

### Sophia Grantham

### also known as

### Kezia Tregilgus

by Barry Allan

Copyright 2012 Barry Allan

Smashwords Edition

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Author's Note

This is the story of English woman Sophia Grantham who was known after her marriage as Kezia Tregilgus. She started out on a farm in Cheshire, and was transported as a convict to Van Diemen's Land in 1841 before she was 20 years old. After her release from prison she and her husband were pioneers during the early years of settlement of central Queensland, until her death at age 52.

The first edition of this book was published in print in 2006, and was launched during the celebrations of the 150th anniversary of the founding of Taroom. That book brought out some additional information about her life, and due to ongoing interest in Sophia's story an updated print edition was published in 2009.

More online digitised newspapers have become available recently and many more facts have been found using electronic searches, which may never have been found by reading the newspapers. For example after arriving in Sydney from New Zealand in 1854 the Tregilguses briefly lived at Grafton before moving on to Queensland, and after arriving in Rockhampton in 1863 they appear in court each year for various reasons. From the timing of these events it is certain that the family story of their trip to America as told in the print editions was wrong, although they may have told everyone they were going so as to escape creditors.

Rather than reprinting again, the story has been re-formatted into an ebook with all the latest additions included, and made available free. Any later updates can now be easily added.

My thanks go to the other family researchers who shared the information they found, and without whose help this story would be far less complete. In particular Judy Simpson who had many years ago done the original research that was passed to me by Mason Eyles and Marie Goodwin. Mason and Ian Bell added more of their own work, and that started me off on my own research journey to flesh out the details. Sylvia Schwede sent me the first picture I had seen of the Rajah Quilt, along with newspaper reports of the Frazer and Cullin la Ringo massacres. Then as the first book was nearly finished, Christine Rush and her sister Susan Marshall found the previously unknown records of 'Handspike Jack' Tregilgus in Tasmania, and of his son's death in Victoria.

The major events described here all actually happened and where full dates are mentioned they are true, but where the details or timing of real events are uncertain, I have made assumptions based on my research into historical events taking place at the time. The book is as close to biographical as possible, given the 150 or so intervening years, and is intended at least to convey a sense of her life and times.

Barry Allan

2012

### Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1-The Farm

Chapter 2-The Manor

Chapter 3-Larceny

Chapter 4-Gaol

Chapter 5-The Pin

Chapter 6-Millbank

Chapter 7-The Hulk

Chapter 8-Hope

Chapter 9-The Rajah

Chapter 10-The Voyage

Chapter 11-Van Diemen's land

Chapter 12-The Factory

Chapter 13-Assignment

Chapter 14-On the Town

Chapter 15-Ticket of Leave

Chapter 16-John Tregilgus

Chapter 17-The Schooner

Chapter 18-The Trousers

Chapter 19-A Fresh Start

Chapter 20-Grafton

Chapter 21-Overland

Chapter 22-The Dawson

Chapter 23-The Leichhardt

Chapter 24-The Planet

Chapter 25-Rockhampton

Chapter 26-The Cornish

Chapter 27-The Affluent Years

Epilogue

# Prologue

The swaying motion of the wagon that had lulled the frail woman to sleep was violently interrupted as it lurched over a rock in the dry creek bed. John Tregilgus urged the horses on to pull the wagon up the opposite bank, then looked around and cursed quietly as he noticed Kezia stir. His wife's once robust body had shrunk to little more than skin and bone in the past year, and as she lay wrapped in a blanket among their few remaining possessions in the back of the wagon, he knew that there could be little time left for her. Perhaps six months the doctor had told him just before they set out.

He had wanted her to sleep for as long as possible today, because the last two nights had been sleepless for both of them. She had had fits of delirium during which she tossed and babbled incoherently and John had stayed awake to make sure she didn't hurt herself. Now it was mid-morning, but the late August air was cold and there was still some ground fog amongst the trees on either side of the track, as the straining horses hauled the wagon on to level ground.

Kezia's fits had become longer and more frequent as her illness progressed, and they both knew she would soon die from her disease. In fact the doctors she had consulted over the years had never been able to help, and living half her life with the knowledge of what was going to happen had prematurely aged her beyond her 52 years. Nevertheless she was well past feeling any self pity over her looming death, since she had brought all of the bad events throughout her life, including this illness, upon herself, and had come to terms with it. John knew he could do nothing but try to look after her, and wondered how he would cope with the final few months when she would become completely insane.

They were travelling on a dirt track about 60 miles south-west of Rockhampton in central Queensland that closely followed the route that Ludwig Leichhardt had explored in 1847. It had become a busy roadway in 1857 after word filtered south that gold had been discovered at Canoona near the central Queensland coast. The only access to the diggings was either by sea, or over this inland route from Brisbane, through Ipswich, Toowoomba and Taroom, because the coast road terminated at Gladstone.

The Canoona rush was short-lived, but the population explosion had caused the rapid expansion of a tiny settlement already established on the banks of the Fitzroy River, which became Rockhampton. After the rush died out, sheep and cattle stations flourished, land was opened up for sale, and the population steadily increased. Even now, in 1872, this track was still a major route from Brisbane to far northern Queensland gold mines at Peak Downs and Charters Towers, because the coast road still only went as far as Rockhampton.

John and Kezia Tregilgus had passed this way heading to Rockhampton back in 1863 when they had ambitions to own a grand hotel. Now, nine tumultuous years later they had spent all of their accumulated money, had packed up and left their Rockhampton hotel, and were heading back to Rolleston to see their daughter and the grandchildren before it was too late.

After two days on the track the horses were starting to tire of their task pulling this wagon loaded with the boxes of clothing and items of furniture that now amounted to the sum total of their possessions. John reined in the horses for a rest and a drink of the water he had brought with them in the keg that he had kept after he and Kezia left the hotel. There was very little natural water along this track for most of each year, and it was prudent to carry your own.

Their liquor licence was renewable on the 1st of July each year, but for the past few years Kezia's illness had flared to the point that she was incapable of looking after herself, and John could not run a hotel and look after her as well. There had been plenty of people eager to take over the lucrative business, and the lease changed hands quickly, ending their 15 years as hoteliers. There was little money left after buying the wagon and horses, and John thought that perhaps in the future he might be able to start again somewhere, but he knew there were tough times ahead before that could happen.

Rolleston was still at least three days away, and Kezia was looking forward to seeing Ruth again, along with the five grandchildren, some of whom she had never seen. Ruth was only 16 when she married Tom Eyles and their two families founded the town in 1862. Then Tom and Ruth had stayed there when John and Kezia moved to Rockhampton. Apart from occasional visits and letters over the years there had been little contact between them. Ruth was now pregnant again, with her sixth child due in about six months time.

Watching from the wagon as her husband watered the horses, Kezia felt a little better today than she had for some time, her mind clearer and more aware of her surroundings. She looked at the fog enshrouded trees all around, and the sight of the grey mist stirred memories that she had left buried in the far recesses of her subconscious for many years. Laying back and pulling the blanket tighter around her frail body, she allowed her thoughts to drift and found herself reliving those memories in vivid detail as her mind tried to escape the pain and reality of the present.

There was her happy early childhood in England when she had a different name, her girlish hopes for a future that should have made her rich, her disappointment as she grew old enough to see that her dreams would not come to pass, and the very different life that she lived from the one she had imagined. Even her husband didn't know the full story of her life, just the edited version she had told him when they decided to get married just before her release from prison.

It had all started so long ago.

# Chapter 1

# The Farm

A cold misty early morning drizzle enveloping the gently rolling fields heralded the beginning of another of 12 year old Sophia Grantham's working days. A few well-conditioned dairy cows meandered into the shed for Sophia to milk while her father George prepared to work in the fields, either plowing or tending crops depending on the season. Sophia had been doing this work on the farm before and after school until she had to leave two years ago at the age of 10. Her days now were spent milking, feeding the chickens and collecting a few eggs, then helping her mother Hannah in the house and learning how to make bonnets that could be sold to augment the family's small but adequate income. Their three-roomed cottage with its thatched roof contained no luxuries, but it was warm and dry. There was plenty of food to eat, and they were much better off than many people in urban areas who could hardly afford food. The so-called Corn Laws that had been in force since the Napoleonic War held the price of crops artificially high and should have made farmers rich, but most of the cash made from the sale of their crops was spent on their exorbitant farm leases.

The year was 1833 and the Grantham farm was one of many small plots of just a few acres near the township of Hale in northern Cheshire. The district produced mixed crops and dairy products, and was lately rapidly expanding into cotton to feed the mills in nearby Manchester as that city established itself as the largest producer of fabric in England. The countryside around Hale was dotted with large Manor houses owned by the aristocracy. Many of them were occupied by their owners, but some were let to well off businessmen, who could afford the substantial rents. They were all set in spacious grounds, originally granted by William the Conqueror to his lieutenants, and passed down to their descendants throughout the 750 years since. The original houses were constructed of black and white timber, which was plentiful in the region, but later, many of those were replaced with brick and stone constructions. Some of these were then further added to and expanded into what most common people thought of as castles. The Manor owners employed large numbers of local people as servants, and collected rents from farmers like George Grantham who leased part of their land to farm.

George and Hannah had lived here since they were married, and had now produced five children, the latest additions just a year ago being twins. Sophia, the eldest child, was expected to carry a fair share of the work around the farm until her younger brother was old enough to do some of the heavier work outside. There had been trouble in the farming industry in England in recent years as new machinery was introduced that revolutionized the way farms and many other industries were run. Riots had occurred daily throughout southern counties as farm laborers rebelled against the unemployment caused by mechanization and the resulting reduction in wages that came with the labor glut. The Grantham farm was not directly affected by the riots, but demand for their products was reduced and their income was affected. So the few extra shillings from the sale of a bonnet here and there then became essential to maintain their former comfortable lifestyle.

Sophia had liked going to school in the village, and had been a good student. She was considered brighter than average with a special aptitude for arithmetic. She liked geography too, and spent hours daydreaming about the far off places that were shown on the world map in her classroom. Newspaper reports of exploration and discoveries made by pioneering people in far off America and Australia further fired her imagination and desire to leave her small world, and to experience new adventures. She had never travelled more than a few miles from the farm, accompanying her father as he carted his produce to the markets in the larger towns. Altrincham was a mile from the farm, and Knutsford was five miles away.

Her parents had decided that she had to leave school to allow her younger siblings the chance for a basic education that was not always available to children in 19th century England. Education for girls wasn't that necessary anyway, since most became servants of one sort or another until they married a man to provide for them. Sophia didn't begrudge her siblings their opportunity for an education, but it meant that she was sentenced to a life of domestic servitude unless she could somehow marry a man with some wealth or standing in the community. She considered other ways to improve her position, and it occurred to her to change her old fashioned name. Sophia hated her name, and decided that something more modern might enhance her prospects, or at least make her feel better. But since everyone around the district knew her as Sophia, her name change would have to await new surroundings. So now at the age of 12, Sophia had developed a strong desire to improve her social position, but was still too young to understand that, due to the prevailing social conventions of the time, her ambitions were unlikely to be fulfilled.

During the years since leaving school, young Sophia had become quite good at sewing and even designing bonnets and hats. She often attempted more sophisticated styles favoured by the ladies of higher station, using leftover fabric, and feathers from the hen house. She wore them around the house and asked her mother what she thought of them. These attempts at self improvement were met with encouraging responses from Hannah, who recognized Sophia's intelligence and self esteem, and wanted to help her maintain her dream for as long as possible. However, one day as Sophia displayed yet another gaudy hat that she had concocted from leftovers, she decided that Sophia was old enough to understand some harsh truths. She sat Sophia down to explain the realities of life to her.

'Sophia, we are working class people, and the idea that you can somehow cross over into the upper classes is, I'm sorry to say, a dream that will never become reality.' There was sadness in her voice as she recalled years ago having similar ambitions for herself. Hannah frowned slightly and then brightened as she decided to adopt a positive tone. 'We are better off than many people, with enough to eat, and able to educate you children. You should make the best of your talents as a bonnet maker, and I'm sure that one day a nice man will come along and you will be happy raising a family. Be satisfied with your lot my dear, and you will have a fulfilling life.'

Sophia thought for a moment, pondering the prospect of domestic life compared with her dreams of wealth and travel to far off places. Seeing her mother waiting for a response to her conservative, but realistic view of life, she said, 'But mother, if I married a nobleman I could buy dresses and bonnets and ride to London in my own carriage and....'. Seeing the sadness return to her mother's face she stopped. She had always listened to her mother's advice, but this time it just didn't fit Sophia's ambition. Nevertheless, she would not hurt her feelings by arguing. 'Alright, I'll do my best to be the best bonnet maker I can be.' The crying of one of the twins interrupted their thoughts and Hannah rose to go to the baby.

'Sophia, there is nothing wrong with wanting the best, but always remember that others will not see you as anything other than a working class woman.'

Sophia replayed her mother's words over and over in her mind for days as she went about her work, but could not believe that it was impossible to improve her circumstances. She examined herself in the mirror to assess the attributes that might attract a handsome rich suitor. But alas, a critical evaluation of her appearance was not encouraging. She was of average height for her age, and expected that soon she would probably reach the normal adult female height of around 5 feet, but she was somewhat plump, and bulky linen clothing did nothing to enhance her shape. Her face was round and rather plain, with light brown straight hair, and her most attractive features were her hazel eyes. She also had good teeth. It was ironic that the upper classes who could afford to indulge in such luxuries as sugar, suffered the worst tooth decay, while farm girls usually had good strong teeth for most of their lives.

She was popular with everyone she came in contact with, and so she felt that her personality was not going to obstruct her ambitions. She reasoned that looks weren't that important anyway, and Henry Triplett had always thought she was attractive. His father leased the farm next to the Grantham's, and Sophia had known Henry all her life. He was a year older and called at the Grantham farm as often as he could in the hope of speaking to Sophia. So despite her less than impressive physical assessment, she decided that she was destined for better things, and if an opportunity arose to improve her circumstances, she would grasp it.

# Chapter 2

# The Manor

The next four years seemed to Sophia to drag by, being devoid of both excitement and rich noblemen. Queen Victoria had just taken the throne at the age of 18, and she was short and dumpy too, so Sophia concluded that her own appearance need not hold her back from being accepted by the upper classes. It was usual for girls to look for jobs at the Manor houses when they reached 16, starting in positions such as scullery maid, with the ultimate ambition of reaching such seniority as housekeeper or cook. Some of her school friends had already found employment as servants at nearby Manors, and others worked as domestic servants for the district's clergymen and doctors. Sophia had hoped to avoid starting at the bottom, but there was no alternative available to her.

Soon after her 16th birthday she applied for a position of scullery maid at the Manor of Edward Nuttall in the parish of Stockport. It was six miles from the farm, but it offered the best employment Sophia had been able to find. This was not one of the biggest houses, but was still beautifully decorated and furnished, at least in the main living area. The servant's quarters were not lavish by any means, but Sophia was happy with her cramped lodgings in the annex behind the main building. She was the most junior servant in the house, but she had her own room and felt that this may be the start on her road to riches. Her duties included getting up before 5am to light the wood stove and begin heating water so that Cook could prepare breakfast for the household, then scrubbing pots and pans after each meal, mopping the stone kitchen floor and making sure that wood and utensils were ready for every meal. Washing up and scrubbing after the evening meal meant Sophia finished work at around 9pm. She would often have cocoa with the other kitchen servants and fall into bed around 10pm. Her working day was never less than 15 hours for six days of the week, and then there was another six hours work on the seventh day. On her half day off she would have to wash and iron her own clothes, and prepare for the following week's work.

She saw Edward Nutall only rarely, but gained the impression he was a kindly man, not a bit like the tyrants she had been led to believe owned these estates. He was not married and shared the large house with his widowed sister Eliza Hadfield, along with her personal Maid, the Butler, Housekeeper, Cook, Gardener, Head Groom and all their assistants totalling some 15 servants. Eliza Hadfield was much more like the self centred layabouts that Sophia had heard about. She treated the housekeeper and the cook with little respect, and rarely spoke directly to lesser servants. Nutall owned several properties in the area, which he rented out. Land cost about five pounds per acre, and a basic cottage could be built for less than ten pounds, so anyone with 50 pounds in the bank was quite wealthy.

Edward and Eliza had been beneficiaries of their father's estate and so inherited most of their wealth. Edward received the real estate and therefore the income from the leased properties, while Eliza received cash to a significantly lesser value. They had since both added to their wealth, Edward through rent increases and gradually rising property values, and in Eliza's case by shrewd investment in the new growth industry, transportation. Railways were being extended all over England, and travel was far quicker and much more comfortable than the old horse and buggy bouncing along the dirt roads. The Great Central Railway currently ran from Manchester to Sheffield and would soon be extended to link Grimsby on the east coast with Liverpool on the west. In fact it appeared that in the long run, Eliza's railway company investments may prove more profitable than Edward's properties because she didn't have the staff costs and land taxes that were skimming the top off his profits each year.

Sophia was not permitted in the main living area of the house in the normal course of her work, but was occasionally called to help the house maids and caught glimpses of the interior of rooms with their high ceilings, wood panelled walls and luxurious looking furnishings. It was beyond anything Sophia had imagined, and she decided on the spot that she would do whatever she must to live in such surroundings. It occurred to her that with such wealth all around, small items would not be missed, and if she was careful she might be able to remove a trinket here and there without anyone noticing. She decided to wait and watch for an opportunity to arise.

Sophia found one of the footmen by the name of Joseph Sadler particularly attractive, but was too shy to say anything to him after they were first introduced. He was tall at 5 feet 6 inches, and strongly built, perhaps three years older than herself, and with a confident air about him that she liked. His duties above stairs meant that their paths rarely crossed, and they usually saw each other only at meal times when all the servants ate together. He had noticed Sophia though, and was waiting for an opportunity to talk to her. After several weeks the opportunity came one afternoon when they both had time away from their tasks. Sophia was sitting in the spring sunshine near the wood heap beside the stables when Sadler approached her.

'Good afternoon Miss Grantham.' he said, then glancing at the clear sky, 'The weather is improving, and summer will soon be here.'

