The Life and Experiences of an Ex-Convict in Port Macquarie — John Shaqi
The Life and Experiences of an Ex-Convict in Port MacquarieWoomera
History
The Life and Experiences of an Ex-Convict in Port Macquarie
Woomera
Penal colonies -- Australia -- New South Wales; Prisoners -- Australia -- New South Wales -- Biography; Woomera, 1817-1900
Who should I see there, however, but the man that should have been at
work with me, and another fellow. They had just gone up to the house
and informed that I was a culprit. One of these two was to get his
freedom a few days later, and he evidently thought that £5 reward would
be very nice to have a spree on, no matter what an innocent man might
suffer. The other man and I were taken to Port Macquarie in a cart, and
brought before the Bench. The informer was as deaf as a post, but the
magistrate said that although the man could not hear him, he could tell
what he said by the quiver of the magistrate's lips. And so we got six
months added to our former sentence.
On Sundays church was held at the Lake, and Mrs. ---- used to preach.
I was sent for one morning to go to church, so I blackened myself and
went up without a shirt. The boss met me on the way up, and asked,
"Where are you going to?" "Well," I said, "I'm going to chapel." "Do
you think you are going to chapel without a shirt?" he continued. "My
shirt is out on the fence drying," I answered. "Then go on back again,
and don't come up in that plight any more." This was all I wanted; the
church did not trouble me.
During my term here my eyesight became bad again--it never had been
very good from the time that I had sandy blight some years before--and
it got that way at last that it was almost impossible for me to see.
The life there was not improving it, either, so I informed the boss,
and after a little conversation he gave me two letters--one to the
Police Magistrate in the town, and the other to the doctor. I started
off with the letters, not knowing what was in them, for my sight
was too bad to read; but on the way in I met someone who could, and
soon got over the difficulty. The letter to the P.M. came first, and
ran thus: "Dear ----, Inflict some severe punishment on this man and
return him to me at once, for I cannot get him to work." The other one
to the doctor was just asking him to have a look at my eyes, and do
what he could to them. Now it was not very likely that I was going to
take a note to the Magistrate to perhaps get "50" over it, so without
hesitation I tore it up, and went down to the doctor, whom I did not
fear, and knew to be a good man. He read the letter, looked at my eyes,
and then said: "Well, if you want to see you can; and if you don't want
to see you can go about with the blind mob." So I decided to give the
"blind mob" a trial.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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