The "Rosetta Joseph."

"Flung from the rock, on Ocean's foam to sail
Where'er the surge may sweep, the tempest's breath prevail."

—Byron.

On a sunny summer's day, in the year 1850, three little girls were playing on the green slopes overlooking the sea at Port Macquarie. "Look!" said one of them to her playmates, "what are those little dots out on the sea?" All three now stood in amazement, watching the little specs which were being wafted nearer and nearer as each emerald wave of the ocean hurried onward to its destination—the shore. They were not specs very long; it was soon discernible that they were boats, but who were the occupants? This was a question yet to be solved. The pilot boat went off, but the people in the other boats bore such a rough appearance that the pilot was almost afraid to go near them. At last a member of the pilot's crew recognised one of the men in the strange boats, and they then proceeded to go alongside. A tale of shipwreck was now related. It transpired that some time previously one of the shipwrecked crew had left Port Macquarie for the Californian goldfields, whither there was a general rush from most parts of the world. Now he was returning, but not under very auspicious circumstances.

The fact was that the barque "Rosetta Joseph" had left San Francisco about the 15th October, 1850, bound for Sydney. All went well with her until the 2nd day of December following, when to the dismay of all on board, the ill-fated vessel struck upon a reef, known as the "Elizabeth Reef," at 11 o'clock on a Sunday night. There was no hope of saving the ship. The passengers, captain, and crew managed to leave the wreck by means of the boats, and 48 souls in all left the vessel, 32 being in the largest boat, and 16 in a smaller one—the third and smallest boat being used as a sea-anchor. A course was then steered for Port Macquarie, and after eight days and nine nights their destination was safely reached on the 11th December, when they landed at a spot known as Boat Harbour. This object was not accomplished, however, without the usual adventures of the sea. Two gales were encountered while in the boats, and it was during the first of these gales, in the open sea, that the third boat was made into a sea-anchor, and they then lay-to till the weather abated. The second gale arose when the boats had made the coast, and were off a spot known as Point Plomer, near Port Macquarie. Here they again lay-to, but were driven to the south, the next place that land was sighted being off the Camden Haven river. From this place they steered north towards Tacking Point, as some of those on board, from previous experience of the coast, knew where they were. On arrival at the Boat Harbour, the boats being too large to enter, the pilot boat brought a few of the shipwrecked persons in at a time till they were all safely landed.

The experience at sea was a perilous one, and those in the boats suffered terribly from exposure. At one time it was thought that the second largest boat and its occupants were lost. A huge wave swept over her, and for a short time she seemed swallowed up, but a few seconds later she reappeared on the crest of another wave, the occupants being engaged in bailing water for their lives. A box of gold valued at £30,000 was put into the largest boat on leaving the ship, but when the first gale was encountered it had to be jettisoned, as well as all the passengers' clothes, with the exception of what they wore, in order to lighten the boat. There was only a limited supply of food in the boats, too, and a small quantity of this, together with a cup of water, was served out to each person every day, because they did not know how long it would be before land was sighted. So that besides losing the gold, the food supply in the boats was none too large.

[CHAPTER XVII.]
Escape of Prisoners.

"Liberty's in every blow!
Let us do or die."

—Burns.

After the convicts left Port Macquarie, the gaol was made a kind of relieving place for other gaols in the colony which became overcrowded, and at times there were a good many prisoners within its walls. About the year 1866, six prisoners who were evidently full of being shut up in the large brick structure overlooking the Pacific ocean, were successful in making their escape. This they accomplished by digging a hole in the wall with a piece of an old knife, the work extending over a period of several weeks. The floor of the gaol was not right on the ground, but built up somewhat, and therefore an aperture existed between it and the ground. A flooring board used to be removed underneath one of the beds, and only one man worked at a time, being relieved by another when he had done his quota. It was one morning about daylight that these six men made their escape, and proceeded along the Old Lake road (which leads from Port Macquarie to Lake Innes), removing the leg irons which they wore as soon as the bush was reached. They walked along the road one behind the other, leaving a track which appeared as though only one man had traversed the road. Arriving at Lake Innes they secured breakfast, and sought firearms, but the residents at the Lake at that time (not Major Innes) told the prisoners that they possessed no guns. The six men were afterwards seated on a log eating their breakfast when a Port Macquarie citizen, who had heard of their escape, galloped to Lake Innes and fired a gun over the runaways' heads. This naturally had the effect of scattering them, and they proceeded further south to the Green Hills, near the Camden Haven river, and hid in ambush.

Whilst all this had been going on, the police were informed of their escape, and went in search of the men. They, however, did not effect a capture, although the prisoners saw them go past while they lay hidden in the bush, and they returned unsuccessful.

In crossing Kathie Creek, which lies to the south between Port Macquarie and the Green Hills, one of the escapees was stung by a stingray, and he in company with another afterwards gave themselves up to the authorities. The other men were captured by the police on the New England road, about 20 miles from Port Macquarie.

[CHAPTER XVIII.]
A LAST WORD.

"Man's inhumanity to man
Makes countless thousands mourn."

—Burns.

Such was the life in Old Port Macquarie. But what does it all matter now? Did any of the tyrants ever derive any benefit by hounding down and torturing their fellow men? Nay! most of those whose career I have followed did no good, while some died like dogs. They say that there is punishment for doers of harsh deeds this side of the grave, and if ever this fact were realised, it was by many of those heartless wretches who gloried in driving their subordinates to desperation day by day. Thank Heaven I have lived all this down, and although "declined into the vale of years," still I am glad to know and say that there yet remains a gleam of sunshine, as there is a silver lining to every cloud, for me to enjoy in my latter days.

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