'Hello Mister Sadler,' Sophia replied in the same formal manner used at first time introductions. 'Yes I prefer summer, especially having to get out of bed so early.'

He looked at her carefully, trying to judge how best to get to know her. 'You seem to have settled in quite well. I've heard that Mister Bramall has recommended you highly to Mrs Hadfield, so I expect you'll be permanent here then?'

Bramall the Butler had already told Sophia that her work was considered satisfactory, and that the Mistress had agreed to keep her on.

'Oh yes, I want to stay for some time yet. I would like to work my way into a better position, so that I may find an easier job at some future time.'

'I see.' he said thoughtfully. 'You have higher ambitions then do you?'

'Certainly. I have no desire to stay in service all my life.'

Sadler was impressed by her forceful reply, and decided that she might be useful in helping him to achieve his own aim. Glancing around to see no one was close by, he said, 'I also hope to become more than a footman. Perhaps we should discuss ideas on how to improve our situations.'

Sophia had the same thought, but there was no room for a partner in her own plan unless he was already rich. She would have to give this more thought before discussing anything further. 'I must go and attend to my work.' said Sophia, standing up. 'Perhaps we can talk again next week.'

Sadler watched her walk away, and thought that a partner was just what he needed to help him reach his own ends.

As it happened, their times off did not coincide again for several weeks, and although they saw each other nearly every day, there was no chance to talk privately. Cook had noted that Sophia could read and write, and that she could add and subtract numbers accurately in her head. This was a rare ability amongst servants, especially kitchen maids, and was handy when making lists for the purchase of groceries and bulk items like tea and flour, and accounting for the cost of the items. She also got on well with the other servants, remaining aloof from the petty jealousies that were endemic between the house and kitchen maids. Sophia was thus given greater responsibility in the kitchen helping Cook, and accompanying her on shopping trips to the village markets.

Within a few months, her intelligence and likeable personality led to Sophia being promoted to housemaid. Cook wasn't happy to lose her, but the housekeeper had the ear of Eliza Hadfield and she decided who went where in the household. This was what Sophia had wanted all along, access to the living areas. As a fringe benefit, she saw Sadler much more frequently, as he went about his tasks, and they were able to talk privately nearly every day.

Their conversations over the months gradually became more personal, and it was clear that they shared similar desires to become rich. It was understood by both of them, though not spoken aloud, that at some time they would have to take what they wanted from their employer. By the time she was 17 they had also become more than friends when Sadler had managed to seduce Sophia in an unused guest bedroom. She knew little about the practical details of sex beyond the basics she had learned from her mother's frequent pregnancies, but she learned quickly.

In the months that followed, intimacy and the diminished inhibitions that accompanied it enabled them to talk freely and exchange ideas on how to make their fortunes. They agreed to help each other, and would share whatever they could pilfer from the household, and when they felt they had enough, move on to another Manor. They both knew that fraternization between servants in the household was forbidden, punishable by sacking, and so they had already crossed the line into unacceptable behaviour.

# Chapter 3

# Larceny

As Sophia became comfortable in her new surroundings, she had further opportunities to visit nearby Stockport, sometimes accompanying Eliza Hadfield and her personal maid. Eliza had taken a liking to Sophia's intelligence and apparent desire to please, and Sophia's talent for hat mending and general sewing had also come to her notice. She had become a valued employee, and within a year of arriving at the Manor, Sophia had firmly cemented her place in the household. She still visited her family whenever George could pick her up on her half day off.

On outings to help with the shopping Sophia sometimes saw Henry Triplett, but was never able to talk to him. On one occasion however, she was waiting in the street for Eliza Hadfield when he was passing by. 'Hello Miss Grantham' he said, not wanting to offend by using her first name in public, now that she looked like a grown woman. Sophia had decided that such formality was an invention of the upper classes and was therefore not necessary to be adhered to by the ordinary working people.

'Hello Henry', she replied cheerfully. 'How is your mother?' Sophia remembered his mother's kindness over the years. She had taken a liking to Mrs Triplett.

'She has not been well lately,' replied Henry, 'the last winter affected her badly, and she has a severe cough.'

'Oh dear.' said Sophia, genuinely sorry to hear that news. 'Perhaps I could visit her one day.'

'Of course. That would cheer her up I'm sure.' he said.

Sophia arranged for Henry to pick her up on her next half day off, and went to visit Mrs. Triplett. She was made very welcome and was invited to come by any time she was able. From then on, Sophia visited the Triplett farm whenever she could, because it gave her a break from the Manor, and it seemed more fun than just going to her own family's farm. She did whatever household work she could, and Mrs. Triplett was most glad of the help.

Joseph Sadler had become aware of Sophia's visits, and saw that Henry Triplett drove her back and forth in his sulky. He became jealous, and had thoughts that Sophia could be planning something with Triplett, but said nothing to her.

It was the usual practice for Edward Nutall to visit the bank each month to deposit his property rents, and withdraw wages for the household servants, as well as housekeeping money. The withdrawals came from both Edward's and Eliza's accounts and were always prepared in advance by the bank. The cash amounted to some 20 pounds, made up of coins ranging in denomination from farthings to crowns. The money was then taken back to the Manor in an oaken box where it was counted out for payment to individual servants. Edward paid for the outdoor workers, while Eliza paid for the indoor servants.

Edward was always driven to the bank in his carriage by one of the grooms, and took one of the servants to help. Lately, Sophia had been selected to accompany him on some of these trips, and so it was one Monday in October 1838. They made their usual trip to the bank, with Nutall and Sophia riding inside, and the groom in the driving seat. They had picked up the money as usual and were heading home, when the horses shied and bolted as a bird swooped at them. The wheels ran off the edge of the road and the driver was thrown from the seat as the carriage tipped over. He landed heavily on the cobblestones, and was knocked senseless. Inside, Sophia was thrown against the side of the carriage, but not badly hurt. Nutall was thrown onto the floor hitting his head heavily against the door frame. The box was flung onto the road, falling open and scattering coins all around.

When the carriage stopped, Sophia found herself lying among dozens of coins. Recovering her wits immediately, she realized this was the perfect chance to grab as much as she could, and hide it away. Later she could claim that people coming to their aid must have picked it up. Gathering as many coins as quickly as she could, and wrapping them in her shawl, she looked up and down the road to see no one was approaching. Taking the heavy bundle to the bushes that fringed the side of the road, she searched quickly for a place to hide it. Finding a depression in the ground under a large thorny bush, she stuffed the shawl in and covered it with branches and leaves. Breathing heavily, she returned to the carriage as Edward Nutall was regaining consciousness. Another carriage was approaching too, and soon the scene was crowded with people helping the injured, righting the carriage and catching the horses.

Later back at the Manor, the Knutsford doctor attended to Nutall and the groom, and declared them both on the road to recovery. Sophia was also examined but the doctor found only bruising. The money had been gathered up and brought back as well, but when Eliza Hadfield counted it, there was some obviously missing. She called Sophia to ask her about it.

'Sophia, there is quite a sum missing from this box. Do you know what may have happened to it?'

'No Ma'am, I was too dazed to see what was happening. Perhaps the people who stopped to help picked it up.' She recited the story that she had rehearsed over and over in her mind.

'Oh dear, then I will have to report this to the police. Those people must be caught.' said Eliza.

Sophia feigned an expression of sorrow. 'I'm sorry I wasn't able to help, but it was a terrible crash and I really didn't know what was happening. How much is missing?' asked Sophia, eager to know how lucrative her escapade had been.

'About fourteen pounds I'm sorry to say.'

That was nearly a year's wages, Sophia thought to herself. Hiding her elation, she silently congratulated herself on her quick thinking.

'We'll let the police deal with it now.' said Eliza.

On Tuesday, having been interviewed by the police, and avoiding any suspicion of involvement, Sophia was feeling very confident that she had succeeded in her first major step toward wealth. Edward Nutall had spoken to her as well, and he seemed to completely believe her story. It was all going so well, that the only thing left to do was to retrieve the shawl before anyone stumbled upon it, and find a permanent hiding place for the money. It occurred to her that the visits to Henry Triplett's farm were now so routine that it should be easy to stop at the crash site, gather the shawl, and bring it back to her room at the Manor without arousing suspicion. As it happened, her next half day off was Wednesday.

Sophia spent another sleepless night fretting about the money in case someone had already found it. At dinner time on Wednesday, she finished her work and was waiting for Henry to arrive as usual. She had brought along a large canvas bag to hide the shawl after she picked it up. As she waited impatiently, Sadler approached her. Without even asking how she felt, he said, 'I heard that some of the servants' pay was missing after your accident Sophia.'

Sophia was immediately on the alert. Sadler knew of her ambitions, and may have suspected her of causing the whole incident.

'Yes, the box broke open and the money was thrown over the road. A lot of people stopped to help, and must have taken some of it.' said Sophia trying to head off any thoughts that Sadler may be developing.

'You were not hurt though were you? You must have seen what was happening.' he said.

Alarmed now, Sophia tried again. 'I was dazed and there were so many people that I couldn't be sure what I was seeing.'

'I see.' He said without conviction. 'You remember our agreement don't you?'

Sophia could see Henry's cart approaching.

'I have to go now; I'll talk to you when I get back tonight.'

With that she turned and walked quickly towards the cart. Sadler watched her go, and decided that she knew more than she was telling. He would watch her carefully. If she had that money, she was not going to get away with his share of it.

As they drove slowly along, Sophia related the story of the accident to Henry, telling him that she had left her shawl behind in the confusion. As they approached the crash site Sophia asked Henry to stop so she could look for the shawl, and directed him to the far side of the road to help her search. While Henry was looking along the wrong side of the road Sophia quickly uncovered the shawl and stuffed it into the bag.

'Here it is Henry.' She called. 'It's very dirty, so I'll leave it in the bag until I can wash it at the Manor.'

They climbed back onto the cart and continued on, with Henry unaware of his complicity in the crime.

Sophia could hardly wait to get home, and made an excuse to leave the Triplett farm early. Henry once again drove her to the Manor where she alighted from the cart with some difficulty as she tried to disguise the weight of the bag. As Henry drove away, she headed as quickly as she could towards her room, hoping not to run into any of the other servants. She didn't see Sadler watching her, but later that night, he again approached her.

'I hope you are not trying to swindle me out of my share of the money Sophia.'

'Whatever do you mean?' she replied innocently.

'I know you took that money, and I want my share.'

Sophia had already decided that this money was an accidental windfall that fell outside their sharing agreement, and as a consequence she had every right to keep it all.

'I do not have any of that money.'

Sadler was sure now that she wasn't going to share it, and if that was the case, she wasn't going to get it either.

As Sophia was getting ready for bed that night, the door of her room was suddenly flung open, and John Bramall the Butler, followed by Edward Nutall entered the room. Sophia was startled, but before she could speak, Nutall said, 'Sophia I have been told that you have some money that does not belong to you.'

She heard no more. As her life flashed before her eyes, the Butler located the bag that Sadler had described, and upended it on the bed. The coins shone dull in the lamplight, and Sophia fainted on top of them.

The police were called, and she was charged with stealing the money on the date that it was found in her possession, Wednesday the 10th of October. The wheels of justice were well oiled and turned swiftly. Just five days later, on Monday the 15th of October 1838, Sophia appeared in the Knutsford court at the age of 17, on two charges. The first charge was 'Felony as a Servant', in that she stole 3 pounds 10 shillings and 6 pence from her employer Edward Nutall. The second charge was 'Larceny' of 10 pounds 1 shilling and 7 pence from Eliza Hadfield. The witnesses for both charges were Edward Nutall, Eliza Hadfield, Joseph Sadler and John Bramall. The trial before a Judge and twelve-man Jury lasted less than one day, with no defence witnesses called. Sophia's parents had been informed, and Hannah came to the trial.

The Prosecutor Mr. Hunt read the charges, and Sophia was surprised to hear him state the amounts she was supposed to have stolen. The money had been all mixed together. 'How did they arrive at the proportions for Nuttall and his sister?' she wondered. Mr. Hunt questioned the witnesses and had no trouble establishing that Sophia had taken the money from the accident scene.

The Judge seemed to be sympathetic, and listening intently in the public gallery, Hannah thought the jury seemed sorry for her, and hoped that she might be let off. After lunch the jury retired, and it took less than an hour before they returned and the foreman read the verdicts.

George Reade was an elderly bespectacled man who sat at his desk in front of and below the Judge's elevated bench. He had been Clerk of this Court for 15 years, and his job was to record the details of charges, witnesses and findings. He had both of Sophia's charge sheets in front of him, each detailing the denomination and quantity of each and every coin allegedly stolen from Edward and Eliza. The charge details occupied the top half of the page, leaving the bottom half to be filled in with the jury's verdict and the Judge's sentence. George wasn't surprised to hear the foreman return a verdict of 'Guilty' on the first charge and 'Not Guilty' on the second. He entered the findings on the charge sheets, and looked at the sad young lady in the dock. He wondered if she knew that this was perhaps the luckiest day of her life.

Under prevailing law, any theft of more than four pounds required an automatic death sentence, but a general feeling had taken hold among Members of Parliament, Judges, Police and even the public, that this was too harsh, and for several years most death sentences for larceny had been commuted to life in prison. Additionally, many thieves were now being charged with stealing just 3 pounds 19 shillings when the actual amount was higher, which avoided any uncertainty about commutation. Sophia was spared a death sentence, or at least life in prison, by the sums being split as they were, and the jurors pronouncing her not guilty of the higher charge.

Sophia was trembling and didn't want to look at her mother, but watched from the dock as the Judge, seated at his elevated bench, made some notes. Then after a few moments he looked across at Sophia and said:

'Sophia Grantham, I have heard the evidence and noted your previous good character and that of your family, and while it seems this may be but a temporary lapse, nevertheless taking money from those who have worked for, and therefore deserve to benefit from that money, is a serious matter. An example must be set to others that avarice cannot be condoned under any circumstances.' Adjusting his spectacles, the Judge pronounced the formal sentence.

George Reade filled in the blanks in his pro-forma as the Judge spoke, and when he had finished, it read:

'It is ordered by this court that the Master and Keeper of the House of Correction at Nether Knutsford detain and safely keep the said Sophia Grantham in his custody in the said House of Correction and to hard labour for the term of three calendar months.'

Again looking at Sophia, the Judge continued.

'Consider this to be a lesson that if learned well, will enable you to live the remainder of your life as you would want. You must know that any future appearance in court could lead to the most severe punishment.'

Then looking towards the prison guard, he said, 'Take her down.'

In the short silence that followed these remarks, Sophia heard Hannah sobbing in the public gallery. This would bring shame and embarrassment upon their family. George would be beside himself, and it would be all he could do to prevent the family being evicted from their farm. He would see no possibility of forgiveness for this blot on the family's reputation. Sophia felt dazed and could hardly comprehend her surroundings as the prison guard took her arm. 'This way prisoner', she heard a distant voice say, and with a last glance at Hannah, Sophia was led away to what she would later realize was the beginning of a life far removed from the one she had always imagined.

# Chapter 4

# Gaol

The House of Correction at Nether Knutsford was a large foreboding place that dominated the surrounding landscape. It was a cold and miserable collection of buildings, whose stone walls transferred the cold from outside to the interior with great efficiency. Now, with winter approaching, the grey skies added to the image of a medieval dungeon. It was mid morning as the black, horse-drawn police wagon clanked to a stop outside the iron gate in the high stone wall that enclosed the prison buildings. Sophia was chained to three other women in the back of the wagon and could see only part of the wall through the small barred window in the rear door. They waited as the heavy gate creaked slowly open, then with a jerk the wagon started forward and travelled to the far end of a courtyard where it finally stopped. The police escort opened the door allowing Sophia to see where she would be living for the next three months.

The demeanour of the female warders that Sophia saw as she stepped from the wagon was just as bleak as the prison. The prisoners were herded into the induction room where a stern faced middle aged woman in warder's uniform watched as their chains were removed and they stood in a ragged line. As the chains were noisily carted out to the wagon and the door locked, Sophia looked around the room, noticing several buckets on a table against the wall, and along another wall a bench with neatly folded piles of clothing and footwear.

'Welcome to your new home ladies.' the warder said with a hint of sarcasm. 'First you will clean yourself thoroughly, and then I will issue you with your new wardrobe. Take off all your clothes.' Sophia was embarrassed and began to shiver as the cold and the reality of her situation started to sink in.

As their clothing was removed, it was collected by one of the junior warders. Sophia and the others washed themselves with the cold water in the buckets, drying themselves as best they could with the small thin towels provided, and stood shivering waiting for their next instruction. The warder indicated the bench along the wall.

'I will read out the things that are issued to you and you will pick up the correct number of items from each pile. You are to dress yourself, and carry everything you aren't wearing. Your own clothing will be returned to you when you are released.'

Sophia looked at the garments, noting that at least they looked clean and new, and she was surprised to see that they were not the plain grey colour that she expected, but were patterned with a blue and yellow frieze. Horizontal stripes were not what Sophia would have selected for her own stout frame, but there was no choice, and anyway no one here was going to care. The warder started reading from her list and Sophia selected garments that looked about the right size. She quickly realized that there were only three sizes anyway. Small, that looked suitable for children, Medium and Large.

'Two cotton dresses.....two woollen petticoats....one cotton bed gown....one cotton cap....one pair of wooden clogs...'

Sophia dressed quickly to try and get warm and so as not to annoy the warder who looked as though she could be very nasty if she was upset.

Just then, a large middle aged woman dressed in a more impressive uniform entered the room. She was obviously in charge of the women's section of the prison, and watched silently as the warders shepherded the prisoners back into line and stood to attention. Briefly looking along the line of women, she started the introductory speech that she apparently recited to all new arrivals.

'I am Matron Gaskell.' she began sternly. 'This institution is one of the most enlightened in the country, and you are lucky to have been sent here rather than to a prison still run under the old principles. You are here so that you may find redemption and rebuild your moral outlook. We will assist you to do that by providing you with time to reflect in silence on your crime and by allowing you to build character through hard work and prayer. Therefore while you are in this prison, you will not speak to any other prisoner, nor to any warders unless they speak to you first. If you are caught speaking to anyone, you will be placed in solitary confinement for three days, and your food ration will be reduced to bread and water.'

