, 
 
 he was never hard. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 It was with a shudder of sympathy that 
 the Lieutenant watched the gangers turn out. 
 Could he but have his wish, he would permit 
 them . stop on their planks a little longer, so 
 wretclied was their appearance. " These men 
 who had gone to rest overnight physically 
 exhausted by their week's labour ! Great 
 heavens — who'd have believed they had ever 
 known a sleep ! " This was his thought — which 
 entered his head only to be driven out by 
 another thought, that even if he could send 
 them back to their roosting .cages, would he 
 do so? And he shuddered again as he re- 
 flected that he would not. Why? You shall 
 know part of the reason — the full reason dare 
 not be printed — dare not to be spoken of even 
 — is only to be whispered to grown men when 
 
2,2 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 they discuss the things which were done in 
 
 the brave days of old. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 The overseers went down the accursed rank 
 and straightened them for muster. Thirty-five 
 men drew up in the line. The Senior-Overseer, 
 the mustering official, pulled a long narrow 
 book from his pilot-coat pocket, and, saluting, 
 looked towards the Lieutenant,, who, catching 
 the glance, muttered the monosyllable : — 
 
 " Muster ! " 
 
 The section of twelve men which issued from 
 No. I Caravan was mustered by name and 
 number, and the Senior-Overseer informed the 
 Lieutenant that : " No. i is right, sir." He 
 knew it beforehand, did Senior- Overseer Higgs, 
 for " No. i " was his special charge, and as his 
 men tumbled out from the " hell " into the 
 fresh morning air, he had counted them. That 
 man intended to rise in the Service if he 
 could. 
 
 He mustered No. 2. Which was right also. 
 
 But No. 3 was not right. Eleven men only 
 reply. James Tinsley, 18, colonial convict, from 
 Van Dieman's Land, is missing. Overseer No. 
 3 (Dent) looks flurried. He was not particu- 
 larly ambitious of rising in the System, as he 
 
THE BURIAL "AT GOVETT S LEAP 33 
 
 had fixed his desires on a certain bulky Sydney 
 widow with a small but profitable pot-house, 
 and he was consequently not very alert in 
 details of supervision. Still, to lose a prisoner 
 was dangerous, and as the mustering overseer 
 gazed at him for an explanation, he feels and 
 looks discouraged. 
 
 "I'll swear I locked him up last night!" he 
 pleaded in deprecation of the coming rebuke. 
 
 The Senior-Overseer faced Lieutenant-in- 
 Command and made report. 
 
 "James Tinsley, mustered with No. 3 Van 
 overnight, sir, missing. No. 14 in gang-roll, per 
 Brig Vansittart from Hobart Town." 
 
 The Lieutenant appeared unmoved. But in 
 his heart he was glad. If only Jim had got 
 away safe! — for he had a genuine liking for 
 one-time merry Jim, had the Lieutenant, and 
 wished him well out of the network of mountains 
 and gorges which had tempted so many trans- 
 ports to freedom — and to death. 
 
 " Tinsley, is it ? Overseer Dent, what do you 
 say?" 
 
 " I locked him up, sir. I did, sir-,, all right. 
 He was mustered in yes'night." 
 
 "Interrogate the men." 
 
 The Senior-Overseer turned to the late con- 
 
 D 
 
34 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 tents of No. 3 Van, and proceeded to ask for 
 information as to their knowledge of Tinsley's 
 movements. 
 
 The first man interrogated "'ad'nt seen 'im 
 since yes'day!" This with a grin. 
 
 The second made a like response ; so., did 
 the third, the fourth, and the fifth ; each man 
 grinning as he answered, and exchanging with 
 the others of his section amused glances. 
 There was something behind this similarity of 
 retort, that was evident, and the officials con- 
 cluded it was a common knowledge of an 
 escape. The soldiers of the guard grew in- 
 terested as they heard the answers, and a con- 
 vict — one of the two servants who were not 
 "van'd" overnight — and who was passing to 
 the Lieutenant's hut with a trt.y of coffee, 
 stopped to learn what was in the wind. 
 
 It was the sixth man — Jusati — who let out 
 the little joke. With a laugh as hearty as his 
 wasted frame could emit, looking towards Lieu- 
 tenant Achison, he said : — 
 
 " Why, he's in the van now, is Mary Jane ! " 
 
 A cackling chorus ran up and down the 
 line ; one or two of the soldiers joined boldly 
 in the merriment ; the convict with the coffee 
 spilt the liquid as he shared in the laughter ; 
 
THE BURIAL AT GOVETT S LEAP 35. 
 
 even the Lieutenant could scarcely forbear to 
 smile. It wasn't half a bad joke, as joking 
 went in convict settlements, thus to take in 
 the Authorities — Senior-Overseer Higgs was an 
 Authority by virtue of Act of Council and 
 Regulation — though it was only for three or 
 four minutes. 
 
 Overseer Dent, hearing the words, and not 
 heeding the laughter, sprang impulsively to- 
 wards the van. The iron-clamped doors of 
 " No. 3 " were still apart, and the whole of the 
 people on parade saw his actions, as he peered 
 into the van and then went into it. 
 
 They saw him, too, as he emerged, after the 
 sound of a heavy thump on the deck of the 
 vehicle had revealed the fact that he had 
 pulled down — something — from a shelf to the 
 floor. 
 
 When he emerged he dragged with him the 
 half-dead carcase of James Tinsley. This was 
 the joke of the contents of Van No. 3. They 
 knew the boy had been on a top-plank all 
 
 the time. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 The .Senior-Overseer and his junior Dent 
 spoke together in their indignation at the 
 joke. 
 
36 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 " Yes, he's here, Mr. Higgs, and Mr. Achison, 
 sir ! He's shirking, sir ! " This from Dent. 
 
 " What did you pris'ners mean by stating 
 you hadn't seen him since yesterday ? " This 
 was Higgs* demand. 
 
 The first man of No. 3's section answered 
 that he had spoken the truth. He hadn't 
 seen " Mary Jane " since lock-up overnight. 
 He himself was a " bottom-planker," and 
 " Mary Jane " was top, and he was first out 
 that morning. The second man and the third 
 were also bottom-plankers, and they'd take 
 their davys they'd not seen Jim since over- 
 night. Much the same answer came from 
 the others who had before spoken. "The 
 hell was dark," said one, "an' he c'u'dn't see 
 in th' dark!" And the other "'ad felt Jim 
 has 'e was a-gettin' hup, but 'ad never seed 
 the y'ung 'un." 
 
 Literally, these answers were true. Once the 
 doors of the vans were banged to, no light could 
 enter into the conveyance, save that which 
 penetrated the double row of holes — one an 
 inch from the decking, the other two inches 
 from the roof, which furnished ventilation, and 
 these were practically closed by the bodies of 
 the convicts who were accommodated on the 
 
THE BURIAL AT GOVETT S LEAP 37 
 
 top and bottom planks respectively. In the 
 doors were fixed gratings, but an iron lid al- 
 ways dropped over these narrow interstices, 
 unless it was lifted noiselessly by a vigilant 
 overseer — its pivot was kept well oiled to that 
 end — for the purpose of detecting the crime of 
 conversation. It was a grievous crime for con- 
 versation to take place between sun-down and 
 sun-up, between occupants of the caravans ; 
 very grievous, to be put down with a strong 
 foot. 
 
 Literally, these answers were correct. Tech- 
 nically, they were false, and therefore insubor- 
 dinate. To be insubordinate was to commit 
 the unpardonable sin. 
 
 With an angry flush, adding an unnecessary 
 tinge of ruddiness to his fresh features, Senior- 
 Overseer Higgs once more faced the Lieutenant- 
 in-Command. 
 
 "I report these men, sir, for prevarication 
 They attempted to deceive me, sir, on specific 
 inquiry. Regulation 43, sir ! " 
 
 There was a malice in Higgs' tones which 
 every one noticed — every one, that is, except 
 poor Tinsley, who was beyond noticing any- 
 thing. The prisoners ceased to indulge in their 
 Taughter (the very phantom of wholesome mer- 
 
38 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 riment), and the Lieutenant's face fell into 
 shadow. The matter had grown serious once 
 a formal complaint was lodged. No matter 
 what the commander thought in such a case, he 
 had no option but to administer the Regula- 
 tions, which distinctly commanded him to in- 
 vestigate every charge of insubordination or 
 deceit preferred against a prisoner or prisoners 
 when formally made. Next to mutiny, there 
 was nothing the Regime detested so strongly as 
 a lie. The Regime was moral. Achison had 
 blessed in many an instance where the System 
 banned, but he could only do so with safety 
 when he could take advantage of some loop- 
 hole in the Regulations. Here, on this Sunday 
 morning, trifling though the offence was in his 
 eyes, the Regulations made it serious. And 
 there was no loophole, no shadow of a crack, 
 in Regulation No. 43. So 
 
 " Do you press the charge, Mr. Higgs ? " he 
 inquired, after a moment's reflection. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; I do press it ! " 
 
 Higgs being an aspirant for increased place 
 and emoluments, considered the System was 
 getting under weigh to the devil if the Law and 
 the ^Regulations were not enforced with the 
 utmost rigour, and he had a dozen times al- 
 
THE BURIAL AT GOVETT's LEAP 39 
 
 ready ventured to insinuate to the higher 
 powers that the Lieutenant-in-Command was 
 not sufficiently System- atic. Now that his 
 vanity, that excessively sensitive vanity of the 
 low-class official, had been hurt by the prisoners' 
 paltry joke, he was going to heal the smart on 
 homoeopathic principles if he could. Like to 
 like : the prisoners' smarting should cure his 
 own. He pressed the charge. 
 
 " Bring them up after breakfast, then, Over- 
 seer. Now complete the muster, and report 
 what is the matter with Tinsley." 
 
 " No. 14, Tinsley, James — why don't you 
 answer, pris'ner ? " 
 
 James Tinsley, being in the drowsy stupor 
 which is to precede his last sleep, fails to an- 
 swer. A pause of a full minute is broken by 
 the Lieutenant : — 
 
 " Don't you see he's ill, Mr. Higgs ? Report, 
 sir, at once." 
 
 " Please, sir, ' Mary Jane ' — I mean Tinsley, 
 sir — was a-taken very bad in th' night, sir. He's 
 croakin', sir." The eleventh man of No. 3 Van 
 so speaks. 
 
 " Why didn't one of you call out ? " demanded 
 the Lieutenant, as he strode towards the sick 
 boy. 
 
40 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 The man saluted, as he replied with a grim 
 reminder, " We rec'lected Smith, sir — Smith of 
 the Emu Plains roaders, sir ! " (Smith of the 
 Lapstone Hill iron-gang had called out in 
 agony one night for water, and had been given 
 a bayonet by the sentry — as per Regulation. 
 They buried Smith, and possibly — there is no 
 record — reprimanded the sentry, It is also 
 possible they promoted him.) 
 
 " Then why not report when you came out ? " 
 
 Again the man saluted, again he replied, 
 "We hadn't been a-mustered, sir — mustn't 
 speak till mustered ! " 
 
 " Well ! " thought Mr. Higgs, with indigna- 
 tion, "would the Gov'ment believe that a 
 pris'ner had to teach an officer his business ! " 
 He'd remember that, he would, and would let 
 it be known in the proper quarter some day, 
 
 that he would. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 Lieutenant Achison saw the lad was dying. 
 The hue of the cadaver was gradually stealing 
 over the worn features, and as he gazed the 
 human within him rose, and swept with a tide 
 of pity over the instincts of the Official. 
 
 " Here, one of you, off to my quarters, and 
 bring me a flask standing on my shelf." 
 
THE BURIAL AT GOVETT S LEAP 4 1 
 
 Of course the command was to the prisoners. 
 No soldier could move ; no free officer, would 
 think of moving. 
 
 Jusan started for the hut with such celerity as 
 his irons would allow. While waiting for the 
 spirit the Lieutenant stooped and raised Tins- 
 ley's head. Then he recalled himself to his 
 duty, and speaking to the Senior-Overseer, or- 
 dered the men to breakfast. 
 
 There was a clanking of irons as the men 
 shuffled half about and stepped slowly to the 
 overhanging shed where the buckets of "smig- 
 gins " ' were waiting to satiate their appetites. 
 There, grouped in messes of six, they dipped 
 their pannikins into the stuff, while the Senior- 
 Overseer read grace, and watched that others 
 did not steal the portions due to Jusan and 
 Tinsley. 
 
 Jusan did not return promptly. He could 
 have gone to the hut and return to the spot in 
 front of the caravans in a couple of minutes. 
 The Lieutenant-in-Command grew impatient — 
 the lad was dying — a nip of the whisky might, 
 
 1 An old Newgate term, which was frequently used- by 
 road-gangers to describe their ration of rice or maize 
 when it was mixed with the water in which their meat- 
 ration had been boiled. 
 
42 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 at least, ease his pain, if it failed to rouse him 
 from his deathly apathy — why did the man not 
 come? 
 
 " Dent, see what's up with that pris'ner. Or, 
 stay — hold Tinsley's head." 
 
 Higgs, from beneath the shed, was momenta- 
 rily amazed to see his junior relieve the Lieu- 
 tenant, and the latter pass rapidly to the hut. 
 The System was, indeed, due for the devil when 
 all this fuss was being kicked up over a sick 
 boy-convict, who was, very likely, not sick at 
 all — only "shamming Abram." 
 
 He was not amazed, however, at the next de- 
 velopment of affairs. Wise after the event, he 
 remarked to himself that was " just what might 
 have been expected." For a commotion in the 
 neighbourhood of officers' quarters drew his 
 eyes in that direction. 
 
 Holding Jusan by the collar with his left 
 hand, Lieutenant Achison angrily pushed the 
 transport through the doorway with the other. 
 Jusan still held the flask in his hand. It was 
 empty. 
 
 " Here, guard — overseer — double-iron this 
 man. And, Mr. Higgs, produce him for punish- 
 ment after breakfast." 
 
 The whole Stockade understood. Jusan had 
 
THE BURIAL AT GOVETT's LEAP 43 
 
 drunk the Lieutenant's spirits. That was why- 
 he was so prompt in obeying the Officer's in- 
 struction. 
 
 "Achison might ha' known it!" said Higgs 
 to Dent later. " Put liquor into a pris'ner's 
 grasp ! — why, in Major Lockyer's time he'd ha' 
 been cashiered for the same. I don't blame 
 Jusan ! " 
 
 * * * * 
 
 And Tinsley, what of him ? He was getting 
 away safely over the gorges and valleys. 
 
 It is doubtful whether the spirit would have 
 done more than impart a spasmodic vitality to 
 the boy's debilitated constitution, or whether it 
 would have kept him an hour longer from his 
 grave in the head of the Grose valley. The 
 Lieutenant, in after days, used to solace himself 
 with that thought. Within a few moments of 
 the officer's return to the lad's side, he watched 
 the last tremor shake the recumbent form, and 
 knew that over the Valley of the Shadow, 
 gloomier than any that hemmed in the site of 
 the Stockade with their fathomless sombreness, 
 the convict's soul was speeding to the sphere of 
 a very different Regime. 
 
 It was not the first convict-death by many 
 that Achison had witnessed, but none had 
 
44 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 touched him so deeply, for in no other case had 
 he witnessed the gradual decay of all that was 
 physically and morally worth preserving in a 
 convict's nature. 
 
 He had stood by while, on Pulpit Hill, they 
 had stopped a caravan, and had taken from a 
 shelf a canvas-clad transport who craved to die 
 in the sunlight. He had sighed over the man 
 who had invoked his mercy to convey a message 
 
 to his father. "The Rev. , MrA., 
 
 Rector of ; I am his son ! " 
 
 He had stood by when another " gentleman " 
 had taken his leave of life in this very Stockade 
 — a gentleman who " threw back " to the gentle- 
 hood which he had bartered for the husks of 
 the penal styes, in the last moments which the 
 System granted him, and who had entreated the 
 Lieutenant to transmit a tender, last letter to a 
 lonely manor-house in sleepy Dorset. " It'll be 
 my last lie to my wife ! " the Condemned had 
 said. " I've told her many ; and none to save 
 her pain — only this. Let her think, Lieutenant, 
 I died — I died — not as I die ! " 
 
 Those deaths had touched him somewhat, 
 because they were men of his class. This one 
 of Convict James Tinsley, alias Luffy Ned, alias 
 " Mary Jane," touched him more deeply still. 
 
THE BURIAL AT GOVETT S LEAP 45 
 
 He had liked the boy for his own sake since 
 he had been mustered into the gang at Penrith. 
 Then the lad was round-faced, merry, laughter- 
 loving. Coming under sentence from Hobart 
 Town, for horse-stealing — a boyish freak— he 
 was too young to realize all the infamies of the 
 Regime and the System. Knowing what he 
 (Achison) knew of the caravans in which it was 
 customary to lodge the members of the road- 
 gangs, he shuddered that day of the first muster 
 at the prospect before the bright boy once he 
 was "van'd." Had he had power, he would 
 have prevented the lad going into the itinera- 
 ting "hell." He had no power, although he 
 was in command of the gang. The Regulations 
 were peremptory on the point of showing 
 favouritism to a transport. A harder man 
 would have been less conscientious in his obedi- 
 ence to the Rules. Achison obeyed them — and 
 James Tinsley, aged 17, went into the caravan 
 on that first night at Emu Plains with only one 
 alias. When he came out the next morning 
 with an ineffaceable terror drawing out the 
 plumpness from his checks, he owned a second 
 — " Mary Jane." 
 
 From that hour the lad deteriorated. Achi- 
 son, when he could, saved him from awful com- 
 
46 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 paniotlship in the day ; from that of the night 
 there was no saving him — the Regulations were 
 peremptory. He was too young for a billet, 
 even if the Regulations had permitted the Lieu- 
 tenant to appoint so recent a convict when 
 there were nominal " good-conduct " men of 
 longer alliance with the Regime hungry for such. 
 But the Regulations, through which an indu- 
 rated, unscrupulous officer could have driven 
 a chain-gang and a dozen caravans, were to 
 Achison, holding an exaggerated sense of his 
 duty, binding and ineradicable. 
 
 All that he could do for the lad was, when, 
 on Sundays, he made short trips of exploration 
 into the valleys and gorges of the wondrous 
 mountain region, to take him in his company 
 to carry a rope and lunch-bag. In these trips 
 he had, in such talk as could pass between a 
 military officer and a convict boy, urged Jimmy 
 to " keep off the cross." Consistently with his 
 allegiance to the Establishment he could not 
 denounce the Regulations to the lad ; but by 
 precept and by example he strove to revive in 
 Tinsley's heart those qualities of hopefulness 
 and self-respect which, once crushed beyond re- 
 covery, the convict became fit for the Inferno. 
 Nine months at Pulpit Hill and the Stockade 
 
THE BURIAL AT GOVETTSLEAP 47 
 
 had instilled a precocious bravado into Jimmy ; 
 butj Sunday after Sunday, as the Lieutenant 
 took him out in the ranges, Achison gained 
 courage as he thought he discerned a softening 
 of the soul so early encrusted with the vices of 
 the System. And now — and now — the boy was 
 
 dead ! 
 
 * * * *- 
 
 As he stood over the stiffening corpse, he 
 recalled a conversation which had taken place 
 between himself and the boy as they stood, 
 eight or nine Sundays back, on the brink of the 
 precipice which was to be known by-and-by as 
 Govett's Leap. 
 
 "Don't, sir— don't, Mr. Achison!" Tinsley 
 had cried. "Don't go so close — ye may get 
 giddy, sir." Achison had swung himself out on 
 a rocky ledge to view to more advantage the 
 fall (the " Leap " proper), with which the wind 
 was sporting, now dashing it in mist against the 
 rock, and now puffing it magically into filmy 
 lace, and the youth, noting the precariousness 
 of the officer's position, could not refrain from 
 an alarmed shout. 
 
 " Tush^ lad, tush ! I'm safe enough ! I think 
 I'll try to reach that talus. The view from there 
 should, be very fine." 
 
48- TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 " The what, sir ? " 
 
 " That jutting point of rock below. Sling the 
 rope, Jim — I'll get you to lower me down part 
 of the way. Take it round that tree there." 
 
 " Oh, Lieutenant, don't go. I ain't strong, 
 you know " 
 
 " The rope'U help me down forty feet or so, 
 and there seems to be a ledge there, and hauled 
 round the tree it'll be safe enough." 
 
 " Leave it to next week, sir — please do ! 
 You can have 'nother man here then." 
 
 " What are you afraid of, Tinsley ? For 
 me ? " 
 
 "For you, sir — an J myself, sir, too. S'pose 
 I let you drop, they'd say I'd — I'd murdered 
 you!" 
 
 The youth spoke with an earnestness that 
 was not affected, and Achison, knowing well 
 that the descent of the precipitous wall was 
 really a dangerous task, consented to postpone 
 his attempt till more help was at hand. 
 
 "All right, I won't go down to-day. But 
 suppose I did drop, Jim ; one couldn't die in 
 a grander place, could he ? " 
 
 The boy didn't speak, but gazed long over 
 the awe-inspiring ravine, with its floor of hills 
 and forests, its formless void, its imprisoned 
 
THE BURIAL AT GOVETT S LEAP 49 
 
 immensity. Then something of the mysterious 
 influence of the scene — one of those terror- 
 tipped shafts forged in the arsenal of awe-in- 
 spiring Nature which penetrate to the brain of 
 the unreasoning and the rude — forced him into 
 dumb tears. 
 
 " Why, Tinsley, why, lad, what's this ? Come, 
 come, no whimpering — be a man ! " 
 
 The convict-boy threw himself on a slab of 
 rock. 
 
 " I can't help it, sir ! It makes me think — I 
 — shall — never see — mother — again." 
 
 The officer put out his hand and touched the 
 boy's shoulder ; other reply he could not find. 
 Nor did he speak again till the lad had moaned 
 another confidence into his ear. 
 
 He was looking with his damp eyes to the 
 sky, which seemed to have borrowed a deeper 
 tint of blue from the violets and purples which 
 nestled between the ranges. 
 
 " If I die, Lieutenant, sir, in the roader, don't 
 bury me ! Throw me over here or somewhere 
 like this." 
 
 " Die ! — what's put that in your head, Jim ? " 
 
 The officer tried to laugh. 
 
 " Will ye promise, sir ? Do, sir ! — in a grave, 
 sir — oh, it'll be too much like my plank in the 
 
 E 
 
50 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 van. The old men say the grave means free- 
 dom, sir. When I'm free I want to forget the 
 hell-on-wheels— I want to forget it when I'm 
 dead ! " 
 
 " Hold your tongue, Jim ; you don't know 
 what you're saying ! " 
 
 " I beg pardon, sir, I do ! If I'm cooped up 
 when I'm — free — I'll think I'm in the van again, 
 sir. But to lie at the bottom of the gully, sir — 
 to draw a breath an' to know I'm not robbin' no 
 one else — to look up an' know heaven's above, 
 an' not the roof of a hell-on-wheels — oh, that'll 
 be grand ! Promise, sir, will you ? You've 
 been so good to me — oh, promise ! " 
 
 Blaming himself for his foolishness in acced- 
 ing to the boy's silly fancy, Achison had con- 
 sented. 
 
 * * * «• 
 
 That had been eight, nine Sundays ago. 
 
 And now, on this Sunday, Achison recol- 
 lected. 
 
 And when, after breakfast and prayers, and 
 that other devotional rite, the reading of the 
 Regulations, and that further sacred ceremony, 
 the flogging for theft of Convict Jusan, Senior- 
 Overseer Higgs presented the five men who had 
 enjoyed their little joke at his expense for 
 
THE BURIAL AT GOVETT's LEAP 5 1 
 
 inquiry and punishment ; and when the Lieu- 
 tenant-in-Command had found them guilty — 
 what other could he do, the evidence and the 
 Regulations being respected ? — he ordered the 
 five a most unusual punishment. 
 
 Which was to carry, sewn in a blanket, the 
 dead body of James Tinsley, No. 14 (Colonial- 
 . convict), per Vansittart, to the head of the 
 gorge. 
 
 It was a punishment the severity of which 
 was not in accordance with Mr. Higgs' notions 
 — nor, possibly, with the Lieutenant's own, for 
 had the offenders spoken earlier, the boy's life 
 might have been saved. Still, it was not a 
 light task to bear the corpse through two miles 
 of dense scrub, and to bear it reverently. For 
 he took care they should not hustle it. Though 
 the Regime had killed Tinsley, it should show 
 him some respect at the last. 
 
 They lowered it down by a hundred feet of 
 rope to a spot midway, so it seemed from 
 above, to the bed of the gorge. On a rocky 
 fragment it rested. Achison read a psalm over 
 it. 
 
 Three years afterwards he (now Captain) 
 stood, with Assistant-Surveyor W. R. Govett, 
 by the foot of the Fall, and as he told in part 
 
52 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 the story we now narrate, he looked up — up 
 hundreds of feet — and saw a bunchy protuber- 
 ance between a chrome-coloured rock and the 
 blue heavens. 
 
 "That's the spot ! " he pointed as he spoke ; 
 " see, I take it the ferns have wound their fronds 
 round it. Nature can be kindlier than " 
 
 " The System ? Yes ! " 
 
 ' Achison established a precedent that Sunday, 
 which certain old members of the Blackheath 
 Stockade remembered when they desired to 
 bury Senior-Overseer Higgs — alive. 
 
BOB WARPHY'S 
 KINDLY DEED 
 
 ' I A HE low, black hull of the Meander, prison- 
 -■- hulk, Woolwich, was, on a September 
 evening in 183 — , bustling with life and ringing 
 with sound. She was an inert and silent mass 
 an hour ago ; now she was vivid with motion 
 and noise. For within the hour she had received 
 into her 'tween decks and the barred recesses of 
 her hold 1 20 ironed convicts. From the metro- 
 polis about 80 had come, and by a coincidence 
 there had arrived at the same moment a couple 
 of consignments of like sin and misery from the 
 rural districts. The summer Assizes and the 
 Old Bailey Sessions were working harmoniously 
 together in the good work of freeing Merrie 
 England from the rabbit-poachers, the turnip- 
 stealers, the pocket-handkerchief-" nippers," and 
 similar hardened ruffians ; and between them 
 those justly lauded Institutions of British Law 
 had succeeded in cjfgeing, at the rate of two a 
 
54 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 minute, six-score of the said ruffians on the 
 Meander hulk as a preliminary to despatching 
 them to Port Jackson. 
 
 One of the coasting contingent is a short, 
 sickly-looking fellow of 35 or 36 years of age. 
 There is a week's growth of brownish hairiness 
 on his pallid cheeks and chin ; his linen, or the 
 fragment of it visible, is encrusted with dirt, and 
 in that respect resembles his hands, which are 
 manacled — one to a chain, and the other to a 
 brother-convict's handcuff. Still, unkempt and 
 unshaved as he is, he looks what in the cant of 
 the Hulk Reports is termed " Superior." And 
 the man who could look " superior " after a 
 seven-days' tramp on the chain from an assize- 
 town to the shipment port would easily pass for 
 a gentleman when attired in clean clothes of a 
 respectable cut, and freed from disgraceful sur- 
 roundings. Seven days in a transport-gang 
 would have made the First Gentleman in Europe 
 look like a costermongering cad, and there is 
 some excuse, therefore, for the failure of Mrs. 
 John Griffiths to identify her gentlemanly-look- 
 ing husband with the sickly and disreputable 
 convict to whom reference has been made. 
 
 It is between-decks. Hustled up the gang- 
 way, hustled down the hatchway, the chained 
 
BOB WARPHYS KINDLY DEED 55 
 
 and manacled group, eighteen or nineteen strong, 
 to which the sickly creature is literally attached, 
 has flung itself down in a tired, reckless, and 
 despairing heap to wait its turn at the anvil- 
 block where the " land "-irons are to be unriveted 
 and ship-irons put on. And the woman Griffiths, 
 pretty and well-formed, with the wholesome 
 aspect of the countryside lingering about her, 
 though the strain of a great anguish is burden- 
 ing her as palpably as does the child she carries 
 in her arms, passes by not perceiving that her 
 husband is among the huddled wretches. 
 
 " I don't — see — him ! " she gasped, with a 
 toneless hoarseness, to the constable who was 
 guiding her in the semi-darkness. 
 
 The constable had been aggravated by the 
 sudden inrush of prisoners. The old black hulk 
 had been empty of an infamous cargo this month 
 past, and here all at once, just the day, too, that 
 he had arranged to enjoy a long-shore outing, 
 she had filled up! No wonder he was irascible 
 and out of temper. British Law expected him 
 to be vigilant and punctual for the sum of one 
 pound three and fourpence weekly stipend, but 
 there was no condition in the bond as to humane- 
 ness or kindliness of temper. He snorted in 
 reply : " Then, you jade, W the devil can I see 
 
56 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 'im if you can't? An' 'ow can I waste my time 
 'ere on ye a-lookin' for 'im unless you pay 
 me ? " 
 
 "I haven't anything, sir — at least, sir, not 
 much " 
 
 " You've got 'nuft to buy your dicky-man 
 sum'at, I know, an' you'll have to fin' me sum' at, 
 too, or off you go ! I ain't no time to waste a- 
 lookin' for hussies' men ! " 
 
 Trembling, the girl changed the arm on which 
 the child, a bonnie boy of two years, slumbered, 
 and tremblingly drew from her pocket a netted 
 purse. She was extracting one of the paltry 
 store of seven-shilling pieces which it contained 
 when there was a sudden movement among 
 some of the London portion of the newly-arrived 
 cargo, and, in a moment, the purse had been 
 snatched from her hand. The thief flung him- 
 self back into his gang — and a jeer of derision 
 signalled that the act had been perceived by 
 others and was applauded. 
 
 " My purse, my purse ! " shrieked the woman. 
 The cry was unavailing ; the constable, addition- 
 ally angered by the loss of the anticipated bribe, 
 knew it was useless searching for the offender 
 for the stolen article, and pushed the woman 
 insolently towards the hatchway. " 'Ere, get 
 
BOB WARPHY S' KINDLY DEED 5 7 
 
 'way with you. Sarves you right losin' your 
 mopuses, a-takin' up my time to no purpose, 
 an' me so much to do." 
 
 The woman turned and prayed to the quarter 
 whence the thief had emerged. " Oh, sir, who 
 took my purse, please give it me ! I've nothing 
 to get home with, or to get food for my child ! " 
 
 The appeal was in vain. Still, it gained the 
 object with which she had visited the hulk. 
 Her voice reached the ears of her husband, over 
 the infernal noises of the place. He was lying 
 on the deck apathetic, craving for the death 
 which would not come, and endeavouring to 
 drown in sleep the consciousness and the remorse 
 which crushed him with a weight more terrible 
 than that of his irons. 
 
 " Mary ! " he cried. " Mary ! Is that you ? " 
 He pulled himself up by the chain and a staple 
 in the bulkhead. "Oh, Mary, this is good of 
 you — and what is the matter, dear ? " He 
 dragged his share of the chain and the body of 
 his chain-mate with him, towards where she was 
 standing in the half-light of the hatchway. And 
 at his words, the girl, forgetful of her money 
 loss, 1 and mindful only that her husband was 
 there, whom she had never thought to see again, 
 turned to that dear soul and embraced him. 
 
