the punishments. In a few cases extreme measures were taken—convicts were tumbled into Eternity through a trap-door. The populace could witness the hanging. Sometimes convicts were scourged; the extreme number of lashes at one time was one hundred. The culprit was tied to a triangle, by arms, legs, back, neck, so that he could not crouch or escape the dreaded whipping. The hardest man was made to plead for pity like a little child; the cat-o'-nine-tails descended with dreadful certainty. At the close the convict was laid on his stomach, his raw flesh quivering, his whole body shaking with involuntary shuddering. In a few days the back might be covered with repulsive festering wounds.
The dark cell was occasionally as much feared as the cat-o'-nine-tails. Night and day were much alike. The convict could hold as many monologues as he wished with the dim four walls of his cell. The braggart, whose life was dominated by a brutal nature, whose ordinary conduct suggested little of the coward, whimpered and prayed for a little light. The cat-o'-nine-tails and the dark cell made him as temporarily willing and obedient as a dog. The diet of bread and water usually accompanied the latter punishment.
The sight of chained men appealed to every person. The dangerous and most reprehensible were fettered. The weight of the chains was sometimes twenty-eight pounds; a blacksmith clasped them on with strong rivets. A convict wore his chains for months and months together, night and day. If he shifted his feet while asleep the links clanked. It was difficult to walk with ease; it seemed impossible to strike off the rude ironbands, but convicts occasionally did so. To the listener, the clank of fetters as the chain-gang passed by was the most distressful feature of the convict system. The approach to the Convict Establishment at Fremantle often rang with their jangle. Truly, in respect of punishments, the convict brotherhood was grotesque.
But while punishment was necessarily severe, numerous privileges were allowed in Western Australia. More liberty was permitted in communion inside and in converse with visitors. The subsequent narrative shows where the liberty lay. Lectures were delivered periodically; a library supplied reading matter. In May, 1857, Governor Kennedy and a select party of ladies and gentlemen visited the Convict Establishment at Fremantle to hear a convict lecture on music. The lecture was illustrated by the prison choir. The lecturer, who was organist of the chapel, delivered a well-worded eulogy on the Governor, who expressed his gratification. One or two convicts were artists in their way; excellent paintings hung on the prison walls; one man drew sketches of Perth and Fremantle.
After periods of apprenticeship at the Establishment, convicts were drafted off to country depots and road parties. The Comptroller-General sought to disperse them as much as possible so as to give them the better opportunity of retrieving their characters. The system at the various depots was similar to that at Fremantle. The men in the depot were engaged on public works in its vicinity.
Road parties supplied the most romantic features of the convict system. Those men who conducted themselves best, and were able-bodied, were transferred to road works. The routine was not so strict, and the privileges were more numerous. The party consisted of from twenty to fifty men, under the care of, one and never more than two warders. In 1853 the custom was initiated of making certain prisoners constables. It was a much-desired privilege given to men of conduct; it enabled them to work out their redemption with the greatest possible speed. These constables usually accompanied the road parties. One free man, assisted by a convict constable, was repeatedly required to keep in check from twenty to fifty men whose crimes it is sad to think of. He very seldom had difficulty. The dreary "natural prison" did not lend encouragement to the escapee and murderer. Road parties were exclusively engaged in making roads and bridges. Although many miles from any homestead, the warder, practically at their mercy, carried no weapon in his hand. He might have a revolver in his pocket, but the probabilities were that he had left it in his bush hut.
A married warder was usually told off for this work; his wife and family accompanied him. The female may be thought to have been in a dangerous situation, yet, except where she was distinctly to blame, she was in nowise molested. Indeed, she often supplied the greatest security for the good conduct of the men. Her kindness and patient spirit made up for any harshness in her husband. She pleaded the cause of the convicts. The unmarried warder was apt to develop a melancholy spirit. Prevented by the regulations and his own safety from becoming familiar with the convicts, he lived for weeks and months within himself. The result was, too often, unhealthy and depressing. Cases are chronicled where road parties went into the bush without a warder at all. Magistrates, doctors, ministers, and superintendents visited the road parties periodically.
When provisions and equipment were secured for the convicts they marched from the depot to an advanced position on the road. After the particular location was reached they housed themselves in brushwood huts of different shapes and sizes; but if the work was of a temporary character, they went under canvas. In some cases the warder drew a circular line around the camp beyond which the convicts must not go after certain hours. The men went out to their work daily; the rations were here more liberal, and the regulations lax. Kangaroo and emu often supplied a relished meal. Nothing disturbed the silence but cockatoos and parrots. If a wayfarer were proceeding through the bush he suddenly came upon these huts. If it be evening an array of pannikins and tins was spread on the grass; a "billy" (kettle) hung over a large fire before the camp. The convicts stood round waiting for their meal. In that remote place might be a London clerk or tailor, a forger who had lived in good society, a burglar, and a footpad. They were better off there than free in London, or immured in Portland and Parkhurst prisons. When the meal was eaten they sat around the fire, their faces radiating twixt gloom and light; may be the "cockney" clerk told a story of bygone days in London. A tame cockatoo lolled its head to one side and sleepily surveyed the group; a domestic opossum rested carelessly on a shrub, or scurried about its human friends.
If any accident occurred a convict was sent to report the circumstance. If one of them became refractory he was taken to the nearest depot by the warder or courier constable. Often he was sent alone; he knew best that it was not advisable to run away. His crime was mentioned on his papers. If provisions were required convict or officer proceeded to the depot. Sometimes apparent opportunity overcame him, and the convict planned an escape; he generally chose the winter, when the bush contained ample water. An alternative confronted him: severe punishment if captured, death by hunger or exposure in the bush. He cherished the idea that he might succeed. First he sought some lonely house to rid himself of the prison dress. He seized what he wanted, and searched closely for firearms; he might require them. Free convicts assisted him. Occasionally, but very occasionally, he murdered; oftener the gun was used merely to frighten people into giving him food or