Sophia could not believe her ears. How had this come about? Just a week ago she was living comfortably and enjoying a normal happy life, and now she was being treated like this. The voice droned on. 'Your cell block warder will inform you of the daily routine and any tardiness or deviation from the rules will also result in solitary confinement.' With that she motioned to the warders to take them away, and they were led out into a larger room with tables and chairs, all currently unoccupied. A closed shutter and serving counter along one wall told Sophia this was the meal area next to the kitchen. They proceeded up a flight of stairs to the next floor where a long corridor was flanked on either side by perhaps 30 doors, all of them open. Sophia was ushered to a door and told to put her belongings inside. She stepped inside and the door clanged shut behind her sending a shiver down her spine. It took some seconds for her eyes to get used to the dim light and take stock of her surroundings.

Her cell was about eight feet by six with the only light entering through a barred window high on the wall opposite the door. The door itself was of solid wood with iron hinges and hasps, with a hatch that could be opened from the outside so warders could look inside. The only furnishings were an iron bedstead with a straw mattress, covered by two thin woollen blankets, and a rug on the stone floor. Under the bed was a chamber pot. Sophia sat on the bed as tears blurred her vision, but before she could feel sorry for herself, a distant bell rang. A moment later her door was opened and the warder gruffly commanded her to stand outside her door. As she did so, she could see the other three women also waiting outside their doors.

'That was the dinner bell. After you have eaten, you will attend prayers in the Chapel, and then go to work until supper time. Now follow me.'

The warder led the way down the stairs to the room that had been empty just 10 minutes earlier, but was now crowded with an assortment of the roughest looking women Sophia had ever seen. Some were standing at the tables, others queuing at the counter where a white coated woman was ladling soup from a large tub into tin bowls. Further along, another woman was handing out plates of meat and potatoes. They looked at the new arrivals with little curiosity and went on with their business, without a word being spoken. Bowls and spoons clattered as prisoners were issued with their soup, and as the aroma of food reached her, Sophia realized she was hungry.

Sophia joined the queue and received her bowl of soup, and a plate with a large potato and a slice of meat. She found a vacant chair and stood behind it waiting for Grace to be said before the meal could begin. Once seated, she ate hungrily. It didn't look like much, and it hardly quelled her appetite, but Sophia was to find that this was the main meal for the day. Less than ten minutes later everyone was finished eating, and Grace was said again. The room began emptying as women washed their plates and went out through a door at the end of the room, guarded by a warder. Sophia followed and found herself in a chapel where about 50 women were kneeling in apparent fervent prayer or loudly singing hymns from tattered hymn books stacked near the door. Sophia had been to church regularly with her family, but was surprised at the apparent devotion to spiritual salvation shown by these rough types, most of whom Sophia would have wagered had never seen the inside of a church.

As she sat down a voice next to her whispered, 'What are you in for?' Startled, she looked around at the haggard slightly built young woman beside her.

'I took something that didn't belong to me.' she replied.

'Ah, me too.'

'We aren't supposed to speak are we?' asked Sophia, glancing around to see if any warders were watching.

'It's the only reason we like to come here after dinner. No one can hear us over the singing and prayers.

Then Sophia noticed other women also whispering, and occasionally praying out loud, so as to disguise their conversation. It was apparent that this was the only opportunity through the day for any communication between prisoners.

'How long are you in for?' asked the woman.

'Three months.' replied Sophia.

'Oh, that will be easy. Some of these women are here for twelve months. Any with longer sentences go to Millbank or Brixton. Those places are really hard I'm told.'

Sophia soon discovered that her inquisitor's name was Julia Green, a domestic servant, and that she was half way through her own six month sentence for stealing silk and lace. Further conversation was stopped by the sound of another bell, and all the women started filing out of the Chapel. Sophia followed the line into yet another large room on the ground floor with two lines of work tables stretching the length of the room, each table with a bin of fabric on the floor beside it. There were gas lamps along the walls to supplement the dull light entering through the barred windows. They were set too high for anyone to see through without standing on a table, and the overhanging eaves blocked any view of the sky. The overall scene was depressingly dull.

The women lined up at their work places, and were counted to see all were present. As the others went back to their partly completed tasks, Sophia was led past several tables where women were sewing garments of various types, to a spare work table.

'Sit here.' said the warder. 'Can you sew?'

'Yes, I can sew very well.' said Sophia, smiling at the warder and trying to be as friendly as possible. This was at last something she could feel comfortable with, and a chance to show the warders that she wasn't a criminal and didn't deserve to be here.

'Good. Then you might be useful here. You will be credited with payment for making clothing, which will be paid to you on your release. You can also earn payment for spinning and laundering. In the meantime keep your mouth shut and you won't get into trouble.'

Sophia felt offended by the tone of this remark, but silently sat down and took some fabric from the bin beside the table. It consisted of pre-cut pieces that Sophia could see were the pattern for a shirt. She only had to sew them together with a needle and thread. Not very interesting to someone who was able to design and make hats, but better than laundry, she thought to herself. She looked around at the other women, some of whom were silently watching her. One hard looking girl, several years older, and somewhat bigger than herself glared at Sophia with undisguised dislike. Sophia smiled in an attempt to be friendly, but the girl sneered silently and turned away. Sophia wondered what she had done to offend anyone.

Five hours later Sophia had completed two shirts and was well into the third when a bell rang. She hoped it was the supper bell, because she was tired and hungry and wanted a rest. The women were filing out to the kitchen and Sophia followed. If she was expecting a good meal at the end of a days work she was going to be disappointed. On reaching the front of the inevitable queue, Sophia was given a mug of soup, and a piece of bread that had been hacked rather than sliced from some sort of randomly shaped loaf baked at least two days earlier. She looked at this meal with dismay, hoping that there might be some more to come, but there was not.

'Move along there girl.' The warder commanded, and Sophia glumly wandered to a vacant seat to eat her meal as slowly as she could to eke out the most enjoyment possible from such a small helping. But after ten minutes a bell rang again, Grace was said, and all the prisoners were lined up and filed up the stairs to their cells.

Sophia entered her cell and sat on the bed. She could hear the slamming of doors and clanking of hasps as the warders locked each cell in turn. When her turn came, the sound of her door slamming seemed like the end of the world, and the thought of being locked in here every night for three months was too much for her. She lay down and sobbed.

After a sleepless night listening to the unfamiliar jail sounds and shivering with cold even with the blankets pulled tight around her, Sophia was at last dozing off when the bell rang. She didn't know what time it was, but it was dark and even colder than it had been all night. The sounds of cell doors being opened brought her fully awake. Her door crashed open and the warder told her to sweep out her cell then stand outside the door.

As she stood outside, she could see the other women along the corridor also standing by their doors. Warders quickly went from cell to cell checking for cleanliness, and then ordered the women to file to the washroom. Sophia was jostled by other women as she went down the stairs, and was irritated by the rudeness of these people. She held her ground, and was pushed again. She wondered why these women seemed to dislike her so much, and decided that she would have to stand up for herself or be pushed around for the next three months. At the washroom, buckets of cold water were lined along the wall, and women washed as quickly as they could, sharing a bucket between each three women.

Sophia was nearly finished when she was elbowed hard in the ribs. Turning to see who had done it, she was confronted by the girl who had sneered at her yesterday. In a menacing whisper she said,

'We don't like smarmy good girls here. If you want to get on well, you'd better stop sucking up to the warders or you might get hurt.'

Sophia was momentarily taken aback. Who was this girl to be telling her how to behave? Her temper rising, she replied, 'Leave me alone or I won't be the only one getting hurt.' Sophia had never actually hurt anyone, but she'd never stepped back from an argument either. The girl sneered again.

'We'll see about that.' She turned back to her bucket, and nothing more was said.

Two days later as the women again filed down to the washroom, Sophia was pushed hard and fell down the steps, injuring her knee and scraping her arm on the iron railing. She knew who had done it but said nothing, and decided there and then to even the score. She thought about it all morning, and at dinner time that day, again sitting next to Julia Green in the Chapel and nursing her wounds, she told her what she planned to do. Julia was aghast.

'You have to be very careful. That girl is Bridget Sloan. She's very rough. She has everyone scared of her, and even the warders seem to stay away from her. If you get into a fight you will be in solitary confinement before you know what's happening.'

'I don't care, no one is going to push me around.' whispered Sophia fiercely.

'Well, if you are successful, you will be the number one girl in this block. But if you fail, you will be badly hurt.'

'Yes, I know. So I won't fail.'

Sophia had to wait days for her chance, but finally it happened that Sloan was in front of her on the stairs. The warder was leading the way to the washroom and was already well in front of the group. Seizing her chance, Sophia grabbed Sloan's hair, wrenching it to the side and slamming her head down onto the railing as hard as she could. Then in one movement gave Sloan a shove that sent her hurtling head first down the stairs, knocking several others down as well. When the ensuing hubbub was brought under control, Sloan was found semi-conscious and bleeding severely from a head wound. Sophia hadn't seen so much blood since her father killed a calf for the family to eat. The warder summoned help, and within minutes, the place was swarming with warders from other blocks.

There was an inquiry of course, conducted by Matron Gaskell. She interviewed everyone but no one admitted seeing anything. This was a bonus for Sophia who had expected that someone would point the finger at her, but she hadn't been aware of the code of silence that prevailed in prisons, or how disliked Sloan was. So although Matron Gaskell established that Sophia was immediately behind Sloan on the stairs, she had no witness to prove Sophia did anything. Sophia was summoned back to Matron Gaskell's office.

'You are very lucky Miss Grantham. I'm sure you pushed that girl, but I can't prove it. Could I have done so, you would be charged with another crime for which you would spend a long time in prison. We have had to send Sloan to the hospital, and it will be a long time before she is returned here. Nevertheless, you may be in some danger from her friends, and I think that you need to be separated from the others for a time. I am awarding you three days solitary confinement, and you should feel fortunate that is all you get.'

Sophia did indeed feel fortunate. She'd had some misgivings after seeing the damage she'd done to Sloan, but now that she'd got away with it she was feeling quite pleased with herself.

'Yes, Matron I'm sure I deserve punishment, and I will be a better person after it.' Sophia had learned that the way to get on in prison was to act obediently and contritely. Smiling to herself, she was led away to her cell where she would spend the next three days, with meals and wash bucket being brought to her. It was something of a holiday, except that the already meagre food ration was cut to just bread and water.

Three days later, at the morning bell, Sophia stood outside her door and looked along the line of women, who were all looking at her. Sophia was a little nervous, not knowing if anything had been arranged by Sloan's friends to get even. Nothing happened at the washroom, nor at the workroom. Women looked, but no one even whispered to her. By dinnertime, it was apparent that Sophia was being left alone, and she found Julia again in the Chapel.

'You were wonderful Sophia.' said Julia. 'Nearly everyone here wanted to do that, but no one dared. No one here will trouble you again I'm sure.'

Sophia felt better than she could ever remember. Here she had at last gained some status among her peers. They were criminals certainly, but they respected her, and she hadn't had this sort of respect from anyone since she was first in her class in an arithmetic test ten years ago.

During the next ten weeks Sophia was able to talk to a number of women during prayers, and occasionally at other times during lapses of supervision. She basked in her newfound status as top girl, and listened to the stories of other women. What they did, what went wrong and how they were caught. It occurred to Sophia that, but for some simple and avoidable mistakes some of these girls could have been rich. Her own dreams still lingered, and since her chances of a wealthy marriage were somewhat diminished by her circumstances, acquiring money by other means seemed perfectly feasible. Her former feelings of jealousy and wanting to belong to the rich aristocracy gradually turned to hatred as she heard stories of the lazy lifestyles of the so-called upper classes who thought not one whit about the servants who pandered to their every whim. It was said that they were carried on the backs of the working classes, and contributed nothing to the welfare of ordinary people. Only landowners had the right to vote, so ordinary people had no voice in Government. She had already heard from her father about the Corn Laws that benefited the land owners, and now formed the opinion that rich people were selfish and she no longer aspired to be like them. In fact, she thought they owed her for the injustice of this imprisonment.

Julia was a source of much encouragement. She had been taking silk and lace from her employer for over a year in small quantities, and sold it to a regular buyer. Since this was her first known offence, she received only six months rather than a more serious penalty often handed out to servants who stole from their masters. Sophia listened to her stories at first with amazement and then with interest as she heard how, except for some bad luck, Julia could have been doing this for years until she made enough money to live a very comfortably. Lying on her straw stuffed canvas mattress in the dark each night, hearing the shouting and coarse language from other women in the block, Sophia's thoughts ran wild with ideas to make money. No need for a rich husband, just careful planning and execution of a simple theft could short cut her way to the riches she was beginning to think of as her right.

The three months in gaol dragged by, as Sophia was eager to get out and implement the ideas she had considered. Highway robbery was out of the question, but Julia had given her so many examples of ways to remove items from their owner's possession without anyone noticing, and of covering her tracks to avoid detection later, that it all seemed so easy. She couldn't return home to Hale anyway, her father would not allow her to live under the same roof, so now was the time to move to a new district, and get a job in a place where the odd missing trinket would hardly be noticed.

Normally, references would have been necessary for employment but Sophia felt sure that her story of working as a domestic servant at home and her decision to move out because of family differences would explain the lack of formal references. Julia gave her tips on how to answer the questions that were likely to be asked, and suggested she first apply for the lowest position available thus requiring the lowest degree of scrutiny of past work history. For good measure, Sophia decided she would change her name to the more fashionable Kezia. It wasn't necessary to change her surname, because there were many Grantham families in the region, with hundreds of children of all ages. Some were related to her directly, but most were not, except through their common Norman ancestor a hundred generations ago. Having the Grantham name showed she was a local girl but would make it difficult for anyone to place her from a specific family.

The day finally came for Sophia to be released, and she said goodbye to her friends.

'Thank you for the ideas Julia, I'm going to find a position somewhere and set myself up for life.'

'Be careful Sophia, remember to take it slowly at first, and gain people's trust. Once any theft is discovered, everyone is a suspect, but the most trusted ones have little difficulty throwing off suspicion. Always have a story ready to prove you were nowhere near the scene of the crime.'

On the 26th of January 1839, as she was escorted to the main gate of the prison with her few possessions wrapped in the blanket that Hannah had managed to send to her after the trial, Sophia, now to be known as Kezia Grantham, felt she was setting out to make her fortune, and if that came at the expense of the aristocracy who never worked a day in their lives, so be it.

# Chapter 5

# The Pin

Kezia found it harder than she expected to find a job in a new district where no one knew her, and without references. Another Manor was risky, so she looked for other situations. After days of searching she finally found work in a Millinery shop in Stockport. This was a large town of over 10,000 people and she could become anonymous here where her sewing ability made up for her lack of references. The shop owners, Mr. and Mrs. Phillips were sufficiently impressed with her sewing that they provided her with lodgings in a spare room in their house. Her work consisted of making mostly standard bonnet designs, but occasionally, some more elegant styles under the supervision of Mrs. Phillips. Within a few months though, her skill and talent for design earned her the freedom to design hats for Mrs. Phillips' approval, and then make them for sale. She never contacted her family, and they never knew where she went after being released from prison.

Her thoughts of riches had receded since starting work here, because she was enjoying her work and being well paid for it. Having a comfortable place to live and the freedom to do as she pleased removed any urgency about making her fortune, and the year passed quickly. So the gold pin that came with a hat that was delivered to the shop one day should not have aroused any avaricious thoughts. But it did.

Kezia had received the hat from a servant who worked at a nearby Manor. The hat belonged to the Mistress, and the band had become loose. The servant asked that it be finished and returned within two days. Kezia agreed and the servant left. As Kezia took the hat from the box, her finger was pricked by the pin. Taking the pin out and sucking a drop of blood from her finger, she was surprised to see that the pin, about three inches long, had a quarter inch diameter sphere at one end that appeared to be made of gold. Holding the pin and feeling the weight of it, she felt the first pangs of temptation flood over her. Did anyone else know it was left in there? Even if it were missed, it would be presumed to have fallen out somewhere. She would love to keep this pin, but she could never wear it in public. Perhaps she could sell it and buy something beautiful for herself. Without making a definite decision, she hid the pin as Mrs. Phillips came to the front of the shop.

'Look Mrs. Phillips, this lovely hat has come in for mending from Lady Astor. May I take it back to her when it's finished?'

There had been no opportunity for Kezia to go near the Manor since starting work here. 'Yes my dear, but remember your station. Don't go to the front door.'

'No Mrs. Phillips, I know how to behave.' said Kezia, keeping her eagerness under control.

Two days later, with the hat restored to its finest condition, Kezia set off to walk the two miles to the Manor. She had decided to keep the pin to see if anyone missed it. Even if she couldn't wear it, just possessing it made her feel better. Arriving at the side door of the Manor, she was met by a parlour maid who called the Housekeeper to receive the hatbox. Kezia was not invited in, but caught a glimpse of the interior of a room. It was even more luxurious than the Nuttall Manor, and her former ambitions resurfaced. She again resolved that she would do whatever she must to live in such surroundings.

After two weeks, when no one had called about the pin, with her 19th birthday just days away, Kezia started to believe she had succeeded in her latest step on the road to riches, and could reward herself with a present. 'What to do with the pin now?' she wondered. The fear of being found out prevented her from doing anything though, and she decided to wait a bit longer to make sure.

After waiting several more weeks, with her birthday passing with no change in her routine and no questions having been asked, Kezia thought that it should be safe to sell the pin. There was a jeweller just a few doors further along the road, and she wondered if he might buy it from her. So, during a shopping trip, she went to Hocking's jewellery shop.

'Good morning Mister Hocking' said Kezia with what she hoped was an air of calm nonchalance disguising the butterflies in her stomach.