58 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 What to her was it that a hundred curious 
 glances were resting upon them — that she could 
 not be clasped in his arms because they were 
 iron-gripped — that every tender word that 
 welled from her clinging lips was overheard by 
 a score of contemptuous ears ? 
 
 She turned and passed her disengaged arm 
 round his neck. " My John ! I've found you 
 at last ! " And she fondled him, pressing the 
 little one to his face, murmuring the while soft 
 love-words. But — 
 
 "'Ere— time's up! Come along now ! " The 
 constable so interfered. 
 
 " Oh, sir, leave me just a few minutes longer!" 
 
 " None of that, now ! I can't leave you — 
 there's others 'sides you want to see their aneas 
 [men], an' I ain't no time, unless you pay me." 
 
 The mention of payment recalled to her the 
 loss of her purse. She had nothing beside its 
 contents, and now they were gone ! Sixty miles 
 from home, and not a penny to reach home 
 with. God ! 
 
 But the Lord Commissioners who, at this 
 juncture, had something or other to do with the 
 hulks (what, in the plenitude of their wisdom, 
 was never precisely defined), had made a pro- 
 vision for exigencies of the kind, and if she 
 
BOB WARPHYS KINDLY DEED 59 
 
 couldn't find the wherewithal to remunerate 
 the Lord Commissioners' representative, the 
 constable, to wit, for his loss of time in guarding 
 her — " Cant leave you alone here, missus ; you're 
 too purty ! " said the leering fellow — well, she 
 would have to go forthwith. And, with scarcely 
 a word of her love spoken, and not a syllable 
 uttered of the trust and faith and hope for the 
 future which she had designed to bestow upon 
 her unhappy husband, she was being torn away, 
 half-fainting, from his side, when the constable 
 remembered her wedding-ring. 
 
 " You've a fawney, ain't you ? " inquired the 
 constable. 
 
 " A what, sir ? " 
 
 " A fawney — a wedding-ring ? Ain't you a 
 honest 'ooman ? " 
 
 Too sore for indignation, the woman thrust 
 forth her left hand. The thin band of gold 
 rested upon the proper finger. 
 
 " Oh, I sees, you're right, missus ! Well, jest 
 you give me that, an' I'll let you stay a 'ole 
 hour with your ol' man. 'Tis against rules, you 
 know, but I don't mind jest onst, as you won't 
 see 'im for a long time agen, unless you go out 
 to Botany Bay yourself." 
 
 The constable's chuckle was contagious. 
 
60 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 Several of the neighbouring prisoners laughed 
 — laughed the more heartily as they saw the 
 officer, the trusted Representative of My Lord 
 Commissioners, attempt to pull the wedding- 
 ring from the woman's finger. 
 
 She drew back her hand, affrighted. "Not 
 that !" she said; "here, my shawl! Anything 
 but that!" 
 
 "That, or you go on shore this minit! 'Ow 
 d'you think I'm a-goin' to waste my time on you 
 
 without sum'at? Come, no nonsense, or 
 
 else " 
 
 John Griffiths (real name), convict, under 
 fourteen years' sentence for embezzlement, tried 
 under the style of " John Jasker," was as morally 
 weak as he was physically. Still, there was one 
 virtue in which he was not deficient, and that 
 was the love of his wife. He forgot himself in 
 the moment which succeeded the hulk-warder's 
 words. Linked to the chain on one side, and 
 coupled to his twin-rogue on the other, with 
 irons on his Ic^s, he had but one weapon of 
 offence — his head. lie propelled it forward, 
 and caught the constable sharply under the chin, 
 thereby achieving two things — the downfall of 
 the officer, and a very bad "hulk report" for 
 himself. 
 
BOB WARPHY'S KINDLY DEED 6 1 
 
 And the last look that John Jasker, otherwise 
 Griffiths, had of his young wife and child, before 
 he left for the New Britannia of a Southern 
 World, was as she was hauled rudely up the 
 temporary ladder to the upper deck. 
 
 She tarried as the constable pulled her to the 
 foot of the hatch, and cast a look of tearful 
 affection to where her husband had stood. It 
 flashed through the inner gloom to the bulk- 
 head like a lightning streak into the core of 
 thunderous mountain gorges. Her husband saw 
 her action and heard her words, though she 
 could not see him. 
 
 " I'll never let it go, John, never ! — not if I'm 
 starving ! When I can't wear it, John, I'll not 
 be — be an honest woman ! " As she spoke, she 
 flung out her left hand so that her wedding- 
 ring was visible. 
 
 In a month's time John Jasker was on board 
 the Ocean transport-ship, and sailing away from 
 Woolwich to Botany Bay. With him went that 
 hulk-report : " A dangerous character." 
 
 TheJiulk-report was as simple a device as was 
 ever invented for driving a man, and a woman 
 too, completely and entirely to the devil. If in 
 
62 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 one of the hulks controlled by My Lords the 
 Commissioners, " a system of extortion and 
 petty tyranny went on by which the hulk- 
 constables oppressed the convicts waiting 
 transport," My Lords the Commissioners were 
 happy to inform the Majesty of Parliament "that 
 their Lordships were in ignorance of the facts." 
 Which was not at all a surprising thing, if their 
 Lordships would only have understood so. It 
 would, under the circumstances, have been 
 rather surprising if they had known anything 
 of the matter. Notwithstanding, a system of 
 extortion and petty tyranny did exist, one con- 
 sequence being that a man or a woman who 
 resented the latter and had not the means to 
 satisfy the former generally earned a vile 
 " report." In the magnanimity of the Law, no 
 record of a transport's crime and conviction was 
 " sent out " with him. That was to give him a 
 chance in the new world. But what never failed 
 to go with him, once he passed outwards over 
 the hulk gangway, was a "report." And woe 
 betide him if when a tenant of a hulk-plank he 
 had shown an independence of spirit or a com- 
 plete emptiness of purse ! 
 
 " Constable," asked the Hulks Superintendent 
 as he was compiling reports a day or two before 
 
BOB WARPHY'S KINDLY DEED 63 
 
 the Ocean dropped alongside to take in her 
 cargo. "John Jasker, No. 7 mess?" 
 
 " A werry bad 'un, your Honour — werry vi'lent 
 an' insubordinet, sir. Saluted me onct, your 
 Honour '11 remember — dark cell seven days." 
 
 " Yes, I remember. That'll do. Next!" And 
 while the constable was recalling the " next's " 
 conduct, the Hulks Superintendent penned 
 three words against John Jasker's name: "A 
 dangerous character." 
 
 Such was the routine for which My Lords 
 were responsible, but of which they were in 
 refreshing ignorance. 
 
 It clung to Jasker always, did that report. It 
 won him classification during the daily exercise 
 hour with a crew of villains which included at 
 least two murderers and a resurrectionist. It 
 procured for him the privilege of specially 
 weighted irons, and the scarcely more desirable 
 enjoyment of peculiar exhortations from the 
 religiously disposed Surgeon- Superintendent. 
 And it docked his water allowance by a quantity 
 equal to one pint per week. 
 
 It clung to him on arrival at Port Jackson. 
 He was sullen and desperate when the clerks 
 
64 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 from the Principal Superintendent's Office came 
 down to check off the manifest and to ascertain 
 the particulars of the convicts. The Surgeon- 
 Superintendent could supply them with no 
 further details respecting each man than were 
 endorsed in his hulk-report, except such addi- 
 tional character as the transport had gained for 
 good or ill during the voyage. In Jasker's case 
 this latter record was simply : " Bad." 
 
 With a " dangerous " hulk-report, and a 
 " bad " ship-report, and a lowering sullenness of 
 the features when the clerks addressed him, it 
 was only to be expected that these gentlemen 
 were prejudiced against him, and that on their 
 report he was not put down for assignment, but 
 
 was merely ordered into the gaol-gang. 
 * * * * 
 
 He was still in the gaol-gang when, four 
 years later, his wife with her boy, now a sturdy 
 youngster of nearly seven, arrived in Old 
 Sydney. By infinite pains and by surpassing 
 economies, the woman, moved by that intensity 
 of unselfish devotion which inspires so many 
 of her sex to heroic exertions for what in the 
 world's sight is a trivial object, had earned and 
 saved money enough to procure her and her 
 child's passage to Australia. She had expected 
 
BOB WARPHYS KINDLY DEED 6$ 
 
 to have found her husband free. In the one 
 letter which he had sent home, he had told her 
 he was in a fair way to obtain his liberty as a 
 ticket-of-leave, and was not very uncomfortable. 
 His statement was a lie, but its motive was to 
 ease her anxiety on his account, and hence we 
 may not condemn it. But when she arrived 
 and found that he was still in the gaol-gang, 
 condemned thereto by sentence after sentence 
 for insubordination and insolence, as sundry 
 scowlings and shruggings of shoulders were so 
 called, it was a shock to her. All the greater, 
 of course, that she had looked to receive a free 
 or partially free man's welcome. Permitted to 
 speak to him once, he informed her that unless 
 by influence of a more or less honourable kind 
 she could obtain a pardon for him, he would 
 have to serve another five years for his " ticket." 
 That had been the effect of his later sentences — 
 and of the hulk-report. 
 
 It was his hulk-report always. " What is the 
 pris'ner's police-report?" a magistrate would 
 ask as Jasker was presented before him. " Bad, 
 y'r worship ! " the prosecuting officer would 
 reply. And then would he begin the repetition 
 of Jasker's offences from his endorsed parch- 
 ment, with the hulk-report always heading the 
 
 F 
 
66 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 list. A " good " hulk-report counted for little 
 with any magistrate ; a bad one for much, 
 whether or .not it was confirmed by sub- 
 sequent conduct. And Jasker's later conduct 
 had been marked by repeated acts of insolence 
 and so forth. A " bad hulk "stamped the whole 
 after-prison career of nine out of ten convicts 
 who were unfortunate enough to earn it. In 
 Jasker's case it had prevented his assignment 
 and postponed the issue of his ticket. The 
 greed and malice of an illiterate hulk-constable 
 had ruined the transport's nature. It would 
 have been a tragic if it had not been so 
 commonplace an incident of the System. 
 
 With her. husband powerless to aid her, with 
 a growing boy hungry for food, what was Mrs. 
 Jasker or Griffiths to do ? Free from the tie of 
 the lad, she could have earned a living for her- 
 self, but the necessity of caring for the boy 
 handicapped her. Free seamstress' work, with 
 so many convict women available, was naturally 
 ill-paid ; and many a week, after the cost of her 
 material and the rent of her poor room were 
 defrayed from her earnings, the remainder 
 barely sufficed to find food for the boyPtet 
 alone for herself. At last some one of her few 
 employers suggested she should apply for her 
 
BOB WARPHY'S KINDLY DEED 67 
 
 husband's assignment to herself, and promised 
 to back up her application. It was refused by 
 the Board of Assignments ; " applicant had 
 apparently no means of supporting the prisoner 
 applied for " ; and besides, " the prisoner applied 
 for is of very bad character, his police report 
 being notoriously bad, and it is essential to his 
 reformation and the protection of the com- 
 munity that he should be kept under strict 
 supervision in the gaol-gang." That settled it 
 for a time. 
 
 Then she got a hint from a junior in the 
 Board's office that if she could find £10 to fee 
 himself and one Timothy Pounce, the matter of 
 the assignment could be arranged. They would 
 make the terms very easy — would only ask for 
 half the sum down and the balance in six 
 months after her husband's assignment. Pounce, 
 for his half of the money, would forge an appli- 
 cation from a (fictitious) inland settler, and he 
 himself would put the necessary papers through 
 the Principal Superintendent's office and the 
 Board's office. Mary Jasker, however, could 
 not raise ten shillings, let alone ten pounds, and 
 thjjliberal offer of the Board's Junior Clerk was 
 reluctantly refused. 
 
 She was at her wits'-end when Mr. Robert 
 
68 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 Warphy introduced himself to her. Mr. Warphy 
 — albeit he was a Treasury official — was not 
 above doing a kindly deed, and being by chance 
 , present one day in the Principal Superintend- 
 ent's office when she had called to importune 
 that high authority to grant her husband's 
 services to save her and her boy from starving, 
 he had been interested by her manners and her 
 still pretty face. " Who's that woman ? " he had 
 asked of a Principal Superintendent's clerk. 
 
 "She wants to get her husband assigned to 
 her." 
 
 " Are you going to grant him ? " 
 
 " No — there's an objection : she can't support 
 him " 
 
 "S'pose not. What should a woman like 
 her want her man assigned for except to sup- 
 port her ? " 
 
 " Well, that's not all. The pris'ner's of bad 
 record. Very bad hulk-report, and a dozen or 
 so insubordination convictions." 
 
 " Oh, that's it, is it ! Well, she's still a pretty 
 piece of goods, and it might be worth while 
 helping her." 
 
 ' " You're too good, Warphy, you are!" laughed 
 the other. "You want another chere amie so 
 soon ? Why, it's only a couple of months since 
 
BOB WARPHY's KINDLY DEED 69 
 
 you got the Lynn woman her husband's free- 
 dom, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Yes, her and him. I caught a Tartar in 
 
 each of them ; but this little woman's different, 
 I'll wager. She'll keep open house for me for 
 longer than a couple of months if I do anything 
 for her." 
 
 From which observations may be inferred 
 the nature of Mr. Robert Warphy's kindly 
 
 intentions. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 He called on Mrs. Jasker, otherwise Griffiths, 
 at her miserable lodgings in Kent Street. 
 
 " You are Mrs. Jasker, ma'am ? " He bowed 
 courteously, for he was the very pink of affa- 
 bility, was Bob Warphy, of the Treasury. 
 
 She curtsied assent, as she, dropping her 
 sewing, prepared a chair for her visitor. 
 
 " And you wish, I'm told, to get your husband 
 assigned to you — he's in the gaol-gang now." 
 
 " Oh, sir, I do ! I can't make a living for 
 
 myself and my boy, sir, unless " She stopped, 
 
 the tremors of her starved frame revealing at 
 once her weakness and the excitement of the 
 hope which had already leapt up within her, for 
 she felt that this gentleman's call meant that 
 something would be done. 
 
70 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 " Unless he is freed ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, that is it. Oh, sir, will you get his 
 pardon or a ticket for him ? If you only knew 
 how we — that is, my little boy, sir, suffers from 
 want of food and clothes ! " 
 
 " I can understand ! " he said sympatheti- 
 cally, but never swerving one jot's-breadth from 
 his purpose. The Satyr is always relentless. 
 " Well, I think I can get him his pardon — or, at 
 least, his assignment to you." 
 
 " Oh, sir — God bless you ! sir." She broke 
 into a rush of tears. " Oh, sir, how can I thank 
 you ? " 
 
 " Oh, well, you know," he said, " these little 
 services are always paid for by an equivalent ! " 
 
 " Pay — equivalent ! " She repeated the words 
 aimlessly. How could she pay aught? And 
 the tears came again, this time the acrid drops 
 of disappointment. 
 
 " Oh, yes — you know it's always done when a 
 woman wants her husband's freedom. Why, 
 I've had three women when it was only a case 
 of tickets, not of pardon ; but seeing as it is 
 for you, dear — and that you're young and 
 pretty " — he stooped to kiss her — " I'll get him 
 his pardon." 
 
 Till this moment, his meaning was not clear 
 
BOB WARPHYS KINDLY DEED 7 1 
 
 to her. Now there could be no mistaking it. 
 She pushed him away with her utmost strength, 
 and threw at him a glance in which there was 
 hatred of the suggestion and scorn of the man 
 who uttered it. 
 
 " I thought you were — a gentleman ! " With 
 her thin hands beating down the tumult in her 
 breast, she forced herself to speak. " You take 
 — advantage — of my cruel necessity — of my 
 starving child ! " 
 
 " Eh ? nothing of the sort ! It's purely a 
 matter of bus'ness — done every day here — quite 
 the regular thing ! You want your husband and 
 I want — well — you ! " 
 
 " Sir, my husband shall die in chains first, and 
 my boy and I in the gutter. Go, sir, go ! " 
 
 " Oh, well, if you think better of my proposal, 
 you can always hear of me at the Treasury — 
 Warphy's my name — Mr. Robert W-ar-phy ! " 
 He turned to go, but paused on the threshold to 
 say one parting word. 
 
 " And, look here — I'll oppose any assignment 
 and any pardon — application for which doesn't 
 pass through my hands ! " 
 
 " I^shall go to the Governor, sir " 
 
 " Do, my good woman, and tell him what I've 
 said. Do you think he'll believe you — you, a 
 
72 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 transport's wife? Take care he doesn't im- 
 prison you for blackmailing and slandering an 
 officer of the Government. That's my advice, 
 and good day ! " 
 
 That was his advice — the advice of a 
 thoroughly experienced man of the Old Sydney 
 world. And she knew enough of Old Sydney 
 
 to act upon it. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 With breaking heart she struggled on for a 
 few weeks longer, when her boy cried for food. 
 Then, one day, taking her boy for a walk in the 
 Racecourse, from whence they passed by the, as 
 yet, roofless walls of St. Mary's Chapel to the 
 Domain, she saw her husband in the chain-gang 
 working by the Wooloomooloo embankment. 
 
 She drew as near as she could to him for 
 fear of the guards — to speak to the men of the 
 iron-gangs was a misdemeanour punishable 
 by imprisonment— and, scourging herself into 
 unnatural calmness, asked how he did. 
 
 In a brief whisper, that seemed, so acute was 
 its pain, to have sucked its bitterness from his 
 entrails, he begged her to get him " out of that." 
 " I shall die else — get me free — anyhow ! " 
 
 Stunned, she had but one thought. That her 
 husband had learnt of the ways in which Free- 
 
T30B WARPHY's KINDLY DEED 73 
 
 dom could be bought and sold, and that he 
 wished her to tread that path of humiliation 
 and sorrow. " How could he ! " she thought. 
 " If I had been he, I'd have died first ! " But 
 Jasker did not know ; his appeal had been 
 simply wrung from him by the utter misery of 
 his condition. 
 
 From the Domain she went to the Treasury 
 and asked for Mr. Robert Warphy. She was 
 shown into his room. 
 
 " If you will gain my husband's pardon, sir — 
 when you will ! " She looked into his face un- 
 blushingly. It was not for her to blush, she 
 thought. If the transaction was nefarious, it 
 was still a business one according to Old Sydney 
 notions, and she at least considered she was free 
 of its infamy. 
 
 There was this much to be said for Warphy. 
 He was a man of his word. Other men of 
 the System had entered into similar bargains, 
 and they had not invariably carried out their 
 part of the contract. Very religiously Warphy, 
 however, did. Within a few days, John Jasker, 
 per Ocean, received a conditional pardon. 
 Warphy did not do things by halves. 
 
 On the night of his release, Jasker sat in his 
 
74 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 wife's little room, and moaned out to her his 
 thankfulness that she had succeeded in winning 
 his pardon. 
 
 " But you have not told me, Mary, how you 
 managed it ! You had no money, I know ! " 
 
 For answer, she lifted her left hand to the line 
 of his vision. He looked up wonderingly, for he 
 did not guess her meaning. She had to make it 
 plainer. 
 
 "Do you not remember, John, my last words 
 on board the hulk ? " 
 
 " That I do, wife ! They've saved me many 
 a time from despair, and all that despair means 
 in the gangs." 
 
 " I said that I'd never take my ring off so 
 long as I was an honest woman ! " 
 
 "You did!" And he looked at the hand 
 ^gain — and saw the ring was not on it ! 
 
 She passed to the mantel, and taking a tiny 
 packet wrapped in paper from it, unfolded the 
 sheet, and held out to him her wedding-ring. 
 
 Then he understood ; and insisted upon the 
 
 whole story being told him. 
 
 * # * # 
 
 On the next day he earned ten shillings, 
 and on the next day but one he went into 
 Simpson's hardware stores, opposite the old 
 
BOB WARPHV'S KINDLY DEED 75 
 
 gaol in Lower George Street and bought a 
 horsewhip. 
 
 The Treasury was in George Street also. 
 Thither from the store he passed, but Mr. 
 Warphy was out — had gone to the Club in 
 Bent Street. Thither then he went. 
 
 And on the steps of the Club-house he saw 
 a number of gentlemen standing. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 He went up and saluted them. One and all 
 stared at his effrontery, for " Lag " was written, 
 if not on his face, at least in the dragging of his 
 left leg. They were amazed to the degree of 
 wrathfulness, as, not content with saluting, he 
 addressed them : — 
 
 " May I ask if either of you gentlemen is Mr. 
 Robert Warphy ? " 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! Mr. Warphy," condescended to 
 jocularly remark His Excellency General Ralph 
 Darling. " This the usual stamp of your Club- 
 callers ? " 
 
 " He ! he ! — not quite, your Excellency," re- 
 sponded Warphy, annoyed. "If you want to 
 see me, my man, you had better call at the 
 Treasury ! " 
 
 " This is a better place than the Treasury, 
 your Honour. You did me a kindness, Mr. 
 
76 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 Warphy, or rather, my wife one — and a kind- 
 ness done to my wife is one to me." 
 
 " Tush ! my man, I don't know you, and if I 
 did your wife a kindness, it is — he ! he ! — I trust 
 what I'm ready to do to any one." 
 
 " But, sir, this kindness is an exceptional one 
 — and should receive exceptional thanks. And, 
 sir, this is how I thank and repay you ! " 
 
 Uttering the last words, Jasker stepped for- 
 ward and, with the whip, struck Warphy 
 sharply across the face, and as sharply repeated 
 the blow before the bystanders could arrest his 
 arm. 
 
 " That's how I repay the kindness of the man 
 who obtained my freedom in exchange for the 
 debauching of my wife ! " 
 
 * * * * 
 
 At Charlotte Place Police Court within an 
 hour he was arraigned, and his police record — 
 including the hulk-report — having been pro- 
 duced in evidence of his desperate character, he 
 was ordered 300 lashes. At the seventeenth 
 stroke the weakliness of his nature mastered his 
 resolution. He died. 
 
THE LIBERATION OF 
 THE FIRST THREE 
 
 " T3 ELOW there!" 
 
 -L' The words of the call beat against the 
 walls of the shaft, were thrust (so it seemed) 
 from side to side, and throbbed into silence in 
 the darkness at its bottom. There was no 
 echo, but up the sixty feet of timbered open- 
 ing rang instantly metallic sounds, and then, a 
 moment later, an answering shout : — 
 
 " Yes, sir ! Here, sir ! " 
 
 " Show yourselves ! " 
 
 The speaker bent over the platform and 
 peered down. 
 
 " One, two — three, four — five, six ! " he 
 counted. " Right ! Any complaints ? " 
 
 " No, sir ! " came up. 
 
 " Good-night ! And, Page, the grating ? " 
 
 Lieut. Cooke, in command of the Port Arthur 
 Coal Mines Dep6t, with its gang of to-be- 
 peculiarly-punished convicts, so ordered ; and 
 
78 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 Lieut. Cooke's myrmidons in present attend- 
 ance thrust upon the mouth of the pit the iron 
 grating which saved His Majesty the cost of 
 a night sentry's services by blocking the egress 
 of the prisoners in No. 3 pit. The men of the 
 Regime .trusted few things to chance. The 
 half-dozen men in the galleries were doubly 
 ironed — trebly, if you reckon also the links 
 which bound each to another ; they were 
 separated from the surface by sixty feet of 
 ladderless shaft ; and yet had there been 
 nothing else to hold them to the spot where 
 the tender mercies of the Local Government 
 had lodged them, the men of the Regime 
 thought the chances were still in favour of 
 their escaping. Whereupon the Regime, being 
 crippled in the strength of its military guard, 
 hit upon the expedient of a grating to take the 
 place of a sentry — a grating with double pad- 
 locks, with inch-thick bars forged in the work- 
 shops at the Settlement specially under the eye 
 of Commandant Dr. Rossell, and with inter- 
 stices, perhaps, of two fingers' breadth. If the 
 pit- workers had any chance of escape, that 
 
 grating removed it. So the Regime thought. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 Yet so utterly oblivious were those wretches 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE FIRST THREE 79 
 
 immured in the galleries of No. 3, " Murderers' 
 Pit" — No. 1 was "Forgers'," and No. 2 was 
 "Gomorrah" — of the views and desires of the 
 Authorities that for some weeks past they had 
 been bent upon escaping. They didn't care a 
 " brass " for the Regime, or for those illustra- 
 tions of the Regime's loving-kindness — the 
 irons, the ladderless state of the shaft, and the 
 grating. Their difficulty was — food. It was 
 useless attempting to escape without a stock 
 of food, sufficient to last them for three weeks 
 or a month. And the supreme problem of 
 existence to them resolved itself into the ques- 
 tion how they were to steal the rations. 
 
 There were six of them, only a moiety of 
 them murderers. And those who had not mur- 
 dered were particularly unwilling to face the 
 grim recesses of the scrub which surrounded 
 the "coal-mines" without an ample supply of 
 rations. Macquarie Harbour had been broken 
 up a year or so, and the murderous moiety were 
 part of the lot from Hell's Gates. That was 
 why the other three were especially disinclined 
 to attempt a bolt without well-filled pockets. 
 Each of the Harbour men was doing a second 
 "life" term for escaping from a Sarah Island 
 gang. Each had bolted, and each had been 
 
80 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 recaptured — with a slavering mouth, that symp- 
 tom of an infamy. The non-murderous Three 
 paled, in the gloom of the galleries, when they 
 learnt, each from his brother-hewer, what had 
 caused the slaveeing. The gourmand is ever 
 smacking his lips over the remembrance of 
 some especially choice menu. The Three with 
 the blood-dyed records were gourmands. 
 
 Jones, Tooth, Hardy — these constituted the 
 murderful moiety. Phillips, Bunt, West — these 
 were the three who paled at the recital of the 
 others' banquet. By chains of thirty-six links 
 (say nine feet from the basil of one waist to 
 the waist of the other) was Jones fastened to 
 Phillips, and Tooth to Bunt, and Hardy to 
 West. Until Death or his twin-brethren of the 
 Regime chose to part them were the couples to 
 remain thus embraced. 
 
 In this companionship the men walked and 
 slept — " mealed " and " reported " themselves. 
 In this companionship were they to live and 
 die. That was the plain English of the arrange- 
 ment — of the latest invented detail of Colonel 
 George Arthur's newly established penal settle- 
 ment. 
 
 * * * * 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE FIRST THREE 8 1 
 
 At the mines the denizens of " Murderers' " 
 were known as " The Twins." Each " twin " 
 wore a pair of trousers, a basil or iron waist- 
 band, and his double ankle-shackles. Once a 
 month, for two hours, he wore also a shirt, 
 boots, and a cap. It was on Inspection Sun- 
 day, when Dr. Rossell came down to the 
 Mines to "report on the well-being of the 
 transports and other convicts," that this addi- 
 tional clothing was issued. One other daily 
 prerogative was to every man the half of the 
 nine-foot chain before mentioned. 
 
 Their heavy and airy costume offered little 
 or no impediment to the workers turning out 
 daily (Sundays excepted) their allotted tasks. 
 The hewing of fifteen hundredweight, such 
 "hundred" consisting of 120 lbs. — not more 
 than three out of the fifteen were to be com- 
 posed of slack and small coal — made up, with 
 the haulage to the shaft, the cutting of galleries 
 and the picking out of pillars, the daily quota 
 of each man. Not very difficult work, if it had 
 not been for the circumstances that only for 
 two hours per month did the ganger draw a 
 breath o£, air which was uncontaminated with 
 coal-dust, and that the daily ration-scale per- 
 mitted him only 16 ozs. uncooked maize-meal, 
 
 G 
 
82 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 1 2 ozs. of meat with bone, i oz. of salt, \ oz. of 
 soap, and unlimited water. But these circum- 
 stances were not calculated to strengthen the 
 physical stamina, and even with the aid of the 
 allowance of candles (four per man per week, 
 which were as often as not treated as adjuncts 
 to the larder) the task sometimes proved be- 
 yond their strength to perform. 
 
 With the reminiscence of the Harbour 
 banquets constantly before them, the Three 
 with the Stained Records grew hungry and 
 went weaker to their work, and failed to per- 
 form it, and, to save themselves from being 
 flogged on Inspection Sundays, confiscated 
 pretty frequently the fruits of their chain- 
 mates' toil. 
 
 Phillips was lugging his basket one evening 
 to the end of the gallery to have it hoisted to 
 the pit-mouth, when Jones, necessarily going 
 with him because of their mutual chain, insinu- 
 ated that he would be obliged by Phillips 
 handing him half a basketful. 
 
 " Only 'arf, Ben ! I'll giv' it yer back sum' 
 time." 
 
 " No ! " said Phillips resolutely. " You owe 
 me two baskets now. And being short last 
 inspection got me a dozen." 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE FIRST THREE 83 
 
 " Yer won't, won't yer ! Yer won't give me 
 •arf?" 
 
 " No ! " 
 
 " Then I'll take all ! " 
 
 And, being a man of his word, he did. In 
 the Overman Page's tally-book that night Jones 
 was credited with two baskets ; Phillips -with 
 two-thirds of one — and that "small." 
 
 "Look 'ere, No. 4"— Phillips was "4"— 
 shouted the Overman. " Short agen ! Lor', 
 yer'll 'av er devil of er lot ter make up by 
 Sunday week. An' if yer don't, it'll be two 
 dozen next time, mark my words ! Com'dant 
 won't stand no nonsense ! " 
 
 The process of confiscation went on pretty 
 frequently and almost regularly, and regularity 
 also was conspicuous in the matter of the 
 floggings received by Phillips, Bunt, and West. 
 The Lieutenant and the Overman wondered how 
 it was that the three desperate Harbour men 
 never failed to produce their tally of work, 
 while the others, of better reputation, were 
 nearly always "short." For, of course, the 
 story of the confiscations could not be told. 
 The Thfee would have made dreadfully short 
 work of the man who informed against their 
 tyranny. 
 
84 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 It was the victims of the confiscation policy 
 who first pronounced for a " bolt." They had 
 got tired of the treatment ^ to which they were 
 subjected by their chain-mates and the authori- 
 ties combined ; and, as the period of their 
 confinement lengthened, their bodily weakness 
 would increase, though the labour and the 
 punishments would grow heavier. If they 
 
 could only escape ! 
 
