VII.—REPTON, THE CONVICT.
t was the last day of the Winter Assize, in the year 1805, and a long row of prisoners stood in the dock of the court to receive the sentence of death.
Sixteen men to be hanged! It seems quite incredible now, but a hundred years ago the death sentence was given indiscriminately for offences of all sorts, some so trivial as hardly to deserve the name. For instance, the man of sixty, who stood first in the dock, had snatched a ham from a shop-door, to take to some starving children at home; and the country lad of some eighteen years or less, at the other end of the row, had set fire to a rick—it was an accident, it is true, but a quantity of hay had been burnt; the jury found him 'guilty,' and he was to be hanged with the rest.
Poor lad! The judge's words fell on his ear like strokes of a heavy hammer. Surely they could not be meant for him! It was but a few days ago that he had been a happy, careless lad, shouting and laughing over a bonfire in which he and some friends were to roast potatoes. A high wind got up suddenly, and some sparks from their fire were carried to a hay-rick at some little distance, and at once there was a blaze!
The other lads slunk away, terrified at the mishap, but this lad, Repton by name, ran up, and tried to stamp out the flames, and so was taken 'red-handed,' as the angry farmer expressed it, and was there and then lodged in the county jail.
And now he was to die! He sat in a corner of the dark underground room, dazed and miserable, whilst the men round him, sentenced like himself, were talking and laughing, and trying by these means to put away the thought of their fate. But Repton was stupefied with anguish, till at last merciful sleep overcame him.
He was roused next morning by the jailor, who said, roughly enough, 'You've escaped the gallows this time, lad. A reprieve has come for you.'
'Am I free? Can I go home?' asked the lad eagerly, not understanding the man's words.
The jailor burst out laughing. 'Free! What are you thinking of? Folks can't burn ricks, and be free. You are to be transported to Botany Bay for ten years, and then you will be free.'
The six months which Repton had to pass on the hulks at Sheerness among scenes of wickedness and brutality seemed afterwards like a bad dream, and the lad prayed—oh, so earnestly!—to be kept from the evil which surrounded him. Then came the day when, chained two and two, he and his companions were marched through the streets and shipped on board the Neptune, as unseaworthy a craft as ever sailed the ocean, but thought good enough for convicts.
However, the Neptune did not sink; but she took nearly a year to reach her destination, and the convicts, stowed together in the hold, suffered torments from heat and thirst in the tropics. Then small-pox broke out amongst them, and many died; the rest were more like skeletons than living men, when the Neptune at last cast anchor in Botany Bay. Here the men had to work on Government buildings, and at night were locked up in barracks, hardly more roomy or airy than the hold of the old Neptune.
Most of the convicts did as little work, and gave as much trouble as they dared, and nothing but fear of the overseer kept them from open mutiny. At last, finding the overseer alone one day, and for once unarmed, two or three of the worst convicts set upon him, and would have murdered him, if Repton had not stood by him and helped him till assistance came to overpower the mutineers.
The overseer did not forget this act of Repton's, and next time one of the merchants came to the barracks to choose a servant from among the convicts (as was then the custom), he recommended the lad for the coveted post.
Now, indeed, Repton felt almost happy for the first time since his conviction. He was still a convict, it is true, and might be flogged at his master's will, or be sent back to the convict barracks, if he misconducted himself in any way. But, for the moment, he was actually free; he lived in a little shed of his own next the stable, and groomed the horses as a free man; and the relief of no longer being herded with wicked men, day and night, was too great for words.
Repton loved horses, too, and took such care of his master's beautiful mare, and the little girl's pony, that there never was any fault to be found with him. As the months went on, he was trusted more and more by both master and mistress, and treated more like a humble friend than a despised convict.
Those were lawless days in the Colony; convicts were constantly escaping into the bush, where they lived as they could—often venturing out to rob houses, or attacking and plundering, sometimes even murdering, solitary travellers.
Mr. Edmonds, Repton's master, had a house in a somewhat lonely position, half-a-mile or more from any neighbour. He was, however, a man prepared for all emergencies, and, as he was known to be well provided with fire-arms, and not afraid to use them, his house had hitherto been left unmolested.
One night, however—a dark, stormy night—Repton was roused by the sound of steel grating against something. Listening more intently, he heard whispers, and finally came to the conclusion that men were trying to force open the house-door. Then it suddenly flashed into Repton's mind that Mr. Edmonds had been summoned hastily away that very evening by a message from a sick friend on the other side of the town, and there was no one in the house but a young nursemaid to protect the mistress and her little girl.
Hastily flinging on his clothes, he crept up in the darkness, and, getting behind the two men, who had by this time almost forced the door, he felled one of them to the ground with a well-aimed blow. The other, however, turned savagely on Repton, and the two were soon locked in fight. The burglar was, however, the heavier man of the two, and things were going badly for Repton, whose strength was all but exhausted, when the welcome sound of horses' hoofs was heard, and Mr. Edmonds came galloping up.
'Help, help, master!' cried Repton. 'Here, I cannot hold him much longer!'
Mr. Edmonds sprang from his horse, and came to him, and, with the lad's help, both burglars were bound hand and foot, and left in an outhouse till the police could fetch them away.
Then Repton's turn came, and his master shook him by the hand, convict though he was, and thanked him for his bravery, and he was taken indoors, where Mrs. Repton with her own hands brought some soothing lotion to bathe his wounds.
Nor was this the end. Mr. Edmonds, who had great influence with the Governor, obtained in time a free pardon for Repton, and set him up in business, and now some of the most respected families in Australia are the descendants of Repton the Convict.
"The two were soon locked in fight."
"Soon all three were scooping up handfuls of cartridges."
AFLOAT ON THE DOGGER BANK.
A Story of Adventure on the North Sea and in China.