'Good morning Miss.' replied the jeweller, wondering what this young girl could possibly want. He knew she worked for Mrs. Phillips, but rarely saw girls in his shop unless accompanied by their employers. He had very little for sale that this young woman could afford to buy.

'I have something here that I hope you may want to purchase. My grandmother left it to me in her Will, but I don't want to wear it myself. Perhaps you could give me a fair price so I can buy a new dress with the money.' She held the pin out. Hocking looked at it with some surprise.

'It's a fine piece,' he said examining it with his eyeglass. 'Probably solid gold. Your grandmother left it to you did she?' His suspicions were immediately aroused by the obvious value of the pin and the similarity to one reported stolen at the Manor a few weeks ago. He had been asked only last week about a replacement for it.

'I'll just take it into my workshop to examine it and assess its value.' He disappeared around the doorway behind the counter leaving Kezia slightly uneasy, and now having invented a story, with no way to back out of the situation. Hocking called his wife from the back of the shop, and showed her the pin.

'Go and fetch Constable Jenkins. I think this girl has stolen this pin from the Manor.' As his wife left through the back door, Hocking made a show of examining the pin, weighing it and making sounds of approval for Kezia to hear. After several minutes he returned to the counter and started explaining to her how an evaluation of such an item would be done. She was now becoming restless and fidgeted with her bonnet strap.

'Mister Hocking I am in something of a hurry, can you just pay me and I'll be on my way.' Certain now that something was amiss, Hocking told her that he had been informed of Lady Astor's missing pin, and this looked just like it. The colour drained from Kezia's face, and at that moment, Constable Jenkins and Mrs. Hocking entered the shop.

Kezia's heart sank. Hocking showed the pin to Jenkins who had also received a report about the missing pin. Constable Jenkins asked Kezia her name.

'You say this is yours Miss Grantham?' he asked. With no way out Kezia started to continue the lie, but immediately realized it was futile. Thinking quickly, she decided to change her story.

'No, I found it and ....'

'I suggest you stole this pin and are now trying to sell it while lying about its true owner.' said Jenkins in his most commanding policeman tone of voice. Kezia felt a shiver of fear up her spine and knew her ruse was over. Tears welled up.

'Yes' she whispered quietly. 'I admit it is not mine and throw myself on your mercy.'

Outside the shop a small crowd had assembled, alerted by the policeman and Mrs. Hocking hurrying by. Mrs. Phillips was in the group waiting to see what was happening in the jeweller shop, and was horrified to see her employee being led out by Constable Jenkins, obviously under arrest.

'Constable Jenkins,' she called, 'what is happening? Why is Kezia arrested?'

'Follow us to the police station Mrs. Phillips, and we will have the full story revealed.' said Jenkins brushing past the hushed crowd, all of them wondering what this girl could have done.

At the police station, Kezia told the whole story as Mrs. Phillips wrung her hands at the thought of losing a valuable employee.

'This is a serious matter and must be taken before a Court. The pin is very valuable and you stood to gain substantially from its sale Miss Grantham.' said Jenkins firmly.

'Is there nothing we can do to keep this from becoming a public matter Constable?' asked Mrs. Phillips in a desperate last hope to avoid the inevitable prosecution.

'I'm sorry Mrs. Phillips, but several servants at the Manor had been under suspicion of stealing this pin, and I feel sure that Lady Astor will want charges laid.'

Indeed she did. Lady Astor believed that any misdeed by the lower classes must be stamped upon immediately lest the entire fabric of the society she enjoyed be torn apart. She insisted that the matter be prosecuted vigorously.

It took little investigation by the police to establish that Kezia Grantham was in fact the Sophia Grantham who had a prison record, and the Justice system swung into action immediately. Once she was arrested she was recorded under her real name, and her preferred name of Kezia would have to wait until she was free again, whenever that was going to be. On Thursday the 15th of October 1840 Sophia, alias Kezia Grantham again appeared at the Knutsford Sessions charged with larceny of a gold pin worth a considerable but undisclosed sum.

A jury of twelve men heard the evidence, with Constable Jenkins reading a statement from Lady Astor who of course did not attend, and Sophia told how the pin came to her with the hat. The Judge seemed to be unsympathetic, and listening intently in the public gallery, Mrs. Phillips thought the jury also looked indifferent to her fate. After retiring for less than 15 minutes, the jury's unanimous verdict was, 'Guilty'. Sophia was trembling but watched from the dock as the Judge, seated at his elevated bench, made some notes. Then after a few moments he looked at Sophia and pronounced the mandatory Sentence for second time offenders.

George Reade was still Clerk of the Court and had seen many young women in this situation, having not learned from their previous experience. He still felt sorry for them, and sometimes wondered what became of them after they left his Court. He knew what the sentence would be, and had already selected the appropriate sentencing pro-forma from the various piles on the desk in front of him. So, as the Judge finished sentencing, George dipped his pen into his ink bottle and carefully filled in the blanks. When he had finished, it read:

'Whereas Sophia Grantham otherwise known as Kezia Grantham late of the parish of Altrincham, young woman, hath at these present Sessions been indicted and convicted of Larceny after a prior conviction. Now it is ordered by this court that the said Sophia Grantham otherwise known as Kezia Grantham shall be transported beyond the seas as Her Majesty with the advice of Her Privy Council shall direct for the term of seven years to be computed from this date. And it is further ordered by this court that the Master and Keeper of the House of Correction at Nether Knutsford in the said County to receive into his custody the body of said Sophia Grantham otherwise known as Kezia Grantham and her safely keep and to hard labour in the said House of Correction in the meantime and until she be so transported aforesaid.'

That evening the prison wagon again clanked to a halt inside the walls of the Nether Knutsford House of Correction. There were four women on board, all having been convicted of larceny that day and all sentenced to seven years transportation. The other three were Mary Sheady, a 21 year old servant girl, Ann Davenport, 48 year old widow with two children who worked as a washerwoman, and Sarah Donnerly, 55 years old, also a widow, who sold silk and lace door to door. All of them had been there before, and knew the procedure. Nothing had changed, except that this time when Matron Gaskell arrived, she recognized the names on the committal sheet, and noted the sentences. She looked at them without surprise, just shook her head slightly, and commenced her speech. The Warders also recognized Sophia, but said nothing. They had seen all this before as women who re-offended were sent back here to await transfer to the General Penitentiary in London where they would be assessed and their final destination decided.

Alone again that night in her cell, Sophia lay on the lumpy straw mattress in the darkness and thought about her family. They had been told of her arrest, but no one had come to the trial. She knew that her father would have forbidden Hannah to come, since this latest crime was the final act of shame on the family name, and if there had ever been any hope of seeing them again, it was gone forever now. She would have liked to see the twins who would be nearly seven years old now, and her brother would be milking the cows and starting to learn how to grow crops. But she put aside those thoughts, and decided that she would make the best of her situation, and see what happened next.

The inmates that were there during Sophia's last incarceration nearly two years before had all gone, and her status as top girl had gone with them. Still, her transportation sentence encouraged a measure of respect from the first offenders. But a week later, and before any need arose to re-establish herself, Sophia and the three other transportees were taken from the prison to the Chester docks and put aboard the regularly scheduled coastal steamer for the trip to London. There were already several prisoners on board and they docked twice at coastal towns on the way to pick up even more. Sophia didn't know where, nor did she care. The voyage down the west coast, around Land's End, up through the English Channel and into the Thames took five days. The prisoners numbered some 25 by the time they were all aboard, and were chained below decks. But at least they were able to talk freely during the trip. She became friendly with Mary Sheady and discovered that they had shared similar ambitions.

Mary couldn't read or write and had a somewhat aggressive nature, spending time in solitary confinement during her first prison sentence, but since she was unmarried and the closest in age, Sophia had more in common with her. Mary hadn't yet given up her dreams despite having been twice caught, and now being banished to the other side of the world. Mary didn't know much about the world, and assumed the rest of it would be the same as England. Sophia on the other hand, had read as much as she could about places and world events during her school years, and had a more realistic view of what they would find in the colonies.

# Chapter 6

# Millbank

As the steamer neared its destination, Sophia stretched as far as her chains allowed, and peering through the small porthole, caught glimpses of a river that she presumed was the Thames. There were steam boats moving slowly back and forth, dirty coal barges being shunted into wharves, and it looked a hive of activity around the docks. Rounding a bend, her view became filled with a yellow brown featureless stone wall that she instinctively knew was the infamous Millbank Penitentiary. It was well known that many prisoners never came out alive due to rampant typhus, as well as the occasional murder.

The General Penitentiary at Millbank housed both men and women in separate blocks, and had been built to cope with the escalating number of inmates being committed as a result of riots and machine breaking during the industrial revolution, and the crimes that arose from the resulting unemployment and widespread poverty. It was now crowded to capacity by the backlog of criminals arriving from all over England. Its main purpose though was to assess new prisoners for a few months, then send the better behaved ones on to other prisons, and receive back any that later misbehaved for punishment. Transportees also waited there until ships became available to take them to their final destinations. Because of the large numbers of prisoners, an additional short term measure had been introduced to increase prison capacity. Old ships were stripped of unnecessary rigging and fittings and anchored in rivers around England. They were intended as temporary floating prisons for a few years, but some were to remain in service as prison hulks for 30 years.

The boat tied up at a wharf, where a set of stone steps led directly from the wharf up a short bank to the road that ran into the main gate of the prison. The prisoners filed out of the boat, still chained together, and carrying whatever possessions they owned, up the steps, a short distance along the road and through the prison gates. The smooth operation of the prison system was lost on the inmates, but it had reached a level of high efficiency through the sheer volume of inmates being processed.

This gate proved to be in an outer wall that completely circled the prison, and was separated from the inner walls by an open grassed area that was once a moat. A solitary cow was feeding on the grass near the outer wall. The inner walls that Sophia could see were in fact individual prison blocks each with its own entrance gate. The prisoners were led along the road to the left and around a bend to yet another cell block with its own gate. Above this gate was a sign reading 'Pentagon 3' and in smaller letters below that, 'Female Block'.

They waited as the double gate was unlocked, then filed into the inner compound. Looking around her, Sophia saw they were in a pentagonal-shaped gravelled courtyard, some 60 yards in length and a similar width, surrounded by five stone walls with turret type guard towers at the three outer corners. The walls she now saw were in fact buildings three stories high and constructed of the same yellow-brown stone as the outer wall, with rows of small barred windows along the sides on each level. Several doors in each building provided access to the courtyard.

The prisoners were escorted through one of these doors into a large reception room where they were told to stand in line. The room looked clean and light due to the slightly blue tinted whitewashed walls that gave an impression of spaciousness without glare. Gas pipes running around the walls were terminated in several places by heaters that made the interior temperature quite comfortable. The usual line of wash buckets and stacks of prison clothing were arranged on tables along one wall.

Sophia shuffled into a position where she could see what was happening, but kept her head bowed so as not to attract attention through eye contact. In front of them was a line of several women dressed in the same fawn coloured warders uniforms that Sophia was familiar with. They regarded the prisoners silently with facial expressions giving no hint of their attitude other than perhaps disinterest. To them, this was just the latest in the endless procession of criminals and misfits that came and went through this place. One warder carried a sheaf of documents that came with the prisoners. Each page was a convict record showing the subject's name, age, marital status, occupation, crime, sentence, and any other remarks, usually conduct, that the prison Governor may decide to record. Their record would accompany each of these convicts to the ends of the earth if that was where the penal system decided they should go.

After a short wait, a door opened and a woman in a more impressive uniform entered the room, taking up a position in front of the prisoners.

'I am Principal Matron Sheppard. Follow my instructions and we will finish your induction process quickly. You will first wash yourselves and then be examined by a doctor to see that you have no contagious disease. After that you will be issued with your prison clothing, and later the Governor will be here to speak to you. You are to curtsy to the Governor and to all official visitors whenever you see them, and from here on you will be referred to only by your number.'

Sophia vaguely remembered some official telling her that her prisoner number was 254. It seemed a low number considering the number of female prisoners that must have preceded her, but while she was wondering how the number system worked, the Matron commanded,

'Take off your clothes and fold them at your feet. Place any other possessions you have on top of the clothing.'

Sophia thought this was silly, since she was already wearing the clothing issued at Nether Knutsford. But this prison had a different coloured outfit, and they had to conform. As the women undressed and started to wash, the door at the far end of the room opened and an elderly, grey haired, stooped man appeared. Sophia assumed he was the doctor, and wondered what he had done to deserve such an unhappy appointment as prison doctor.

As the prisoner nearest him finished washing, she was pushed forward and they retreated into the examination room. The warder with the documents went in too. The prisoner reappeared within two minutes and the next one was sent in. Sophia's turn came and the doctor quickly examined every inch of her body, making Sophia feel slightly uneasy. She had never stood naked in front of a man before, and even Joseph Sadler had not seen her totally without clothes. She was checked for scars and tattoos or other identifying deformities, but she had no disease or identifying marks, and the warder noted that on her record. The examination was soon finished, and Sophia returned to the reception room. She was directed to select her clothing from the stacks along the wall. This time the outer gown was a dark plum colour and the nearest fit for Sophia reached nearly to the floor. She dressed quickly, picked up a tin mug, plate and spoon from a pile on the next table, and returned to the line. Her chains were replaced on her ankles, and she awaited the next part of the process.

Eventually another door opened, and a man wearing a Minister's collar entered the room. He was tall at around five feet eight inches and past middle age. Sophia thought he must be going to conduct a prayer service and she felt her anger rising at the thought that God was somehow involved with the treatment that she had experienced recently.

'This is the Prison Governor, Reverend Compton.' said the Matron expectantly. Some of the women remembered to curtsy, most did not, and were gruffly commanded to do so by a warder.

The man stood in front of them, and looked at each individually, and then started his address. When he spoke his tone was kindly, and with an underlying authority that was less offensive to Sophia's ear than she had found in any prison up to this point.

'I am Reverend Compton, Governor of this House of Correction. These officers will be responsible for you while you are here, and if you obey the rules, you will have no trouble. If however, you misbehave, we have a range of measures that will cause you to rethink your conduct, and repeat offenders may well find themselves sent to a less enlightened place such as one of the hulks, where you will find conditions much worse than they are here. The typhus outbreaks we have had in the past have been eliminated through a better water supply, and this establishment is now a model for all other prisons. You will have an opportunity here to improve yourselves through both education and religious instruction, and your attitude and progress in these important activities will influence the privileges you may be granted.'

He continued. 'The regulations here will be explained to you in full, but briefly, for the next four months, you are probationers and will each be allocated a separate cell where you will sleep. You will be required to work six days a week, for which you will be credited with a generous allowance to be paid to you upon your release. You will have an exercise period of one hour each day, but you are not permitted to talk to anyone at any time, nor receive any visitors. Your personal possessions if you have any will be taken away and kept safe, to be returned when you leave this establishment. Your hair will be cropped and no locks of hair are to be retained, but one may be sent to your mother, husband or such other relative. Those of you sentenced to transportation will be especially watched and your conduct here reported to the Colonial Office. It will influence your future conditions of confinement.'

Sophia sneered to herself, knowing that so far nothing had come of good conduct but trouble, and despite this clergyman's best efforts that situation would continue. Outwardly she remained expressionless lest the watching guards perceive her thoughts and single her out before she even found a bed. She carefully allowed her eyes to wander along the line of warders, examining each one to identify the weakest of them who might later be offered a bribe of some sort to provide extra comforts. They were mostly old, probably over 40 Sophia thought, except for Matron Sheppard who had a sterner visage and greater girth than the others, and was closer to 60. Compton went on:

'Principal Matron Sheppard is in charge of the women's section of the prison. She will explain the prison routine to you. I hope you will all see this as an opportunity to improve yourselves, and may God have Mercy upon you.' With a nod to the Matron, he abruptly turned and left the room.

'Now I will tell you all you need to know about the routine here.' said the Matron. 'From here you will be taken to your ward on the second floor of 'A' block where you will be issued with bedding and allocated to a cell. All your activities from now on will be signalled by bells. On each weekday and Saturday you will rise at first bell at five minutes to six, and be counted, at second bell at six am sweep out your cell, empty your slop bucket, and clean the entire ward until third bell at seven twenty five. You will then go to breakfast, then proceed to your work place which will be allocated to you this afternoon. Dinner will be at noon, then work again until six pm. Supper follows immediately and you return to your cell at six twenty pm.'

Sophia had heard it all before, and paid no attention to the rest of the speech. She wondered how she could make her time here more comfortable. Her new friend Mary standing next to her started to fidget as well.

Sophia knew she would be here for at least three months for assessment before the prison Superintendent decided her transportation destination. Norfolk Island, New South Wales or Van Diemen's Land were the only penal colonies available since Gibralta and Bermuda were reportedly full, and the American colonies had been lost in the War of Independence decades earlier. Norfolk was reserved for the worst criminals so Sophia expected that Van Diemen's Land would be the most likely one for her. Her conduct would in large part determine the degree of comfort or otherwise that she would experience here, but she wasn't about to be pushed around by other inmates or the guards.

When the Matron's speech was finished, they were led up two flights of iron stairs and into a long corridor lined with doors on either side. Sophia was allocated a cell, and her number and name were written on a card and slotted into the holder outside the door. She went inside to see what it was like. It was larger than the ones at Knutsford, and much better furnished, with a table, a wooden stool and a shelf in addition to the iron bed, straw mattress and slop bucket that she was familiar with, and there was a gas heater as well. As at Knutsford, the window was too high to see through. The cell door was similar to all the doors Sophia had seen here, and consisted of an outer iron latticework style, and an inner one of solid wood. With the wooden door open, additional air and light were admitted to the cell while the iron door provided security, but this was a privilege that could only be earned by good behaviour for the next 4 months.

There were two framed cardboard notices on the wall. The first was titled 'Scripture Card', and the other, 'Notice to Convicts'. Sophia started to read the second one.

1. Prisoners of good conduct, and maintaining a character for willing industry, will be enabled, after certain fixed periods, to obtain the higher stages and gain the privileges attached to them.

2. Until further orders, the following rules will be observed:.....

She read no further as the door opened and a warder and another prisoner carrying scissors entered the cell.