 # * * * 
 
 One day, Phillips was "outsider" on his 
 chain. That is to say, he was working nearest 
 the shaft in a gallery. His chain-mate, Jones, 
 had been slumbering the length of the chain 
 • away. In the movement of his arms as, lying 
 on his side, he wielded the short pick, Phillips 
 could not avoid jerking the links, and conse- 
 quently Mr. Jones' repose had been disturbed. 
 He had remonstrated with a lump, of coal and 
 an oath, and it was under the influence of the 
 pain excited by the former striking him on the 
 face that Phillips, in a hoarse whisper, said : 
 " God ! that I could bolt from this slavery ! " 
 
 West was outsider in the adjacent gallery, 
 his mate, Hardy, like Jones, also preferring to 
 be lazily recumbent. West caught the whisper 
 and echoed it : "I would to God I could ! " 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE FIRST THREE 85 
 
 When lodging their — and their mates' — bas- 
 kets in the shaft chamber that night, Bunt was 
 spoken to by Phillips. " Would he make one 
 to bolt ! " 
 
 " Would I bolt from hell ! Try me ! " 
 
 »(p v -If V 
 
 Their unofficial masters, the Three with the 
 Records, discovered, it is impossible to say 
 how, the intention of their three slaves. Per- 
 haps the galleries carried the sound of the 
 whispers ; perhaps in the disturbed sleep of one 
 or other the design was revealed. And learn- 
 ing it, the Three adopted the notion. For a 
 couple of days they kept their subservient 
 chain-mates on the inside, while they them- 
 selves, meeting at a point to which their 
 respective galleries converged, discussed the 
 possibilities. 
 
 " Them 'uns are for a-boltin', are they ? " said 
 Jones to Tooth, who was the discoverer of the 
 escaping scheme. " Now, we've got to go with 
 them or we've to die ! " 
 
 " That's it, sure ! " responded Jones. " They 
 ain't no chance of gettin' away unless they kill 
 us, or we go with 'em. An' we've been a-usin' 
 'em so that it's not in reason they'll want to 
 take us with 'em." 
 
86 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 Hardy took up the parable. " O' cos not ! 
 W cud they ? But our lay'll be to find out all 
 their plans, an' then to blow 'em, 1 if they ain't 
 good 'nuff to foller ! " 
 
 The three mouths which had known the 
 slavering were very close to one another, and 
 the three heads to which they belonged touched. 
 The three bodies were crouching closely, so that 
 no syllables of the muttered infamies should 
 penetrate to the men at the lower end of the 
 chains. 
 
 " Hist ! " said Jones. " An' if they're good 
 'nuff, wot then ? We ain't a-goin' to take them 
 along ! " 
 
 " Yer a fool if yer don't, then ! " was 
 
 Hardy's answer. "Wot yer goin' to live on 
 till yer reach the settled disrick ? " 
 
 The dreadful emphasis of his last phra'se 
 invoked the reminiscent delight of his brother 
 gourmands. And in the next few moments of 
 fiendish converse they developed their plans. 
 Which, after all, did not include the taking of 
 the Three Without with them. 
 
 S& ■& 3fc- 3$ 
 
 " Wot d'yer say to bolt, boys ? " Jones took 
 
 * " Blow 'em " ; Disclose them to the authorities. 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE FIRST THREE 87 
 
 upon himself to say the same night, as they all 
 drew up to the bottom of the shaft to be 
 mustered. The Lieutenant-in-Command was 
 exact. He mustered nightly. He would stand 
 by the pit-mouth, and, looking downwards, 
 could tell, in the light of the candles held by 
 each prisoner, their several heads. " Wot d'yer 
 say ? " 
 
 Phillips, Bunt, and West sent at each other 
 accusatory glances. Who had told their op- 
 pressors ? Or had it been simply a coincidence 
 that the other three had framed a similar plan ? 
 Usually suspicious, and not knowing how much 
 the others knew or guessed, each of the non- 
 murderous fellows mumbled that " he would 
 make one to go." 
 
 " Then arter muster we'll talk ! " And when 
 the officer's " Good-night " had hailed them all 
 derisively, and the overseer had clanged down 
 the grating which shut them all into their 
 living tomb, and they had put out their candles 
 to save a portion of the dip — ten to the pound 
 — for eating, the Three with the Records took 
 the Three Without into that part of their con- 
 fidence "which they thought fit to share. It 
 wasn't much; nor was it even the material 
 part. 
 
88 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME . 
 
 " We're goin' to bolt, boys, an' if as yer likes 
 yer can jine us. An' it's death to every one as 
 blows ! " 
 
 The Three who were undergraduates mut- 
 tered assent to the spokesman of the Three 
 graduates. 
 
 " An' if yer jine us, we'll do our full tally till 
 we make the bolt. Yer won't ha' to do any o' 
 our work"!" 
 
 The undergraduates' assent was not needed 
 to this. Had it been expected, they were too 
 surprised to express it. 
 
 " We've been a bit 'ard, p'r'aps, but yer*d ha' 
 been just th' same if yer'd had th' upper 'and. 
 An' if yer agrees to go, we'll let bygones be 
 bygones, an' share an' shar.e alike." The mag- 
 nanimity of the scoundrels ! 
 
 Jones went on : " An' our noshun is to save 
 each o' us an 'arf rashun a day for a fortnight. 
 It'll be 'ard jonnicks to do our tally on short 
 'lowunce, but it's our only chance. Then we've 
 som'at to start on. We'll 'av a candle or two 's 
 well apiece, an' wi' th' lot we orter manage 
 ten days or a fortnight outside." 
 
 He paused. The graduates listened eagerly 
 for sound of dissent. None came. Had the 
 juniors fallen into the trap ? Would they do 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE FIRST THREE 89 
 
 full work on half rations so as to accumulate a 
 store of food ? Bunt said, " Go on ! " 
 
 " Once out, we'll make for Pirates' Bay. I've 
 'erd on a cave wot's there w'ere there's a bed o' 
 shell-fish. An' we can lay by for a time. But 
 th' trouble is — to get out ! " 
 
 That was the trouble. The problem made 
 each of them breathe hardly. The freeing 
 themselves from irons was comparatively easy, 
 but the scaling of the sixty feet of shaft, and 
 then — the grating ! The silence was unbroken 
 for a full minute, save for their laboured inspira- 
 tions. Then Bunt spoke, hesitatingly. He did 
 not know how much the Three seniors had 
 learnt from Phillips and West, and he thought 
 that if they were aware of what he had in his 
 possession, it would still be to his advantage 
 with them to deal frankly, and to appear as 
 though he fully trusted them. If they did not 
 know, surely they would appreciate highly the 
 generosity of his announcement. 
 
 "Well — ye must know, Mr. Jones, as I've a — 
 a — watch-nick." 
 
 The Three With leapt, or tried to leap, to 
 their feet. A watch-nick ! The gods were 
 good ! 
 
 " Ye're a brick, Bunt ! " shouted Jones, while 
 
go TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 Tooth and Hardy made use of similar highly 
 complimentary remarks. " Were did yer get 
 it ? An' let's see it ! Strike a light, Hardy." 
 
 The flint and steel permitted them by the 
 graciousness of Lieutenant Cooke emitted a 
 faint spark, and, in a moment, a dip's flame 
 lessened the shadows in the anxious faces. 
 Bunt held in his hand a delicate watch-spring 
 saw. The Three With shouted again and again, 
 for Bunt grasped between his fingers — Freedom, 
 if not for himself, for them. 
 
 " Ye're a clever 'un, Bunt ! " said Tooth, think- 
 ing that perhaps, after all, they had better 
 exempt Bunt from the principal feature of their 
 plan — a man so ingenious as to keep a watch- 
 nick from the knowledge of the authorities, 
 notwithstanding repeated searchings, was good 
 enough to make one of the party. "'Owever 
 did yer manage it ? " 
 
 Bunt was silent. He was affrighted, for he had 
 seen, by the candle-gleam, in Phillips' eyes and 
 those of West emphatic condemnation of his 
 folly in revealing his possession of the precious 
 thing to the murderers. 
 
 " I've — had it a long time," he at last stam- 
 mered when Jones repeated Tooth's question, 
 
 " An' never told us ! That warn't fair, Bunty. 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE FIRST THREE 9 1 
 
 Yer sh'u'd ha' been friendly, Bunty^an' yer'd 
 ha' saved yerself a lot. Eny one who's got a 
 watch-nick's got to be treated kind. An' I tell 
 yer wot we'll do, boys. Jest 'cos Bunt's puttin' 
 us under the favour o' lettin' us a-use his nick, 
 we'll help 'un all we can with his tally. That's 
 fair, ain't it, boys ! " 
 
 The five agreed. And then, at Jones' sug- 
 gestion, or rather command, for none disputed 
 his assumption of the leadership, they took 
 the Convict Oath. They chanted the eight 
 verses, which began : — 
 
 " Hand to hand, 
 
 On Earth, in Hell, 
 Sick or Well, 
 On Sea, on Land, 
 
 On the Square, ever." 
 
 And ended — the intervening verses dare not be 
 quoted — 
 
 " Stiff or in Breath, 
 Lag or Free, 
 You and Me, 
 In Life, in Death, 
 
 On the Cross, never." 
 
 They chanted them with crossed and re- 
 crossed bands, and the foot of each pressed to 
 the foot of another. And after the verses, the 
 "loving-cup" of blood. Not a very copious 
 
92 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 draught — to provide a hearty drink would have 
 weakened them, and their leader was too much 
 of the general to occasion an unnecessary de- 
 mand on their strength — only a drop or two 
 from each man's open vein, sucked by every 
 other man. So was fealty to their leader, 
 honour to one another, plighted. The Convict 
 Oath was a terrible thing ; it was never broken, 
 without occasioning death to some one — not 
 necessarily to the violator. f John Price died 
 in 1857 because of a Convict Oath registered 
 at Norfolk Island in the Forties. 
 
 It was a terrible thing, that Oath. So the 
 undergraduates, at least, thought it ; and though 
 they had distrust and hate of the graduates in 
 their hearts, they were prepared to loyally carry 
 out the compact. They found it the easier to 
 do so because the murderers before them, who 
 had gone through the horrid drill of " starving 
 for a bolt," helped them in every way. 
 
 The Three With not only did not exact from 
 the Three Without any contribution of coal, but 
 actually helped them. Jones filled two-thirds 
 of Phillips' basket one day in addition to his 
 own ; and Tooth ran the risk of a flogging on 
 Inspection Sunday because he kept Bunt's creel 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE FIRST THREE 93 
 
 supplied. When half-way on the starving time, 
 Bunt "jacked-up" on half-rations, and feM ill 
 for a couple of days. " No, Bunty, my man, 
 you mustn't take more meal — it'll do you harm 
 now. Stick to the half, and ye'll be used to it 
 in another day or two. Meantime, I'll do your 
 tally." 
 
 Then the Three With put up the others to all 
 the dodges as to economising food that they 
 had learnt in the dread school of the Harbour. 
 The graduates completed the knowledge of the 
 undergraduates by showing how the proper 
 sucking of a bone was as good as meat, and 
 how, if an ounce of meat were chewed to a ball, 
 then withdrawn from the mouth, and hardened 
 by exposure to the air, it would appease hunger 
 as effectually as the mastication of the whole 
 ration. They taught the neophytes how to 
 extract the nutriment from soap, and the best 
 way of utilising the candles. "The wick's a 
 meal in itself, Bunty — eat the grease separ- 
 ately," tenderly advised Tooth. 
 
 But the main sustenance of the six during 
 the starving time was derived from the subtle 
 
 elixir of<hope. 
 
 * # *. *■ 
 
 The hour, for the attempt was fixed for the 
 
94 ' TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 Saturday night midway between two Inspection 
 Sundays. 
 
 r The Three With wanted it earlier — as early 
 as possible after the next Inspection day. But 
 the Three Without, remembering Macquarie 
 Harbour, said to themselves that they would 
 not then have food enough. So it was fixed 
 for the second Saturday. 
 
 The grating was thrown open at five o'clock 
 on week-day mornings, but on Sundays an hour 
 and a half later. That hour and a half would 
 mean a longer start — and a good start was 
 everything in a " bolt." 
 
 The first Inspection Sunday after the deci- 
 sion was come to was passed safely. No one 
 " split " or " peached " ; all tallies were right 
 except Tooth's. On his score for a month he 
 was five hundredweight short. But he took his 
 " dozen " as mildly as the mother takes the tiny 
 blows of her infant's pulpy fingers. And, when 
 all was said and done, what was twenty-five 
 to Tooth, who left Hell's Gates with two 
 thousand charged against him on the books and 
 impressed on his back ? 
 
 That Sunday night they began the actual 
 business — the starving was merely a preliminary 
 — of escape. They fractured their irons — ank- 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE FIRST THREE 95 
 
 lets, waist-chains and basils; Only the last were 
 sawn through with the watch-nick. When the 
 last girdle was parted, they examined the saw 
 eagerly. It was scarcely blunted ! 
 
 - 1 " To think of a-gettin* off the thing so 
 
 neat ! " cried Jones, affected to tears of grati- 
 tude. 
 
 " Lor' ! 'tis much nicer than the col' chisel ! " 
 In the rare cases — one, say, in a hundred — 
 that a girdle or basil once on was taken off, the 
 cold chisel was the cutting instrument. And 
 cold chisels had a nasty habit of slipping and 
 gashing the abdomen. 
 
 With the release of their bodies from the iron 
 bands it became possible to achieve the next 
 step towards consummating the " bolt." 
 
 The walls of the shaft were, as has been 
 indicated, timber-lined. The planks were laid 
 horizontally, and the natural tendency of the 
 Rigime to economy would have prompted the 
 Authorities to leave apertures between each 
 plank, thus making two do the work of three, 
 had it not been for the consideration that a 
 foothold would be given to any convict ven- 
 turing upon the escalade. The timbers were 
 
g6 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 accordingly laid flush, without — so concluded 
 the Overman after due examination — affording 
 a solitary crevice or a knot which the ingenuity 
 of the prisoners could turn to the least account 
 in mounting. Nevertheless, the six were deter- 
 mined upon ascending. 
 
 The chamber at the bottom of the pit, into 
 which the vein-galleries, and the working and 
 air-drives opened, was ten feet deep. That was 
 the first difficulty to surmount. 
 
 Three men bunched together, and with hands 
 round each other's necks and bent heads, stood 
 upright. 
 
 On their shoulders mounted two. And upon 
 the shoulders of the two the sixth man — Jones 
 — crept up, and wrested from its perpendiculars, 
 two or three feet above the swaying pillar of 
 bestial humanity, a plank. The gap would 
 leave a foothold. 
 
 Then, he climbed to the gap, and, with labour 
 that shook his frame to a palsy, pulled from its 
 place a second plank. That was the work of 
 the first night.. 
 
 The next night three more planks were 
 hauled down. The same building up of the 
 tottering, sweating pedestal of flesh, the same 
 wrestling with nails and cleats, the same great 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE FIRST THREE 97 
 
 gaspings of pain and relief as the planks were 
 pressed upon, bent and gave way. 
 
 The third night, and the fourth night, and the 
 fifth night planks were loosened, taken out, and 
 then replaced loosely. Jones was getting near 
 the pit-mouth now, and was well within the rim 
 of light from the surface. He dare not leave 
 the gaps, for fear they might be observed from 
 above. The Men of the Regime were wont to 
 discourage ingenuity. 
 
 From the topmost of the loosened planks, it 
 would be easy to reach the walls at right angles 
 with the side on which the gaps had been made. 
 Then, the last plank so extracted would be used 
 to bridge the angle, and to form a standing- 
 stage for the man who attacked the grating 
 with the watch-nick. And Jones was resolved 
 that that man should be himself. The man 
 who filed away the grating-bars would be first 
 out of the shaft. 
 
 All this time the saved rations and candles 
 were accumulating. Heavens ! the daily 
 horrors of endurance and the frightful pangs 
 suffered by these men ! The conquest over 
 the griping hunger, which might be gratified 
 in a moment if they would— the forcing of the 
 energies to the Titanic task of turning-out the 
 
 11 
 
98 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 allotted quantity per day with semi-paralysed 
 limbs and flaccid nerves — the patience, the for- 
 titude, the suffering — would have been heroic in 
 a better cause — nay, were heroic in this very 
 instance. Was not this cause the sacred one 
 of Freedom ? 
 
 "God ! I couldn't stand it ff it weren't for 
 freedom ! " cried Phillips to Jones on the seventh 
 night. 
 
 " Yes, 'tis for freedom ! " Jones responded, 
 and he coughed loudly, and rang his short pick 
 against the seam. 
 
 " I wish I'd that basil on again, I do," said 
 Phillips. " I'd not get hungry so soon. I'll tie 
 something on my stomach — tight." 
 
 An answering ring had come from Tooth's 
 gallery, and from Hardy's. 
 
 " Don't trouble, Phillips," cried Jones, raising 
 his voice to a shout. "Freedom's come — orl- 
 ready." It was the signal. 
 
 The pick crashed into the base of Phillips' 
 skull. The blow was neatly aimed — sowelU 
 that Phillips did not groan once, nor stirred 
 whence he lay. 
 
 Hardy and Tooth were less adept. It took a 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE FIRST THREE 9$ 
 
 second blow from each to finish their respective 
 victims. 
 
 Then the Three, who had added another stain 
 to their records, met in the chamber. 
 
 "That's th' next part o' our plan well got 
 through," said Jones. " We're gettin' on. We've 
 lib'rated one Three ; we're goin' to lib'rate 
 
 'nother." 
 
 # * * » 
 
 That was on the seventh night — a Saturday. 
 The next stage towards freedom was the draw- 
 ing of the dead men's rations. 
 
 Every morning rations were issued for the 
 men mustered overnight. The collective por- 
 tion for " Murderers' " was sent down in the 
 first baskets in the morning. 
 
 The remaining Three had their own half- 
 rations for the starvation time on hand. Also, 
 the like quantity which had been accumulated 
 by the self-denial of the dead men. Still, they 
 had not enough. They wanted more! None 
 of them cared for setting out in company 
 with his brother gourmands with only a poor 
 
 larder. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 On each of the eighth to the fifteenth nights, 
 inclusive, the dead men were mustered. And 
 
IOO TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 on each successive morning there came down 
 in the first basket the dead men's rations. 
 
 Night after night would each of the still 
 imprisoned Three place one of his liberated 
 mates — the one he had himself freed — against 
 the back-wall of the chamber and fix a candle in 
 his hand. And night after night would Lieu- 
 tenant Cooke look down — audibly count, by the 
 dips' flame, six heads and six hands holding 
 candles — and, having " mustered " them, wish 
 them all " good-night ! " 
 
 Night after night, till the fifteenth, were the 
 six mustered, and none of them made com- 
 plaint, and all drew their rations regularly the 
 next day. The dead as well as the quick drew 
 their rations. And the nostrils of the living 
 were filled with the odour of the dead, and 
 they, too, would have died, but that they were 
 stayed by the hope of liberty. 
 
 And on the fifteenth night the Other Three 
 also won Freedom, in a way to be told. 
 
THE LIBERATION OF 
 THE OTHER THREE 
 
 THE morning after the liberation of the first 
 Three of the gang working in " Mur- 
 derers' " Pit, Port Arthur coal-mines, was joyous 
 above ground. The atmosphere was tinted with 
 a vaporous blue, through which gleamed and 
 shimmered splashes of orient gold. Page, over- 
 man, carolled in the lightness of his heart and 
 in the exhilaration of spirits which were born of 
 the splendour of the day, and as he weighed 
 into the baskets the rations for the Six below, 
 he threw in a benison with them. " Poor 
 devils ! To think of them being down there on 
 a day like this ! God help 'em ! " 
 
 Yet, as the reply-signal came up the shaft, 
 " Rashuns c'rect, sir ! " there was nothing par- 
 ticularly distressing in the accents of the answer- 
 ing voice — there was, indeed, something of 
 merriment in the tones. And then Page re- 
 
102 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 collected that, of course, the gang of miners 
 could not possibly know that Nature had 
 opened that morning her richest treasury of 
 beauty, and had decked peaks and ranges, arms 
 of the sea and clumps of forest, with light that 
 was glorious and shade that was luminous. 
 Sixty feet deep in the womb of the earth, 
 Nature's soft moods and her harsh moods were 
 alike to the Six. The lowering of the tempest 
 did not increase the gloom which held them, 
 vice-like ; the radiance of a dawn which had 
 missed its way, and arrived on this nether 
 sphere instead of at Paradise, did not reduce its 
 intensity by the shade of a shadow. So Page's 
 second thoughts shaped themselves something 
 like this, and he wasted no more sympathy on 
 the entombed workers. After all, they were 
 "below" because their crimes had sent them 
 there. 
 
 To tell the exact truth, the men below in 
 " No. 3 " were almost as joyous as freeman Page 
 himself. Page had never known what it was to 
 have lost freedom. Therefore, he could never 
 know what it was to be within measurable 
 distance of acquiring it, though withheld by the 
 Authorities. And that higher pleasure was now 
 being enjoyed by the men below. Tljat \ps 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE OTHER THREE IO3 
 
 the reason why the voice owned by Mr. Jones, 
 principal felon of " Murderers'," was slightly 
 unsteady with laughter. They had been pre- 
 sented, had the men below, with a superfluity of 
 rations that morning, and every extra ration 
 meant another tool with which to plot their path 
 to liberty. That was why Jones, and his co- 
 villains, Hardy and Tooth, indulged in vibrant 
 chuckles. Laugh ! Who would not have 
 laughed at the notion of making the System 
 contribute to its own defeat ? They had a right 
 to laugh. 
 
 " Sixteen ounces meat, an' three of us don't 
 want none ! Three poun's ! Two whole days' 
 tucker apiece if we like to put ourselves on 
 short commons w'en we've given 'em leg-bail. 
 An' that's not countin' the meat ! " 
 
 " Right, Jones ! Without the meat. And it's 
 not a bad lump. See ! " Hardy held up the 
 day's rations of meat — a shapeless chunk of 
 half-raw beef. " There's an ounce or two over, 
 I'll swear ! " 
 
 " Let's weigh it, an' see ! " The Other Three 
 drew together beneath the tallow-dip, which 
 was alL they chose to illuminate the gallery 
 with. Jones put his hand into a cup-like recess 
 in a bank of clay and drew out their "weights," 
 
104 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 The necessity of checking their rations and of 
 making a fair distribution among themselves 
 had compelled them to shape from lumps of 
 coal " weights " of varying denominations, from 
 an ounce to a pound. They had brought the 
 lumps to a point nearly accurate by using a 
 meal-ration as a standard — the meal-rations 
 were seldom wrong, it was the meat which 
 was frequently deficient — and the lumps could 
 be depended upon to half an ounce. The 
 balance-scales were supplied by the convicts' 
 own hands. 
 
 The coal-weights in one hand, and the rations 
 in the other — that was the way of it ; and being 
 among the elder Children of the System, they 
 had had so much experience in checking food 
 that they could jtell at once when the ration was 
 lighter or heavier than the symbol of weight. 
 
 " Six times twelve ounces is seventy-two 
 ounces — that is wot, Hardy ? " 
 
 " Four poun's an' a half." 
 
 Jones placed a pound " weight " and a half- 
 pound "weight" within the canvas bag which 
 contained their meal-ration, and taking it in his 
 left hand, balanced in his right the beef. 
 
 " Seems right ! But you try, Toothy. We'll 
 all try ! " 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE OTHER THREE IO5 
 
 "Go on ! Ain't we all on the square, now 
 that we've done for — " the speaker stopped to 
 jerk his thumb in the direction of gallery No. 2 
 — " them ? We're goin' to trust you, Jones — 
 ain't you willin', Hardy ? " 
 
 " O' course I am ! Jones is goin' to play fair 
 — we're all a-goin' to play fair — we've taken the 
 Oath — an' one can't get away without the 
 others." 
 
 " Right yer are, boys, then ! We'll jest be 
 loyal brothers o' the Oath, same as we wor at 
 th' 'Arbour. An,' o' cos, we're a-goin' to bolt to- 
 gether. One can't go 'lone — we've all to go, or 
 none. Then we won't bother 'bout weighin' the 
 rashuns no more, shall we ? " 
 
 " No, o' course not ! " repeated Hardy. Tooth 
 echoed the assent. 
 
 And Jones' lips, which had grown dry in the 
 fever of his anxiety, grew moist again. 
 
 This prince of scoundrels had determined, if 
 the others would consent to let the rations go , 
 unweighed, that he, at least, would maintain his 
 strength unimpaired. Plausibility, when backed 
 by resource and ability to execute, came to the 
 front as readily in the circle of convictdom as it 
 does in the financial and political world of to- 
 day. Jones was leader of his gang by virtue of 
 
I06 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 his eminent unscrupulousness. In a different 
 sphere he would have amassed a fortune by 
 speculating with other people's money. Now 
 he proposed to wrest freedom for himself from 
 the grasp of the Regime by using the trustful- 
 ness of his brother-rogues and their rations. 
 
 That was their one merit. Their infamy was 
 not so stupendous as his. They really meant 
 to obey the Oath each had taken to be faithful 
 to his fellows. He didn't. 
 
 " Now, boys, to work ! " When Jones had 
 issued the half-ration which was to be eaten by 
 each that day, he reminded them of their duty. 
 
 "We've to do double tides, boys. On 'arf 
 rashuns. But it's on'y for a week, boys ; an' 
 then, my word ! won't we bite into pur first free 
 grub ! " So, with example and voice he gave 
 them the encouragement a general should al- 
 ways extend to his followers. And though 
 they were hungry, they took up picks and maul 
 and began to hew bravely at their double task. 
 
 Each had fifteen hundredweight to hew for 
 himself. 
 
 And each had fifteen hundredweight to hew 
 for a man in No. 2 gallery yonder. 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE OTHER THREE 10? 
 
 Thirty hundredweight, each single hundred - 
 "weight of one hundred and twenty pounds 
 avoirdupois, in all, was to be the day's portion 
 for eight consecutive days. A double portion — 
 and only half-rations whereon to perform it. 
 For the men in No. 2 gallery would not help. 
 
 Three workers only — and six mustered 
 nightly — and rations for six drawn matutinally ! 
 How was it done ? 
 
 The Three in No. 2 gallery were the Three to 
 whom Death the Emancipator had come — 
 Phillips, Bunt, West. And the Three — Jones, 
 Hardy, Tooth — who worked were the Three 
 who had been the humble instruments by which 
 the others had been granted their freedom. 
 Phillips had been freed by Jones, Bunt by 
 Tooth, West by Hardy, and all because the 
 three agents of the Emancipator wanted the 
 rations of the others to make due provision for 
 escape. 
 
 They could only,obtain the rations by putting 
 
 orward the dead men at muster. If the dead 
 
 men were, not mustered, Page, the overman, or 
 
 perhaps Lieutenant Cooke himself, would be 
 
 down to investigate the cause, and a discovery 
 
IOS TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 would be as fatal to Jones', Tooth's, and Hardy's 
 chances of escape, and to their lives, as their own 
 picks had been to the existence of the dead 
 Three. So the nightly muster was essential; 
 and because the dead men were mustered, it 
 was also necessary that their tally of coal 
 should be made up by their murderers. If the 
 baskets went up empty for one night, that 
 might be allowed to pass, save for the intima- 
 tion next morning that the workers " had better 
 brighten up or stand the brunt " ; but a second 
 occurrence of " empties " would almost certainly 
 be followed by a visit from up above. On the 
 other hand, toil as they would, it was impossible 
 to furnish the full quota, and it was a work 
 which bore them down with a horribly exacting 
 strain to hew a quantity sufficient to allot to 
 each of the two baskets now to be filled by 
 every man two-thirds of the appointed portion. 
 
 It was on the seventh day after Inspection 
 Sunday that the Three had been liberated ; and 
 the night of the escape was fixed for the Satur- 
 day night midway between that Inspection 
 Sunday and the next. 
 
 The Three were liberated, we say, on a Satur- 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE OTHER THREE 109 
 
 day night. The following morning the conver- 
 sation as to the rations took place. That 
 Sunday night the first muster happened. 
 
 " One — Two — Three — Four — Five — Six. All 
 right ! Any complaints ? " asked Lieutenant 
 Cooke. "No? then good-night!" And the 
 iron grating, with its inch-thick bars, and its 
 interstices between the bars of two fingers' 
 breadth, was slammed down. 
 
 The first muster was arranged for in this 
 wise: Jones was to take Phillips, Hardy, the 
 cadaver of West, and Tooth that of Bunt. 
 Each was to prop his man against the back- 
 wall of the chamber at the foot of the shaft. 
 And into the right hand of every corpse his 
 mate and murderer was to place a candle. 
 Cooke counted by heads and candles. 
 
 " 'Ere yer, Phillips," quoth the facetious 
 Jones, "jest yer stand there an' answer for yer- 
 sel'. Stand up, I say." He thrust the body 
 into a more upright position, and pulled the 
 dead man's leathern cap over the fractured 
 skull. " 'Ere ; it ain't in 'cordance with reg' la- 
 shin's that yer 'tend muster wi' yer cap on. If 
 Cooke sees ,yer there'll be ructions, Phillips, ol' 
 man." And he rammed the cap down with a 
 succession of taps. 
 
HO TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 Hardy; in killing West, had made a very 
 awkward job of it. The man's head fell on his 
 breast, disclosing a fearful gash on the back of 
 his neck. Hardy shuddered for the first time, 
 as he pushed the head into its normal position. 
 " Jones, give us a hand here ; I can't get this 
 fellow right." Between them they managed at 
 last to bolster up the dead man with pieces of 
 timber, so that his attitude should not appear 
 strange to the mustering officer. 
 
 Tooth, with Bunt, was the least successful of 
 the lot. All the spare timber had been used to 
 brace West up against the wall, and do what 
 Tooth could, he could not fix his victim in an 
 erect posture. Moreover, he was the only one 
 of the Three who was at present dominated by 
 the mystery of death. He had murdered be- 
 fore — twice — and never yet had he felt that 
 awful thrill which the homage of the Uncon- 
 querable Presence seldom omits to demand 
 from feeble mortals as a preliminary tribute to 
 their own subjugation by him. But his previous 
 crimes had been perpetrated, one in the open 
 field, the other in the mute solitudes of Mac- 
 quarie Harbour forests, and in both cases he 
 had fled from the blood-dyed spot the instant 
 the fatal blow had been given. Here, however, 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE OTHER THREE I 1 1 
 
 there was no possibility of fleeing away from 
 the place of the murder ; for a week, if the pro- 
 cess of decomposition did not earlier drive the 
 living forth from the weird companionship of 
 the dead, he would be face to face With the man 
 he had slain. His nature was vicious, har- 
 dened ; but while it did not wear, on the one 
 hand, that indurated crust of utterly conscience- 
 less villainy which characterized Jones, it, on 
 the other, lacked that capacity for reasoning 
 which enabled Hardy to dissipate the super- 
 stitious notions that naturally arose from their 
 proximity to the Three ghastlinesses. So he 
 handled Bunt shrinkingly, and it was with a 
 strident agony puncturing the syllables that he 
 cried out, " Oh, Jones, come here ! " 
 
 " Wot's the matter, Toothy ? Don't yer like 
 yer job ? Ain't yer got a toottisome morsel 
 there ? " And then the wretch stopped short, 
 for yet another foul idea had been generated 
 within that nest of devilish inventions, his 
 brain. If he could only induce Tooth and 
 Hardy to use the murdered men as they had 
 used-ig. the Harbour wilderness the foody of 
 ^■he" boy who had confided in them when they 
 6ad endeavoured to escape from Sarah Island, 
 why, thjre would be all the more rations for 
 
I I 2 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 himself when the time came for him to bolt. 
 
