This put an end to flogging, for the residents of the town commenced to talk about it. But the place did not seem to thrive, for as soon as the Government men had gone, and no more were coming, things were on a downward move. There was no more convict labor; no more fashionable balls and parties; no more cases of wines, spirits, and beers—nay, it was all bread, meat, and tea, and lucky these tyrannous wretches were if they could get that, for they had to "look ere they leaped" too far, lest they should fall.
Some of the flash officials lived at the rate of about £500 a year, but as soon as the prisoners were removed their harvest was finished, and it was as much as they could do to keep the bailiff out. It was not, "Go on, you rascal, or I'll take you to court," then; but if they wanted a man to work they had to pay him wages. And although employers were supposed to pay men wages, they soon adopted another method of doing them out of their earnings. This was done by hiring men for six months, and, just before their term had expired, find some fault with them, take them to court, and get their agreement cancelled and their pay stopped. So it will be seen that use had bred such habits in them that it was hard to discontinue bringing the men to court. However, this did not bring back the beer and wine; a store account would soon be upon them for the necessaries of life, and if this were not paid within a reasonable time there would soon be a bailiff from Sydney. Thus they found out the loss of the poor prisoners, whom they treated worse than most men treat a dog, and it eventually ended in selling off their cattle and horses for what they would bring.
[CHAPTER IX.]
"Specials" and Others.
"Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time."
—Shakespeare.
It was not often that any of the "Specials" were sent out to work as farm labourers, because they were suited for anything but hard work; so they were generally made constables. Conspicuous amongst these was a man named Fred ——, who, it was said, forged the largest cheque which had been forged on the Bank of England up to that time. This was a well-educated man. He could read and write French, Spanish, and Portuguese, and had once been interpreter for the Court of India. He had not been in the country long before forgery commenced to worry him again. For this, a sentence of two years in the Port Macquarie Iron Gang was given him, and he became the worst man in it, for he fretted. When a man gave way to the hardship, he became the victim of insects, and this was the case with him. Small wonder at any man giving way to the hardship in such a place, for it was nothing but hard work, hunger, and flogging, the floor to sleep on, and one blanket as a covering. After this man had finished his two years in the Iron Gang, he was sent to a road party for about six months, and then became a constable on a salary of 3s 3d per day. While a constable he wrote to his father, who was a shareholder in a coal mine at Newcastle-on-Tyne, England, and received a reply to the effect that if he could get good characters from the Police Magistrate and a clergyman, he would endeavour to get him his freedom. Besides this, his father sent him £1 per week, which with his salary, amounted to nearly £2 weekly; but here the pen and ink was introduced again, and he forged the very man's name who was paying him the £1 per week. He was then locked up, tried, and committed, finally being sentenced to Norfolk Island for life. This ended his career in Port Macquarie.
Punishment appeared to be no warning to some of these men, and it seemed that 'just as the twig was bent, the tree inclined.' The misery that this fellow suffered the second time he was committed should have been quite sufficient, for most of those who had a taste of the Iron Gang did not return to it any more. It must have been severe when the authorities sent Charles —— from Sydney into the Gang for 12 months, as punishment for the murder of M——, on the Hunter River, and afterwards burning him to ashes. In this case there was no evidence except the murderer's own word, but they declined to hang him on that, both in this country and in England. He was as quiet as a sheep in the Gang, but, notwithstanding this fact, the boss took good care to keep out of his way.
L—— was a Jew, and a very old hand in the country. Originally he was sent to Moreton Bay, but having found Captain ——, who was killed by the blacks there, he was shifted to Sydney, and was practically a free man at that place. But he could not keep out of trouble, and for an offence was sent to a road party in Port Macquarie, from which he did not get his liberty for about 22 years, and when it did come, the news was too late. He was working in a party on the road leading from the coast to the table-land (the New England Road) when his ticket-of-leave became due, but a few minutes before the news of his freedom arrived, he was killed by a log rolling on him, and was buried in the vicinity of the camp. His fellow-workmen cut a stone and erected it on his grave, as he was very much liked by all the men on the road, but someone afterwards removed the stone and used it for grinding purposes. Every day, as soon as this poor fellow had finished his work, he would retire to his bunk and sit with a needle and thread making cabbage-tree hats. These hats were always saleable, and making them was the only means by which a man could earn a few pence to buy tea, sugar, and tobacco.
Tom P—— was one of the first men sent to Port Macquarie when it was made a Settlement, and he was a most peculiar individual. Pigs seemed to be his whole existence, for he appeared to love these animals. He possessed some 'grunters' nine or ten years old, besides cattle and horses. Tom used to sleep with the pigs, and even with this precaution against thieves it was not infrequent that he lost one. Teddy H—— went out to Tom's abode one night and stole a pig. When he returned another fellow went for one. While the second thief was in the act, however, of getting his pig, Tom sat up amongst them, and said, "How many more of you are coming to-night?" But they earned these pigs, for they had to carry them about a mile. Anyone who saw Teddy the next morning after this could swear that he had made a rise—for he had such a corporation—and it was then a password among the men, "Hulloa! Teddy made a rise last night." Then they said to Teddy, "Have you got any more for to-morrow, Ted? Perhaps you could give us a leg!"