'Sit on the stool number two five four.' commanded the warder. 'It's time for your haircut.' Sophia sat and fought back tears as the prisoner took a handful of her hair and lopped it off. She saw her beautiful hair drop to the floor in clumps. There were no mirrors, but she could imagine what she looked like. When it was finished, she ran her hand over the short stubble that was left, and the warder asked, 'Do you wish to send a lock of your hair to anyone?'

Sophia saw no point in sending a lock to her family. 'No thank you Ma'am.'

'Very well, wait here for the dinner bell.'

The doors were closed and Sophia was alone again with her thoughts.

Ten minutes later the bell rang, and she heard the warder call out 'Stand to!' When her doors were unlocked she stepped outside and joined the queue heading to the kitchen. It was situated on the ground floor at the inner base of the pentagon, which attached at that point to Pentagon 4, so that the one kitchen serviced both women's pentagons and the 100 or so inmates in each one. The servery was staffed by a warder-cook assisted by five women prisoners who had reached a level of trust in the gaol to be allowed to work with dangerous items such as knives in the kitchen.

Sophia was hungry. The interior heating here was an improvement over Nether Knutsford, so perhaps the menu might be more palatable too. She was feeling uncomfortable in the new coarse prison clothing that rasped against her skin as she followed the queue. There was no talking, but the clatter of 100 tin mugs and spoons against tin plates was loud as the women were served and found their seats.

Sophia was given a piece of boiled meat, a boiled potato and a dry bread roll that looked as though it may have been baked fresh that day. Some of the water that the meat was boiled in found its way onto the plate and formed a sort of gravy that made the bread palatable if used to sop it up. No one was allowed to eat or even be seated until Grace was said, so women at the front of the queue had to stand behind their chairs and watch their meal cooling while waiting for the rest of the inmates to be served. Being last usually meant that the largest chunks were gone, leaving just shreds of meat in boiled water making a thin soup.

After dinner, the prisoners from 'A' Ward were due for exercise, and filed out to the courtyard. They spent an hour walking in a circle around the perimeter of the yard, maintaining a spacing of about five yards so that no one could speak without being noticed. Two warders stood in the middle of the yard to supervise the period. At the end of the hour, the prisoners were taken inside to their work places, and Sophia and Mary were allocated to the laundry. Prisoners under mild punishment for rule infractions usually did this work, and there were two other women already working in there for just that reason.

Sophia was angry that she should be given this task on her first day after having been trouble free since her arrest nearly five weeks ago.

'Mary this isn't fair.' she whispered. 'We haven't done anything to warrant this punishment work.'

'No Sophia we haven't.' said Mary through clenched teeth. 'I'd like to have it out with that Matron and I'd make her squeal I can tell you.'

Sophia looked around. The warder was just outside the door watching the corridor as well as the laundry. 'I'm not going to put up with this. We haven't done anything to deserve hard labour. I'm going to speak to the warder to find out why we've been given this job.'

Sophia walked to the doorway. The warder was immediately on guard at this unauthorised movement, and waited to see why Sophia had left her washtub without permission.

'Ma'am, why have I been given this punishment work? I've only been here a few hours and I've been singled out.'

'Number two five four Grantham isn't it?' asked the warder, taking Sophia by surprise. How did she know Sophia's name so soon among the new arrivals?

'Yes Ma'am. I was hoping to be allocated to sewing since I am very good at that.'

The warder seemed about to reprimand Sophia for speaking out, but hesitated, and then with a smugness that annoyed Sophia replied, 'Just at the moment there are not enough people undergoing punishment to carry out all the work here, so the Matron decided that in view of your previous bad record you two would have to fill in, as it were.' The warder seemed quite unsympathetic and even pleased with herself, and for the first time Sophia became aware that everything she did in the prison system was recorded and would follow her for the next seven years. The three days solitary confinement at Knutsford two years ago was noted on her record, and labelled her as a badly behaved prisoner. The realization that whatever she did from now on could never expunge her record enraged her.

Mary was apparently having similar thoughts because she suddenly swore at the warder, picked up a bucket of washing water and threw it over her. The other two prisoners scrambled to get out of the laundry to avoid involvement. The warder was busy wiping the soapy water from her eyes and so didn't see Sophia pick up her own bucket and follow Mary's example. As the soaked warder reached for the alarm bell hanging near the door, Sophia turned to Mary and said, 'I expect we'll be in solitary again soon.'

Mary grinned and said 'I'm sure it will be better than doing the washing.'

They stood calmly together waiting for the inevitable storm of retribution to descend upon them.

Principle Matron Sheppard was incensed by the assault on one of her officers, and immediately directed Sophia and Mary to undergo the maximum punishment that she could inflict without referring the incident to the Governor. She would do that later.

'Three days solitary confinement, with rations reduced to bread and water.' pronounced the Matron after a brief hearing of the facts. Sophia and Mary were led away separately.

Sophia expected to be confined to her cell as she had been at Knutsford, but she hadn't bargained on the foresight of the architect of this prison who had provided special punishment cells. She was taken to the top floor of her cell block where a row of specially fitted out cells awaited. She was propelled into one, and as she turned and swore at the warder, the first iron grated gate clanged shut. It was followed by an iron clad wooden door on its outside. That was followed by another door, and finally another lined with sound deadening straw was slid across the outside.

Sophia was completely cut off from the world. The only dim light filtered in through the ventilation grating high on the wall, which seemed to open into the loft space under the main roof of the cell block. Even in full daylight on the outside, it was nearly pitch black in here, and there was no sound but for the occasional muffled noise of some distant iron door opening and closing. This wasn't going to be the holiday she expected. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, she looked around and could just make out that the only furnishing in the room was a wooden platform in the corner with a crumpled bag of straw that was meant to be a mattress, and beside it, a slop bucket. That was all.

After hours lying on the hard bed in the darkness thinking about her life, and the events that put her in this cell, she heard noises at the door, faintly at first, but getting louder as each layer of security was removed. She sat up as the iron clad door opened, blinking as the unaccustomed light flooded into the cell. A warder pushed a bread roll and a mug of water through the grating, and retreated without a word, closing each successive door as she went.

This procedure was repeated at infrequent intervals, with Sophia only having the vaguest idea of when day ended and night began. Her mind started to play tricks and she felt that if she stayed much longer she would go insane. It wasn't just the darkness but the silence that affected her. She took to singing to herself to pass the time, and when she ran out of songs, she talked to herself and to imaginary people. Joseph Sadler was given a particularly vitriolic talking to. She decided that she didn't want to do solitary any more and would do whatever was necessary to follow the rules, and try to behave. Perhaps that would make her time here a bit easier.

Finally the three days ended, and the doors were opened.

'Two five four, step outside.'

Sophia closed her eyes against the bright light, and stumbled out. But instead of returning to her cell or the work rooms, she was taken to Matron Sheppard's office. There she saw Mary Sheady waiting outside. Mary was also shielding her eyes from the light, but they had no chance to speak. They were ushered into the office where the Matron stood behind her desk, leaning forward slightly with her hands on the back of her chair. Her look of satisfaction at seeing these prisoners obviously suffering made Sophia angry again. But she told herself to ignore such provocations, and just do as she was told.

'Two five four and four five four, the Governor has reviewed your conduct here and has decided that since this prison is so crowded, and some prisoners must be sent elsewhere, you are to be reallocated to one of the temporary prisons. You can expect to stay there until a transport ship is ready to take you to the Colonies.'

Sophia wasn't sure what this meant. Temporary prison didn't sound all that bad, certainly better than the punishment cells anyway.

'Your new home will be the Justitia which is moored just a few miles from here, and you should pray that a convict transport becomes available soon. In the meantime, it will serve to remind you that assaulting my officers brings serious consequences.'

Sophia felt sick. There had been stories in the newspapers for years about the hulks, especially the Warrior and its 400 male prisoners who suffered the highest death rate of any prison in the country. So this was all she could expect from the prison system. Each time she decided to do the right thing and follow the rules she was knocked down again. She hadn't heard of the Justitia, but imagined it would be similar to the Warrior. She was right. Before being dispatched to the hulk Sophia and Mary were stripped and washed thoroughly, then issued with the hulk uniform patterned with large yellow and black squares. Sophia thought it ironic that she had had more new clothes since being in prison than she ever had before.

# Chapter 7

# The Hulk

The Justitia was the unofficial flagship of the hulks used as temporary prisons, just through the length of time she had been in service. She was originally a privately owned timber hulled square rigged convict transport that had regularly sailed to the Americas, but became idle after the American War of Independence in 1776, and was tied up for years in the Thames before her owner leased her out as a prison hulk. Now, nearly 50 years later, she was completely rotten, deemed even too decrepit to be a hulk, and listed to be scrapped. She had been used for male convicts for most of the time, with up to 400 being crammed in at times. Most recently she been used for boy prisoners, but since the Parkhurst boy's prison was opened, they were progressively drafted away, and she was now being temporarily used for women to ease the overcrowding at Millbank. It was expected that most of them would be there only a short time before a transport ship became available.

There were five other hulks moored in the Thames, all for men. A hospital hulk was also moored nearby to receive the endless numbers of prisoners suffering the various ailments caused by the close confinement of so many people. Able bodied men were set to work dredging the river or clearing the river banks. They lived and worked in heavy leg irons, always at risk of disease and yet some would later claim that the conditions there were better than those in some shore prisons. Several even asked to spend their whole sentence on the hulks rather than return to the normal prisons. They were paid for their work, and were able to purchase basic items from a boat that cruised the river selling goods. At least one prisoner was known to have spent five years on a hulk and was released with a reasonable sum of money to start his life again. Nevertheless, to anyone within a mile downwind from any of these hulks, the stench of human waste and body odour was overpowering.

The Justitia was anchored near the northern bank to discourage escape. The hulk rested on the muddy bottom at low tide, but the water around it was still several feet deep. Few people could swim, so an intending escapee would have to wade through the mud to the river bank that was really the edge of a swamp that stretched for a mile before there was any solid ground. In its entire history as a hulk, attempted escapes had been rare and successful ones almost unheard of.

Fresh water was taken aboard each day from the Government Armoury on the south bank, but if delays occurred as they often did, water was simply lifted in buckets from the river. The foul waste water from each of the hulks found its way on the rising and falling tides to all the others. Contaminated water and close confinement provided an ideal breeding ground for disease, and most of the prisoners had succumbed at various times. As they deteriorated they were removed from the hulk to the hospital ship, but at any time there were many near death, awaiting removal. As vacancies occurred, they were filled by new arrivals. When Sophia and Mary climbed aboard the Justitia, there were already 125 of the worst female criminals in England chained below decks.

Female leg irons were lighter than their male equivalents, but still weighed around 8 pounds. The weight wasn't a problem, but knowing how far to step without reaching the limit of the short chain, which would tug the irons painfully against the ankles, was a skill learned quickly. At night another chain that was permanently attached to the ship was locked onto the leg irons tying the prisoners securely to the ship. Exercise periods were held on the main deck, 20 women at a time. The ones still below could hear the scraping and rattling of chains all day as successive groups walked around the deck for about half an hour before descending again into the dimly lit decks below. Food was brought aboard daily, and was surprisingly good considering the circumstances. It was certainly no worse than being last in the queue at the Millbank kitchen. Once a week prisoners washed themselves from buckets on the main deck, then washed the decks, and their hair was re-cut each month.

As at Millbank, the women were put to sewing during the day. They made prison uniforms mostly, but also military uniforms and some government workers uniforms at times. They were credited with an allowance for this work as well. The money could be claimed upon release after proving their identity and entitlement, but by then most were in the Colonies and didn't bother. Clergymen visited twice a week and conducted religious services. Afterwards they spoke to the prisoners individually, spending as much time as the women themselves wanted. Many of course wanted nothing to do with them after the compulsory service.

Sophia and Mary didn't encourage the clergy to talk to them, and didn't expend any energy in co-operating with the warders either, but were able to talk to each other for long periods while they were chained below, and at least in this respect it was better than Millbank. Weeks passed, Christmas came and went, only marked by additional religious services. The new year started, and Sophia had to think to work out that it was 1841 and she would be 20 years old in a few months. The weather was cold and foggy, but it was never really cold below decks as the mass of human bodies and poor ventilation maintained a cloying humid warmth.

The weeks dragged on, and Sophia and Mary had told each other everything about their lives, families, personal hopes, and the crimes for which they were now paying. They were finding less and less to say now, and lapsed into long periods of silence. Sophia got into trouble several times for failing to immediately do as she was told. She didn't care though. What else could they do to her?

Several women became violently insane as boredom and hopelessness took their toll. Those women were removed and sent to other gaols, and Sophia wondered how many of them were pretending to be mad, just to get out of the hulk. During their exercise periods Sophia could see the activities on the south bank of the river as small river boats came and went. Occasionally the prison draft boat would pass nearby carrying a load of male convicts to or from the other hulks. There was always some shouting back and forth between the male and female prisoners, much of it concerning what they would like to do with each other if they could get close enough.

January and February passed with no change in the routine, and Sophia wondered if she would ever get off this hulk. But, early one morning as she woke from her usual uncomfortable sleep, she heard bumping and scraping as a boat pulled alongside. Soon after, a warder came down the gangway and called out prisoner numbers. As each woman responded to her number she was unchained from the ship and taken on deck.

'Number two five four.'

Sophia could not believe it. She answered, and was unshackled from the permanent ship's chain, and escorted onto the main deck. Mary Sheady was next, following immediately behind her.

When they were all assembled there were some 50 women.

'You are all going back to Millbank. A transport ship has been arranged, and you should be on your way to Van Diemen's Land in a few days.' The warder stood at the rail double checking the numbers against her list as the prisoners, still wearing their leg irons, climbed down to the smaller draft boat.

# Chapter 8

# Hope

Back in the Millbank kitchen at dinner time, as the full complement of inmates ate their meal in silence, Sophia noticed Matron Sheppard and another younger woman in civilian clothes standing near the door talking and looking around the room at the prisoners. Sophia wondered what they were doing. They were clearly discussing various individuals, but after a few minutes they left. Mary saw them too. She whispered,

'Who do you think that woman is? She's too well dressed to be a prison official. She must have something to do with our transport ship.'

Sophia doubted that a woman like that would be involved with the unsavoury atmosphere of a convict ship, but didn't answer. Any further misdemeanour might extend her stay in this godforsaken place, and she didn't want that under any circumstances.

Later that evening after the usual supper of a pint of oatmeal gruel sweetened with molasses, and a dry bread roll, Sophia was lying on her bed when the door opened. She stood up as a warder opened the inner gate, and saw the civilian woman from the kitchen waiting to enter. The warder waited outside as the woman came in.

'Hello Miss Grantham, my name is Kezia Hayter.'

'How do you do Ma'am.' said Sophia curtsying in the approved manner. She saw that this woman was taller than herself, probably around 25 years old and was quite slim and attractive. Sophia immediately felt at ease with her. There had been no visitors in the last six months, so a new face was a welcome break from the monotony. Even the bible she carried didn't detract from her appearance. Another religious teacher didn't carry any more influence than all the others they'd had, but a new person, especially one not in uniform was welcome.

'Please sit down.' said the woman.

Sophia sat on the bed and the woman made herself comfortable on the stool.

'I am here representing the Ladies Reform Society and I've been permitted by Reverend Compton to speak to you ladies about our Society, and how I may be able to help you.' She paused to await some reaction from Sophia, since some of the other prisoners she had already spoken to had been less than happy to accept her help.

'Thank you Ma'am, I would be pleased to hear how you could help me.'

'As you may know, our patron is Mrs. Elizabeth Fry who opposes the transportation of ladies to the penal colonies, and is working to change the Government's policy on this matter.'

Sophia was sceptical, but was strangely drawn to this woman who had the same name that she had chosen for herself, and wanted to believe that she could help.

Miss Hayter continued. 'In the meantime, our Society has been helping the ladies who have been transported before you to gain skills that will enhance their future prospects for employment, and lead to a better life. A ship will soon be available to take you and others to Van Diemen's Land, and our Society hopes to use this group as an example to show that female prisoners are worthy of better treatment. I intend to travel on the ship with you, and to see that your good behaviour is recorded and suitably rewarded by the Colonial Office.'

Sophia was by now completely entranced by this woman.

'I have a project in mind that will demonstrate the worthwhile contribution that women can make. It will require the qualities of dedication and cooperation from a number of ladies, and the result will be able to be seen by all. By doing this, our Society hopes to further influence Government policy against transportation.'

Sophia wondered how this was going to help her own situation, but she felt compelled to support this woman.

Miss Hayter referred to some notes she had brought with her. 'Your record shows that you can read and write and were at one time a bonnet maker Miss Grantham.'

'Yes, I am good with needle work, and can design and make hats of all types.'

'Good.' said Miss Hayter. 'Your record also says you have been particularly badly behaved.'

Sophia visibly slumped. Here it was again. The record was going to disqualify her from this project. She started to explain how her record didn't really indicate her true nature, and she could do better. Kezia Heyter held up her hand, and Sophia stopped.

Miss Hayter went on. 'I have selected you especially because of your record. I hope to show that your bad behaviour was caused by being in prison rather than the other way around, and that given a reasonable opportunity, you can be as honest and hard working as anyone. I will be reporting your conduct on the voyage to the Governor when we arrive in Van Diemen's Land, and I expect that good behaviour will be rewarded with immediate assignment to a position in the general community, so you won't have to spend any more time in gaol.'

Sophia didn't know whether to be happy at being selected or angry that she was considered so bad that she was worthy of selection. She decided that any change from the usual prison routine would be desirable, and an immediate assignment sounded promising. Her ambitions to be rich had been at least temporarily displaced by a desire to get out of gaol.

'Yes Ma'am, I was provoked into doing things that I would not usually think of, and I would like to help with your project. What will I have to do?'

'I don't have time to explain it all now, as I have yet to speak to a number of other women. I will talk to you again when we are on the ship. That should be within the next few weeks.'