 He repeated his shameful pun. " W'y," he 
 
 chuckled hugely, " w'y, yer don't answer, Toothy 
 
 — now, w'y shu'dn't it be toothsome, Toothy, an' 
 
 'Ardy ? It'll save rashuns, won't it ? " 
 " No ! no !" cried Tooth. " I couldn't a bear that 
 
 'ere. . Let's 'ave none o' that. We'll have grub 
 
 'nough, 'sides." 
 
 Hardy replied more slowly, as though he 
 
 were thinking carefully over the proposition. 
 
 " Well," he said, " I don't see why we shouldn't ! 
 
 We may be stuck at Pirates' for a week or two, 
 
 an' it mayn't be the season for shell-fish." 
 Their notion was to make for Pirates' Bay, 
 
 once they had got out of the shaft. 
 
 " No ! " roared Tooth, " no ! I won't 'ave it. 
 
 We'll have 'nough without." . 
 
 There was a tremor that betokened abject 
 
 fear in the wretch's voice, and Jones perforce 
 abandoned his latest invention. His experience 
 of his brother convicts warned him that when 
 once they became subject to superstitious terrors 
 the task of managing them was only to be com- 
 passed by great tact. " Orl right, old boy, but 
 we can't 'ave too much w'en wunst we make a 
 start. An' now wot is it ? " Tooth motioned 
 in reply to the figure which would nqjj stand, 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE OTHER THREE 1 1 3 
 
 stark stiff though ft was, against the wall. " I 
 can't fix 'im," he said. And his frame swayed 
 in his fear. 
 
 They had no cordage nor anything which 
 they could tear up into strips, except the dead 
 men's clothing, so as to tie the corpse into an 
 attitude which would pass the muster, and Bunt 
 would not stand up. 
 
 Jones was in a difficulty. If the positions of 
 the Three did not appear natural, Lieutenant 
 Cooke, looking down the pit to the circle of 
 light which enabled him to count the men at 
 muster, would call them to attention, and order 
 the man whose attitude showed disrespect to 
 correct his posture. He would have to salute in 
 so doing — a regulation rendered it imperative to 
 salute when addressed by a superior — and the 
 fact that sixty feet of sunk shaft intervened 
 between the superior and the prisoner did not 
 alter the effect of the rule.. Thus, unless the men 
 were stationed so that there would be nothing 
 abnormal in their aspect, the suspicion of the 
 powers that were above might be excited, and 
 discovery ensue. 
 
 It was really a question of importance how 
 to induce the reluctant Bunt to put himself in 
 the appri^riate attitude for muster. "Bunt alius 
 
 1 
 
114 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 was ccmtrayry, him ! I'm sure I don't know 
 
 'ow to straighten 'im," Jones complained. " Stay, 
 tho'." A brilliant idea struck him. 
 
 " I 'av' it— 'ere, 'old 'im a second." And as 
 Tooth shiveringly seized the corpse, Jones 
 stepped to the corner of the chamber where 
 they had heaped their waist-chains. A nine- 
 foot chain once linked Phillips to Jones, Bunt 
 to Tooth, West to Hardy. This each couple 
 had fractured among the first preparations for 
 their bolt, and the chains had been thrown 
 loosely together, so that at the nightly muster 
 they might be handy to clank when it was 
 desirable to add another element of deception 
 to the circumstances. 
 
 " We'll jest fix Bunt an' West together, back 
 to back. 'Ardy, jest unprop West ! " 
 
 Hardy obeyed, and lifted the cadaver to the 
 centre of the chamber, as motioned by his 
 leader. "The latter went on, "Now, Toothy, 
 drag yer man 'ere ; yer fellows 'old 'em back to 
 back, and I'll fix 'em wi' the chains ! " And the 
 ingenious scoundrel so adjusted the irons that 
 the rigid figures were linked once more in the 
 metal embrace from which they had freed them- 
 selves in life. Back to back, with the right arm 
 of each holding his. candle, ready foiyignition 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE OTHER THREE I I 5 
 
 when they heard from above the sounds that 
 told of the arrival of muster-hour. A gap of 
 a foot's breadth separated them from Phillips. 
 His bared arm likewise stood out at right 
 angles from the pallid trunk. 
 
 Jones stepped back a pace, and looked at the 
 statuesque figures. "Them'll do — they'll pass 
 muster ! Orl we've got to do is not rub agen 
 'em, or knock 'em down, durin' the few days 
 we shall be here ! We'll hav' ter swing the 
 baskuts clear ! " 
 
 They did pass muster for seven nights. 
 Night after night the three live men gathered 
 round the three dead ones, at the cry from 
 above of " Below there ! " Night after night 
 they heard the verbal tick-off of the Lieutenant- 
 in-Command. Night after night he asked, " Any 
 complaints ? " Night after night either he or 
 Page, the overman, shouted down that " Num- 
 ber Such-an-one is short so many hundred ! 
 You are getting behind, Such-an-one! You'd 
 better look out — Inspection Sunday is getting 
 pretty near!* Night after night this grim farce 
 was played, and on successive mornings (the 
 nightly report being accurate as to numbers) 
 
Il6 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 the full rations for the Six came down. And 
 day by day the store of rations for the bolt 
 
 accumulated. 
 
 * # * * 
 
 Not without interruptions, that excited the 
 alarm of the leader and the fears of the other 
 two, did the week pass, however. 
 
 First, the bodies began to decompose more 
 rapidly than they had feared. The air-current 
 that came down the ventilating shaft was in- 
 sufficient to prevent the vitiation of the atmo- 
 sphere of the galleries — always bad at its best, 
 and Tooth and Hardy had determined to hurry 
 on the moment of their attempt. 
 
 " Wait 'nother night, boys ! " however, urged 
 Jones. " I cal'clate wi' to-mor.rer's rashuns we'll 
 'ave nuff to start." And they yielded the point, 
 as they had yielded others. 
 
 Next (Thursday) morning the smell of the 
 charnel-house ascended to the surface. Page 
 noticed it, and asked " what was up ? " Hardy 
 was slinging a basket; Jones was guiding the 
 rope so that the creel in its swaying should not 
 touch the Three; Tooth, at momentary intervals, 
 was shaking the irons. Had the men been 
 . ironed and engaged at the foot of the shaft in the 
 work of slinging, their shackles and their waist- 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE OTHER THREE I I 7 
 
 chains would, of course, ring. Hardy answered, 
 " What, sir ? " 
 
 "That smell!" 
 
 The basket in Hardy's hand twirled and 
 twisted in his fear. The chains fell from 
 Tooth's grasp, as he cried, " It's all up ! " Jones 
 alone had his wits about him. " Hist ! " he 
 breathed to his companions, and then cried up 
 the shaft, " 'Tis bad water, sir, It'll be over in 
 a hour or so, sir." 
 
 " Oh, that's all ! No danger of flooding ? " 
 
 " None, sir ! We can stand it an' keep it 
 under. Don't want no 'sistance, sir." 
 
 "Am glad of that; short-handed here to-day. 
 Signal if it comes too strong." 
 
 And Page, troubling not to think that never 
 before in his . experience had "the mine- water 
 given off the effluvium of the grave, turned to 
 other business. 
 
 The living but half-poisoned Three gasped 
 relief as the patch of blue sky came into view 
 unobscured by Page's head and shoulders. For 
 the day the danger was passed, but what of the 
 morrow ? 
 
 Jones was determined to stay. He did not 
 tell his mates! so, for they were bent on at- 
 tempting to escape that very night. They 
 
1 1 8 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 would not risk the morrow. Jones was, how- 
 ever, resolved in his own mind to stay till the 
 Saturday night. By regulation the grating was 
 on Sunday not thrown open for an hour and a 
 half after the usual time. He was anxious to 
 achieve the advantage that would be derived 
 from the longer interval. He could breathe the 
 odour and live. Why shouldn't the others? 
 And so — he fell sick. He was very bad. 
 
 That is to say, he "shammed Abraham" most 
 successfully. "If yer want to go, 'Ardy an' 
 Toothy, don't mind me ! " he groaned. But 
 they dared not go without him. He was the 
 ingenious, the resourceful one of all the party, 
 and to leave him behind was to leave their 
 brains. So they said they would wait, and 
 laboured during the days that remained to fill 
 his basket as well as their own — and those of 
 the Liberated Three. It was strenuous their 
 struggle; strenuous to the point of greatness 
 their combat with hunger, with the noxiousness 
 of death, with their own nervelessness, and with 
 their own reeling brains, with the sharp lines of 
 pain over the eyebrows, and with the torrid 
 burning of their eyeballs, and with the convul- 
 sive tortures as their bodily organs refused to 
 perform their offices. It was a miracle that 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE OTHER THREE I 1 9 
 
 they lived. It would have been a mercy had 
 the frenzy created by the physical pangs and 
 mental stress of their sufferings driven Jhcm to 
 treat each other as they had treated the First 
 Three. Still, sustained by the dream of Free- 
 dom, and on the intangible food which Hope 
 tendered them even in the moments of utter 
 misery, the two not only continued to exist, but 
 continued to work. If to do and tp suffer for 
 Freedom's sake are the attributes of greatness, 
 surely in one aspect at least these men were 
 great. On half-rations they existed ; on half- 
 rations they did double work. 
 
 But their leader, Jones, was of a different 
 metal. Winning them over to perfect trustful- 
 ness in himself and in his ingenuity, he spent 
 the day lying in the least foetid gallery scheming 
 and " shamming Abraham," and the nights, such 
 portion of them, at least, as he did not pass in 
 sleep, in the mastication of a portion of the 
 stored-up rations. It had become impossible 
 now to think of weighing the food, even had 
 the others suspected him ; and so, night after 
 night, he made a hearty meal, and kept up his 
 ■ strength-ton something more tangible and sub- 
 stantial than the elixir of Hoper— not that he 
 refused to derive strength from that source also. 
 
120 "TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 During the nights and during the days he 
 laughed at the folly of his companions ! The 
 only fear he had was the dread of discovery 
 
 before lie could make his escape. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 The others had that fear also, but in addi- 
 tion Hardy and Tooth — Hardy's nerve and 
 power of reason had broken down like the other 
 man's — were tormented by superstitious horrors. 
 That very night of the day on which it had 
 appeared imminent Page would discover the 
 murders, Tooth disturbed the galleries with 
 terror-stricken cries. The dead men had come 
 to life, he fancied, and were upon him. Jones 
 soothed him as well as he could, only to hear 
 him an hour or two later praying fervently to 
 God to be forgiven, " an' he would kill no more, 
 an' would confess everythin'." With the morn- 
 ing light, or that faint tinge of it which pene- 
 trated to the vitals of the earth down the shaft, 
 Tooth recollected himself, and he reflected that 
 God was less awful than the System. God, 
 after all, was distant, very distant from the Pit, 
 while the System and the Regime were near, 
 very near! So, in the hours of labour, the 
 terrors disappeared — only to come back with 
 renewed potency in the night-time. Tooth, 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE OTHER THREE I 2 I 
 
 that next night, cried out that now he would 
 bargain with the devil if he would free him from 
 the clutch of Bunt's hands which were round 
 his throat. Then, mingling the present with 
 the past, he wanted to know why Jones had 
 not permitted him to eat the dead as they had 
 done at Macquarie Harbour ! Only an hour 
 before the grating was thrown open in the 
 morning did he fall into a delirious sleep. 
 
 Hardy, the same night, had his delusions 
 also. To him likewise the Three were alive : 
 they were clanking their chains ; they were 
 mounting to the pit mouth to report their own 
 murder, and formally to complain to the Lieu- 
 tenant. Then the phantoms, born of his fear, 
 changed, and he was struggling with West. 
 West had killed him, and was doing what he 
 himself and Jones and Tooth had done to the 
 boy in the Harbour wilderness. West's teeth 
 were sharp, he cried, so sharp ! Once more the 
 weird fancy varied, and he was a boy playing 
 in grassy meadows, racing down the village 
 street, blowing the church organ. Again, he 
 was in the city Town Hall before the magis- 
 trates, who slided, somehow, into the judges of 
 Assize, who were beating him with the white- 
 tipped wands of the under-sheriffs. And yet 
 
122 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 again he was fighting in the waist of the float- 
 ing hell which bears him onwards, onwards over 
 starlit seas and through the furnace fires which 
 afflict the damned to — oh, where was he ? The 
 horrors were grimly vivid, and alternately, when 
 consciousness came to him with the morning 
 light, he blasphemed and he prayed. 
 
 Bunt the dead, Bunt the liberated, had (as 
 already related) owned a watch-nick — a tiny 
 saw filed out of the tempered steel of a watch- 
 spring. As leader of the Other Three, Jones 
 had taken possession of the nick. It was the 
 instrument of their freedom ; and who was 
 better entitled to hold it than the captain of 
 the party? No one! said Jones. The others 
 did not demur, for they trusted Jones. 
 
 On the Friday night, soon after " muster," 
 during which the First Three had behaved 
 themselves "decently an' in order," as Mr. Jones 
 observed with delicious humour, he (Jones), 
 chuckling inwardly and groaning audibly, so 
 that his mates should not fail to understand 
 how painfully he toiled in their service, mounted 
 the gaps in the shaft to a height where he could 
 conveniently attack the grating. Before the 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE OTHER THREE I 23 
 
 liberation of the First Three several wall-planks 
 had been loosened, so that when the time for 
 escape arrived the gaps would serve for foot- 
 hold spaces. The ascent was scaled by the 
 daring Jones, and the topmost of the loosened 
 planks was placed across the angle formed by 
 two walls. From this stage or bridge he could 
 reach the grating. 
 
 For four hours he plied, with a touch as deft 
 and delicate as a lapidary handling a precious 
 stone, the miniature saw. The under surface 
 only dare he manipulate that night. The marks 
 of the tool, potent for liberty though they were, 
 were too faint to be noticed by any unsuspect- 
 ing person. Still, he thought it best to spread 
 a handful of coal dust over the almost imper- 
 ceptible cuts. With one hand gripping the bars, 
 he used the saw with the other. The exertion 
 was not great, but the mental strain, as the saw 
 refused now and then to " bite," and he had to 
 withdraw it to feel, with his tongue, if the serra- 
 tion was still perfect, was terrible. He could 
 not trust the horny surface of his hand to tell 
 if the teeth were still unbroken and unblunted, 
 so he passed the saw across his tongue at in- 
 tervals. At the end of the four hours there was 
 but the slightest dulling to be distinguished. 
 
124 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 He thanked God that the man who had made 
 the saw had been so eminent a workman. 
 
 He descended to assure his comrades that all 
 was well. He had done half the job — had sawn 
 half through all of the bars requisite to be with- 
 drawn to permit egress. 
 
 " Tis orl right, ol' pals ! orl right ! The 
 nick '11 keep good ! " 
 
 " Thank God ! " exclaimed Hardy. 
 
 " That's wot I sez ! " responded the leader. 
 " Amen. Say Amen, Toothy ! " 
 
 "Amen!" cried Tooth. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 On the Saturday, the baskets went up very 
 indifferently laden. 
 
 " It's lucky for you, boys," cried Overman 
 Page, " that to-morrow ain't inspection. Now, 
 if you don't want to be dosed, ye'll ha' to be 
 brisk this next fortnight." 
 
 The remark was received with silent laughter 
 by the Other Three. 
 
 " Lor' ! won't they be savage w'en they finds 
 as 'ow there'll be nobody to flog for a-bein' 
 short. Bet yer a 'arf-rashun to nothink, Toothy, 
 that jest out o' spite they flogs the stiffs ! I 
 say, Phillips, ol' boy, 'ud the cat 'urt yer much 
 now ? Tell us, pal, tell us ! Or, is it that there 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE OTHER THREE 1 2$ 
 
 ain't no cat in 'ell? 'As the System got a 
 monerp'ly in cats ? Tell us, oF chap." 
 
 Thus the pleasant - tempered Jones. But 
 Phillips would not answer. 
 
 They prepared the First Three for their final 
 muster. Which was also to be their own final 
 muster. 
 
 And when the grating was slammed down 
 and the " Good-night " said, they began to pre- 
 pare for their escape. 
 
 " I'm a-goin' up to file t'other part o' the bars, 
 pals. Wile I'm 'way, d'yer get out th' grub an' 
 pack it in th' shirts." 
 
 For use; on Inspection Sundays only, each 
 man had a shirt. These, Jones had designed, 
 should be employed to carry the stock of 
 rations. 
 
 He went up. " Stand from below ! " he cried. 
 When he reached the first loose plank, he threw 
 it down. " No need now,!' he laughed, " to put 
 'em back. Keep from under, pals, in case I 
 might 'urt yer ! " The tender considerateness 
 of his accents ! 
 
 Plank after plank he threw down ; some 
 struck the carrion which had been the First 
 
126 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 Three, others fell clear of the carcases. And as 
 each plank fell he mounted higher. 
 
 For five hours he worked. It was the deep 
 of night when he cut through the last bar. He 
 had sawn through eight. An aperture of two 
 feet in width was left. That was enough for 
 him to get out of, he reflected, and if it was too 
 narrow for the others, perhaps they might not 
 need to use it, after all. As he withdrew the 
 bars, he slid them on top of the grating— save 
 one. Then he returned. 
 
 At the bottom he found his pals waiting for 
 him in gruesome silence. Each was glaring at 
 the other with an unspoken thought in his eye. 
 
 " Wot's up, pals ? W'y ain't the grub packed 
 up ? " 
 
 Hardy spoke. " The meat's bad — tainted, all 
 gone ! " 
 
 Tooth spoke. " 'Tis alon' of them stiffs. 
 
 We're goin' to starve arter all ; we can't bolt on 
 meal an' candles ! " 
 
 Jones did not speak for some time. He was 
 stunned, apparently. Of course it was only 
 apparently ; he had known the fact for days ! 
 
 " That's bad, boys ! I 'spose nothink can be 
 done ? " He crouched into No. 5 gallery, " the 
 Store," as though to taste the meat. 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE OTHER THREE I 27 
 
 Hardy followed him, after a minute's lapse, 
 and, stooping closely over him, whispered, — 
 
 "We'd better do for Tooth, Jones. He's 
 weak — and we'll want all grub for oursel's ! " 
 
 Jones replied in the same tone : "Sh, 'Ardy ! 
 Let's play fair. We've all a-tak'n the Oath ! " 
 
 Then he went into the chamber, telling Hardy 
 to pick out the less corrupt of the meat. 
 
 In the chamber Tooth whispered to him : 
 "Jones," he pleaded, "let's kill Hardy! You 
 an' me'll go, Jones ! We'll 'ave 'nough then ! " 
 
 " Oh, be fair, Toothy, sonny ! 'Member we've 
 taken the Oath. Let's play fair ! " 
 
 The loyalest of creatures, Jones ! 
 
 " Who's to go first ? " queried the general — 
 never a greater general than when he put the 
 question ! 
 
 " W'y you, o' course, Jones ; you've done all 
 th' work," Tooth replied. Hardy did not dis- 
 sent. 
 
 "As yer please, boys. Then, which'll go 
 next ? Yer'd better draw the straw." 
 
 He pulled from -a slab two splinters of un- 
 equal length, and held out their ends to his 
 companions. 
 
I2o TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 " Draw together ; shortest goes nex' ter me." 
 It was Hardy's fate! Had he drawn the 
 other, he'd have died with one murder the less 
 
 to his account. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 With a bag of provisions round each of their 
 necks, they began the ascent. They had 
 propped the First Three up again, and used 
 them, in all their noxious corruption, as aids in 
 their exodus. " We've helped 'em to Freedom," 
 commented Jones, "'tis only right they should 
 give us a leg up." 
 
 Half-way up Jones stopped. " Plenty o' time, 
 boys. Np hurry. An' yer'd better 'and me yer 
 bag, 'Ardy ; I'm stronger'n you. 'Old tight ter 
 me w'iles yer looses it." Hardy — fool ! — obeyed. 
 
 Ten feet higher Jones paused again. 
 
 " Toothy, 'and yer bag to 'Ardy. W'iles yer 
 does it, I'll climb an' jestjput my grub outside ; 
 I'll be freer to 'elp yer." 
 
 They trusted him still, and while he clam- 
 bered up, Tooth passed his bag to Hardy. 
 Jones went back to where he had left them-. 
 
 " Steady, lads, for the last tussle !- Don't lose 
 'art now, pals ! an' keep a clear 'ead." 
 
 They had left one solitary dip to light them 
 in their ascent. It was the merest flicker that 
 
THE LIBERATION OF THE OTHER THREE I 29 
 
 reached them at this forty-feet stage ; it showed 
 them each other's outlines, that was all. Had 
 the flame been brighter, perhaps Hardy would 
 have seen Jones' face, and Tooth, Hardy's, and 
 each had then been warned. 
 
 A few feet higher, and Jones, holding tightly 
 to a plank-rim by one hand, lowered his head 
 till he reached Hardy's. 
 
 " Now, 'Ardy, stash 'im with yer foot ! we 
 want orl th' grub for oursel's ! " 
 
 The devilish hint spoke Hardy's own mind. 
 He thrust one of his feet downwards, and with 
 a horrid yell Tooth was — liberated. The light 
 
 went out. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 " Well done, 'Ardy ! An' now it's me an' 
 you." 
 
 The accent of approbation changed in its 
 breathing into one of menace. And with the 
 change fell, on Hardy's head, a blow with a cut 
 bar. At least, it had been intended for his 
 head, but, through the going out of the light, 
 the blow was misdirected, and slipped on his 
 shoulder. 
 
 Hardy shrieked, " God ! That's your playin' 
 fair, is it ! But if I go, ye'll go too." 
 
 He sprang upwards — the instinct of ven- 
 
 K 
 
13O TALKS OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 geance guided him aright in the darkness — and 
 he clutched the waistband of Jones' trousers. 
 
 One awful struggle in mid-air, and 
 
 The rest of the Other Three were liberated. 
 
A DAY WITH 
 GOVERNOR ARTHUR* 
 
 /^OLONEL GEORGE ARTHUR is sitting 
 ^-^ in an arm-chair in his study. The deep 
 whirr of a clock (by Dent, London : you can 
 see it, if not hear it, to-day in a Hobart public 
 
 * This narrative is mainly founded upon conversations 
 with a prominent official — he died only the other day — 
 who was for some years immediately associated with 
 Colonel Arthur. Documentary evidence is, in addition, 
 extant for nearly every statement made in the course of 
 the tale, and the words put into the mouth of the charac- 
 ters are mere paraphrases of utterances of their originals. 
 The "police reports'' and convict "records" quoted are 
 authentic in every particular ; " Longden's " letter is that 
 of a veritable convict. In the wording of the Execu- 
 tioner's Oath, the author has followed his informant 
 instead of transcribing another form which he has in his 
 possession, which, however, does not differ very materi- 
 ally from the former. "The Sheriffs bidding," which 
 concludes the administration of the oath, was uttered, it 
 is asserted, on as recent an occasion in England as the 
 appointment of that late honoured servant of the State, 
 Calcraft. 
 
132 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 office) as it strikes the hour of ten is audible. 
 He is always punctual is Governor Arthur, 
 Lieutenant-Governor of Vandemonia — always 
 has been — always will be. There are some 
 men whose past unerringly foretells their future. 
 Arthur is one 'of these' men. When, as repre- 
 sentative of British Majesty, he flogged a woman 
 in his West Indian principality, he concluded 
 his order for the punishment with the word 
 •' punctually." When he signs a death-warrant 
 now, he hands it to the Clerk of Council with 
 the remark, " Let the warrant be obeyed punc- 
 tually." When his doctor tells him in the 
 course of a few years that Death will wait 
 upon him after the expiration of an hour, you 
 may depend upon it Sir George, as he will be 
 then, will simply request the medical man to 
 present his compliments to the gentleman with 
 the scythe, and desire him to be punctual. And 
 as he is in precept so he is in practice. 
 
 At the first stroke of ten, then, His Excel- 
 lency sits him down, and begins the day's 
 routine. It is an "off-day" — that is to say, His 
 Excellency does not this morning propose to do 
 his Executive Councillors the pleasure of going 
 through the form of conferring with them upon 
 points as to which he has already made up his 
 
A DAY WITH GOVERNOR ARTHUR 1 33 
 
 mind. Consequently, there being no Executive 
 Council to bother him, he proceeds to act as the 
 Executive. 
 
 We are going to spend the day with him. It 
 is very rude of us, no doubt, as we have not 
 been invited. And particularly rude, inasmuch 
 as we know that on the rare occasions that the 
 Governor departs from his repose of manner it 
 is to consign all scribblers to the nethermost 
 abode of lost souls. Frank Goddard, convict, 
 otherwise " Frank the Poet," peopled hell with 
 penal officials. Governor Arthur peopled his 
 
 hell with journalists. 
 
 * * * # 
 
 It is a spare-framed, thin-faced, medium-sized 
 man who sits in the Governor's chair ; clean- 
 shaven, save for a tinge of greyish whisker ; 
 with steely-grey eyes that look with a critical 
 disbelief in everything except the System ; with 
 a rasp in the voice. The lines at the corners 
 of the drawn-down lips spell " Martinet " ; the 
 wrinkles of the brow and the crevices between 
 the eyebrows tell that he is a precisian. At 
 this present moment he is supreme over the 
 destinies* of 32,000 human beings, and he looks 
 capable of dealing justly with 32,000 blocks of 
 pine or gum-wood. That, possibly, is why he. is 
 
134 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 Lieutenant-Governor of His Britannic Majesty's 
 colony and dependency of Van Dieman's Land. 
 A man with a heart would have been out of 
 place in that chair. 
 
 He touches a bell — twice. Mr. J. Fubster, 
 Comptroller-General of Convicts, enters, bows 
 deferentially, and is motioned to a chair. 
 
 " Good-morning, Mr. Comptroller ! " 
 
 A soft " Good-morning, your Excellency," is 
 breathed by Fubster. He is at liberty to begin 
 now with business — and to seat himself. 
 
 " This day's business, your Excellency, is 
 applications for Tickets for November last." 
 
 " Proceed, Mr. Comptroller ! " 
 
 Standing up and clearing his throat, -the 
 Comptroller began ; " Memorial No. 666, Police 
 No. 699, James Melrose, per Malabar, Middle- 
 sex Sessions, 30th June, 182-, life ; Hobart 
 Town, 5th August, 182-, seven years, same 
 date, seven years ; total term of transportation, 
 life and fourteen years. Employed by Mrs. C. 
 Wade, and recommended for ticket by her. 
 Transported for burglary. His gaol report : 
 ' In Newgate before,' and his hulk report was 
 * orderly.' He stated this offence, breaking into 
 
A DAY WITH GOVERNOR ARTHUR 1 35 
 
 a house. Colonial convictions are as follows : — 
 August s, 182-, by Supreme Court, stealing 
 a pair of boots; plea, guilty; sentence, seven 
 years' transportation to Macquarie Harbour. 
 Same date and court, stealing soap ; plea, 
 guilty ; sentence, seven years' transportation to 
 Macquarie Harbour. March 27, 1827, exchang- 
 ing his hat with prisoner who was about to 
 abscond, 50 lashes. June 27, 182-, destroying 
 his shirt, 25 lashes. October 28, 182-, not ac- 
 complishing his weekly task of work, 1 8 lashes. 
 February 14, 1832, ordered 50 lashes by em- 
 ployer for disrespectful conduct and insolence 
 to Miss Ann Wade, 50 lashes, and returned 
 to service. November 20, 1832, drunk, ad- 
 monished." 
 
 " Who signs ? " 
 
 "Mr. Muster-Master Mason, your Excel- 
 lency." 
 
 " What do you recommend ? " 
 
 " I cannot recommend, sir." 
 
 " Quite right, Mr. Comptroller. There seems 
 a hiatus in his record between 182- and 1832. 
 There must be some mistake there. It is im- 
 possible that a man of this desperate character 
 should have committed no offences for several 
 years ! " 
 
136 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 " That's what / think, your Excellency." 
 
 " Reprimand the record clerk " 
 
 " The record clerk is a transport, sir." 
 " A transport ! And to make such a serious 
 omission ! It must be intentional, Mr. Comp- 
 troller. Have him punished, sir — send him to 
 the chain-gang." 
 
 "May I suggest, sir, that I should merely 
 dock his allowances and severely caution him ? 
 He's a very useful writer, sir, on the whole." 
 
 "Oh, in that case, Mr. Comptroller, punish 
 him as you suggest. And note, please, that 
 this ticket is refused." 
 
 And so was Mr. James Melrose's chance of 
 obtaining temporary freedom put back for at 
 least six, and probably twelve months. On the 
 hypothesis, as likely as not entirely erroneous, 
 that the record clerk had made a serious mis- 
 take in transcribing, from the registers, on No. 
 699's report parchment the debits against his 
 name, that perverse son of the System was 
 doomed to a continued period of slavery. 
 What to precisian Colonel Arthur, and what 
 to disciplinarian Fubster, was it that the trans- 
 port might be rendered desperate by the non- 
 success of his mighty effort to win a "ticket" 
 by good conduct ? To the Men of the Regime 
 
A DAY WITH GOVERNOR ARTHUR 1 37 
 
 it should have been easy enough to have read 
 between the lines of the record. A man natur- 
 ally of weak disposition, made worse by un- 
 speakable surroundings and petty tyrannies — 
 with impulses towards good even at Macquarie 
 Harbour (witness that exchange of hats) — then 
 coming under a master or mistress of more than 
 average kindness of heart, whom he would, in . 
 the intervals of good conduct, brave by an occa- 
 sional act of insolence or insubordination — that 
 was this character obviously to men who under- 
 stood the System. 
 
 Now, Colonel Arthur and Factotum Fubster 
 professed to know the System. They knew, 
 however, but the one side of it. The gap in 
 No. 699's record was to them nothing but a con- 
 vict-writer's error. That it could be accounted 
 for by Melrose's abstinence from ill-doing— 
 pooh ! impossible ! And so No. 699 was " put 
 
 back." 
 
 * * * * 
 
 "Next!" 
 
 " Memorial No. 66/. Cole, Richard, Lancas- 
 ter Assizes, 22nd April, 182- life. Application 
 recommended by Mr. J. England, J. A. Jackson, 
 Esq., J. Simpson, Esq., and Mr. R. Court. Now 
 employed in Freed Police, Campbell Town. 
 
138 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 Transported for stealing from the person ; gaol 
 report, ' twice convicted before ' ; hulk report, 
 ' good.' Stated this offence, pocket-picking ; 
 denies having been convicted before. Colonial 
 convictions: November 2, 182-, Supreme Court, 
 aiding and abetting^: assault on a woman, not 
 guilty. January 11, 1 82-, ^ Magistrate Fisher, 
 neglect of duty for the last three days, 50 
 lashes, and 3rd class. February 8, 182-, ab- 
 sent from his gang, between 10 and 1 1 "o'clock 
 this day, 25 lashes. April 23, 182-, disobedi- 
 ence of orders and other improper conduct, 25 
 lashes. February 3, 182-, W. Abel, magistrate, 
 assault, 25 lashes. March 10, 182-, same magis- 
 trate, threatening and abuse, six months' chain- 
 gang and return to his master. June 18, 182-, 
 chain-gang overseer, for being in state of intoxi- 
 cation at muster, sentenced him to 21 days' 
 additional chain-gang. March n, 182-, Abel, 
 magistrate, neglect of duty, one month of irons 
 at New Norfolk. March 31, 183-, in Public 
 Works Gang, very riotous conduct, and assault- 
 ing watchman ; transported to penal settlement 
 for two years. June 16, 182-, by penitentiary 
 superintendent, for reporting himself as sick, 
 and not having anything the matter with him ; 
 reprimanded. December 26, 183- by superior 
 
A DAY WITH GOVERNOR ARTHUR 1 39 
 officer of Field Police, neglect of duty ; fined 
 
 IOJ." 
 
 "Who signs?" 
 
 " Muster-Master Mason." 
 
 " And your recommendation is ? " 
 
 " I regret, your Excellency, that this man has 
 been allowed to join the police. The circum- 
 stances attending the assault on the woman for 
 which he was tried are still strong in my recol- 
 lection, as it occurred in my own neighbour- 
 hood." 
 
 "But he was found not guilty, did you not 
 say ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, but " 
 
 " Then, why say anything about the offence ? " 
 demanded the just Governor. He was always 
 just was Arthur ! A desire to be just was his 
 strong point; he used to say. 
 
 "Apart from that altogether though, Mr. 
 Comptroller," the Governor went on, as Fubster 
 remained silent, " the applicant must be refused. 
 The man seems a most improper subject for the 
 police ; but, being in it, the opportunity may 
 be afforded him to prove that he is a reformed 
 character." 
 
 " Yes, your Excellency. Shall I minute that 
 observation ? " 
 
140 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 * Certainly. Now the next" 
 
 And, delaying just a minute to record the 
 fact that Richard Cole, No. 473, per ElpJiinstone, 
 would be allowed to derive further advantage 
 from the moral associations of the Freed Police, 
 the Comptroller-General passed to another of 
 the current applications for tickets. 
 
 ' Memorial Xo. 668, Police No. 1,701, Henfrey, 
 Simon, tried at Nottingham, March, 182-, life. 
 Recommended by Messrs. Hill, Gunning, and 
 Butcher. Employed by Messrs, Bignell and 
 HilL Transported for sheep-stealing. Gaol re- 
 port, ' not known before ; good in gaol.' Hulk's 
 report, 'orderly.' Stated his offence, sheep- 
 stealing. Hath no colonial offence recorded. 
 Mason signs." ■*• 
 
 "Xo offence?" queried His Excellency. 
 " Shall we give him a ticket ? " 
 
 "Well, sir, I think not He has not served 
 the regulated period," rejoined the Comptroller- 
 General." 
 
 " Refused, then ! " said the Governor. And 
 No. 1,701 was "put back " also. 
 
 " Memorial No. 669, Police Xo. 2,693. Porter, 
 John. Tried at Stafford, 17th October, 1S2-. 
 Seven years. Recommended by J. T. Gelli- 
 brand, Esq, who employs him. Transported 
 
A DAY WITH GOVERNOR ARTHUR 141 
 
 for stealing from the person. Gaol report : ' An 
 incorrigible youth ; has been many times in 
 prison, and connected with Wolverhampton 
 thieves. Orderly in gaol.' Stated his offence, 
 ' Stealing five shillings from a young woman ; 
 twice for leaving my master.' Hath no co- 
 lonial offences on record. The Muster- Master 
 signs." 
 
 " What do you say, Mr. Comptroller ? " 
 
 " This, your Excellency, is another case where 
 applicant has not served the regulated period." 
 
 " The transport is incorrigible, eh ? Still, we 
 must encourage him to hope, conditional on 
 improvement. Refused at present, but as he 
 brought so bad a character, it is gratifying to 
 perceive that his conduct has been uniformly 
 correct Grant him a ticket on the King's 
 birthday. We must never shut out hope alto- 
 gether from the convicts, Mr. Comptroller. 
 That has always been my policy, as you know. 
 And I am stating it at great length to Lord 
 Goderich by the outgoing mail. Are there 
 many more applications?" 
 
 " Some fifty, your Excellency. The next has 
 some peculiar circumstances connected with 
 it, sir. The applicant, of fair conduct enough, 
 obtained his master's frank to the cover of the 
 
142 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 application, which was directed, of course, to 
 the Muster-Master, and then pasted a slip over 
 the address. Upon the slip there was a British 
 address, and inside the form he enclosed a letter 
 for an English friend ! " 
 
 "The rascal!" exclaimed His Excellency. 
 " And how was the fraud detected ? " 
 
 "Well, sir, the ignorant fellow thought his 
 master's signature would frank the letter out of 
 the colony, as well as within it! That not 
 being the case, the Post Office stopped the 
 letter, sent it back to Captain Hepburn, the 
 transport's master, and, of course, the thing 
 was discovered." 
 
 " Then how does the application come before 
 me ? An application from such a man — why, 
 'tis scandalous ! " 
 
 " So I remarked, your Excellency, but Cap- 
 tain Hepburn said he was prepared to overlook 
 the wrong because of the man's ingenuity and 
 the good tone of his letter. I have the letter 
 here. Shall I read it, sir ? " 
 
 His Excellency assented, and Mr. Fubster 
 read this : — 
 
A DAY WITH GOVERNOR ARTHUR 1 43 
 
 St. Pauls Plains, Van Demans Land, 
 
 May 6th. 
 Dear George. — This is now the first time that I have 
 had the opportunity of writing to you since my arrival in 
 this Forighn Land you desired me to write and Let you 
 Know how I am doing. I must first tell you of my 
 voyage across. There was Three Hundred of us poor 
 fellows confined in one Deck 6 in a bed with very little 
 to eat or Drink but I had better luck than the rest for I 
 had a situation on board to serve out stores to the men 
 so I Got on very well we had a very Good voyage of four 
 Months we were all sent to a place called a tench and 
 there we were signed off to Defferent masters I am cook 
 at Mr. Hebron Esq Dear George you cannot forme any 
 Idea of the Troble I have been I had to wear Heavy 
 Irons on my Legs for 3 months because I should not run 
 away this is an aweful country for you dont Know when 
 you are safe for there are men prowling about who stile 
 themselves Bushrangers who when they are Hungry 
 come to our Huts and tye our Hands and then proseed 
 to rob and plunder the House and if we offer any resist- 
 ance they will Shoot you dead on the spot they rob the 
 House and then make one of us carry the spoil into the 
 bush, there was three at large last week who have been 
 doing Horrible deeds among which they went into a 
 publick House in the interior of this County not far from 
 where there. Dear Friend I have that Bible still which 
 your beloved parrent gave me and every time I look at 
 it my heart Bleads to think how hap'py and comfortable 
 I was then. Remember me to your kind and affectionate 
 Wife & Family & Mrs Barton, and Tom tell him from 
 me to be steady and industrous and not to be led away 
 by the girls as they will shure to bring him ruin. Give 
 my love to all the family ann I hope and trust they will 
 
144 TALIS OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 forgive me for my ingratitude to them after the Kindness 
 they had shone to me Dear George would yon be so 
 Kind as to go to Mr Greenwood for me and remember 
 me Kindly to Him & Family and tell him were I am as 
 he promised to do a little for me ask him to ask my uncle 
 to send me an accordian as I think It might be of service 
 to me here as there is none in the county, I have seen. 
 Remember me to all my Friends that inquier after me 
 Dear Geoige write to me as soon as you can as I long 
 to here from you how things are going on at home. I 
 hope you will pardon me for Troubleing you with a letter 
 But I Know yoi to be a Friend that I can Trust When 
 you write to me Direct to Capt. Hepburn Esq. Rays Hill 
 St Pauls Plains Van Demans Land 
 1 have nothing more to say at Present May God 
 Prosper vera and your Family Adieu 
 
 D. G. be share and wite A. S. LOXGDEX. 
 
 X. B. The master I am With is Capt. Hepburn, Esq. 
 J.P. Brother-in-Law to Thos. Hosie Esq. Manager a: 
 Millers Wharf. London. 
 
 " Well ! " exclaimed Arthur as Fubster can- 
 eluded the reading. " And in face of that letter, 
 the man's master recommends him for a ticket ! 
 Remove the employer from the list of eligibles, 
 and send the man to the chain-gang" 
 
 " Yes, your Excellency, but — ah, may I sug- 
 gest, sir, that the Captain has great — er — home 
 influence ? " 
 
 "H'm, ah! Perhaps the case, then, as regards 
 the master will be met by a respectful letter 
 
A DAY WITH GOVERNOR ARTHUR 1 45 
 
 pointing out that discipline will be subverted if 
 he displays the like tolerance in the future. 
 Why, he actually compounds a felony — obtain- 
 ing a postal frank by false pretences is a felony, 
 is it not ? " 
 
 The Comptroller hesitates in his reply, and 
 then begs to suggest that as the law is not 
 quite explicit on the point, the question should 
 be referred to the Crown-Solicitor. "Tis an 
 unusual offence, your Excellency — can scarcely 
 have been anticipated by the Honourable the 
 Council." 
 
 "Nevertheless, Mr. Comptroller, once done 
 the deed will be repeated. Mr. Solicitor shall 
 prepare a draft-clause making the offence 
 felony." 
 
 "And the man, sir — the transport Longden ?" 
 
 " I leave him to your jurisdiction, Comp- 
 troller. But, of course, ticket refused, and, I 
 should think, the chain-gang." 
 
 And at a later period of the day Transport 
 Longden is awarded, in his absence, twelve 
 months' gang "for abusing his master's con- 
 fidence." 
 
 )fc * * * 
 
 The ingenious Longden having been thus 
 helped forward to the next stage to perdition, 
 
 L 
 
I46 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 Comptroller-General Fubster passed to other 
 applications. 
 
 " A woman, your Excellency. Memorial No. 
 690. Ship No. 10S, per Fairlie, Louisa Newnes ; 
 place of trial not known and transport refuses 
 to state, but sentence, she says, 14 years " 
 
 "Make a note, Mr. Comptroller, to ascertain 
 how it is that the ship's indent was so imperfect. 
 I must draw the Colonial Secretary's attention 
 to the circumstance, and cause the Indent-clerk 
 to be punished. What was the ship's captain 
 about, to start with imperfect papers ? " 
 
 " The ship started with papers complete, sir, 
 but a male transport — the Fairlie was a double- 
 classer,* sir — acting as surgeon's clerk, dropped 
 all the papers overboard, with a 16-lb. shot at- 
 tached." 
 
 " Mr. Comptroller ! how is it I never heard 
 of this before ? " In his wrath, the Governor 
 rose from his chair. " And why was not the 
 Surgeon-Superintendent punished for employ- 
 ing a convict-writer contrary to Regulation in 
 that case made and provided ? " 
 
 " 'Twas in Governor Sorell's time, sir ! And 
 he thought the least said soonest mended, par- 
 
 * "Double-classer" : A ship conveying both male and 
 female transports. 
 
A DAY WITH GOVERNOR ARTHUR 1 47 
 
 ticularly as the writer was, sir — dead, sir, when 
 the ship arrived ! " 
 
 " Dead ? Oh, was that the yard-arm case ? " 
 
 " Yes, your Excellency ! " 
 
 "Ah, I recollect now. And was nothing 
 done to the Surgeon ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, sir. We were short of doctors at 
 the time, and so he was put on the permanent 
 staff. It was Dr. Burleigh, sir ! " 
 
 "Burleigh, was it? A good officer and a 
 careful one now, whatever he may have been 
 in the past. But proceed, Mr. Comptroller." 
 
 " She is recommended by Mr. J. Hutchinson 
 and A. Turnbull, Esq. She says her gaol 
 report was bad, and that she was capitally con- 
 victed at Newgate, receiving sentence of death; 
 but commuted to two years in the penitentiary 
 and fourteen beyond seas. States offence as 
 stealing silver teapot. Colonial report : Theft, 
 committed for trial." 
 
 " You recommend ? " 
 
 "Yes, your Excellency. The female is at 
 present in the House of Correction under 
 sentence. But the Surgeon wishes her to take 
 the situation of nurse at the hospital, as she 
 is skilful and kind-hearted." 
 
 " Under what sentence, did you say ? " 
 
148 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 The Comptroller re-scans the parchment and 
 the application-form, but the information is not 
 given in either document 
 
 " Unstated, sir, I'm sorry to say ! " 
 
 " Unstated, Mr. Comptroller ! Is this a way 
 to prepare a report for me ? Her record says, 
 ' Committed for trial/ How was she then dis- 
 posed of?" 
 
 " She must have been sentenced, sir ! " The 
 Comptroller sees he is "in for it," and not 
 enjoying the Colonel in one of his black moods, 
 mentally resolves to make somebody suffer. 
 "And the convict-writer must have omitted to 
 enter the conviction." 
 
 "See that he's punished, Mr. Comptroller. 
 And reprimand the Free Clerk in charge of the 
 office ! " 
 
 "Yes, your Excellency. We must make an 
 example! So much depends on the records 
 being accurately kept What are your orders 
 as to this woman, sir ? The doctor wishes her 
 services particularly." 
 
 " No, in this case I must refuse ! Appoint- 
 ment to a nursing post would be an indulgence 
 the woman does not merit. She herself says 
 her home record was bad, and most likely her 
 transportation-sentence was life, and that she 
 
A BAY WITH GOVERNOR ARTHUR I 49 
 
 is lying when she says it was for fourteen years 
 only. No indulgence ! " 
 
 Thus it was nearly always. A transport's 
 statement against himself or herself was almost 
 invariably accepted by the Authorities, but he 
 or she was never believed when there was a 
 possibility of the statement being in the trans- 
 port's own favour. 
 
 Thus, too, was it generally in the matter of 
 negligently-written-up records. It was a con- 
 vict-writer who was punished ; it was the Free 
 Clerk, or the other official, who was really the 
 offending person, who got off scot-free. Which 
 was just ; for a convict-writer was by virtue 
 of the fact liable to punishment. The Regime 
 did not recognise convict-writers, and, indeed, 
 distinctly prohibited their employment ; and, 
 therefore, if they consented to be employed, 
 they disobeyed "the Regulation in that case 
 made and provided." The circumstance that 
 they dare not refuse to be employed when so 
 directed by an authority — say, the Governor or 
 the Comptroller-General — went, of course, for 
 nothing. If there was one thing more than 
 another < the System was partial to, it was the 
 construction of dilemmas ; and though the 
 transport might object to being impaled on 
 
I50 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 one horn, there was always the other at his 
 convenience. 
 
 While we have been making this digression, 
 Colonel Arthur has been refusing more and 
 more applications, occasionally, it must be said, 
 varying the process by an approval. One 
 " Approved " to ten " Refused," that was about 
 the average. 
 
 The list ended, the Governor condescended 
 to consult the inferior (though still potent) 
 official as to the terms of a despatch he was 
 drafting to Viscount Goderich, Secretary of 
 State for the Colonies. 
 
 " I chiefly desire, Mr. Comptroller, your 
 opinion on this portion. It is with reference 
 to the special and educated convicts, and their 
 proposed treatment at Port Arthur. I am loth 
 to abandon Macquarie Harbour as a Penal 
 Settlement — we have derived great advantage 
 from it — but the filling up of the bar is rendering 
 navigation dangerous. So I have made up my 
 mind to direct the abandonment of the Harbour, 
 and to devote my attention to all the measures 
 best calculated to render Tasman's Peninsula, 
 which really seems to have been designed by 
 
A DAY WITH GOVERNOR ARTHUR 15 1 
 
 Providence for a penitentiary, a perfect insti- 
 tution. Do you follow me, Mr. Comptrol- 
 ler?" 
 
 "Oh, most readily, sir. And if I may be 
 permitted to say so, if any one can devise a 
 perfect penal establishment I am sure 'tis your 
 Excellency ! " 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Comptroller, I do not doubt my 
 success, if I can depend upon the willing co- 
 operation of able and experienced officers like 
 yourself ! " 
 
 "That, your Excellency, I need scarcely 
 trouble to assure you of. The Staff are only 
 too proud to have the opportunity of working 
 under so brilliant and — er — h'm — philanthropic 
 an administrator! You were saying about the 
 specials, sir ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes," and the pleased Governor, who, 
 with all his strength of character, was never 
 to be offended by the most fulsome of com- 
 pliments, especially when they alluded to his 
 philanthropy, went on to read what he had 
 written. 
 
 "This is what I say to his Lordship in recom- 
 mending the despatch to Port Arthur of this 
 special class. ' The educated class are at pre- 
 sent the link by which the free and the bond 
 
152 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 are so amalgamated as to make the distinction 
 betwixt slavery and freedom less marked than 
 it ought to be. It is desirable there should be 
 no such mingling — a man should be either free 
 or bond, and be treated as such.' " 
 
 " Very good, if I may say so, your Excellency. 
 Most admirably put." 
 
 The Governor continued : " ' I have long dis- 
 approved of the employment of convict clerks 
 under any circumstances, and have taken every 
 prudent means of limiting their numbers, for I 
 am convinced that convict discipline cannot be 
 considered perfect until every special is treated 
 as an ordinary convict' " 
 
 " That's true, your Excellency." 
 
 " ' For if one receive indulgence irregularly, or 
 be placed in any easy situation, enabling him to 
 assume a respectable appearance, the System 
 is broken in upon, and a single representation 
 to his .friends in England will be sufficient to 
 deprive transportation of much of its terrors. 
 Criminals do not, when writing to their friends, 
 dwell upon the hardships they suffer, but rather 
 delight in holding up the bright side of the 
 picture.' " 
 
 " Quite accurate, your Excellency, quite ! " 
 Yet Longden's letter was before them ! 
 
A DAY WITrf' GOVERNOR ARTHUR 1 53 
 
 : " ' As it appears specials dread transportation 
 leis than any other class, I have made arrange- 
 ments for their deportation, upon arrival here, 
 to Tasman's Peninsula, should such be the plea- 
 sure of His Majesty's Government, where they 
 will be deprived even of the hope of eluding 
 by artifice the miseries they have drawn upon 
 themselves.' There, how will that do, Mr. 
 Comptroller ? " 
 
 " It must carry conviction to the Imperial 
 Government, your Excellency, of the wisdom of 
 your proposed step." 
 
 " Yes, I think it will. And the Right Honour- 
 able the Secretary of State will not fail to appre- 
 ciate an argument I propose to communicate 
 unofficially, that the presence in the streets of 
 this city of special convicts, who, for the most 
 part, come from the upper order of society, is a 
 direct inducement to the circulation of, those 
 revolutionary ideas which are so subversive of 
 Law, Order and Society. How can the lower 
 classes retain respect for the upper orders if 
 members of the latter are seen, walking public 
 streets under the convict ban ? " 
 
 " Very true, your Excellency, very true ! " 
 
 " Then you agree, Mr. Comptroller, generally 
 with my views ? " 
 
154 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 " Oh, yes ! your Excellency, I can suggest no 
 improvement." 
 
 " Then send the clerk who is your best pen- 
 man to me in the morning. It is a most im- 
 portant despatch, as it quite alters our System, 
 and I must have a clear copy for Downing 
 Street made with the utmost care." 
 
 " Shall the clerk be « free ' or ' bond,' sir ? " 
 
 "Oh, your best." 
 
 "Then the ablest man I have, your Excel- 
 lency, is Convict -writer Dallas." 
 
 " Well, let him be here at ten punctually to- 
 morrow. And now," rising as he spoke, " this 
 completes your business with me for the day ? " 
 
 "Yesj^ir, with the exception of one little 
 matter— the executioner's oath." 
 
 " Ah ! I was forgetting ! Is the man in atten- 
 dance ? If so, produce him." 
 
 Convict Richard Johnson, successor to Dough- 
 erty in the onerous and well-paid post of hang- 
 man to His Majesty's Government in Vande- 
 monia, had shown a tendency of late to partiality 
 in the performance of his duties. After the 
 last but two "dropping off," it was rumoured 
 that one of the criminals who had, it was sup- 
 
A DAY WITH GOVERNOR ARTHUR 155 
 
 posed, been hurried into the next world had 
 been resuscitated within the time prescribed for 
 the suspension of the body. The rumour as 
 to this occurrence had not reached the ears 
 of the Authorities for three or four weeks after 
 the ceremony ; and owing to the lapse of that 
 time, and to the admixture of quicklime with 
 the bodies which participated in the rites, it had 
 been deemed inexpedient to attempt exhuma- 
 tion. The Authorities, though content to let 
 the matter — and the bodies — rest, thought it, 
 however, advisable to prevent a further instance 
 of the like partiality, and concluded that there 
 was no better way of securing their end than 
 by imposing what had for some years dropped 
 into disuse — the executioner's oath. 
 
 Mr. Johnson, being so important a functionary, 
 and the occasion being so novel, it was thought 
 well to impress him by administering the oath 
 in the overawing presence of the Governor him- 
 self. The formula was to be the ancient Eng- 
 lish one, and the incidents of the scene were 
 framed after the same pattern. Only, instead 
 of the Testament being tendered to the Execu- 
 tioner by the Sheriff, as was the old English 
 practice, the Comptroller-General, being the 
 convict's nominal master and the man to whom 
 
156 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 Johnson was in the last resort responsible, was 
 to administer the oath. 
 
 Johnson was ushered in. He brought with 
 him, pursuant to instructions, a bag. 
 
 He saluted, and in obedience to a motion of 
 Mr. Fubster's hand, arranged the contents of the 
 bag on a table. Two pairs of handcuffs, a set 
 of double leg-irons with bazils and centre-link 
 complete, and a new fifteen-foot rope, gathered 
 in a coil. A white cap and a black cap com- 
 pleted the number of the dread insignia. 
 
 "You are Richard Johnson, per ship 
 Mangles ? " demanded the Comptroller. 
 
 The executioner pulled his forelock. 
 
 " You are the public executioner of His 
 Majesty's Colony and Dependency of Van 
 Dieman's Land ? " 
 
 Johnson scraped his right foot and bent his 
 head. 
 
 " Hitherto you have been unsworn, but it has 
 been thought necessary by his Excellency the 
 Governor that you should take an oath for the 
 faithful, exact, true and impartial performance 
 of your duties. Are you willing to take that 
 obligation ? " 
 
 "Yes, y'r Honour ! " 
 
 The Comptroller-General lifted a Testament 
 
A DAY WITH GOVERNOR ARTHUR 1 57 
 
 — there were always copies available in every 
 public office ; oaths were taken at every hour 
 of the day — and, opening the book at one of 
 the Gospels, bade Johnson place his left hand 
 on the rope, and take the book in his right. 
 
 " Now, Johnson, follow me ! " As the Comp- 
 troller read these words from a slip of blue 
 paper, Johnson recited them after him : — 
 
 " I, Richard Johnson, Transport, acting under 
 a ticket-of-leave as present executioner, do will- 
 ingly undertake to well, faithfully, exactly and 
 truly perform the duties appertaining to the 
 office of the Common Executioner of His 
 Majesty's Colony of Van Dieman's Land, and 
 do now vow and make oath that I will carry 
 out and fulfil such duties as the Law may direct 
 upon the bodies and persons of every felon 
 committed to my charge without fear or favour, 
 though the body and person be that of friend 
 or kin, my father or my mother, my sister or 
 my brother, my wife or my child, or other bone 
 of my bone, or of other flesh of my flesh, So 
 help me, God ! " 
 
 Then he kissed the book. 
 
 The* Comptroller turned to His Excellency. 
 " Must the — ah — old command be given, your 
 Excellency ? " 
 
I58 -TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 The Governor motioning assent, the Comp- 
 troller, raising his right hand, and speaking with 
 as much harshness as he could throw into his 
 voice, cried, — 
 
 " Get thee hence, wretch ! " 
 
THE HENRY 
 PORCHER BOLTER 
 
 WITHIN a stone's throw of the house 
 in Church Street, Richmond, Victoria, 
 wherein Peter Lalor died, is a cottage which 
 is as ancient a building as you will find in the 
 suburbs of young Melbourne. Dilapidated in- 
 side, weather-stained as to exterior, for years 
 it has been without tenants for longer periods 
 than it has enjoyed them. It would have had 
 fewer still had its landlord's agent informed 
 intending lessees of the eerie legend of the 
 place. 
 
 For here it was that one of the "bolters," 
 advertised by Mr. F. A. Hely, J.P., Principal 
 Superintendent of Convicts, in the Sydney 
 Gazette, in the year 1827, was found one morn- 
 ing, inrthe early seventies, stark-stiff dead. 
 * * * * 
 
 How the writer came to know him need not 
 
 159 
 
l6o TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 here be related. Suffice it that between us there 
 was an intimacy of a kind. He tolerated the 
 schoolboy, and the schoolboy regarded him with 
 something of respect and more of fear. For he 
 was not a lovable character. 
 
 Two services did the ex-convict do to the 
 schoolboy. He introduced him to the System 
 and the Regime— a service which was of very 
 questionable value. And he made him free of 
 a marvellous collection of books. As to which 
 privilege also the writer has his doubts. If he 
 had not had permission to ramble at will 
 through the bolter's books, he might have de- 
 veloped into a portly and wealthy banker, 
 instead of a hard-up journalist. 
 
 This last remark is not altogether by the way. 
 Had it not been for the " bolter " and his books 
 probably these " Tales of the Rdgime " wpuld 
 never have been written. 
 
 His books were everywhere in the house. 
 From the hall-entrance to the back door, from 
 the basement to the attic ceiling they were filed 
 in lobbies and rooms, on staircases and in fire- 
 places. They blocked window-recesses and ob- 
 scured sky- and fan-lights. Narrow passages, 
 
BOLTER l6l 
 
 the breadth of a man's frame, wormed through 
 the heaps of volumes, so that he could make 
 his way to any particular class of work desired. 
 For he preserved amidst apparent chaos a sys- 
 tem of arrangement, and though he absolutely 
 dispensed with the use of shelving, he could, 
 without difficulty, find a book when he wanted 
 it. 
 
 Literally surrounded by his books, he lived 
 the life of a solitary. But one person was ad- 
 mitted to the house— the aforesaid schoolboy. 
 Even the carrier who brought home the parcels 
 of his purchases from Dwight, the bookseller's, 
 or Shibb, the auctioneer's, was never allowed 
 an inch beyond the threshold, and, however 
 weighty the package, or miscellaneous its con- 
 tents, the old biblomaniac would drag it in 
 himself. Tradesmen never came to the house, 
 for he himself bought in the shops and prepared 
 his food, and the postman, when he brought 
 a rare letter, knew better than to knock or ring. 
 He would slip it under the door, and the old 
 man might or might not pick it up. Whichever 
 he did, it was all one in the result, for the letter 
 was ne^er opened. After his death a letter 
 from Quaritch, London, dated five years before, 
 was found, offering, him a four-figure sum for 
 
 M 
 
1 62 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 a unique Bible known to be in his possession. 
 Sir Redmond Barry bought the treasure for a 
 song at the sale. 
 
 His very bed supported books ; the table 
 on which he took his spare meals was partly 
 covered with them, and the seat he generally, 
 favoured in preference to the one chair to be 
 discovered on the premises was a low pile of 
 some folios bound in the sturdy fashion past 
 generations were wont to entomb their Dryas- 
 dusts. He lived in his books, and died among 
 them. 
 
 His name was, as the boy knew it first, 
 William Dillon, and he told it to the schoolboy 
 in the rainy duskiness of a December evening. 
 The boy had stolen in by the back way to say 
 good-bye before leaving for up-country to spend 
 his Christmas holidays. And the old man, for 
 the first time and the last time, welcomed him 
 with softness of voice. Usually he had but one 
 tone, the raucous surliness of the hater of the 
 human. 
 
 " So you are going before my time comes, 
 lad ? " 
 
 " Sir ? " for the boy did not understand the 
 allusion. 
 
 "My time is soon now. Johnny Fawkner's 
 
THE "HENRY PORCH ER " BOLTER 1 63 
 
 gone, and I said I would not be long after 
 him!" 
 
 " Did you know Mr. Fawkner, sir ? I never 
 heard you speak of him before ! " 
 
 " Know him ? Of course ! It was he who 
 helped me in Hobart Town after my bolt from 
 the gang." 
 
 : The boy listened. The old man had told a 
 hundred times of the Colonial System in the 
 brave days of old, but in all his narratives he 
 had sought to convey that his knowledge was 
 that only of the student and the observer. That 
 he had owned a personal interest in the System 
 flashed into the boy's mind. 
 
 " Do you not hear, you whelp ! Did you 
 hear me use the word gang ? " 
 
 He was lying on his bed. Between his body 
 and the wall were books, and books were at his 
 feet. As he spoke he, vexed, half-rose, and in 
 the petulance of his movement thrust some of 
 the volumes to the floor, or rather upon other 
 books. 
 
 The boy stooped to pick them up. 
 
 "Stopi! " roared the old man, with an accent 
 as of near thunder. " Stop ! How dare you 
 touch it ! " 
 
 The lad held in his hdnd a small book, 
 
1 64 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 elegantly bound in calf, with rich toolings and 
 deep gilt edges. It was the first he had picked 
 up. Before he could answer the old man spoke 
 again. 
 
 " Give it to me, you young rascal ! Is that 
 how you treat me? But why should you be 
 different ? You're all alike — you men, women, 
 and children — traitors all, spies all ! " He 
 snatched the book and thrust it between the 
 laps of his open vest, and cursed the boy again. 
 
 The lad grew indignant, though his awe of 
 the old fellow was such as to prevent his utter- 
 ing his feelings with the characteristic rudeness 
 of the "young colonial." All he cared to say 
 was : " I'm no traitor or spy ! I don't know 
 what the book is, and I don't want to know. 
 I'm off now, so good-night ! " 
 
 The rumble gave place to a strange pleading. 
 
 " Don't go, lad ; don't. I was too sharp. 
 And don't mind me, for my time is very close, 
 very close ! " He paused, and a gasping sigh 
 parted the gathering darkness, and thrilled the 
 lad fearsomely. 
 
 " My time's coming close, and there's no one 
 to do justice to — to " 
 
 " To whom ? " the lad ventured to ask at last. ' 
 
 His temper changed once more. " Why do 
 
THE "HENRY PORCHER" BOLTER 1 65 
 
 you ask ? Do you want to give me up like that 
 damned jade did, and get the reward ? " And 
 then the insane suspiciousness fled again before 
 his need for human sympathy, and he held out 
 the hand which clasped the book to the boy. 
 
 " Here — take it ! I'll trust you. Open and 
 read. Strike a light first ! " 
 
 The lad, unwillingly enough, obeyed. He 
 had never been with the old man after nightfall, 
 and this evening there was an unusual aspect 
 of wildness and uncanniness about him. But 
 his curiosity overcame his trepidation, and held 
 him to the spot. He lit the candle in a wall- 
 sconce, which was the sole light-giving appliance 
 of the room, and by its flickering proceeded to 
 read the contents of the volume. 
 
 " Aloud ! " whispered the old man. And 
 aloud the boy read the first page — an " abscond- 
 ing notice," cut, as an appended note in manu- 
 script testified, from a Sydney Gazette. The 
 notice was as follows : — 
 
 Principal Superintendent of Convict? Office. 
 