After Kezia Hayter had gone, Sophia thought over what she had said. Sophia knew nothing about the administration of convicts in the colonies, but perhaps this was finally the stroke of luck she needed to get out of this endless misery. If she could work hard and get a good report perhaps her sentence could be reduced. At least an assignment to a fair master would make life easier. She went to sleep feeling more optimistic about her future than she had at any time since starting work at the Manor.

# Chapter 9

# The Rajah

The convict ship was tied up at the Woolwich docks on the south side of the river not far from the Penitentiary. This ship had never been used as a convict transport before, and needed some modifications to accommodate people rather than the cargoes it normally carried. The owners had accepted a request by the Government to use it for one convict run to ease the chronic overcrowding in the prisons. Captain Charles Ferguson was a Scotsman who had sailed around the world several times during his many years at sea, and had been to Van Diemen's Land before. The ship's crew was experienced but had never carried large numbers of women let alone convicts before. They were not sure what to expect, but had heard stories of promiscuity on other vessels, and some of the seamen were especially looking forward to this voyage.

To maintain order, there was a Principle Warder and three other warders sailing with them, under the direction of the Surgeon Superintendent James Donovan MD, on special leave from the Navy. Twenty convict women were selected to be an advance party aboard the ship, to act as cooks, and deck or mess captains. They had specific responsibilities and duties, and carried the authority of the Superintendent to help control the prisoners. They were on notice however that any transgressions on their part would see them returned to the ranks of the common criminal. Sophia had been nominated by Miss Hayter to be in this advance party, but Mary Sheady's aggressive personality hadn't impressed Miss Hayter and she was not selected, even though she did agree to take part in the special project.

Sophia had no illusions though that this would be easy. Some of the older and tougher women had threatened her for cooperating with a penal system that they despised, and had promised to make life difficult for anyone who did so. Nevertheless, this was an opportunity to perhaps gain some extra points that would count towards her being given a better job when they reached Hobart Town. It was generally believed that being assigned to work for a free settler would make the sentence more bearable, and avoid the harsh treatment that seemed endemic in all prisons.

On the 19th of March 1841 Sophia and the rest of the advance party were marched down to the dock below the Millbank prison walls where a boat waited to ferry them across the river to the waiting ship. It was a relief to leave the prison after months of solitary cells, the hulk, and being subjected to the silent treatment. Once again, Sophia experienced a feeling of optimism that things would improve from here on.

As the ferry approached the dock, Sophia caught her first glimpse of the ship. She had spent three months on the Justitia but of course had never gone to sea, and a mixture of excitement and apprehension gripped her. Stories of storms and seasickness that she had heard, along with tales of shipwreck, became somewhat more real to her as she got closer. The ship appeared about 100 feet long and 30 feet wide amidships, with three square-rigged masts. The hulk had had no masts or rigging whereas this ship seemed a forest of masts and spas with ropes taught or dangling loose, most of them to Sophia's inexperienced eye, having no apparent purpose. There was a general bustle of activity as dock workers loaded provisions, officers barking orders to the seamen to stow equipment below, and now the addition of 20 women prisoners, the first of the two hundred or so that would eventually make the one way voyage, arriving to further complicate shipboard activities.

The ferry tied up at the wharf behind the ship and Sophia saw its name displayed in large carved letters on the stern. 'RAJAH'. 'What a strange name', thought Sophia. The women were off-loaded onto the wharf and were then marched up the Rajah's gangway and onto the main deck, where they were counted and signed for by the First Mate. He was dressed in ordinary seaman's clothes rather than the uniform Sophia was expecting. This was clearly not a Navy transport. Sophia's heart sank as she recalled the stories of contracted vessels, whose owners were paid according to the number of prisoners embarked in England rather than the number landed successfully in the Colonies, and who therefore paid little heed to convicts welfare. If they died on the voyage, the bodies were dumped overboard and their unused rations could be sold at premium prices in the Colonies to increase profits even more. She had not heard that the Government's response was to give special leave to Navy doctors to sail with them to ensure that the convicts were properly looked after.

The Mate turned to another man. 'Mister Stevens, take these women below and square them away if you please. The doctor wants to examine them before we do anything else.' Stevens also wore no uniform but seemed to be a junior officer because he summoned two of the seamen from their loading duties to take the women below deck. Sophia followed the others down the steep gangway into an unevenly lit but seemingly cavernous area of open space with what appeared to be cabins for'ard and aft. The only interruption to the space was caused by the thick trunks of the three masts that passed through all the decks to the keel, and the floor to ceiling iron bars across the deck amidships that divided the area into two large cells.

The roof formed by the deck above was very low, even for Sophia who at 5 feet tall was of average height, and she had to be careful not to bump her head against the thick cross beams. Those beams were fitted at regular intervals with hooks that Sophia could see were the sling points for the hammocks that would soon provide the sleeping quarters for some 60 women on this deck alone. There were four double bunks at the stern next to the cabins. Daylight and ventilation was admitted through four gratings, two for'ard and two aft of the main mast, but at each end of the ship only ventilation pipes were provided, so little natural light ever reached there. Sophia tried to imagine what it would look like once the rest of the convicts came aboard, and decided it was going to be crowded, so she had better select a prime hammock space now while she could.

They were taken to the bow of the ship where two sick bays occupied the triangular space from the bow aft about 20 feet to the point where the deck widened to the maximum width of the hull. The doctor's desk and chair, a cupboard crammed with pills and potions and two bunks was all that equipped this floating medical facility. Doctor Donovan's first action was to examine the women for illness, and to assess their mental suitability for the special tasks they would be given. He found them all in tolerably good health, and proceeded to read the rules and regulations that would govern their lives aboard ship. Every group that arrived from now on would be read aloud these instructions before they were given their medical check.

'You are to conduct yourself in a respectful and becoming manner to all officers and to strictly obey all orders that I may issue.

You must behave in a decent manner at all times, especially during Divine Service.

Cursing and foul language, shouting, quarrelling, fighting, selling, exchanging or giving away clothing is forbidden.

Stealing from each other or from the ship's stores will be severely punished.

Prisoners are not to speak to the ship's company or to the warders unless spoken to.

Each mess will have a captain who will wash eating utensils on the main deck after each meal.

Mess captains are responsible for the cleanliness of their mess, and to see that prisoners wash themselves every morning.

Washing or drying clothes or striking lights below decks is forbidden.

Mess captains will receive their food rations from the cook house. Two additional inspectors will be appointed in rotation to distribute the rations. If any are found of bad quality or deficient in weight, they are to submit them to me for examination before passing the quarterdeck. After that it will be too late to complain.

A night watch will be set at eight pm, and they are responsible for the peace and good order of the prisoners at night. They are also to see that only one prisoner at a time visits the water closet.

Bedding is to be taken on deck to be aired every morning, weather permitting, then rolled up and stored until evening.

Any complaint about language or treatment by the ship's company or warders is to be reported to me.

Mess captains are to attend the cleaning of the deck to see that it is done properly.' He looked at the group and went on, 'Remember that your future prosperity and happiness will depend on your good conduct on board, and will be reported to the Governor of the Colony on our arrival.'

With that, he asked for volunteers for mess captains, cooks and medical orderlies. Sophia thought that her experience in the kitchen at the Manor best fitted her as a cook, so she volunteered and was accepted. Doctor Donovan handed the women back to Mister Stevens to get them squared away.

Second Officer Stevens was aged about 25 Sophia guessed, and good looking in a rugged sort of way, but was clearly unused to speaking with a group of women of any social class. Perhaps to hide his nervousness or to show off his knowledge he commenced by giving them a description of the ship, which although the women found less than interesting, realized it would pass some idle time before they would have to start work. Mustering his most authoritative tone, Stevens began.

'This ship is named Rajah. It was built only five years ago for the East India trade, and has never been used as a convict ship before. It is not a prison ship, so you will find the conditions here better than most ships used for that purpose. The ship has four decks, we are on the upper deck, above us is the main deck, quarter deck and foc'sl, while below are the lower deck and the orlop deck at the water line. Below that are the storage holds for provisions, water and other cargo as well as the sail room and carpenter's and bosun's stores.'

He paused to see how his audience was reacting to this information, and although seeing no sign of enthusiasm, decided to continue. 'Most of the crew live in the foc'sl, and the cook and wash houses are also there. The Captain's and officers' accommodation and mess are at the stern, immediately below the quarter deck. Here on the upper deck there are sixty hammock spaces that will be fully utilized. They will be divided into two messes. Up for'ard are two sick bays, one each for convicts and crew. At the stern are five cabins for passengers. The lower deck will hold another eighty prisoners in four messes along with the Surgeons cabin, and wc's at the stern, and below that on the orlop deck another forty can be accommodated if necessary, and at the bow, we have built cells for anyone deserving of them.'

Warming to his lecture he continued. 'Captain Ferguson has been at sea for many years, and he will not want any trouble with crew or passengers. You may expect to be treated as well as possible given your circumstances, and if you behave well we may all have a pleasant voyage.' This remark caused a general murmur from the women who all knew it was a one way trip for them, and anything but a pleasure cruise. Sensing his error, Stephens stammered, 'Well, a safe voyage anyway.' And to hide his embarrassment further, added, 'You will find the Captain is a fair man but hard on anyone breaking the rules.' With that, Stevens ordered the seamen to remain with the prisoners and turned towards the gangway.

Sophia watched him walk away and wondered whether this might turn out to be a better voyage than she had expected. She claimed a hammock space amidships on the assumption that there would be less pitching and rolling at the midpoint of the ship than nearer to the bow or stern. There were no additional chains on the ship to tie the women down at night, but it seemed as though there would be no relief from their leg irons.

During the following two weeks another 160 women from Millbank and Newgate prisons were brought aboard, and apart from some arguments over hammock spaces, it all went smoothly. Some of the women had children, and there were eventually ten on board. As each group of prisoners arrived they were assembled on deck and read aloud the rules and regulations, and the daily routine to be observed. The children were allocated to the bunks at the stern, and those between four and eight years old had to share, two or three to a bunk. The younger ones slept with their mothers in the remaining bunks.

Doctor Donovan examined every prisoner and rejected some who were ill. There were four instances of mental breakdown resulting in those women being returned to Millbank, and he noted in his journal that all the mental seizures and fits that occurred were in convicts from Millbank, where the silent treatment was enforced. No such episodes occurred to prisoners from Newgate where there was no silent system. He had some arguments with the prison authorities about the suitability of these women. Their priority was to move convicts on to make room in the prison, while the doctor saw his job as ensuring that everyone who started this voyage did so with a good expectation of finishing it alive and well.

By the first week of April, all the prisoners and passengers including Kezia Hayter were on board. She had arrived with two trunks in addition to her luggage, and befitting her special status, was given the Second Mate's cabin below the quarter deck opposite the Captain's. Second Mate Stevens was to be accommodated in one of the passenger cabins below. He was less than happy with being downgraded, but the only other available space was in the crew's quarters in the foc'sl, and that was not acceptable to either the officers or the crew. Even using the aft gangway to minimise the walk through the throng of women, he had to pass many of them each time he came and went from his cabin. There were plenty of offers from them to clean his cabin and share his bed, the more daring women displaying their breasts and making specific offers of sex as he passed, in the hope of being selected. Stevens wasn't unduly surprised by their coarse utterances. He'd been in many rough waterfront pubs in various places around the world, and had heard women speak like this many times. He'd had his share of female company too, and was impressed with some of the displayed bosoms. He decided that if the opportunity arose he might just take advantage of one or two of the offers.

Shipboard routine was invoked as the convicts came aboard so that by the time they put to sea everyone would know where they had to be at any time. As a cook, Sophia had to be on deck at 4am each morning to start breakfast while the others slept in until 5:30 when mess captains had to get their people up, have wash tubs filled and get bedding aired and stowed. From 6am to 7am prisoners were allowed on the main deck one mess at a time, to wash themselves. Then at 7am the ship's company started washing the main deck and wc's. Breakfast was at 8am. Sophia was able to eat as she worked, and was finished work by the time the last prison mess was served. After breakfast all prisoners were brought on deck while the lower decks were scrubbed and inspected, and then school started. Half the prisoners went below while the rest remained, as women who could read and write conducted lessons. That lasted for about an hour. Dinner at midday was the reheated leftovers from breakfast, followed by deck sweeping and afternoon school for the second half of the women. At 4pm hammocks were un-stowed and taken to the messes. Supper at 4:30 was followed by prayers at 6:30, and all prisoners were below and in their hammocks by 8:30pm. Rounds by the night watch ensured no talking or noise of any kind after 9pm. Prisoners washed their clothing by messes, one mess each day. Sophia was bored by the basic instruction being given at school but was made to attend, so she sometimes found extra work to keep her in the galley as long as possible. The routine was the same every day except Sunday when Divine Services replaced school lessons.

It was rumoured that they were to sail on the morning ebb tide, and that was confirmed when a final census of prisoners was taken, with each being interviewed again to ensure that their details were recorded correctly. The bureaucracy was nothing if not thorough. Sophia's entry read:

Name Kezia/alias Sophia Grantham

Crime: Larceny

Where convicted: Knutsford

When: 19 October 1840

Sentence: 7 years

Married/Single: Single

Read or Write: Both

Trade: Bonnet Maker

Gaolers Report: One Felony before

Character on Hulk: Bad

It was going to be a long time before she was back in England, but she had no doubt that when her sentence was over she would return. Her knowledge of Van Diemen's Land and New South Wales had conveyed an impression of a poor and unhappy country where there would be no opportunity to make her fortune. So returning to England gave her the only chance of attaining that dream that still surfaced during her moments of idle thought. She had long since finished being homesick and missing her family, and looked forward with a combination of excitement and fear to the voyage, and an uncertain but perhaps still fruitful future. She just had to survive the next six years.

# Chapter 10

# The Voyage

As the first streaks of light appeared on the eastern horizon on Monday the 5th of April 1841, Sophia was already in the foc'sl galley when she heard a general increase in noise from the main deck as lines were cast off. A steamer strained to haul the heavy ship away from the wharf and out into the main channel where the ebbing tide was gathering speed. From her position Sophia could watch the city where she had spent the last seven months recede into the distance. With the steamer towing, and the current assisting, they reached the river mouth in less than four hours. There, the steamer cast off the towline, the Rajah's sails were let go, filled by a stiff northerly wind, and she was on her own. Voyages to Van Diemen's Land usually took around 4 months depending on both the weather and the route taken. Some ships called at Cape Town in South Africa to take on water, but Captain Ferguson intended making a non stop trip, weather permitting.

The ship pitched fore and aft as the fast flowing currents in the English Channel fought against the opposing wind and caused the surface to become choppy. Sophia stayed in the galley as long as possible to look at the receding land and satisfy her curiosity about what the ocean looked like. The sky was overcast and the water looked grey and cold with white caps appearing and disappearing as the swells came and went. Sophia had never been in deep water, let alone learned to swim, and her involuntary shiver wasn't just from the cold. She hoped that she wasn't going to get seasick, and decided that the ocean was not going to be her favourite place.

The first day at sea passed uneventfully except for some seasickness among the women, although Sophia didn't suffer it. Captain Ferguson had inspected the ship to see that all was well, and that the convicts were as comfortable as conditions allowed. Apart from some lewd offers from several of the women, he was satisfied with the conduct of his unwilling passengers. Miss Hayter had been with him on his tour, and wasn't happy with the women being chained. She convinced the Captain that it wasn't necessary to restrain the women since there was nowhere for them to escape to. So, as the ship cleared Land's End on the 10th of April and entered the Atlantic Ocean, he gave the order for the convicts' leg irons to be removed. They were only to be replaced as punishment, or when the ship approached land again. They were still confined below deck except for the authorised periods, but were able to move freely and make themselves more comfortable than the leg irons would have allowed. For most of them it was the first time in at least 3 months that they had been freed from the irons, and apart from the usual cynics, most were grateful to the Captain and Miss Hayter.

The weather was good, the swells moderate, with a fair wind blowing. Despite the cramped conditions the women for the most part got along reasonably well. The always cheerful Kezia Hayter energetically encouraged the women to take part in social activities and reading groups to help pass the time. Miss Hayter proved to be an excellent choice for this task, and throughout the voyage was able to motivate most of the women while at the same time containing the inevitable sexual contacts between the more promiscuous women and the crew. Her own relationship with Captain Ferguson started as purely professional, but by the end of the trip, they were well on the way to matrimonial bliss. Thus this voyage progressed far better than some of those before it had done.

After a few days at sea, with everyone settled into their routines, and the convicts' chains removed, Miss Hayter summoned the 30 women she had interviewed at Millbank to tell them about her special project. Sophia was eager to find out what it was. They assembled near the for'ard sick bay, and Miss Hayter told them to sit on the deck. Sarah Donnerly who had been tried at Knutsford the same day as Sophia was in the group. They hadn't seen each other much since arriving at Millbank as Sarah had avoided being sent to the hulk, but her experience at making lace ensured her selection for this project. Another woman named Maria Musgrove had been a dressmaker, and was convicted of stealing clothing. She had a three year old daughter named Mary Ann who she was allowed to bring with her, and who was now sitting with her mother, waiting to see what would happen. Sophia noted that most of the women in the group were either from Scotland or from Cornwall, with two or three from Ireland, and there was one from America.

When all were settled and looking up expectantly at her, Miss Hayter began.

'Ladies, as you know Elizabeth Fry's organization to which I belong, believes that women should not be transported to penal colonies for any reason.' She was interrupted by sounds of approval from the assembled convicts. 'But until it can be stopped, we will try to promote good conduct by the occupation of the mind with worthwhile pursuits during the voyage and avoid the trouble that always comes with the boredom of spending months at sea.'

She opened one of the trunks that Sophia had seen her bring on board. It was stuffed with fabrics of all colours and patterns. A smaller box contained a number of small bags, each containing sets of sewing equipment including needles and thread, scissors and all the accessories required for sewing. Sophia's excitement increased. She loved to sew, and at last she was going to be allowed to do so.

'All female convict ships in the past have been supplied with these sewing implements but there has never been any suitably completed project at the end of the voyage to show to the Colonial Office. We believe that by having a suitably impressive example of your skills, they may be persuaded that women could be better employed than being banished to the far side of the world.'