 ■* Sydney, May 17, 182- 
 
 THE undermentioned Prisoners, having absented 
 themselves from their respective Employments, 
 and some ol them at large with false Certificates, all 
 
1 66 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 Constables and others arc hereby required to use their 
 utmost exertions in lodging them in safe custody. 
 
 Any person harbouring, concealing, or maintaining 
 any of the said absentees will be prosecuted for the 
 offence. 
 
 (Signed) F. A. Hely, J.P., 
 
 Principal Superintendent 
 
 A list of the absconders followed, some thirty 
 or forty, and the boy was reading it down. 
 " Go down to the ' S's ' 1 " interrupted the old 
 man, and read what you see. Third of the 
 " S's " the boy read out the particulars of 
 William Shovey. 
 
 " Shovey — William, Henry Porcher, labourer, 
 19, Dublin, 5 ft. 5| in., chestnut eyes, brown 
 hair, brown complexion, from No. 9 Iron Gang." 
 
 "Who's William Shovey ? " cried the terrible 
 old man. He beat his hairy breast with savage 
 irritation. " Who's Shovey, William ? Say, you 
 whelp, say ! Don't stand there like a fool, but 
 answer." 
 
 "You are!" the boy replied, startled with 
 sudden prescience. 
 
 " Yes, I am ! — I am William Shovey, and I 
 don't care who knows it now, for my time is 
 coming soon ! You know it now, and Johnny 
 Fawkner did, and you're the only two in all 
 Victoria who know it. But I don't care now. 
 
THE " HENRY PORCHER BOLTER 167 
 
 I'll advertise it in the Age to-morrow and the 
 Argiis that I'm William Shovey— ha, ha!"— 
 the misery of that laughter !— " that would be 
 funny, wouldn't it, to advertise oneself as an 
 
 absconder ? But, you, go on ! See what's 
 
 on the next page ! " 
 
 Then the boy read this : — 
 
 By His Excellency Sir Thomas Brisbane, K.C.B., 
 Captain-General and Governor- in- Chief in and over the 
 Territory of New South Wales and its Dependencies, 
 etc., etc., etc. 
 
 THE INDENT having been examined, THIS CER- 
 TIFIES seven years have elapsed since sentence of 
 Transportation for that Term was passed on William 
 Dillon at Essex Q.S 18 October 18 1-, and who arrived 
 by the ship Sitrry (2) in the year 181- SAID William 
 Dillon is therefore restored to all the Rights of a Free 
 Subject. 
 
 Description as per other side. 
 
 GIVEN wider my hand at Government House, Sydney, 
 
 This sixteenth day of February in the year of our Lord 
 One thousand eight hundred and Twenty. 
 
 (Sd.) Tho. Brisbane. 
 
 REGISTERED IN THE COLONIAL SECRE- 
 TARY'S OFFICE. 
 (Sd.) F. GOULBURN, Colonial Secretary. 
 Sept. 20. Oct. 11. 
 
 1 82-. 1 82-. 
 
 T.R. T.K, 
 
1 68 ' TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 On the back of the document — it was pasted 
 on a guard so that the endorsement could be 
 read easily — were Dillon's particulars : — 
 
 Dillon, William, Surry (2), Labourer, 20, Cork, 
 5 ft. 6 in., hazel eyes, brown hair, dark com- 
 plexion. Tattooed ancltor on right forearm. 
 
 " And who's Dillon ? " questioned the ex- 
 convict. " Who's Dillon, whelp ? " 
 
 " You are, I suppose. But I won't stop here 
 to be called whelp." The youngster turned to 
 go. 
 
 " Don't go, boy ! You'll be sorry when you 
 know my time's come. I won't call you whelp 
 again. But who's Dillon ? " 
 
 " If you are not, I don't know." 
 
 " But if I'm Dillon, of the Surry Second, how 
 is it I'm Shovey, of the Henry PorcJier ? " 
 
 The boy was beginning to know the System, 
 and so he fired a shot which was not altogether 
 a random one. 
 
 "You stole Dillon's certificate of freedom 
 when you bolted ! " 
 
 It was as though the old man had been try- 
 ing an experiment, the result of which was 
 destructive to himself. He flamed into mad 
 violence of speech and gesture, and denounced? 
 the boy. 
 
BOLTER 169 
 
 " Like all the rest, traitors and spies ! You 
 use the knowledge you get from me to convict 
 me. Damn you ! You piece things together 
 to put me away ! If you can make me out 
 to be Shovey, free on a false certificate, others 
 can, the police can, the judge can ! " 
 
 But the boy, angered as well as alarmed at 
 the man's eccentricity, stopped to hear no more. 
 He passed out, and never saw Dillon, otherwise 
 Shovey, again. 
 
 But ten days afterwards there came to his 
 father's address a manuscript, which, in feeble 
 scrawl, on blue paper, made the ex-convict's 
 peace. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 " You should not have left me that night, my 
 boy. You should have put up with my non* 
 sense. For I was mad. 
 
 "But, as you went away, don't come back, 
 You offended me by going, and I never forgive 
 an offence. 
 
 " But I will tell you now that I am Shovey, 
 and that / did steal Dillon's certificate of free- 
 dom. I tell you so that in twenty years' time 
 you can tell others. Not under twenty years — 
 that will see the last of Dillon. For Dillon is 
 still alive. Every week a letter comes to me 
 
170 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 in care of D wight, from Gleadow, the solicitor 
 in Launceston, which tells me whether he. is 
 alive or dead. He was alive last week. 
 
 "All along I have meant to do him justice. 
 But he has life-sentence after life-sentence, and 
 I could not do him good. Gleadow has tried 
 for me, but as I did not tell Gleadow all the 
 truth, he could do nothing. All I could do was 
 to pay a warder at Port Arthur to give him 
 tobacco frequently. I don't know whether the 
 warder gave him all I paid for. But I do know 
 that once some of the stuff was found upon him, 
 and he got twenty lashes. 
 
 " Yes, Dillon's alive, and he will outlive me. 
 And, if he does, he will have every- penny I 
 possess. All will be sold, and I will leave such 
 papers — they are ready now — that surely the 
 Tasmanian Government will grant him release. 
 
 " He shall have wealth and ease at the last. 
 My money shall give him both. It is a fair 
 exchange — my gold for his freedom. 
 
 " It was in 1819 that I first knew Dillon. We 
 were in the Parramatta Road iron-gang to- 
 gether. He was a softy then, did his work as 
 well as he could to please the overseer, and 
 being afraid of the rest of us, we put upon him. 
 But he had his revenge. 
 
THE "HENRY PORCHER" BOLTER 171 
 
 " When he was freed, and the very day he 
 got his certificate, he came down to the gang. 
 Because he had pleased the overseer he let 
 Dillon come near us and speak to us. Any 
 other man would have been arrested. But 
 Dillon spoke to us, and taunted us, and we 
 could not say a word in reply. 
 
 " He held the certificate in his mawly, and he 
 came near to each one of us and thrust it under 
 our eyes. ' There,' he would say, • you ain't got 
 that ! You're lags, and I'm a free man.' And 
 we durst not say anything, though we were 
 maddened at the thought of it. 
 
 " There were nineteen of us all told, and we 
 were caged at night in the watch-house yard, 
 George Street toll-bar. An open shed it was we 
 were in, but 'twas better far than barracks — 
 there wasn't a warder or a guard on the inside. 
 From lock-up to rising we were left to ourselves. 
 And the deviltry that went on then ! 
 
 " But that night there was no deviltry ; we 
 were all too keen to discuss Dillon and his dirty 
 trick in coming and insulting us. We were 
 under Government and in irons, but 'twas no 
 reason why we should be insulted. We had a 
 little of men's feelings left, we said one to 
 another, and we would not stand it. 
 
172 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 " When we got our ration, instead of begin- 
 ning the devils' row, as usual, we were quiet — so 
 quiet that the sentry poked in his head and said 
 he was sure we were a-brewing mischiet We 
 told him we were all dog-tired, that was why, 
 and he was satisfied. 
 
 " We talked and talked what we should do to 
 Dillon, and at last we decided to steal his paper. 
 But who should steal it ? — that was the question. 
 
 " Some one said we should fight for it We 
 were nine couples and a single, and the couples 
 should fight ; each two men against another two, 
 and the winners should fight one another. At 
 the end of the first round the bye-man should be 
 taken into the lot, and some one else should 
 stand out So for the third round and till the 
 last. And the victor in the last ties should fight 
 the bye-man, and the best man of the two 
 should be helped to make a bolt of it, so that he 
 might steal Dillon's certificate. 
 
 "It was a good idea, we agreed, and a happy 
 way of spending Sunday. For the next day was 
 Sunday, and not being in barracks we were not 
 mustered for church ; we wouldbe mustered at 
 morning ration, and that was all. So we could 
 have the day for sparring, and the winner could 
 bolt at night. 
 
BOLTER 173 
 
 "We slept quiet that night, and the sentry 
 told the overseer who mustered us that he was 
 sure there was devilment afoot, and the overseer 
 sent down to the Military Barracks for another 
 sentry. That did not trouble us. 
 
 " At nine o'clock we paired off. And at half- 
 past nine I had put my man down ; he was older 
 than I, but knew more about sparring, and our 
 battle was the longest. 
 
 " At ten o'clock we drew fresh lots, and I was 
 fortunate enough to stand out the third round. 
 That was one freedom, I am sure, that resting. 
 The others went at it, and by this time the news 
 had spread, and numbers of persons, some on 
 their way to church, stopped to peer through 
 the half-opened gates; some gave the sentries 
 a dump a-head to come inside and watch us 
 closely. 
 
 "In the fourth round I was drawn, but my 
 man was soon done up, for he had fought all 
 through, and then I had to fight the bye-man. 
 It was awful, that tussle, for he was nearly my 
 own age and strength. But I knew a trick 
 which threw him, and when his head fell on the 
 cobbled, it dazed him, and he could not come 
 up to time. Then the persons in the yard 
 made a subscription for me, and gave me two 
 
I 74 TALES OF THE OLD "REGIME 
 
 dollars and five dumps. 1 But the sentries took 
 half. 
 
 " That night I bolted. I was helped over the 
 wall at the rear where there were no sentries, by 
 some of the gang. The others were making the 
 customary row, quarrelling and fighting among 
 themselves, so as to deceive the guards." 
 * * * * 
 
 Here Shovey's manuscript broke off. He 
 caused it to be left at the boy's home a day or 
 two before he died — by whom was not known. 
 He must have felt that " his time was coming," 
 and penned the narrative perhaps to facilitate 
 the doing of tardy justice to — his victim. 
 
 The boy thought the story was ended, when, 
 on showing the papers to his elders, inquiries 
 were made, and it was found that Dillon had 
 died at Port Arthur on the eve of that Christmas 
 which had been Shovey's last. 
 
 Years afterwards, however, he heard from one 
 who knew both men, the sequel of the escape. 
 
 " Shovey did not tell you the whole of the 
 circumstances preliminary to his bolt. He 
 omitted one most material particular. 
 
 'The "dump" was worth is. 3^. currency. The 
 : holey dollar," 5.9. 
 
THE "HENRY PORCHER " BOLTER 1 75 
 
 " That was that he was to return and show the 
 others of the gang the stolen certificate." 
 "What good could that do them ? " 
 " None. But it would prove to them that 
 Shovey had carried out the agreement on which 
 alone they had helped him to escape ; for which 
 they received punishment. They were, every 
 man Jack of them, flogged for not informing the 
 guard. Well, Shovey did not return, and as 
 their'notion had been less to free Shovey than 
 to punish Dillon, they felt betrayed, and vowed 
 the convict oath to revenge themselves upon 
 him. And, somehow or other, in that mysterious 
 way in which intelligence spread in the old days, 
 among the whole penal population, Shovey 
 learnt of their resolve." 
 
 " But how did he steal the certificate ? " 
 " There was at that time in Sussex Street, 
 Sydney, an inn, notorious for being the resort of 
 absconders. Why the watch left it undisturbed 
 for so many years would be a puzzle, if it were 
 not known that they were always bribable. To 
 this place, Shovey went, and being a likely 
 fellow — that is, likely to pay if not recaptured — 
 was aided in his design to escape to Van 
 Diemen's Land. He would have gone without 
 attempting to steal the certificate from Dillon 
 
176 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 but the landlord of the 'public" — influenced by 
 the Freemasonry of scoundrelism — swore that if 
 he did not commit the theft, he would not only 
 not assist him to leave the colony, but would 
 hand him over to the police. 
 
 " Well, he stole the certificate. A girl was 
 kept at the public-house to act as a decoy-duck, 
 and, by her wiles, Dillon was drawn to the 
 place. Necessarily he had his certificate with 
 him ; and it was the easiest mode to hocus the 
 man, and rob him of his * papers.' Yon see, 
 Dillon was not likely ; he intended, if he could, 
 to remain ' square,' and the publican, who was 
 also a 'fence,' hoped to make a decent profit 
 from Shovey. 
 
 " Shovey got off with the certificate to Hobart 
 Town. There, a few pricks with the needle and 
 a little gunpowder made him tally with Dillon's 
 description. Young Johnny Fawkner, believing 
 him to be Dillon, helped him to work 
 
 " He did well for a year or two. Then, one 
 day, there turned up, the woman. 
 
 "Dillon had been flung out into the street 
 after the theft, hocussed, drunk. At a word 
 from the publican, the watch obligingly re- 
 moved him to the cells, and next day (as a 
 newly-freed prisoner unworthy of freedom 
 
THE "HENRY PORCHEr" BOLTER 1 77 
 
 because he had lost his papers) — these were 
 but Alexander Berry's words — he was awarded 
 twelve months' gang-work. What wonder he was 
 desperate ? What wonder he now committed 
 crimes ? Before the twelve months were expired 
 he was under sentence for life. 
 
 "Then the woman relented, she knew that 
 others of No. 9 Gang had brooded over Shovey's 
 treachery themselves, as they regarded it, and 
 were eager to avenge it. They thought nothing 
 of the wrong to Dillon ; what they resented was 
 the fancied wrong to themselves. The girl, 
 repentant of her share for Dillon's fate, wanted 
 to do Dillon justice. The gangers wanted to 
 punish Shovey. 
 
 " In some way or other a few of the gangers 
 commanded money, and sent the girl over to 
 Van Diemen's Land. 
 
 "And there, one day in Campbell Street, she 
 accused Shovey of being at large on a false 
 certificate. She would not leave him till she 
 procured his arrest then and there. 
 
 * * * • 
 
 "He was brought up on suspicion of being 
 an absconder. 
 
 " He was stripped to his waist in court — the 
 woman was present — and his * marks ' compared 
 
 N 
 
178 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 with the certificate. ' They tallied fairly,' the 
 magistrate said. 
 
 " Then the measuring-rod was brought, and 
 his height was taken. ' It was near enough,' the 
 magistrate considered. 
 
 "The woman asked the Bench to order a 
 searching of the Sydney Gazette. ' The file was 
 defective,' pronounced the magistrate. 
 
 " ' What can I do to prove, your Worship, this 
 man is William Shovey, bolter — not William 
 Dillon, free by servitude ? I'll stake my life it is 
 him ! ' cried the woman. 
 
 " The Bench misunderstood — possibly. 
 
 " 'Well, if you take your life, I may consider 
 your statement proved ! ' said the Bench. 
 
 " The woman looked stupidly round the court- 
 room. By ill-luck, an officer of the garrison was 
 one of the visitors, and, being privileged, he had 
 seated himself within the rails. For comfort's 
 sake, he had unhooked his sword and had placed 
 it on the table in front of him. 
 
 " In a second, the girl had rushed forward, 
 had withdrawn the glittering blade, and before 
 one individual of the startled, horrified court 
 could lift a finger to stop the action, had slashed 
 her throat 
 
 '* As the blood gurgled from the gash, she 
 
THE "HENRY PORCHER BOLTER 1 79 
 
 gasped an echo of his words : ' You — believe — 
 
 now ! ' " 
 
 * * # * 
 
 " There is no knowing what a woman will do 
 when a thing becomes a matter of conscience. 
 But she was a fool to back her word in that 
 fashion. She ought to have bribed the magis- 
 trate with a larger sum than that which Shovey 
 — otherwise Dillon — had paid him." 
 
 " Do you mean " 
 
 " That Shovey bribed the Bench ? " 
 
 That was his story. And we know magistrates 
 were not unbribable in those days. 
 
 Price Warung. 
 
JOHN PRICE'S BAR 
 OF STEEL 
 
 THE sea-breeze fanned the symmetrical 
 stems of the giant Araucaria transplanted 
 by Colonel Foveaux to the front of Government 
 Cottage, and swept from its fronds a chord or 
 two of the music which the undisturbed cen- 
 turies had there garnered. The nearer face of 
 Mount Pitt, alpine in its solitude, was dazzling 
 in the pallor of a South Sea moon ; the blue of 
 the ocean lay intersected with broad, fan-like 
 beams of pearly radiance. It was such a night 
 as poets dream of and delight in, and, in other 
 climes, as the nightingale sings to the listening 
 rose ; such a night as, in this newest clime, 
 John Price enjoyed to the utmost. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 A born captain of men, and knowing the 
 seamy side of human nature, as (to the evil 
 Deities' sorrow) few men who have visited these 
 
1 82 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 colonies have done, he was so constituted as to 
 intensely enjoy every form of physical beauty. 
 In the midst of any scenic splendour, or in the 
 presence of finely-proportioned man, convicted 
 or not, or beautiful women, he would forget 
 even to fix his eyeglass ; and the hard grey of 
 his eyes would lose that dreadful faculty of 
 penetration in which consisted the main source 
 of his power over the convict creature and the 
 newer penal official. And when John Price's 
 face lost the use of the stony stare of the crystal 
 disc, and the metallic keenness of the unveiled 
 eye, then John Price was not himself. 
 
 There were frequent moments when he was 
 not himself. Take any of the sparse convict 
 survivors of the Old Regime, or any of the 
 scarcely more numerous representatives of the 
 subordinate Penal Officialdom, and they would 
 deny this. They would assert that John Price 
 was never aught but himself — that is to say, the 
 sternest of disciplinarians, the most sceptical of 
 moralists, the most saturnine of humorists, and 
 the most exquisite of torturers. That drawing 
 of him is about as true in perspective as that 
 other picture limned by the partial hand of 
 superior officers and of personal friends, in 
 which the figure of the Commandant stands 
 
JOHN PRICE'S BAR OF STEEL 1 83 
 
 clothed with a majesty of character little short, 
 considering his temptations, of saintliness. John 
 Price was neither a saint, nor yet of that high 
 degree among demons which would entitle him 
 to a shout of " Hail, brother ! " from the 
 sovereign and princes of the damned on his 
 entrance into the Nether World. He was, truly, 
 a many-sided man, the majority of whose facets 
 were, unfortunately for himself, shaped by the 
 planing-steel of the System. The System put 
 under its knife the material which, under other 
 conditions, wielded as a sword against the 
 nation's enemies, would have formed a general 
 of inspired audacity, a leader of dauntless 
 courage, and an administrator of unerring pre- 
 science. But — the Fates were just ! If there 
 was scarcely a convict whom the System and 
 the Rdgime did not spoil more or less, neither 
 did they spare the officials. And as John Price, 
 from his varied service in three colonies, was 
 the instrument of contamination to more desti- 
 nies than was any other administrator, it was 
 only to be expected that the loss he personally 
 suffered should have exceeded that of all other 
 servants of the System. The life which might 
 have ended at the doors of Westminster Abbey 
 was miserably let out by a felon's hand on 
 
184 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 Williamstown Pier. He whom die System 
 created, died by the System. Which was 
 justice according to the System. 
 
 * * # * 
 
 On this night, when Despair, throned im- 
 perially in her realm of Norfolk Island, decked 
 herself with the effulgence of Heaven in mockery 
 of the twelve hundred kindred mortals who 
 sweated terror-drops beneath their stamped 
 blankets, or in the embrace of fetters which 
 they nursed tenderly so that the iron should 
 not enter too deeply at night into the wounds 
 it had punctured during the day; on this night, 
 John Price, Civil Commandant, passed, with a 
 guest; from his dining-room to the verandah, 
 and gazed on the glory. 
 
 He thrust the less-known facets of his char- 
 acter into the view of his guest. 
 
 "A heavenly evening,* he said ; "I never saw 
 a finer." 
 
 " Not I ! " was the answer. 
 
 They exchanged no other word. Each 
 steeped himself in the rapture of the moment, 
 and forgot bis companion. Price gazed in the 
 direction of Phillip Island, bis visitor to the 
 zenith. 
 
 Then a child's voice broke the silence, A 
 
JOHN PRICE'S BAR OF STEEL 1 85 
 
 tiny, white-gowned figure glided out the hall 
 doorway, and called its father. 
 
 " Fa'ver ! Where is you, fa'ver ? " 
 
 " Here, sonnie. But, fie ! Not in bed yet ? " 
 
 The youngster trots on his naked feet half 
 the length of the verandah, and, at his father's 
 side, holds out his hands so that he might be 
 lifted up. 
 
 " I t'udn't do to bed, fa'ver, not wi'out saying 
 my new prayer." 
 
 " A new prayer ! " 
 
 The stern Commandant stoops and gathers 
 the little one within his arms. The guest 
 thinks if he were the father he would have 
 echoed the words ashamedly, for there is some- 
 thing discrepant between the position of an 
 absolute ruler of twelve hundred slaves and the 
 function of a father listening to the lisping of 
 an infant's benison. Not so, thinks John Price. 
 With all his faults, he did not fear God, man, 
 nor devil, and it is only the coward who insin- 
 cerely gives heed to another's opinions. The 
 whole world might have stood by, and John 
 Price would have done just the same. 
 
 " Ees, a new prayer, fa'ver ! Danny teached 
 it me, an' I isn't to tell on'y you, fa'ver." 
 
 " All right, little man, go on." 
 
l86 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 The child slipped from the strong grasp, and 
 knelt on the bare verandah boards. 
 
 "You believe in training up a child in the 
 way he should go, even if it isn't your way, eh, 
 Price ? " chuckled the guest 
 
 The Civil Commandant, though Dr. Hampton 
 was his official superior for the time being 
 (inasmuch as that Lesser Providence to forty 
 thousand souls, the Governor of Van Demonia, 
 had intrusted to the ex-convict-ship-surgeon 
 the potential duty of reporting on the " moral 
 state of Norfolk Island "), imperiously hushed 
 him into silence. 
 
 " I believe in religion," he said, " for children 
 and transports." 
 
 And the Doctor good-humouredly — for Price 
 was a useful official — accepted the snub, with 
 a rejoinder, — 
 
 " Who, after all, are only children of a larger 
 growth. They've to be fed, and put to bed, 
 and whipped and locked up like children. But 
 I'm interrupting — go on, my little boy ! " 
 
 " I's not you's 'ittle boy — I's fa'ver's — isn't I, 
 fa'ver?" 
 
 " Yes, yes ! But say your prayers, sonnie ! 
 You'll get cold here. Hadn't you better say 
 them to mamma or nurse, inside?" 
 
JOHN PRICE'S BAR OF STEEL 1 87 
 
 " No, fa'ver, for Danny tol' me to say my new 
 pwayer to you wery ownself, fa'ver." 
 "Well, well, go on!" 
 
 * * * * 
 
 The child whispered the Lord's Prayer. His 
 little head, curl-crowned, was reverently bent 
 above his pressed palms. 
 
 After the one prayer, which has been the 
 voice of all men in all the ages of Christendom, 
 he whispered his — 
 
 " Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, 
 Look 'pon 'ittle chil' ; " 
 
 and thereafter, his piping struggling with drowsi- 
 ness, his — 
 
 " God b'ess fa'ver, mu'ver, 'ittle sister, Sir John 
 Fwan-in, where's he ever is, an' Lady Fwan-in, 
 
 an' all — dear fr'ens " The curls, burdened 
 
 by sleep, fell upon the loosened hands, and the 
 childish accents dropped. 
 
 * * # * 
 
 The father stooped to lift the boy, when 
 Hampton, curious, said loudly, — 
 
 " You haven't said your new prayer, my little 
 man!',' 
 
 The child, aroused, rubbed his knuckles into 
 his eyes, and murmured a response. 
 
1 88 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 "Oh, no — Ts a-fotgettin'. Ill say it now, 
 faVer!" 
 
 He slipped again to die floor, and, patting 
 himself once more into the posture of prayer, 
 breathed, with a palpable reverence which made 
 the words doubly terrible, — 
 
 " God, p'ease damn John Price ! " 
 
 * * * * 
 
 It's a toss-up who developed a more refined 
 capacity for cruelty — John Price or some of the 
 transports whom John Price trained. 
 
 When Dr. Hampton was Governor of Western 
 Australia he was accustomed to remark that 
 never had he known or heard of John Price 
 flinching, except on two occasions. The first 
 was on a certain day in Tasmania, whose his- 
 tory we have yet to tell. The second was on 
 this night 
 
 The father shrank visibly as the child's voice 
 breathed its innocent malediction. The pallor 
 of his face was not that of the moonlight alone. 
 
 "Danny — taught — you — to say that?" he 
 questioned the laddie. 
 
 But the child's head pressed against his knees 
 in slumber. The father gathered the boy into 
 
JOHN PRICE'S BAR OF STEEL 1 89 
 
 his arms, and carried him into the house. As 
 he placed the little fellow in his cot he paused, 
 battled with himself for a moment as to whether 
 he could touch those lips which had emitted so 
 poignant a sting, and then, stooping, kissed the 
 rich redness of their curves and dimples. 
 
 The child, semi-roused, stirred, and murmured 
 caressingly, " Fa'ver ! " 
 
 " What are you going to do with the pris'ner 
 who put him up to saying that ? " questioned 
 Hampton, as the Commandant came forth 
 again to the verandah. 
 
 " Wait ! " 
 
 « Why ? " 
 
 " Because I can't punish the scoundrel now 
 without confronting him with the child. Doing 
 that would fix the — the — thing in the little 
 cove's mind, and would help him to remember 
 it. The words will slip away from his recollec- 
 tion if I do nothing to impress them upon him. 
 Besides " 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " To reveal to the pris'ner that he has " 
 
 He paused again. 
 
 " Hurt you ? " suggested Hampton, with that 
 
I GO TALES OF THE OLD .\EGIME 
 
 delicate malevolence, like a feline daw-scratch, 
 which was one of his characteristics. 
 
 " If you like — sor ! " Price was compelled to 
 remind himself the doctor was not only his 
 superior, hot las guest "To let him know 
 that he has hart me — as yon say — would be to 
 incite every servant I have to play me die same 
 trick. Don't you know, Doctor, with all your 
 experience of pris'ners, that the way to break 
 'em of a trick or practice not expressly pro- 
 hibited by regulation is to say nothing about 
 it? And that if you punish *m for it, you'll 
 give it an increased importance in their eyes ?" 
 
 As an administrator in a large way, and truly 
 meriting Mr. Gladstone's encomium that "he 
 was thoroughly qualified for the most respons- 
 ible offices in connection with convict disci- 
 pline," Hampton was accustomed to consider 
 himself John Price's superior, but he deferred 
 to the Civil Commandant in all matters of pre- 
 cise knowledge. He said so now, and not so 
 much fearful that Price would be excited to an 
 unusual exercise of magnanimity, as curious as 
 to the way he should punish the convict who 
 had invented this newest devil's trick, asked the 
 Commandant, "Was he prepared to overlook 
 the matter ? * 
 
JOHN PRICES BAR OF STEEL I9I 
 
 " I said I would wait," replied Price. 
 
 All things come to the man who waits. 
 
 Daniel Duncan, lifer, per Westmoreland, was 
 one of the four men allowed by Grace of the 
 Authorities to the Commandant for domestic 
 service. He had been selected by the previous 
 Commandant, and Price had retained him in 
 the entourage of Government Cottage till he 
 had seen whether he could be replaced by a 
 more deserving man — that is to say, in the 
 language of the System, a man who was likely 
 to be more useful in the house. 
 
 Unfortunately for Danny, such a man was 
 not long in presenting himself to the Com- 
 mandant's august notice. Somebody or other, 
 who was so contemptible a creature in the keen 
 eyes of the Lords of Evil as to be awarded by 
 them a mere trifle of seven years' confinement 
 amid the beauties of the island, was discovered 
 to possess a pretty faculty for artistic gardening. 
 He had suggested one or two striking means 
 of improving the view from the Cottage, and, 
 as the System was always anxious to improve 
 upon Nature, he was to be granted a chance 
 of gilding refined gold, by being told off to 
 
192 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 reduce the tangled exquisiteness of the pine- 
 glades, and the honeyed sweetness of the 
 spice-land, to the order so beloved of Penal 
 Officialdom. 
 
 Now, Order is a very fine thing, and, as a 
 vile body on which the Regime had performed 
 countless experiments, with the object of instil- 
 ling a sense of orderliness into his soul, Daniel 
 Duncan should have been appreciative of Mr. 
 Price's motive in superseding him by the other 
 prisoner. But even so admirably-devised a 
 plan of morality, as was comprised in the 
 Transportation System, could not eradicate from 
 Duncan's nature that tendency towards selfish- 
 ness which the less pious surroundings of his 
 youth had encouraged. Instead of meeting Mr. 
 Price half-way, so to speak, and welcoming his 
 relegation to the gaol-cell as an opportunity 
 for enjoying that self-communion which is so 
 essential to the culture of good character, he 
 resented his removal. And, resenting it, had 
 directed the innocence of the Commandant's 
 little child into the channel of cursing. Of 
 course it was not prudent of Danny to act in 
 this fashion, but wherever, since the epoch of 
 Eden, did splenetic man act prudently ? 
 
 He knew it was imprudent, and he knew, 
 
JOHN PRICES BAR OF STEEL 1 93 
 
 moreover, that it was damnable to teach child 
 lips to syllable imprecations. And with all his 
 knowledge, he risked the consequences of the 
 imprudence for the sake of the damnableness. 
 Which was a corollary of the System. 
 
 He knew it was the beginning of the con- 
 sequences when, standing on the verandah steps, 
 the morning after the night, the Commandant 
 said smilingly : " Make the most of your last 
 day, Duncan ! You go into the gaol-gang to- 
 morrow." 
 
 The prisoner looked defiantly into the disc 
 of unrimmed glass — and trembled as he saluted. 
 
 " Yes, sir ! " 
 
 " And, Duncan " 
 
 "Sir!" 
 
 "You are fond of children, Duncan ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Then, as you have, I believe, served the 
 Cottage pretty well, you shall have one indul- 
 gence, Duncan — the youngsters shall come over 
 sometimes. But no more prayers, Duncan ; no 
 more prayers." 
 
 Duncan, though the world was singing in its 
 warm bath of sunlight, shivered again, and 
 
 O 
 
194 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 bowed his head over the mattock. He re- 
 gretted his imprudence now. 
 
 Three days later the main guard — the gaol 
 — turned out as Dr. Hampton and the Com- 
 mandant arrived to inspect. 
 
 " Muster ! " ordered the Civil Commandant, 
 speaking to Assistant- Superintendent Tuff. 
 
 The occupants of the gaol, saving those wait- 
 ing trial, who were doubly-ironed in the cells, 
 were ranged in the corridor. 
 
 The authorities intended to "re-form the 
 gangs " that day, and " out " labour had ceased 
 for the time being, a circumstance which was 
 unpalatable to Tuff and disastrous to Danny 
 Duncan. For the gaol-men were usually mus- 
 tered by their gangs, and Tuff's special lot for 
 muster could be comprehended by a glance, 
 and he could rattle off the names from the 
 muster-book as though he were reading them. 
 Read them he could not, unless they were 
 written in text-hand. With forty men, how- 
 ever, to call over, this mechanical process was 
 impossible, and he could not read the names 
 from the roll, because the entries were made in 
 a running hand. 
 
JOHN PRICES BAR OF STEEL 1 95 
 
 " Muster ! " repeated the Civil Commandant. 
 
 Tuff, saluting in deprecatory tones, informed 
 their Honours that "the names wasn't large 
 'nuff for his weak eyes to see, yer Honours." 
 
 " Weak eyes ! " echoed the Commandant. " I 
 didn't know you had weak eyes." 
 
 " Yes, sir ! But they're jest come on, sir ! 
 They'll be better shortly, sir!" And Tuff 
 vowed to himself that he would give some of 
 the hospital rations of rum and tobacco to some 
 convict to coach him in reading " small-hand." 
 "Be better shortly, sir. An' shall one of the 
 men read over, sir ? " 
 
 The Commandant took no notice of the ques- 
 tion, but pursued his motive of inquiry. 
 
 " Just come on, has the weakness ! Now, 
 hbw weak are they? Look at Duncan there, 
 Duncan 41 — 392, Duncan of the Westmoreland,. 
 Can you see that bar of steel — a dangerous 
 weapon specially prohibited by regulation to 
 be in the possession of pris'ners — which he 
 has ? " 
 
 Tuff looks stupidly at Duncan ; Duncan re- 
 gards himself as stupidly ; there is a forward 
 craning*of necks down the line, as crows ranged 
 on a rock might protrude their beaks to watch 
 the turning of a living substance into carrion. 
 
196 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 For a second there is nothing to be seen by 
 any one ; Duncan's hands are, as per regulation, 
 clapped at his sides. Where, what, can be the 
 bar of steel ? 
 
 The Civil Commandant, John Price, steps for- 
 ward, pauses an instant to adjust his eye-glass, 
 and with his index-finger touched the fatal 
 object. 
 
 " Present this pris'ner after muster for having 
 in his possession a dangerous weapon, and re- 
 port yourself to the Doctor forthwith, Mr. Tuff, 
 in order to have that weakness remedied. It's 
 time something was done to correct your sight 
 when you allow pris'ners — and gaol-gangers 
 above all others — to carry bars of steel on their 
 persons. Give me the book ! " 
 
 The muster began, proceeded, ended. And 
 then Duncan, Daniel, No. 41 — 392, per West- 
 moreland, was presented at Court. Assistant- 
 Superintendent Tuff presented, and Civil Com- 
 mandant John Price, acting as magistrate, 
 presided. And Dr. Hampton, as an interested 
 spectator, was accommodated with a seat. 
 
 " Defence, pris'ner ? " demanded the Court. 
 " What d'ye say ? " 
 
JOHN PRICES BAR OF STEEL I97 
 
 " Only that your boy brought it me. I was 
 a-making him sails for his toy-boat when you 
 transferred me, sir, and the little chap, when he 
 see me yesterday, brought it me, sir, to finish 
 'em. From his mammy, he said, sir." 
 
 " You admit another offence as well ? Hold- 
 ing communication with free person's children 
 is illegal, and you know it. But we'll leave 
 that to another day. No other defence ? " 
 
 The prisoner held his breath. So did all the 
 Court, save the Commandant and Dr. Hampton. 
 They breathed easily enough, you may depend. 
 Only a Secretary of State could affect their 
 respiration. 
 
 " Then fifty lashes — and the wet quarry * for 
 six months — and the article to be forfeited. 
 May I ask your opinion, sir ? " 
 
 "A very proper sentence in my judgment," 
 approved the inspecting officer. " Very ! " 
 
 And he gazed steadily into the eye-glass, 
 
 1 Wet Quarry. — The work in the quarry was so 
 destructive to the gangers' clothes that, in the mercy of 
 the System, they were permitted a second or working 
 suit made of condemned blankets ! The comfort and 
 protection afforded by clothes composed of materials too 
 rotten to be served out to a Norfolk Island dormitory 
 may be inferred, but not valued ! 
 
198 TALES OF THE OLD REGIME 
 
 and saw in the steely eyes an interpretation 
 of the sentence which expressed his own mind. 
 
 John Price had waited only three days. 
 
 * * # * 
 
 Fame is a product of accident. So is infamy. 
 
 But it is questionable whether it was alto- 
 gether by accident that Danny Duncan, per 
 Westmoreland, became possessed of that com- 
 mon sewing-needle — size No. 2. 
 
The 
 Bullet of the Fated Ten 
 
 A TALE OF THE RING 
 
 I.— AT THREE O'CLOCK P.M. 
 
 THIRTY-TWO feet by twenty-two feet. 
 And one hundred and ten men in the 
 room. 
 
 This was cell No. I. 
 
 Thirty-two feet by twenty-two feet. And 
 one hundred and twelve men herded therein. 
 This was cell No. 2. 
 
 There were two other "cells" in the old 
 Sydney gaol, but in point of accommodation 
 they were luxury itself compared with Nos. 1 
 and 2. 
 
 They were respectively, the "Fines" ward, 
 where the detinues who declined to recognise 
 the right of His Majesty's magistracy to im- 
 pound their cash, numbered on the average 
 
200 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 about thirty, which thirty revelled in the ample 
 space of 27 by 20 feet ; and the women's ward. 
 
 This last was of the spacious capacity of 
 27 by 22 feet, and at the time of our story 
 accommodated forty women and five children. 
 
 There had been occasions when it had 
 sheltered sixty adults, but times, in the criminal 
 business of the day, were slack in feminine 
 offences, and the human contents only equalled 
 forty-two. (Five children under twelve counted, 
 in the matter of rations and allowances, for 
 clothing and coffins, as two adults) 
 
 To keep the inhabitants of this populous 
 centre in order five soldiers garrisoned it in the 
 day, and six at night. And all the available 
 space being taken up by the " cells " and yards, 
 it necessarily followed that there was no guard- 
 room attached to the structure. " Main guard " 
 contributed the gaol garrison. 
 
 Now these things are necessary to be remem- 
 bered, else our story would require a prelimin- 
 ary dissertation which should incorporate a 
 whole code of regulations. 
 
 Let the size of the gaol, its populousness and 
 the paucity of its garrison speak, and nothing 
 further is necessary to show that that dreadful 
 ballot, in the casting of which ten condemned 
 
AT THREE O CLOCK P.M. 201 
 
 used .the silver bullet of " The Ring," need not 
 have taken place at all. 
 
 That was the sting of the episode to the sur- 
 vivor of the group. The whole of the dread 
 business was needless. Why, what use to 
 ballot so that one should escape when the Ten 
 together could have conquered the guard and 
 freed the men of No. i and the " Fines " ? 
 That was the problem that vexed him. You 
 see that none of the Ten knew it would have 
 been so easy to take the gaol. It was only a 
 stone's throw from the guard-house on Char- 
 lotte Place, but still the assault, if successful 
 for five minutes, would have been successful 
 all through. The pity o' it ! To think of nine 
 lives dropped through the gallows door, when 
 no greater expense need have been gone to 
 than the sacrifice of half a dozen soldiers ! 
 Why, 'twas cruelly absurd to keep the Ten in 
 ignorance of the possibilities ! At best this is 
 what the survivor reflects, years after, when he 
 was a man of wealth and position, and when 
 he told this story. 
 
 It was just after three o'clock when the Ten 
 came into the yard, and that accounted for it 
 all — for all the ignorance, all the muddle, and 
 the loss of all nine lives. 
 
202 THE BULLET OF THE 1 ATED TEN 
 
 At three o'clock all the male prisoners were 
 locked up till six the next day, so that the 
 women and children, who had been immured 
 in their " black hole " all the livelong day, could 
 take a brief two hours of exercise in the yard. 
 There was but the one yard — when it was not 
 the men's exercise yard, it was the women's ; 
 and when it was neither, it was the playground 
 of the condemned. And there were ten con- 
 demned. 
 
 * * » * 
 
 The Fates were against them. They had 
 landed from the Norfolk Island brig the last 
 thing the previous day, and it was not thought 
 necessary to take them to the gaol, but they 
 had been confined to the cells in the new court- 
 house. Then the sessions had opened that 
 morning, and by 2.15 the court had sympa- 
 thetically postponed its luncheon, so as not to 
 embarrass the military jury of five officers by 
 too long a detention in the jury-room. His 
 Honour, the Judge, had duly received the jury's 
 pronouncement, had duly donned the skull-cap, 
 had duly admonished them for their crime, and 
 had duly ordered them to be hanged. And at 
 3.30 they were installed in His Majesty's gaol, 
 with the knowledge that on the following 
 
AT THREE O CLOCK P.M. 203 
 
 Monday the law's doom would be executed 
 upon them. And this was Friday. 
 
 There had been no unseemliness of haste 
 about the routine. But still it has to be said 
 that the Fates were against the Ten. Could 
 they have been polished off a little earlier, they 
 would have been delivered at the gaol before 
 the other business had left the yard, and they 
 doubtless would have learnt all about the 
 characteristics of the institution. Or had they 
 been, as the custom usually was, deposited at 
 the gaol for a few days pending trial, in like 
 manner they would have mastered all the ex- 
 cellencies of the establishment. As it was, 
 they knew nothing, or next to nothing, of the 
 routine and local system. It was many years 
 since the youngest in criminality had been in 
 Sydney, and things had changed much in that 
 time. They had had nothing to guide them as 
 to their treatment, save what they knew of the 
 Norfolk routine, and that was rigour itself. 
 They could not conceive that so ill-arranged 
 and so ill-disciplined was the Sydney Peni- 
 tentiary that it would have been the easiest 
 thiflg in the world for them to subjugate the 
 establishment, and effect their escape. And, 
 owing to the hour and manner of their arrival, 
 
204 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 there was no one to tell them. This was, in 
 the survivor's judgment, the most piteous thing 
 
 of all. Could they but have known ! 
 
 * * * * 
 
 These were the names and the descriptions, 
 and the ships of the Ten. 
 
 Michael Pedder, Asia (i), 2506, aged 32, 
 5 ft. 4^ in., dark ruddy complexion, light brown 
 hair, grey eyes, scar across nose, scar (new and 
 fresh) on left side of forehead. (This is his 
 description on the Norfolk Island cargo mani- 
 fest.) 
 
 Jabez Blake, Java, 817, aged 25, 5 ft. 6 in., 
 dark and freckled complexion, B J and cross on 
 right arm, indistinct mark (something like a 
 horse's head on his left), dark brown hair, light 
 blue eyes, rather emaciated. 
 
 William Andrew Drummer, Hercules (2), 
 2278, age 55, 5 ft. 9 in., grey hair, two women, 
 bird and barge inside lower left arm, woman, 
 anchor and laurel inside lower right arm, bright 
 hazel eyes, florid complexion. 
 
 Thomas Short, Dungarvan Castle, 244, age 
 19, 5 ft. 6 \ in., pale, sallow complexion, brown 
 hair, blue eyes, mermaid with comb and glass 
 inside of left arm, fourth finger of left hand 
 missing, old scar left side of neck. 
 
AT THREE O CLOCK P.M. 205 
 
 Patrick McCarthy, Isabella, 1420, aged 24, 
 5 ft. 1 in., pock-pitted complexion, small scar 
 under left collar-bone, mark of a burn on right 
 jaw, black hair, hazel eyes, seven stars and 
 anchor on lower left arm, P.M. on right wrist. 
 
 Thomas Lewis, Eliza, age 35, 5 ft. 3f in., 
 C. W. A., and woman's bust, stag and mermaid 
 on chest, ring on left little finger, sallow com- 
 plexion, chestnut eyes, brown hair. 
 
 John Hanlay, Rosslyn, age 40, 5 ft. 6 in., 
 freckled complexion, brown hair, dark brown 
 eyes, nail of little finger disfigured. 
 
 John Clyde, 5156, Marquis Hastings, age 24, 
 4 ft. 1 in., L. W. on left arm above crucifix, L. W. 
 on right arm below crucifix, fair hair, fair, florid, 
 pock-pitted complexion. 
 
 Edmund Entmorth, Phcenix, 143 1, 5 ft. 7 in., 
 age 4i,WMWMWMon each arm, dark ruddy 
 complexion, brown hair, brown eyes, ankles 
 iron chafed. 
 
 John Donnell, " Mangles," 777, age 32, 6 ft., 
 brown complexion, dark eyes, dark hair, whited 
 raised spot on lower part of right eye. 
 
 These were 'the Ten who went into the "Con- 
 demned " yard shortly after three of the clock 
 on the Friday, and who came out — as we shall 
 see. 
 
206 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 II.— AS THE NIGHT FELL 
 
 One and each of the Ten was a mutineer, a 
 mutineer of "The Hundred," the famous hun- 
 dred, that had riven the authority of the Com- 
 mandant (afterwards to be known as one of 
 the most dashing settlers of Port Phillip) for 
 the time being, as the sudden stroke of light- 
 ning rives the victimed tree. 
 
 Pedder was the ringleader, and the scar on 
 his forehead, freshly healed, was his trophy 
 from the fight. His description above given 
 did not represent him with accuracy. He had 
 much of the born leader in his features and in 
 his gait. An intrepid brow and fearless eyes 
 surmounted lineaments indicating powers of 
 organization and command, but a defiance of 
 society could be read in their lower contour. 
 The soldiers had surrounded him, and it was in 
 his pursuit that they had shot two of their own 
 number. He had turned quickly ; the two 
 close upon his heels doubled with him, and the 
 three at an angle to their former line of route, 
 attracted the fire of the rear guard of his pur- 
 suers. While Pedder escaped, the two received 
 the bullets intended for himself. He was 
 
AS THE NIGHT FELL 207 
 
 dreaded by the populace of the island, both 
 feared and hated, for his very dauntlessness made 
 him a greater devil than the rest. For him and 
 such as he was the System had little responsi- 
 bility. It had either to subjugate, or be sub- 
 jugated, and as he had begun his career with 
 crime, so he would end it with crime. The 
 humaner instincts nearly always to be found, 
 even in the twenty- fold perjurer and the thrice 
 condemned murderer, were absent from his 
 very nature, and even Maconochie would have 
 found it impossible to have opened up a door to 
 his heart save through a bullet. 
 
 Blake was a man of a different stamp ; one 
 of the weaklings of the island, who suffered 
 agonies from the physical confinement, and 
 greater agonies from the incessant whippings of 
 conscience. He was one of those in whom the 
 consciencejiever slept. 
 
 Drummer was the doyen of the group ; but 
 compared with others of the Ten he was an 
 innocent. He was an early arrival at the island 
 away back in the 'Nineties, and now that the 
 'Thirties were looming close ahead he was still 
 an fslander in thought, in fancy, and in feeling. 
 Thirty-six years, save for an interregnum when 
 the island was depopulated, were the years 
 
208 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 which he had lived on the island (if his exist- 
 ence could be termed life). Transported as a 
 boy, the deadening routine of island life have 
 overlain all his impressions of an existence out- 
 side of the surf-bound " Paradise." And now 
 here he was, once again in Sydney, no more a 
 boy, but a man, aged in suffering and experi- 
 ence of the vilest sort, and he was in Sydney to 
 be hanged. 
 
 " Mangles " Donnell was the giant of the 
 party, of great strength physically, but as fickle 
 as a child, save when subject to the stronger 
 will of another. There was no crime to which 
 he could not be forced, and there was no kindly 
 deed which he would not do, give him but the 
 means and the power, when influenced by men 
 who knew him and who knew themselves. 
 
 As to the others, we are concerned with Short 
 directly, and let the story tell something more 
 
 of him than his description sheet 
 
 • * * * 
 
 It was half-past three o'clock when the Ten 
 were hustled into the yard. Because they were 
 condemned, and not merely committed or 
 sentenced to imprisonment or transportation, 
 they would be granted the superior distinction 
 of isolation from the occupants of Nos. i and 2 
 
AS THE NIGHT FELL 209 
 
 cells. As there was no other place for them to 
 be confined, necessarily they had to deprive the 
 women of those precious moments when they 
 might breathe the air and see the sky, save 
 through barred windows ; and when the news 
 went into the women's ward that there was to 
 be no exercise that day, Saturday, or Sunday, 
 there was shriekings of rage and grief. Few 
 privileges indeed had the women, and to be 
 deprived of their exercise-time added fresh 
 pangs to the punishment of the virtuous — for 
 there were virtuous among their number — and 
 a new fury to the rebellion of the others. 
 
 There was a young mother there, nursing an 
 infant at the breast. She had a toddler pulling 
 at her gown, and the little thing, ill with the 
 squalor and noisomeness of the place, had 
 learned to look with instinctive pleasure at the 
 prospect of the day's " outing." She had seen 
 the locking up of the ordinary prisoners, and 
 knew that the hour had arrived at which the 
 women usually rushed pell-mell into the vacated 
 yard. To-day, however, the little one saw 
 instead of the wonted rush, a grouping of the 
 women in angry knots, rapid and passionate 
 gesticulation, and the making of a noise which 
 terrified her. 
 
 P 
 
2IO THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 " Mother, mother," it cried, burying its face in 
 the mother's gown, " let me out ; let me out." 
 
 " Not to-day, dearie," said the mother, a quiet 
 Hawkesbury lass, incarcerated on a charge of 
 petty theft, " Not to-day, dearie." 
 
 " Let me out, let me out," shrieked the child ; 
 and the other children — there were, as we have 
 said, five in all the ward — took up the cry, " Let 
 us out, let us out." 
 
 A virago who had by force of muscularity 
 and temper risen to the proud position of 
 monitress, and whose emoluments consisted in 
 being allowed sugar in her tea, and two ounces 
 of tobacco weekly, bade the mothers stop their 
 youngsters' clatter, and shook one of the elder 
 children. As might have been expected, this 
 but increased the turmoil, and before many 
 minutes had elapsed the melee became general. 
 The mother of the child who had been shaken, 
 whirled round and round in the scuffle, saved 
 herself at last from falling by clasping the bar 
 of a window looking upon the yard. She held 
 herself up by it, the while the monitress was 
 showering blows upon her, and shrieked out 
 between the interstices of the bars to the 
 doomed men. 
 
 "They say as ye're black Norfolkers. By 
 
AS THE NIGHT FELL 211 
 
 , if yer was ye'd pull the whole gaol down. 
 If yer was like some Norfolkers as I knows, 
 ye wud I know. Ye deserve to be 'anged, 'cos 
 yer keeps the women and kids from gettin' 
 a mouthful of fresh air." 
 
 A further verbal onslaught was prevented by 
 the monitress putting her hand before the 
 woman's mouth. 
 
 " No, yer don't, my fine hussy. None o' that, 
 or I'll get yer inter the stocks." The woman's 
 voice- was stilled and there was a lull in the 
 storm, the scores of turbulent women waiting to 
 see what would be the result of the monitress' 
 assault upon the other. 
 
 The lull permitted to be heard another child's 
 pleading. " I wish I could get out, mummy ; I 
 wish I could get out." These words were dis- 
 tinctly heard by some of the condemned, who, 
 curious at the disturbance, had clanked their 
 iron legs and taken up a position beneath the 
 window. " Why don't yer let the kinchins out. 
 If we are black Norfolkers, what's the row ? " 
 
 The monitress, now eager for something like 
 change herself, bettered the example of the 
 woman she had chastised. " Oh, my Jack 
 Ketch beauties, ye're going to be turned off are 
 ye. Well, I don't care how soon. Don't yer 
 
212 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 know as we women can't get out 'o here till 
 Monday. That's what you fellows do for us, is 
 it ? We's as lief be hanged ourselves as be 
 kept in here for three days. An' if I were black 
 Norfolkers I wouldn't stop here longer than it 
 suited me." 
 
 Some faint glimpse of the truth was perceived 
 by Pedder. He came from the centre of the 
 yard to the wall and said, " What's that, missus ? 
 What do yer mean by that ? " 
 
 But the monitress now bethought herself. 
 Was she not after all something of an official, 
 and as such shared in official emoluments and 
 privileges ? Why should she risk the loss of 
 sugar in her tea and her two ounces of tobacco 
 by her precipitate desire to confide the fact of 
 the insecurity of the gaol to some fellows who 
 might, for all she knew, contain a likely informer 
 or two among them ? 
 
 " Oh," she said, " nothing. I don't mean 
 nothing." 
 
 Pedder thought for a moment, and in that 
 moment was convinced that the woman had in 
 her first remarks said something which was not 
 without importance to him and his mates. 
 Very keen were the susceptibilites of men such 
 as this ringleader, when they had been sharpened 
 
AS THE NIGHT FELL 213 
 
 upon the grindstone of necessity and the whet- 
 stone of deception. With a flash of intuition, 
 he felt that if he could induce some woman to 
 give him the hint, there was something to be 
 done and something to be discovered. With a 
 stroke of policy that amounted almost to 
 inspiration, he felt that to get at the woman he 
 must use the children. 
 
 " What's that about the kinchins ? " he said. 
 " Can't they get out ? " 
 
 " No," growled the monitress, known as Slippy 
 Sal. " We're all a-stuffed in 'ere till the scragger 
 comes along for you fellows, and, please God, 
 that won't be long." 
 
 " Ain't there any other yard ? " asked Pedder. 
 
 " Only the stores, and we can't get in there. 
 Until you fellers are topped off we've got to stay 
 here, and the kiddies too." 
 
 "Well, that's 'ard," broke in Blake, "for the 
 kiddies. Chuck 'em out 'ere, and we'll amoose 
 em." 
 
 There was a laugh at this both inside the wall 
 and outside. The soldier on guard at the gate 
 of the condemned cell, and whose " go " had 
 turned him from the enclosure, put his head 
 into the trap-door, or spy hole, and interjected 
 " Silence ! " 
 
214 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 Pedder clanked with his double irons towards 
 the gates. " I say, Lobster," wheedlingly, " the 
 wimmin in there are cussin' 'cos their kids can't 
 git out. You ask the Governor to send them in 
 here. Let the youngsters have the fresh air. 
 We won't interfere." 
 
 The soldier looked wonderingly at Pedder, 
 but he had little ones of his own, and again and 
 again he had felt for the shrivelled little brats 
 whose pallid faces and withered limbs had 
 touched him to sympathy. So he deviated 
 from the strict path of duty, and ringing his 
 musket stock upon the stone flagging of the 
 corridor, sent the convict lad who acted as 
 messenger, and whom the signal had brought 
 to the spot, to the office of the guard with a 
 message. 
 
 Lieutenant Courtney appeared. 
 
 "What is it, Private Smith?" he questioned. 
 Smith saluted and conveyed what he thought 
 was the women's wish. He did not know, of 
 course, that the women had expressed no specific 
 wish, that he in reality was simply moving to 
 carry out the idea that had framed itself in the, 
 cunning brain of Pedder. Courtney laughed^ 
 and went to the Governor, and as a consequence? 
 within ten minutes the Hawkesbury girl, braced 
 
AS THE NIGHT FELL 215 
 
 with her couple of children and the other kin- 
 chins, were sent into the yard. 
 
 It was certainly an act of thoughtlessness to 
 send in . the woman, but the rigid system was 
 often relaxed in little points such as that, with- 
 out rhyme or reason. One injunction was laid 
 upon her. She was not to speak to the men, 
 but to keep herself in one corner, whilst the men 
 were motioned by the officer to the opposite 
 corner. Sentry Smith, moreover, was ordered 
 to shorten his walk so that his eye might always 
 be on the condemned group. If the gaoler gave 
 a second thought to the matter at all, it was not 
 to consider the possibilities of communication 
 through the medium of the woman, but simply 
 for her temporary protection. 
 
 The children with little nervous shrieks rushed 
 about between the men's legs. In a minute or 
 two the men had squatted in a semicircle on 
 the stone floor by the further wall, and the 
 children were leaping over their irons, being 
 tossed pleasantly from one to another. The 
 women who were in the ward crowded to the 
 window to look at this pleasant sight, for it was 
 pleasant, as it was unusual, this mateship. The 
 grim faces of the men relaxed, and no one would 
 have thought that one and all were under sen- 
 
2l6 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 tence of a dreadful death. The children plucked 
 the men's hair, tossed the caps of those who had 
 head gear, and dangled and played with the 
 chains that linked ankle and ankle. And the 
 mother of the five-year-old toddler in the oppo- 
 site corner stood and gazed. But while the 
 children played, and the men smiled, Pedder 
 was plotting, and he still was plotting as the 
 night fell. 
 
 III. — AS THE MORNING ROSE 
 
 Pedder plotted to such purpose, that when 
 night fell, and Sentry Smith before being re- 
 lieved, ordered the Hawkesbury woman and the 
 children back, the little child took with her a bit 
 of slate. It was a toy, she thought ; it was a 
 toy her mother thought ; it was a toy the sentry 
 thought. The child held it gleefully aloft so 
 that all might see as she went through the door- 
 way into the corridor. It was a bit of slate 
 which had fallen from the overhanging roof of 
 No. i cell. With the fragment of a bit which 
 he had snapped off, Pedder had drawn a gallows 
 and a man dangling from it. The whole he 
 had encircled within a ring that seemed a frame. 
 
AS THE MORNING ROSE 21 7 
 
 Some of Pedder's colleagues looked upon the 
 thing as rather a good joke; so did the Hawkes- 
 bury lass ; so did Sentry Smith ; but condemned 
 man Blake, condemned man Drummer, and con- 
 demned man Clyde exchanged glances with one 
 another and with Pedder, and the hearts of each 
 leapt within them. Surely that would bring a 
 "Ringer" to their aid. Some blankets were 
 thrown into them by the soldier who relieved 
 Smith, at 6 o'clock, their food was given to them 
 at 6.30, and at 7 o'clock the officer of the night 
 guard came in and tapped their irons, and 
 wished them as he went out a good night and a 
 
 happy hanging. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 Now the mutiny had been a "slant." The 
 dashing Victorian squatter that was to be, had 
 not been altogether a success as a Commandant, 
 and it was felt both by himself and " others," 
 the convicts being chief among the " others," 
 that things under his rule would soon come to 
 an end. He doubled guard, displayed keener 
 activity in visiting the outlying posts, and in 
 other ways prepared for an etneute. Pedder had 
 got tired of things in general, and had organized 
 that movement which was popularly known in 
 Norfolk Island and Port Arthur as a " slant," 
 
2l8 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 that is, he had planned a murder or a mutiny on 
 purpose to obtain a trial in Hobart or Sydney. 
 The mutiny of The Hundred had resulted, and 
 the "slant" had come off with promptitude. 
 Half a dozen convicts had been killed and 
 wounded, two soldiers had been killed by the 
 soldiers themselves, two by the convicts, arid 
 several wounded. Altogether it was a great 
 success, and now here there were waiting ten to 
 be hanged. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 And now the ten were woke up on the 
 Saturday morning by a gentleman who had 
 profited by the " slant " to come to Sydney as a 
 witness. He had heard of the Slate, and knew 
 thereby that some at least would escape if they 
 could. 
 
 There were always witnesses required and 
 ofttimes a "slant" was arranged as much as 
 anything else to give the witness a trip as well 
 as the actual offender. 
 
 It was still dark, at four o'clock, when the 
 witness appeared. With comparative noiseless- 
 nes.s the door swung back, and the sentry let 
 him in. Quietly, with cloth slippers on his feet, 
 he went from one to another of the sleeping men 
 and touched them. He named them all in turn 
 
AS THE MORNING ROSE 2IO, 
 
 and bade each arise. The men were accustomed 
 by long years of discipline and by special train- 
 ing for revolt and rebellion, for at the Island 
 they had again and again gone through the trial 
 of waking quickly and getting up noiselessly, so 
 close was the possibility of escape always to 
 their imagination. Each accordingly got up as 
 his name was called, and wondered and waited. 
 Only Pedder and Blake did not wonder. They 
 had felt quite sure, instinctively as it were, that 
 the bit of slate sent by the child's hand would 
 spread rumour throughout the gaol, and in the 
 indefinable and inexplicable way in which news 
 circulated (even in the iron cells of Norfolk 
 Island) would reach some one. 
 
 Now the man who had come into that yard at 
 four o'clock in the morning was a " ringer," and 
 several of the others were " ringers." He was a 
 "fiver," the highest grade of any one present. 
 Pedder was a " sevener," Blake was a " niner," 
 Drummer and Donnell (enlisted for his great 
 strength) were in the "novices." The others 
 knew the " Ring " simply as every Norfolker 
 knew it — a terrible institution to be dreaded and 
 to be obeyed. The man who entered from the 
 outside held a strap in his hand, and by a 
 movement scarcely to be detected, but rather' 
 
2 20 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 imagined, he separated Pedder, Blake, Drum- 
 mer, and Donnell from the others. Then each 
 feeling his way in the blackness, grasped the 
 strap, and they stood there with the link of 
 union between them. 
 
 Drilled, as the others were, with as little 
 noise as possible, each stooping as he revolved, 
 so as to clasp his irons and prevent them from 
 clanking, they turned their faces to the wall and 
 waited, for what — they knew not. 
 
 In the argot of the " Ring " these fellows 
 exchanged whispers. The "Outside" said, 
 " Pedder, you are a ' sevener ' ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Blake, you are a ' niner ' ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Drummer, you are a ' novice ' ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Donnell, you are a ' novice ' ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then in the name of ' the One ' I bid you 
 hold a session to decide which of you shall 
 escape. Only the one can escape, and my 
 orders are that the six who are not in the 
 ' Ring ' must be in the ' ballot.' " 
 
 Pedder murmured, "Where are your other 
 credentials ? " 
 
THE ANSWER TO THE SLATE 221 
 
 " Right," said the "Outsider," the "Fiver." 
 
 " Right." 
 
 He passed the strap which he was holding 
 from his right hand into his left, and produced 
 something from his pocket. He pressed it into 
 Pedder's hand. Pedder acknowledged its re- 
 ceipt by an exclamation which called forth a 
 sharp "Hush ! " from the "Outsider," for Pedder 
 had uttered the words, "The Silver Bullet." 
 
 IV. — THE ANSWER TO THE SLATE 
 
 Blake shivered as he caught Pedder's whisper, 
 "The Silver Bullet." Drummer and Donnell 
 did not know the full significance of the words, 
 but they were impressed at once, for now that 
 their eyes had become used to the darkness, 
 they saw that Pedder and Blake had bowed 
 over the bullet. Nothing was a more singular 
 weapon against the System than the employ- 
 ment the " Ring " gave to the capacity for 
 reverence and obedience, which are inherent 
 in almost every man, and nothing proved the 
 " Ring's " diabolical character more clearly than 
 thefact that the perverted moral sense of the 
 society's founders did not seek to obliterate 
 reverence and obedience but to distort them to 
 
222 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 vile objects. But this is by the way. To the 
 " Ring " the silver bullet was a message from 
 the dreaded chief of the " Ring," " The One." 
 