Murmurs of approval again rippled through the group.

'My idea is that we should design and make a patchwork quilt from this material here. Each of you has been employed in some capacity concerned with sewing, so I expect that we can make something that will be quite impressive. Captain Ferguson has kindly agreed that you ladies can work on this quilt on the main deck when the weather permits, instead of attending school. You will still have to do your usual duties with all the other women though.'

Sophia didn't care. If she could sew all day she would be happy to scrub all night if necessary, and missing that school was a bonus.

'First we need a design. I have some paper and pencils here, and I'd like you to devise some patterns that we can incorporate into the quilt.'

Some of these women had never held a pencil before, but those that could write started eagerly sketching designs. Some wanted flowers, some wanted birds and others wanted odd shapes of mixed colours and patterns. After some time, Miss Hayter collected the various scribblings, and looked through them.

'There are some very nice ideas here.' She said. 'I will take them away and see if I can put them together into one pattern. I will be back here tomorrow with something for your approval.'

Sophia was disappointed that she couldn't get on with it straight away, but it was a long voyage, so there wasn't any hurry.

Next day as promised, Miss Hayter returned with a sketch incorporating all the ideas, and after some discussion and a few changes, all agreed that the design was satisfactory, and the cutting out began. Over the next six weeks, Sophia and the others spent several hours each day cutting out pieces and stitching parts together under the overall supervision of Miss Hayter. It was her job to see that all the smaller sub patterns were going to finally fit together.

Sophia was feeling better now than she had for months because the voyage was relatively comfortable, at least compared to the hulk and the prison cells she'd occupied in the last few months. The weather was warm, and she had never seen such a bright sun. At the equator the winds dropped and they were becalmed for three days. It was oppressive below decks, even with all the air vents wide open, but Sophia didn't mind. Sewing for a couple of hours a day was a joy, and the quilt was starting to take shape.

Many of the women and crew were also enjoying the trip in their own way. Sexual contact was frequent between them, and Second Officer Stevens was making the most of his cabin near the source of untapped promiscuity. The Minister Reverend Davies and his wife denounced such sinful behaviour, but were mostly ignored. They stayed on deck whenever possible, and conducted their bible classes with enthusiasm. Sophia had noted the activities in Stevens' cabin, and decided she wouldn't be a part of it. Stevens was too busy to notice her anyway, and there were no other eligible looking men in the crew. In fact some of them looked decidedly unclean. Making the quilt was sufficient for her personal needs, so she got on with her duties and looked forward each day to putting more pieces of the quilt together. The women's sewing skills varied somewhat, as did stitching styles. The more experienced sewers used small close stitches, while those less talented ended up with larger and less orderly styles. Some of the older women's eyesight wasn't good and a few bits of fabric were found later to be included with their patterns on the wrong side. The occasional pricked finger dropping blood on it also marred the fabric, but Miss Hayter didn't worry too much about that, since they had to finish the quilt before landing at Hobart Town.

The major work on the quilt was completed by the time they reached the southern ocean latitudes well south of Cape Town where it was cold again, coming into the southern hemisphere winter. Miss Hayter had one additional idea to mark the significance of her project. She had left a plain blank space at the centre of one border of the design, and now wrote an inscription to be embroidered in to it. She had noted Sophia's skill with fine needle work and asked her to do this last piece of work. Sophia was thrilled to be selected, and set about embroidering in her very best handiwork. When she was finished it read:

To the Ladies of the

Convict Ship Committee

This quilt worked by the Convicts

of the ship Rajah during their voyage

to Van Diemen's Land is presented as a

testimony of the gratitude with which

they remember their exertions for their

welfare while in England and during

their passage and also as a proof that

they have not neglected the Ladies

kind admonitions of being industrious

June 1841

When it was finally completed the quilt was displayed for all to see. By the time all the patterns were worked in, there were more than 2800 individual pieces of fabric. It measured over 10 feet on each side, and was very colourful and intricate. Even the cynics were impressed, and Captain Ferguson congratulated the women on their efforts. Miss Hayter was justly proud of her project. The quilt was rolled up and taken to Miss Hayter's cabin. Sophia wondered if it would influence the Government's policy on female transportation, but if not, she was pleased to have been part of it anyway. She could not know that, far from influencing transportation laws, nearly 150 years would pass before this quilt was ever seen by any Government Official.

# Chapter 11

# Van Diemen's Land

The weather was mostly fine during their fast crossing of the southern ocean, but the seas were rough and the following wind quite strong. Captain Ferguson had steered a course well to the south of the Van Diemen's Land latitude for two reasons. Firstly the winds became stronger at more southerly latitudes, making for a faster passage. Secondly in the last 40 years many ships had arrived off the west coast of Van Diemen's Land at night or in poor visibility, and found that by the time the crew heard breakers on the rocky shore they were unable to steer away because of the gale force following winds, and had joined the growing list of ships lost in the final stages of an otherwise uneventful voyage.

The Rajah was therefore approaching Hobart Town from the south so that if a change of course was required the wind would assist. This meant being beam on to the wind and sea for the last few days, making the ship list and roll severely, but it was the safe option. The extreme southerly latitude also meant it was very cold, and the women were feeling it. Nevertheless the ship was in good condition and its prisoners and crew remained dry. Surgeon Donovan had had little to do throughout the voyage, and he was feeling pleased that his stand at Woolwich in taking only fit women would now result in everyone arriving in good health.

Even though Sophia knew that her limited freedom was going to end as soon as they arrived in Hobart Town, she nevertheless looked forward to being on dry land again, with proper food and a bed that didn't sway all night. They had been at sea for over three months and the crew had told the women they expected to sight land soon. Then on the morning of the 16th of July an albatross was seen flying around the ship, then later that day other sea birds were sighted, so they knew land was not far off.

Next day as land was sighted for the first time, Captain Ferguson passed the order that all prisoners were to be chained again, for the first time since leaving the English Channel. Sophia knew from her school map that Van Diemen's Land was a large island roughly 250 miles by 200, and there was nowhere to go if anyone tried to swim ashore, but many women had never seen a map, and there was a rumour that China was only a few weeks walk to the north. Sophia didn't attempt to argue, just let these poor unfortunates have their daydreams and make impossible plans to escape.

The mountainous landscape that they could occasionally see in the distance looked rugged and forbidding, intermittently shrouded in rain squalls and low cloud. They were now in the lee of the island, and the ship was no longer rolling under the influence of the southern ocean swells. This at least made the chains a little more bearable. Kezia Hayter made a last tour of the convict decks to wish them well, and retreated to her cabin to get ready to disembark. Doctor Donovan also made a final check of convicts and to his dismay found one woman seriously ill from dysentery. Sarah Parfitt had been ill for several days, but hid herself away rather than tell anyone. He treated her as best he could, but she died with Hobart in sight.

The ship hove to and dropped anchor in fading light, about a mile off shore, at 4pm on Monday the 19th of July 1841. It was standard procedure for all ships to remain at anchor until the Hobart authorities could check for illness and carry out yet another census of prisoners. Skilled labour was in short supply in the colony, and this census was more about the skills they possessed rather than the crimes they had committed. Convicts who could contribute their skills were given jobs where that expertise would benefit the colony. Some quick thinking convicts exaggerated their skills to obtain better assignments, while those without skills or with unacceptable attitudes finished up on road and bridge construction gangs. Women were usually assigned as servants, and if they stayed out of trouble, had a reasonably uneventful period of detention, and then became ordinary law abiding citizens after release.

Any transgression during detention though was rewarded with harsh punishment. Flogging was common among male convicts, while hard labour and solitary confinement was the usual punishment in the Female Houses of Correction. For the worst re-offenders a stint in Port Arthur was the ultimate penalty, while the hulk Anson moored in the bay off Hobart Town was an intermediate punishment for females. The penal settlement originally built at Macquarie Harbour on the west coast had been deemed too cruel and had been closed down some years before Sophia arrived. Few convicts spent their entire sentence in cells, and some went on to become prominent and rich citizens in the new land.

Soon after the anchor was let go, the women were mustered on deck and Sophia climbed the gangway for what she hoped would be the last time. She looked across the expanse of water towards the shore, seeing a line of timber buildings along the waterfront and a few ships tied up alongside. The dominant feature that she noticed though, was a mountain, just visible through the gloom, that filled the scene behind the settlement. Its top was hidden in cloud, but it looked enormous to Sophia. Lowering her gaze she saw that a boat was approaching from the shore, and was already less than 300 yards away. As it came closer, she could see a dozen or so rowers, and one official looking man at the stern. The boat pulled alongside and the official climbed the rope ladder dropped over the side by the ship's crew. The man spoke briefly to the Captain and Surgeon Donovan, and then turned to the assembled throng.

'I am the Hobart Town Port Officer. I will be inspecting the ship, and if any of you have any complaints about your treatment on the voyage, make them now.'

There was a general murmur from the women, and Sophia heard someone behind her say; 'Who does he think he's fooling? Who would do anything about our complaints?'

After a moment when no one spoke up, he turned and spoke to the First Officer, then both of them walked to the gangway and went below. After about 15 minutes, they reappeared with the Port Officer apparently satisfied with the general state of the ship. The body of Sarah Parfitt, wrapped in canvas, was lowered into the boat and it was cast off to row ashore. Sophia and the rest were dismissed and sent below for the night. By then another boat had arrived to take off the newspapers, mail and Government despatches brought from London.

At about 9 o'clock next morning following the usual morning routine under an overcast sky, the prisoners were again paraded shoulder to shoulder in chains on the main deck. Sophia saw that the Rajah was now tied up at the main wharf. Three men appeared on the dock and climbed the gangway to the main deck. They were the Colonial Secretary, the Colonial Surgeon and the Muster Master. The Captain greeted them, and after a short conversation Ferguson, Donovan and two of them went to the Captain's cabin to receive the official record of the voyage including the Surgeon's report, while the third man counted the prisoners. He was the Muster Master, and would interview each prisoner to record personal details, work history and skills. Sophia was impatient to get off the ship, but was told to wait with about 30 others near the foc'sl. Settling into a sheltered spot in the lee of the deck she could watch the proceedings as women were processed and escorted in groups of ten, still in chains, and loaded into one of several horse drawn carts waiting on the dock. As each cart filled, it moved off. Soon after the last one left, the first one was back for another load.

Sophia could see the dock workers looking on with interest at the women as they went ashore. Women were in short supply in this town and the new arrivals were ogled and commented loudly upon as each stepped ashore. The women for their part returned the comments with interest, surprising a few of the men with their crude replies. Half-hearted efforts by the constables, most of them ex-prisoners themselves, to prevent this interplay were ignored by dockworkers and prisoners alike. During the morning Sophia watched as the patchwork quilt was carried off the ship, followed by Kezia Hayter and the Reverend Davies and his wife. She idly wondered what would happen to the quilt and the woman who had inspired its creation, but suspected that she would never know.

When her turn eventually came to speak to the Muster Master, Sophia gave her occupation as bonnet maker hoping that she would be allocated to some place where she could enjoy her only real skill. But as her group formed up ready to march off to a cart, they were informed that they would be boarding another ship instead. Mary Sheady was separated from Sophia's group, and Sophia watched her board a cart. There went her best friend.

Sophia was nervous about being separated from the majority. What did it mean? Were they going to be taken to Sydney, the only other convict settlement Sophia had heard of in New South Wales? No they were told, a female prison had been built at Launceston in the north of the island, and they would be sailing there in the Government brig Lady Franklin tomorrow. This news was greeted with moans and curses as they realized they would be spending at least another four nights aboard a ship. Sophia had had enough of sailing and all its attendant hardships, and never wanted to set foot on a ship again. But they were taken to the Lady Franklin moored further along the dock and, supervised by three guards, were squared away for the night.

Next morning they set sail under a grey and overcast sky. They retraced the Rajah's previous day's inward course across Storm Bay, but this time turning east around the Tasman Peninsular, then northeast along the coast. The weather was cold and rain squalls passed frequently, but there were some periods of sunshine, and Sophia managed to see some of the scenery during the exercise periods. It looked rugged and there were no signs of habitation but she thought that under different circumstances it would have been a beautiful country.

Three days later the coastline turned west, and the ship followed. The sea had been calm up to then, but now as they beat into the wind, westward through Bass Strait, the sea was rougher than Sophia had ever experienced. The boat pitched wildly throwing freezing spray over everyone who had the misfortune to be on deck. Water found its way through the ventilation grates to dribble down to the prisoner's deck, making everything damp as well as cold. The prisoners' exercise period was cancelled that day. Next morning they reached the entrance to a large waterway and turned south into the sheltered waters. The women were brought on deck to dry out, and Sophia saw a settlement on the left bank. It was the first sign of habitation since leaving Hobart. One of the guards told them it was George Town, and it would have been their destination a few years ago, but now they were going another 40 or so miles up-river to the newer prison. The women were taken below and Sophia wasn't able to see her final destination until after the ship docked. There, at midday, with little further formality and no chance to take in their surroundings, the women disembarked and were marched just a few hundred yards to the Female House of Correction, colloquially known as the Factory.

# Chapter 12

# The Factory

The Female Factory at Launceston was built amid great fanfare and high expectations that it would improve the local economy, and make the allocation of convicts to free settlers easier than the long ride to George Town had done. The local newspaper had reported in 1833 that:

'It is a fine building, well put together, and much credit is due to the contractor for the superior manner in which it is being erected.'

But by 1837 when its operation was clearer, the same paper reported:

'This establishment we hear continues to be wholly useless. The female convicts hold it in the utmost contempt as a place of punishment.'

It was well known that convicts could bribe guards to let them out at night to go 'on the town' making money from prostitution. Those who were caught were dealt with harshly, usually being sent to Hobart, but it didn't deter others from continuing the practice.

Sophia's first impression was of a stockade with high timber fences surrounding four timber dormitories, with several outbuildings for the kitchen and wash houses, as well as the guard's quarters. In the centre with a view of all other buildings was the Superintendent's house. A Matron was always appointed, and in most cases was the wife of the Superintendent. The complex was built to house a maximum of 200 women, but as Sophia was to find later, this number would be far exceeded as ships continued to arrive, offloading convicts at a rate faster than the colony could absorb them.

Once again the prisoners were put through the induction process, and were issued with two dresses of coarse material, two aprons, two cloth caps, two handkerchiefs and two pairs of cotton socks. Sophia had worn-in her Millbank dresses and they had been comfortable by the end of the voyage. Now she had to start again with raspy seams irritating her skin. Superintendent Robert Pearson watched the procedure, then took the women's records back to his office to examine their skills and conduct, to see how many were worthy to be assigned to local settlers as domestic servants.

After being fed the standard Factory dinner of one slice of bread and a pint of soup, made in bulk from 25 pounds of meat boiled in 25 gallons of water and thickened with whatever vegetables were on hand, the new inmates were allocated bunks. Within minutes, they were approached by several tough looking women who introduced themselves as The Flash Mob, a name coined in Hobart by the newspaper editor to describe a group of convict women there who practiced 'frightful abominations of vice, immorality and iniquity.' This group attempted to emulate their Hobart cousins. They were proud of their notoriety and told the newcomers that they were really in control of this place. If anyone wanted to join their group, they would be welcomed. Sophia was intimidated by this gang, and wouldn't commit herself until she could find out what was going to happen to her.

She didn't have to wait long. Next morning after eating the usual slice of bread and pint of gruel for breakfast, the 30 new prisoners were lined up before the Superintendent. He was a portly man, about 5 feet 4 inches tall with a round face. He didn't look to have the same air of authority that Sophia had seen in the Superintendents of English prisons, and he stood on an upturned box so that those at the back of the group could see him.

'I have examined your records, and the recommendations made by your supervisors on the ship. Many of you will need to show a marked improvement in your conduct before you will be eligible for work outside this House.'

Sophia knew this wouldn't apply to her since she'd been a model prisoner on the ship, and was certain that Miss Hayter would have made recommendations for her favourable treatment. She expected to be assigned immediately, and the sooner she got out of here the better. Superintendent Pearson went on.

'The old system of assignment to free settlers has been changed by the Colonial Governor, and you will now be treated as probationers for the next six months. During that time your conduct here will be observed, and only if it is satisfactory will you be eligible for hiring out to settlers.'

Sophia was dumbstruck. Another six months! All the promises that Kezia Hayter had made were for nothing. She was still in Hobart, and no doubt having a grand time with Captain Ferguson. Sophia stopped caring what Pearson said after that.

The assignment system had been under review for several years due to the different treatment handed out to prisoners by their masters. Some were kind and even benevolent, while others were cruel and exploited the cheap labour. That was considered to be unfair, and a new system of probation with three divisions of restraint was proposed in 1837. The first stage was to consist of 'severe restraint' with moral and religious training. The second stage would be a period of reformatory training. After that convicts could gain 'marks' by good conduct which could be used to shorten their period of detention. Conversely, bad behaviour would mean a loss of marks and longer detention. The final stage was intended to teach social responsibility. Convicts would then gain a Ticket of Leave and work for whoever they pleased subject to their attending monthly musters.

The new system was being phased in as Sophia arrived in 1841, but was not yet operating as intended. The Governor Sir John Franklin had unwisely allowed it to be known in London that he had reservations about the probation system, and unbeknown to him, the renewal of his appointment, due in 1842 had already been cancelled. His doubts though were as much about the inability of the colony to afford the construction of new probation stations to house the convicts, as for the treatment of the convicts themselves.

The next six months dragged by with Sophia doing her best to avoid trouble and gain the necessary marks that would enable her to get out of this awful place. There were several disturbances as the toughs in the Mob bullied others into joining, or for not joining their gang. The official policy was to keep new arrivals separated from the old hands, so that bad habits could not be passed on, but due to overcrowding this didn't work in practice. Lesbianism wasn't widespread but did occur, and since it was a criminal offence, when detected harsh punishment ensued. Sophia kept away from those practices but befriended several women around her own age. There were 212 women, and 40 children under two years old in the Factory, and Sophia often found herself helping the mothers look after their babies. Several pregnant women gave birth, the deliveries attended by the prison doctor Dr Maddox and his nurse. Sophia helped them whenever she could and learned the basics of midwifery from them. After children were weaned they were usually sent to an orphanage where it was expected they would be raised in a more law abiding and moralistic manner than by their mothers in gaol.