 For all they knew, this man, who avowed him- 
 self as a " Fiver," might be " The One " him- 
 self. It had been suspected that "The One" 
 had on occasions, in order to test the fidelity 
 and veracity of the men in the lower circles, 
 even included himself in the ranks of the 
 •' novices," and had worked his way up again 
 to the eminence (but one degree short of his 
 own dreadful pre-eminence) of " The Three." 
 
 Pedder and Blake stood silent, waiting for 
 the next command. The " Outsider " took the 
 bullet back and re-pocketed it. They knew, 
 then, that they must obey him ; listened eagerly 
 for his next words. 
 
 " Brothers," he said, " I found it impossible to 
 communicate with you from the outside, until 
 the bit of slate came to-night. I was in. Court." 
 
 " Yes," interjected Blake, " and gave evidence 
 against us." 
 
 " Of course. I could not do othervyise. But 
 I am here now to save one o' yeh. The slate 
 was passed round the women's ward, and then 
 into the men's cells, as a good joke. That was 
 clever of you, Pedder for of course you did it." 
 
THE ANSWER TO THE SLATE 223 
 
 " Yes," said Pedder. 
 
 " And the men told the night-soldier of their 
 cell, and I heard them telling ; and then I kn.ew 
 that if that thing could come out, something 
 could go in." 
 
 " I have been ordered to save one of you, and 
 one only, because the opportunity is not good 
 enough to save more of you." 
 
 " Which is it to be ? Men out of the ' Ring " 
 or in it ? " 
 
 " The other six are to be in the ballot. 
 Those are ' The One's ' orders." 
 
 Each man drew a deep breath, but was silent. 
 The greatness of the hope had arisen in each 
 heart, for each knew thoroughly that could the 
 one but be rescued, it would mean ultimate 
 escape from the colony. 
 
 " Brothers," went on the " Fiver," " you must 
 take the oath." 
 
 And the dread ceremony was gone through, 
 so far as could be done in the brief space of 
 tjme. Foot to foot, and forming a cross, with 
 clasped hands, each whispered the oath, and 
 each felt under that weird incantation thatj 
 while he would be true to his brothers, he 
 would dare much to win the freedom which 
 never seemed so sweet as when it was con- 
 trasted with the appalling tyranny that the 
 
224 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 " Ring " exercised over even the most elevated 
 of its members. 
 
 Foot to foot they chanted the oath, and then 
 the " Fiver " released his hold on the strap and 
 moved in circles round the others. 
 
 "You swear you'll be true men to the ' Ring ' 
 and your brothers and the Devil — the ' Ring's ' 
 lord and master — and that the ballot of the 
 silver bullet shall be a true ballot, and not 
 worked, 1 so the Devil keep you all." 
 
 And the four muttered, " The Devil keep us ! " 
 in response. 
 
 This was all that passed then. 
 
 Long pencils of light were already streaking 
 the sky eastwards as the " Fiver " withdrew. 
 
 The door was opened noiselessly and closed 
 as quietly. 
 
 By whom ? Ah, that cannot be told now. 
 
 The four were left to hint to their colleagues 
 of the condemned all they dared. 
 
 They had not asked when the ballot should 
 be, or in what form it would take place. But 
 those of the " Ring " knew that the traditions 
 would be held sacred — if the term is not mis- 
 used in this connection. They realized fully 
 that when the hour came that the ballot should 
 1 " Worked," " faked," or manipulated unfairly. 
 
THE SUNDAY VIGIL 225 
 
 be, it would be ; and they could occupy them- 
 selves till then in dreaming, each for himself, 
 of the ballot's result. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 About nine that morning the Hawkesbury 
 lass was sent in again, with her children and 
 the other "kinchins." And the youngsters 
 gambolled as they had done the previous after- 
 noon ; gambolled and played merrily in and 
 out of the condemned group. But the con- 
 demned were only playmates at intervals, and 
 one and all were discussing the problem, 
 "Would the bullet fall to him?" 
 
 V. — THE SUNDAY VIGIL 
 
 Saturday passed, and Sunday also, towards 
 night. From all the cells, male and female, 
 stories of blasphemy had arisen ; for the con- 
 demned could not be removed, of course, and 
 the cells were stifling. Executions were fre- 
 quent enough in old Sydney, but not for years 
 had there been so heavy a batch of condemned, 
 and usually those destined for the gallows were 
 left in the yard with the other prisoners, who 
 however were separated from them by a convict 
 guard. The Ten were thus equally honoured 
 
 Q 
 
2 26 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 by their isolation, could they but have appreci- 
 ated it. 
 
 They heard the yelling and the cries, and 
 had no hesitation in ascribing it to the true 
 reason. But they did not bother much as to 
 how the others they had inconvenienced felt. 
 Each was pondering as to the ballot. 
 
 The Protestant chaplain in the pastorage, St. 
 Philip's, had called in on the Sunday, but he 
 was over-worked and ill. The Ten were of two 
 faiths, and the Roman Catholic priest would be 
 with his people on the Monday early. Be- 
 fore that he could not come, because of the 
 services which he had to hold twenty or thirty 
 miles away. So, save for good Chaplain Cou- 
 per's call, the Ten had been officially left to 
 themselves, or, what to. "nine" would be their 
 last Sunday on earth. They had plain duff for 
 dinner, however, and that was a consolation not 
 without its sweetness : often of exquisite gra- 
 ciousness to condamnes in their last hours were 
 the offices of the State ! 
 
 One other break the Ten had. The children 
 were clean-bibbed and petticoated, and had 
 come up to the men with peculiar delight to 
 sport their hebdomadal finery. The wearing' of 
 clean frocks and pinafores was one of kindly 
 
THE SUNDAY VIGIL 227 
 
 Mrs. Macquarie's regulations, and the means 
 for obeying being provided with the need for 
 obedience, it had more than once kept the 
 heart of a sainted mother sweet to give her 
 child in what, in that squalid atmosphere, was 
 a distinguished appearance. 
 
 The five-year-old daughter of the Cornstalker 
 had touched Short on the arm to draw his 
 attention to herself. 
 
 The man was sitting on the ground with his 
 head bent between his knees, and almost to his 
 chains. He was not brooding so much as 
 dreaming of what the future might be suppos- 
 ing — but why suppose ? Had he ever been 
 lucky in life that luck should fall upon him 
 now and he be cast for freedom by the ballot ? 
 He and the -others not in the " Ring" knew the 
 method of selection was by ballot, but how— 
 they knew not that. 
 
 He shivered as the child touched him. Was 
 it the message ? 
 
 ' Looking up he saw the gleeful little face 
 peering into his, and the heart within him 
 throbbed painfully. If he could but be free — 
 if the bullet would fall into his hand — ought he 
 not, away in the newer scenes, be able to make 
 aT'new home, even have children — such a child 
 
228 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 as that whose orbs, tiny balls of light, looked 
 steadily into his own gloomy eyes, curiously 
 scanning the image therein represented. 
 
 " Look, Mis-ter Short," she said, in her piping 
 treble — the Hawkesbury lass was not forgetful 
 of her child's manners, even in her incarcera- 
 tion—" Mis-ter Short, look ! " 
 
 The child held out her frock, with its frill of 
 coarse embroidery. " I'se a clean f'ock ! " and 
 carolled lightly as she met an answering smile 
 upon his face. 
 
 Then she turned her head, and he followed 
 her movement, to catch her mother's eye by the 
 corner near the gate. The mother, meeting 
 his gaze, cast a suspicious glance towards the 
 window, where half a dozen faces of the 
 stronger women (they had beaten down their 
 weaker sisters) were clustered. Watching care- 
 fully that she was not observed, she motioned 
 with her head to Short, as though to direct him 
 to look more closely at the child's frock. He 
 did so, but did not at the instant perceive to 
 what she referred. Then she called the child to 
 her, and putting her baby for an instant (she 
 had been walking up and down with it) on 
 the ground, she placed the edges of the frock 
 in such a manner that the little child held it as 
 
THE SUNDAY VIGIL 229 
 
 if about to make a curtsey. Then a whispered 
 injunction sent the child back. 
 
 Pedder's attention had by this time been 
 drawn to this little bit of by-play, and with his 
 wonted keenness saw in it more than lay on the 
 surface. He closely followed the child's move- 
 ments with his eyes, and saw almost as soon as 
 Short himself did, to whom she had gone, that 
 some letters or words were roughly marked out 
 in sewing cotton upon the frock. 
 
 Rising slowly from his recumbent position, he 
 put down another child which had come to him 
 and took 'the little five-year-old in his arms, 
 but, frightened at the repulsiveness of his face, 
 she cried to go to Short, and would not remain 
 still while Pedder examined the dress. 
 
 Once on the ground she flew from both Short 
 and Pedder, and crying, went back to her 
 mother. They did not know it, of course, but 
 with her went also the hope of freedom, for all 
 the fated gang. Pedder could not realize the 
 significance of the message, but nevertheless 
 he felt that something had been missed, and 
 then with the spiteful temper of the illiterate, 
 which always seeks to wreak upon others, the 
 penalty of its own blunders and misdeeds, he 
 turned sharply upon Short; and struck him. 
 
23O THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 Short rising and aggrieved, too, that he could not 
 know what was sewn on the frock, struck back 
 at Pedder. The women in the ward who saw 
 the encounter, cried out joyfully. It broke the 
 monotony of the day, an occurrence of that 
 sort. The noise of the scuffle, the women's 
 cries and the child's alarm, however, drew the 
 notice of the sentry, and the fun was short. 
 He flung the gate open, entered, locked it be- 
 hind him and parted the combatants with his 
 bayonet, demanding the reason for the trouble. 
 Both the offenders remained sullenlyWlent, and 
 none of the other condemned could,Tbr would 
 speak as to the cause, while the women were 
 ignorant as to the precise reason for the out- 
 break. " You are a pair of fine lads," sneered 
 the sentry. "When ye're both a-going to be 
 turned off to-morrow, to be quarrelling now. 
 Have yer been doin' anythin' to the youngster ? " 
 Neither would speak, but Blake interjected, 
 " No, the fault is Pedder's." He saw that what- 
 ever had been the cause, Short was not to 
 blame, and he recollected in the heat of the 
 moment, that Short was the only one of the 
 gang who could read. The one idea of the 
 ballot was before his mind and not knowing 
 how the message would come the agony of sus- 
 
THE SUNDAY VIGIL 23 I 
 
 pense was increased by the fear that if the little 
 trouble caused these men to be separated and 
 Short to be taken out of the yard, any written 
 message from their friend the " Fiver," might 
 remain undeciphered. On this announcement, 
 Pedder flushed with rage. 
 
 " You lie ! " he cried, and would have struck 
 Blake also if the sentry had not thrown up his 
 musket and received the blow upon its barrel. 
 
 " Look here, me flash coves," said the 
 soldier, " do you forget as yer have got to go 
 to heaveriflpb-morrow ? Shake hands now, and 
 if yer waRto 'ave Ver fight out, wait till yer git 
 tother side o' Jordan." 
 
 The women in the ward caught the words 
 and cheered the remark, but the woman by the 
 gateway burst into tears, and this drew upon 
 her the notice of the sentry. 
 
 " There yer are now, making the woman 
 snivel, and you have .frightened her kinchins 
 too. Come," he said, " shake hands, or if yer 
 don't, I'll have to separate yer ; and surely," he 
 chuckled as he spoke, "you'd like to have one 
 last night together." 
 
 Brake, conscious all the while that his own share 
 of the trouble and bother was due only to policy 
 held out his hand, and so did Short. "After 
 
232 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 all," thought the younger man, " life was going 
 to be so short for them, unless the bullet fell to 
 one or the other, that it was not desirable to 
 dwell too much on the episode." But the other 
 remained grim and silent. 
 
 "Shake hands," said the sentry sternly, "or 
 I'll have you handcuffed." Pedder, still with 
 the bullet ballot, in his fancy (while he would 
 have given half his brief tenure of life for the 
 opportunity of thrashing one or the other) 
 thought it would be wiser to obey, and shook 
 hands. 
 
 The kindly Hawkesbury lass had been moved 
 by a thought which was as creditable to her 
 ingenuity as to her goodness of heart (while 
 of course it was distinctly wrong from the point 
 of view of a law-abiding citizen). She had 
 wished to hint, through the medium of her 
 child's frock, that they should escape. She had 
 learned in the old Windsor schoolroom from 
 Joseph Harpur, clerk, storekeeper, and school- 
 master, how to cipher and write, and with 
 infinite labour in the dusk of that Sunday 
 morning she had inscribed in coarse thread 
 upon the hem of the little frock, a simple mes- 
 sage. She had done it at imminent danger to 
 herself, for any of the women might have 
 
THE SUNDAY VIGIL 233 
 
 noticed when the soldier and gaolor were not 
 likely to do so, the addition to the embroidery. 
 She had inscribed with her needle and cotton, 
 " Break out. Three guards to-night." And 
 now her plot had failed, and the intuitions of 
 Pedder, while pointing almost to the mark, had 
 yet missed it narrowly. 
 
 When six o'clock'came, the gloom of night had 
 fallen again upon the yard. The eaves seemed 
 to cast a deeper shadow, and the murmur of 
 voices within the women's ward rumbled dis- 
 tantly, for the women could never shake oft 
 altogether the sense of what was due to Sunday. 
 The noise of the city traffic was very slight, 
 and the laughter of revellers returning by boat 
 from Goat Island, which was a favourite place 
 of resort for pleasure-loving Sydneyites, was so 
 faint in the absence of a breeze, that the gaol 
 might have been miles away from the city 
 instead of being in its heart. The quietness 
 of the time added to -the awful tension. They 
 would have been laughing and revelling among 
 themselves had it not been for the anticipation 
 of the " Ringer's " visit ; but. as it was, they knew 
 the message which was to mean life to one and 
 a double death to the other nine, might come 
 at any moment. Possibly if the row had not 
 
2 34 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 taken place in the afternoon, so severe was the 
 strain, that one or two might have lost their 
 mental balance. With' the prospect of the 
 ballot before them, there, was no desire to 
 indulge that vulgar and flippant spirit in which 
 most condemmed companies of the time, were 
 wont to pass their last vigil. Short did sob 
 hysterically for a few minutes after the retire- 
 ment of the officer who had tapped his irons, 
 and after he had received the courteous wish for 
 a good night's sleep, and a pleasant hanging on 
 the morrow ; but with an effort, he had con- 
 quered himself and had waited, with the others, 
 for the message, which at nine o'clock had not 
 come. Lights wefit out at nine from the 
 corridors, and darkness — and — hell reigned till 
 the next morning. 
 
 VI. — AT TEN O'CLOCK P.M. 
 
 The message came at last The town clock 
 in St. Philip's tower had struck ten a few 
 minutes, when, following close upon the tramp 
 of the patrol-men as they marched past the 
 gaol, there sounded the footsteps of a solitary 
 wayfarer. The watch, as they passed the gaol, 
 had exchanged " All's well " with the gaol sen- 
 tries, and following close as it did upon that 
 
AT TEN O CLOCK P.M. 235 
 
 comforting salute, the challenge, " Who goes 
 there? "of the guard at the gate opening on 
 to the street, woke the echoes completely in the 
 condemned yard. 
 
 It did more — it roused the condemned from 
 the half lethargy, half sleep, in which they had 
 passed the hour since the lights were put out. 
 Stretched in their blankets, some were prone, 
 some were supine on the flagging, all in severe 
 tension of spirit, one or two seeking in the 
 retrospect of memory for a vestige of that 
 happiness which they had always sought for 
 and which had ever evaded them. But with 
 the echoing of that solitary wayfarer's voice, 
 each man quivered and trembled, for each 
 recognised the tones and knew the message had 
 come. One by one they drew themselves up 
 noiselessly ; one by one each tore his blankets 
 into strips ; one by one each blanketed his irons 
 so that there should be no ringing of chains 
 against bazil, or clanking of link against the 
 flagged Tstone. Even in these dread moments 
 they were all subdued by a thrill of excitement 
 at the anticipation of the communication. The 
 dullest Norfolker had always been impressed by 
 the rites and ceremonial of the " Ring," by what 
 he knew of it or had heard of it, and nothing so 
 
236 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 argued the utter imbecility of the successive 
 administrators, and of the system that so far 
 from fostering and turning into rational courses 
 the imaginative sense of the prisoners, it had 
 invariably diverted into the awful and the in- 
 fernal, that it had not been crushed utterly. In 
 the expectation of the ceremony, which they all 
 inferred would occupy the next hour, they all 
 forgot for the moment the doom that awaited 
 them, or all but one of them, the next day. So 
 vital and impressive are the processes of the 
 imagination. They were to be taken out of 
 themselves ; that was the main thing, even 
 though the issue of the ceremony would drive 
 nine of them back into the very abysses of 
 despair. 
 
 At last the door swung open, and without a 
 creak scarcely, as though its hinges, its bolts, 
 the wards of its lock had been newly oiled by 
 an expert hand, and a man came in who had 
 visited them before. They knew him, because 
 this time he carried a dark lantern, with the 
 slide partly freed so that his features and his 
 features alone were visible. The aspect of that 
 half-lit face emerging from darkness into dark- 
 ness, and surrounded by darkness, was terrible 
 in its weird fearsomeness, and young Short 
 
AT TEN O CLOCK P.M. 237 
 
 could barely repress a groan. As it was, he 
 threw out his hand convulsively, and caught 
 the shoulder of the man next to him. With 
 slippered or stockinged feet (he must have 
 changed his boots in the outer room) he ap- 
 proached, not the group, but the wall of the 
 women's cell. Quietly he put his hands be- 
 tween the bars and felt there as if he expected 
 to meet, not the curtain which usually blocked 
 the aperture at night time, but an inflexible 
 substance such as a wooden or iron shutter. 
 Apparently he was satisfied the arrangement 
 he had made had been carried out, and then 
 withdrawing his hand and adjusting the lantern 
 slide till but a spot of light was visible, he drew 
 towards the group. They trembled as he came 
 near ; even Pedder trembled, so uncanny was 
 this outlined sombreness, moving amidst the 
 gloom. 
 
 " Brothers," he said, in a low tone, that yet 
 was not a whisper, as though he were now con- 
 fident that he had protected himself from any 
 audience save those whom he addressed. " Bro- 
 thers, I have brought the message of the bullet. 
 You, Short— which is Short ? Short, where are 
 you ? " 
 
 He turned. 
 
238 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 Short thrust forward his hand quietly till it 
 touched the elbow of the " Outsider." " Here," 
 Short said, "here." 
 
 " You, Short, can read. Read this." 
 
 Again the panel of the lantern was slid to 
 the space of an inch, and the streak of light fell 
 upon a piece of paper inscribed in a bold hand 
 with certain words and marked with a symbol, 
 which one and all of the " Ringers " knew as the 
 sign manual of the " One." 
 
 As he held the paper for one moment the 
 prisoners saw that he was pallid, and sweating 
 great drops of perspiration. They saw, too, 
 that utterance failed him for the moment. 
 
 " Read it." - - 
 
 With accents which shivered with their bur- 
 den of agony, Short read from the paper. He 
 did not recognise it as a symbol of the " One " 
 that was appended, but he knew that it was 
 authoritative by the imperious wording, and 
 this man never doubted, for the " Ring " never 
 deceived the prisoner. 
 
 " To our brothers of the condemned and to 
 their brothers not yet of the 'Ring.' One of you 
 can be saved, and one only. Choose ye by the 
 ballot of the bullet. At eleven o'clock let each 
 of you put his hand through the spy-hole, and 
 
AT TEN O CLOCK P.M. 239 
 
 let the order of his going be known to no one 
 save yourselves, not even to our bearer ; and 
 the one whom it pleases us well to select in a 
 darkness as of the very grave to which all of 
 you go, if not to-morrow, hereafter, he shall be 
 chosen. 
 
 " Let there be no dispute, for this is the will 
 of the ' Ring ' in the session of the ' One ' and 
 the ' Three,' and though the ' Ring's ' laws must 
 be obeyed without demand of reason or demur, 
 yet ye may be told why the choice should not 
 be made from the ' Ring ' members alone, and 
 why those outside of us shall be permitted to 
 test the ballot as well. We give no reason but 
 this, and let it suffice. It is to test your obedi- 
 ence, and your obedience only. Men go, the 
 ' Ring ' stays on ; and it is well that our dread 
 society shall know men can obey it, even to 
 their hurt and their death. 
 
 " At eleven of the clock, brothers, into the 
 hand of the one that is to be saved shall the 
 bullet be dropped, and the possession of that 
 bullet shall warrant him that the ' Ring ' fails 
 not in what it undertakes. He may not know 
 how 4ie will be saved, but he shall be saved." 
 
 In a silence like that of their own graves 
 already dug were these words read, in whisper- 
 
240 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 ing voice, and amid the falling night and in the 
 intentness of their hearing they heard no other 
 sound, not even the whimpering of children, or 
 the muttered oath of women in the adjacent 
 dormitory. Scarce heard they even the louder 
 noise of the ringing of the musket stocks as the 
 night guards changed. The reading finished, 
 the " Outsider," the " Fiver," said,— 
 
 " For this once shall the new men — the six 
 foreign to the ' Ring ' — be with us thus far. 
 They shall take the oath that if one of them 
 gain the bullet he shall be bound to us as 
 though he were our own. What do you say, 
 brothers ? " 
 
 Pedder, Blake, Drummer, and Donnell knew 
 
 clearly enough that the request for their assent 
 
 was merely formal, but each, reeling almost 
 
 from the suspense, said " Yes." Then the oath 
 
 was administered. With crossed hands each 
 
 took it, and each swore by the most impious of 
 
 impieties that, the System being what it was, 
 
 he would be its enemy and the enemy of all 
 
 who thought to subjugate it. 
 
 * * ' * * 
 
 Then he bade the six move, to the wall, and 
 
 led the four in their last " Ring " session. 1 
 
 1 For a description of the " Ring " sessions, see the 
 author's Tales of the Early Days, 
 
AN HOUR LATER 24 1 
 
 As it was conducted, the " Fiver " retired to 
 the corridor. Blake gasped, and said to Short 
 in a strident undertone, " Short, pray that you 
 may miss the bullet ; if you get the bullet you'll 
 be ' Ring ' member. Better dead ! " 
 
 VII.— AN HOUR LATER 
 
 Once more had St. Philip's clock struck, and 
 once more had the patrolling watchmen ex- 
 changed " All's well ! " with the sentries of the 
 gaol. And the Ten, with faculties tense and 
 alert, moved involuntarily as they identified the 
 sounds. The hour of ordeal had arrived. Those 
 of them who were doomed to die would face 
 death lightly, perhaps flippantly, but here was 
 the balancing of Fates — death or freedom. 
 They would have been less even than the 
 human animals they were if they could have 
 prepared for the ballot with lightness of heart. 
 ; The first dispute arose over the order of their 
 going to the door. Only the "Fiver" — the, 
 "Outsider" — knew to which man in order of pro- 
 cession would he give the bullet. It might, so 
 far as the Ten knew, be to the first — it might be 
 to the last. Really, the odds were against the 
 
 R 
 
242 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 first as much as against the tenth r and as much 
 for the sixth or seventh as for any other. Still, 
 the dullest convict had his superstitions. They 
 would all have gone third if they could. 
 
 " Go," at last, after confused whisperings that 
 merged into anger, declared Pedder, " in order 
 of age. You are the oldest, Drummer; go 
 'long. Name your ages ; no lyin' now." 
 
 No one lied. 
 
 Drummer said he was fifty-five. 
 
 Short answered next, " Nineteen ! " Lewis 
 said he was thirty-six, just over ; he had spent 
 his birthday in gaol. Hanley was forty. 
 
 " I'm in my twenty-fifth year," whispered 
 McCarthy, " and it's likely I'll not see the end 
 of it." It was a poor jest, but it told for the 
 instant. 
 
 Pedder gave his age thirty-two. " That's 
 mine, too," said Donnell ; "what month ? " 
 
 Pedder didn't know, and said so. " When 
 was Donnell born ? " 
 
 " The first of April ! " Another low chuckle. 
 
 How was that point to be settled ? It took 
 but a second to decide. In that instant Blake 
 had pulled off three buttons from his jacket. 
 (It was contract thread, and parted with readi- 
 ness.) " Here," he said, " I have two buttons in 
 
AN HOUR LATER 245 
 
 one fist and one in the other ? Who chooses ? 
 Odd or even?" 
 
 " I'll take first," said Pedder, and he felt for 
 Blake's left hand. "Odd!" 
 
 " Tis even," whispered Blake. 
 
 "Then I'll be younger 'n you, Mike," said 
 Donnell, " you can go first." And so that point 
 was got over. 
 
 Blake was twenty-five, Clyde was twenty-four, 
 and Entworth forty-one. So this was the order : 
 Drummer, Entworth, Hanley, Lewis, Pedder, 
 Donnell, Blake, Clyde, McCarthy (a month 
 younger he was than Clyde), and Short, Short 
 was the " baby." 
 
 They drew deep breaths as this first stage 
 was over. Then— 
 
 " No cokumin'," said Pedder impressively, 
 " who is given the bullet keeps it to himself. 
 He is not to say without orders. An' them 
 who do not get the bullet, well, they should die 
 game, ' Ringers ' or no ' Ringers.' They'll have 
 had their chance. Fall in ! " 
 
 They fell into line, stooping, every man of 
 them, so as to hold their irons up and save 
 clanking. Noise would have robbed the cere- 
 mony of something of its avvesomeness. And 
 they filed up slowly— so slowly. 
 
2*44 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 Tremblingly, the old man put his hand 
 through the spy-hole — which should have been 
 closed, but was open. Open by the "Ring's" 
 -orders ! 
 
 A finger-tip touched his open palm, but — no 
 bullet. And he knew the bullet was not for 
 him. 
 
 Entworth followed, and murmured as the 
 warm finger touched his icy palm. He thought 
 for the moment that he was the fortunate one. 
 For the moment only. 
 
 Hanley and Lewis went forward, and slunk 
 back into silence. Not one of the four knew 
 aught as to the others' luck or ill-luck. All he 
 knew was he was not the successful one. 
 
 Something had told the gang that Pedder 
 would win the bullet, and, indeed, though they 
 could not guess how it would be possible for 
 the " Outsider " to discern Pedder, yet they 
 feared in a vague manner that " The One " 
 might have some occult means of intimating to 
 the other. But there was no sign from Pedder 
 to indicate success or failure as he withdrew his 
 hand. 
 
 So they went on — Donnell, Blake, Clyde, 
 McCarthy, Short. Each put his hand through, 
 and each withdrew it. 
 
AN HOUR LATER 245 
 
 And one alone held the silver bullet, and he 
 was the last to protrude his hand, and the last 
 to withdraw it. Short had not prayed, and he 
 had won the bullet ! 
 
 * * * * 
 
 He did not tell them ; but they knew it, for, 
 striving to reach his corner, he stumbled, fainted, 
 and fell, something dropped with a deadened 
 sound on the flags from his hand. And then — 
 
 They had all heard it drop. There was the 
 passport to freedom — the warrant of the " One " 
 which should give the fortunate holder entrance 
 once again to the house of Life, perhaps to the 
 house of Happiness, perhaps to that of Fortune. 
 
 And there it was lying on the ground, and 
 its rightful owner fainting, powerless, defence- 
 less. 
 
 For one minute there raged in each breast 
 the infirmities of wrong, danger, and cupidity. 
 Why should not they search for the bullet and 
 the finder keep it ? 
 
 The same thought held possession of each;. 
 There was a rush, a throwing away of caution, 
 a contempt for the possibilities even of the 
 " Ring's " vengeance. They had nothing to 
 fear from the law ; but from the " Ring " the 
 bullet holder who held it wrongfully would have 
 
246 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 much. Still, they forgot the chances, and all 
 rushed to where Short's prostrate form was 
 lying. Short's life in that instant was not worth 
 a breath's purchase. 
 
 Yet he lives ! 
 
 For Blake, who though tempted, yet withheld 
 himself from yielding. He had joined in the 
 rush, but his shred of conscience rescued him 
 from what, after all, he felt to be a shame in- 
 expiable. In the same movement which had 
 propelled himself forward, he threw himself over 
 the body of the youth. 
 
 " Touch him, or the bullet," he whispered 
 hoarsely, " and I call the guard, the ' Ring ' can't 
 hurt me after to-morrow." 
 
 They halted. They receded. After all, had 
 noP -Short won the ballot fairly ? So the 
 whisper went round. 
 
 And then they came forward again, but this 
 time carefully and slowly. Each " was going to 
 be a true man to the ' Ring ' and one another." 
 They begat* to look for the bullet. 
 
 It was Pedder who found it. It had rolled 
 into the corner. " Here it is," he said, and felt 
 his way to the group which stood, a protuber- 
 ance of gloom/ amid the darkness, " and 'tis 
 wrapped in paper." 
 
AN HOUR LATER 247 
 
 " Them's his instructions," said Blake. 
 
 "Wot," murmured McCarthy, "would have 
 been the good of them to us who can't read ? " 
 
 Had it been light, Pedder would have -been 
 seen to smile. " Trust the ' Ring ' for that," he 
 said. " Pedder knew the ' Ring.' The ' Ring ' 
 could write in hieroglyphics so as to reach the 
 
 brain x>f the most ignorant. 
 
 * * « * 
 
 That, indeed, was the case. When Short 
 came to himself he found on one side of the 
 piece of paper a rough sketch of a woman in 
 prison costume. On the other, was the same 
 woman emerging from the prison door, and 
 being met by a group of sailors. That was at 
 
 four o'clock. 
 
 * * * *. 
 
 At six, they were taken into the corridor to 
 meet the chaplain and to breakfast. At eight 
 they were mustered to meet the sheriff and his 
 myrmidons, and then only was . it discovered 
 
 that there were no longer ten but nine. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 When they mounted the platform and looked 
 around for the last time they most of them 
 gazed ^towards the mass of faces which crested 
 Essex Street heights. But Pedder, he had 
 taken with that master eye of his, a compre- 
 
248 THE BULLET OF THE FATED TEN 
 
 hensive glance over the gaol. In one of those 
 remarkable intuitions which crystallize a life- 
 time of experience into the last hours of the 
 dying, he saw the whole arrangement of the 
 gaol, and understood how simple a thing it 
 would have been for the gang, once freed from 
 their irons — easy enough to do — to have con- 
 quered the garrison and the gaol. He under- 
 stood also what the message on the frock had 
 meant. 
 
 In his dying speech he did not curse the 
 crowd ; he cursed himself and his colleagues. 
 
 " Brothers," he shouted, " what fools we were ! 
 We could have jumped as easily as we stayed. 
 What fools ! What fools ! " 
 
 "It's .all right," said McCarthy, "we'll be- 
 wiser next time." 
 
 But the trap-door fell a few minutes later, and 
 no one can say whether they were wiser then. 
 
 •It W' TP ifr. - 
 
 Among the crowd which lined the height was 
 a pallid faced girl, and tightly screwed within 
 her neckerchief was a silver bullet. She had 
 been freed from gaol that morning. 
 
 THE END 
 
 Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London, 
 

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