Since the probation system was not fully in effect, and overcrowding was becoming a serious problem in the factory, it was decided to allow those women with the most marks to be hired out early. A despatch to London described the conditions:

'(the Factory)... is extremely discreditable and crowded to such an extent, as not only to have rendered it necessary to abandon all attempts at employing the greater portion of the prisoners, but as defying all classification, and subjecting every class of offenders to the contamination of mutual bad example, in rooms so crowded that it has occurred that the whole of the prisoners have been unable to lie down at one time, and a portion have been kept standing while others rested.

In this factory are confined convicts who are unable to obtain assignments, together with those who have been returned for the purposes of punishment, and those who, being with child from illicit connections are thrown back on the hands of the Government; and who after their delivery, and being attended to at public expense, again go forth, leaving their children a burthen on the public through the whole period of infancy and childhood, to return again, in many cases under similar circumstances.'

Sophia hadn't been there long enough to gain marks, so wasn't included in the first group of probationers released.

In September an illness swept through the Factory and most children fell sick, several of them dying. Inquests were held into all deaths, and Sophia was called as a witness to one of them. The Coroner convened his court the same day that the death occurred, and questioned Sophia.

'Miss Grantham I understand you knew the mother and child well.'

'Yes your Worship.' Sophia answered as she had been coached to do.

'Tell the court what you know of this death.'

'The child was well and happy until last Saturday when he developed a cough. On Sunday we called Doctor Maddox to attend to him, but he got worse and on Monday I thought he would die. Doctor Maddox came again, but the baby kept getting worse until he died this morning. His mother did everything she could to look after him, but it's very cold here, and we don't have enough warm clothing.'

'Yes, thank you Miss Grantham, but the issue of clothing is beyond the jurisdiction of this court.'

He then called the nurse and several other women who had helped the mother. All asserted that she did everything she could to look after the baby. Then came Doctor Maddox, who agreed that the mother had looked after the child, and noted that many other children were also affected. The doctor attributed the death to the 'inflammation of the lungs caused by the cold southerly winds.' The Coroner was satisfied that everything had been done for the child and he pronounced his verdict. The child died 'By the Visitation of God'.

Sophia continued helping the mothers and playing with the children whenever she wasn't employed sewing, and the time slowly passed. Finally the day came when the first phase of the probation period was nearly up, and about 30 women were assembled in front of the Superintendent who addressed them again. Sophia had heard all about the contract system from women whose masters had found them unsuitable for some reason, and arranged to have them charged so that their contract would be cancelled and a new servant hired. The women who were lucky enough to have a good master never returned to the Factory to tell their story, so Sophia's impression was somewhat one sided.

The Superintendent began. 'Your conduct has been assessed as good, so you are all eligible to be allowed out to work. You will go to a Hiring Depot where settlers may inspect you and choose to employ you or not. You will be contracted to your master for one year, and the usual rate of pay for domestic servants is seven pounds per year. If you misbehave, they cannot punish you, but must return you here with a report of your misdeeds and a recommendation for punishment. That can only be confirmed by myself. Serious offences will go before a Magistrate, and your sentence may be reviewed and lengthened.'

Sophia thought seven pounds per year was a paltry amount, after she'd been paid nearly 15 pounds at the hat shop. But perhaps she could live comfortably. She had been in custody now for more than 12 months with six years yet to serve, and she had not yet reached her 21st birthday. The prospect of a longer sentence was not attractive, and she hoped to do whatever was necessary to keep out of trouble.

Hiring Depots were being built all over Van Diemen's Land but the convicts were arriving too quickly. As a short term measure suitable houses were leased where convicts stayed until contracted out. At these Depots the convicts were lined up for inspection, and they in turn were able to see who might hire them. When her group's turn came to be displayed, Sophia saw a mixed bunch of sheep farmers, local businessmen and a short Reverend gentleman with a florid complexion. The selection process started and the best looking women were snapped up by the pastoralists. Sophia hoped that she would find a master who would appreciate her cooking and sewing skills as displayed on a chalkboard next to her convict number. She had the same number on a slate hung around her neck, so the selectors could match the skills with the woman. As selections were made and the numbers dwindled, Sophia had the growing apprehension that she would be left with the clergyman. And so she was.

# Chapter 13

# Assignment

Reverend Thomson had found his way to Launceston not so much by design, but rather by being encouraged to leave each other town that he had served, until the Colonies, and then just Launceston was all that was left. He had developed a taste for whiskey early on in his pastoral career in England, and it had affected his performance over the years. As his flocks became aware that his sermons were degenerating into incoherent babble, he was forced to move on. The Bishop had strongly suggested that the poor souls in the Colonies might benefit from his attendance there, and so he went. He had made a real effort to curb his drinking when he arrived in the Colonies, but the boredom and isolation had got the better of him. Whiskey was difficult to find, and very expensive when he did find it, so he had developed a taste for the rum that was in plentiful supply. Now, after wandering from Sydney to Hobart in search of a permanent church, he had landed in Launceston. There was little competition on the pastoral front here, so the parishioners tolerated his drinking, at least until someone sober arrived. He had never married, and had no desire for women, but someone to cook and clean for him would allow him more time for his own interests.

Sophia was issued with her probationary pass, packed her few belongings and followed the Reverend to his house next to the church in the middle of town. She was cursing her bad luck at being selected by a Minister. It probably meant she would have to go to church regularly, and she had stopped believing in a merciful God months ago. The Minister's house and the church itself had been built by the parishioners in the early days of settlement and were provided to him rent free. The house was a small timber construction with a whitewashed fence, and a garden that was tended only once a week by parishioners. There were two steps up to the front door that opened into a narrow hallway with a bedroom on one side and a sitting room on the other. The passage led straight through to the back door with a step down onto a short path to the separate kitchen that was joined to the house only by the roof. Sophia stood at the door to the kitchen and looked inside. To her right was a wood stove, and a bath was partly hidden by a half wall behind the stove. A small table and chair and a cupboard in front of her, and a hessian bag stuffed with straw was lying on the floor to her left. A meat safe hung outside the door, and there was a wood pile half hidden by long grass beside the kitchen. The smell of rum had been strong as she entered the house, and there was a stack of empty bottles next to the wood heap. Sophia started to get a picture of the Reverend's living habits.

'Now my dear,' he said, 'you can set yourself up in the kitchen. There is a mattress on the floor, but we may be able to find you a bed one day. I would like breakfast at 8 am, dinner at midday and supper at 5pm every day except Sunday when I usually eat dinner and supper with some of my parishioners. I will pay you for your services of course, but as a Minister my own salary is small, so 10 shillings a month is all I can afford.'

Sophia was already unhappy with living in the kitchen, and now to find that she would be paid less than the usual rate raised her hackles, but she held her tongue.

Her duties enabled her to walk to the shops for food, and generally be free to do whatever she liked, provided of course that the master's meals were always on time, and the house was kept clean. She could not leave the Launceston town limits without her master, and even then needed a Magistrate's written permission to stay away overnight. Reverend Thomson settled into his new life of leisure quickly, and found time to drink even more rum. Most nights he was well under the weather by the time he retired. During the day he visited people, and now that he had a servant, he started inviting them back for tea. Sophia's work increased somewhat, but still she did not complain. It was better than being in the Factory she thought.

By December Sophia was feeling unhappy with her position, as the Reverend was getting drunk more often and had become more demanding of her time. She was still sleeping on the floor, and she was summoned at all hours to provide food. He'd even taken to having her fill his glass from the rum bottle as it sat on he table in front of him. On Thursday the 16th while on a regular shopping trip she stopped to talk to another woman who was in service with the town's doctor. They compared experiences with their masters and Sophia realized she was not in the best situation. She was deep in conversation when the town bell sounded for midday. She excused herself and rushed home to make his dinner, hoping he would be busy and not notice her arriving. But, by the time she arrived he was waiting at the door. She stepped inside.

'Where have you been girl? You know my dinner is to be ready at midday.' He scowled at her, his usually red face getting even redder.

'I'm sorry sir. I was delayed at the store. I'll bring your dinner to you now.' She curtsied briefly and turned to go to the kitchen.

'Just a minute girl, I haven't finished with you.' He was only an inch taller than Sophia, but puffed himself up as much as possible. 'If you are late with my dinner again, it will be back to the Factory for you.'

Sophia was about to explain, but he seemed in no mood to listen to excuses, so she thought better of it. As she went to the kitchen to make his dinner, she realized that this particular employment wasn't going to last long.

Reverend Thomson went to see the Superintendent to report Sophia's absence without leave, and it was decided that as a first offence, it would simply be noted on her conduct sheet and she would be given another chance. However, now that his threatening her with disciplinary action had set a precedent, Reverend Thomson became more and more critical of Sophia's work. During his frequent drinking bouts he made her listen to his ramblings about the sins of convict women, most of which were exaggerated second-hand stories that Sophia knew were not true of the majority of convicts. Then two weeks after the first incident, on Wednesday the 29th, after supper as he harangued her yet again, she snapped.

'You old drunk, you don't know what you're talking about. You are supposed to be helping us to get back to a normal life not spreading untrue stories about people you haven't met and know nothing about.'

Reverend Thomson was not so far under the weather that he couldn't recognize insubordination. His face reddening with indignation, he spluttered. 'You sinful girl, I am doing God's work among people least deserving of his mercy. An impossible job I can tell you. Most of you will never repent your sins, and I doubt that you are worthy of my time. In fact you in particular are not deserving of the freedom and comfort I've given you, and I intend to speak to Superintendent Pearson tomorrow about returning you to the Factory.'

Sophia was expecting this and thought nothing more would be lost by telling him what she thought.

'I would much rather spend my time with friends there than with a miserable old rum soaked skinflint like you.' Sophia still considered she was underpaid, especially with the extra work she had to do, and it certainly wasn't sufficient compensation for having to listen to this nonsense every day. She didn't care about abusing this man, but was careful not to criticise God directly just in case there was one.

'You ungrateful girl! You deserve punishment for your sins. Pack your things in the morning, and we're going to see Mr. Pearson.'

So the next day Sophia was standing before the Superintendent as Reverend Thomson, now completely sober, related his account of their conversation, and the generally poor performance and attitude of this prisoner. He recommended that she be returned to the Factory forthwith and undergo additional punishment. The Superintendent noted her previous absence, agreeing that insubordination toward a clergyman required a significant punishment. He cancelled her probationary pass and awarded her 10 days solitary confinement in one of the Factory's twelve specially built cells.

Sophia spent her solitary time reviewing her life yet again, and her time in gaol in particular. She concluded that every time she tried to do the right thing and follow the rules she would find herself in trouble again. She had tried to stay out of trouble at Knutsford and was picked on by Bridget Sloan. That cost her three days in solitary. Then she was given punishment work at Millbank as soon as she arrived. Protesting about it cost her another three days, followed by four months on a hulk. Her conduct had been exemplary on the Rajah, with promises of better treatment because of it. Those promises came to nothing and she was assigned to a drunk who underpaid her, and goaded her into being insolent. Another ten days in solitary. Sophia decided that being good achieved nothing and since there wasn't much else the authorities could do to her, wondered whether she wouldn't be better off bribing the guards to let her out at night like the members of the Flash Mob.

# Chapter 14

# On the Town

Bribery was a way of life for many convicts and guards alike. Poverty was still the norm among the working classes, and although the economy was slowly growing after forty years of European settlement, it was still subject to boom and bust. In 1842 a severe recession was starting that would last nearly six years. Necessity created a market, and convict women could buy additional food and unofficial privileges either for money or for sexual favours and most, if not all, seem to have taken whatever advantage their situation allowed. Money could only be earned by being assigned to a free settler, so for the unassigned inmates, payment with sex was all that was available. When Sophia arrived only six months ago there were 212 women in the Factory, but now there were over 300, with more on the way. The place was so crowded that a few missing women during the night could easily be overlooked.

Sophia found a guard who looked presentable, and offered to do whatever it took to be let out of the Factory at night. Once a month was all she dared, at least until she found her way around. Their agreement lasted several years although it wasn't an exclusive one. He provided similar privileges to other women as well, but Sophia didn't care, as long as she could make a few shillings in the town after dark serving in one of the hotels where no one asked too many questions. Licensing laws were lax and allowed hotels to stay open after dark as the small population generally tolerated the isolated incidences of drunkenness that occurred now and then. At times hotels were raided in a half-hearted effort to round up prisoners but they were usually warned in advance, and left before they were caught. Sophia was a good worker, and the publican even opened an account at the Union Bank for her to deposit her payments, so she didn't need to find hiding places in the Factory that were at risk of discovery by the other convicts. Those women would gladly relieve her of any money they found. As she made money she was able to pay her friendly guard with cash rather than sex, and she preferred that arrangement.

Sophia's job was to serve drinks to the customers, but she also received generous offers of money to provide additional favours to visitors to the town, and the prospect of extra cash towards her ultimate goal of personal wealth was too good to pass up. The publican provided a room for these activities for Sophia and the other casual girls at a nominal fee. The customers were usually seamen bringing settlers and supplies or taking away sheep and wool that were the main exports from the town. They were a rowdy bunch but Sophia got used to handling their advances, restricting herself to those who looked reasonably clean, and trying to prevent pregnancy. Soon she was working every week as the fear of being caught diminished with practice. But, in June of 1842 she realized that she was pregnant, and that she was going to suffer consequences when the Superintendent found out. Her work at the hotel was suspended as her pregnancy started to show, and she stayed in the Factory to await the birth.

Her time in the Factory was mind numbing, doing menial work without the weekly break she formerly had at the hotel. Even sewing didn't have the appeal it once did, after putting heart and soul into the quilt on the Rajah and seeing the result come to nothing. She became friendly with several women and spent a lot of time exchanging stories about their experiences. It occurred to Sophia that though the women's stories differed in detail, they were in fact all similar to her own. Each had wanted to improve their lot in life and had decided that the only way to make it happen was to create opportunities for themselves. Jane Roberts was the only other woman still in the Launceston Factory who had worked with Sophia on the quilt. The others were either contracted to settlers or were kept in Hobart. Jane and Sophia kept away from the militant mob as much as possible, but were still sometimes caught up in their disturbances.

In October the women in Sophia's block decided that the quality and quantity of food given to them was unacceptable and a general hunger strike would be held. The women would barricade themselves in the block and refuse to work until the Superintendent agreed to improve their rations. Sophia and Jane agreed with the sentiment but thought that no good could come of this action. However, they could not refuse to be involved under pain of retribution. On the day selected, the women refused to admit the guards at morning roll call and the doors were barricaded from the inside. They stacked beds up against them, and then started a torrent of abuse towards the guards who notified the Superintendent, and he was quickly on the scene. Disturbances were fairly common and he expected that the usual promises and platitudes would calm the women and after an hour or two they would feel that their point was made and open the doors. Superintendent Pearson confidently approached the building flanked by several guards.

He called up to the women who were crowded around the first floor windows peering down from behind the bars. 'What is the reason for this outrageous behaviour? Who has incited you to take the law into your own hands?'

Eliza Miller was the ring leader and spokesman for the prisoners. 'The food in this place is no more than slop and we intend to stay here until you produce proper meals for us.'

Pearson recognised Miller from previous encounters.

'Ah yes, Eliza Miller. I should have known.' He took a deep breath and in a conciliatory tone said. 'The food has lately been of a lower standard than we would like, but it is due to the harsh winter that caused a poor harvest. I myself have to eat the same sort of food that you do. Now that summer is nearly here, the quality of crops will improve and we will all be better off.' That should do it he thought. Just let them cool off for an hour and it will be all over.

'Screw you Pearson.' shouted Miller. 'You get the best of everything and leave the dregs for us. We are staying here until you bring us decent food.'

Pearson was incensed at the personal insult. It was a new term recently introduced from America, and everyone knew what it was meant to convey. He decided to end this matter immediately. Turning to the guards he said. 'Break down that door and bring Eliza Miller to my office.'

The guards were not really equipped to break down a heavy door that was specifically designed to withstand considerable force. But they set to with a will, and were making some impression when Miller shouted again.

'If you break that door down we intend to set fire to the building.' To reinforce her point some of the others tore up a mattress and pushed it through the bars, setting fire to it as it went. The straw stuffing burned fiercely as it plummeted to the ground trailing a stream of embers.

Pearson realised that this could become a disaster very quickly and his comfortable position as Superintendent could be in jeopardy if anyone was seriously hurt. He called off the guards.

'We'll leave these women for the moment. Keep the building surrounded, and we'll see how long it takes for them to lose their resolve.' He estimated that after missing a few meals even the usual slop might look good to them.

The siege remained at a stalemate all day and through the night, with the women pouring abuse upon the watching guards. Sophia and Jane were hungry, but dared not suggest they give in. The women took turns to stay on watch through the night, and when dawn broke they were as determined as ever to go on with it. Pearson could see that there was no slackening in their determination, so he gave the order to implement the plan that he had considered overnight. At dinner time thirty male prisoners with guards and constables surrounded the building. Several carried axes and they made short work of the doors. As they stormed into the building they were met with a barrage of missiles from the women. Chairs and tables were broken and parts used as weapons. The hand to hand fighting was vigorous and as determined as the siege had been. Women and men suffered wounds, but the inevitable outcome was soon apparent to all. Eliza Miller and several of her cohorts were manacled and marched out. All resistance ceased, and it only remained to clean up the mess and repair the damage. Miller and her friends spent the next few days in solitary confinement until the Lady Franklin arrived and they were transferred to Hobart, then on to the hulk 'Anson' in the Derwent River.

Sophia and Jane had stayed out of the worst fighting as Sophia did her best to protect her unborn baby. They had managed a couple of swipes as the men grabbed at them, but it was lost in the general melee and not reported, so they escaped without injury or punishment. A few days later as life returned to normal, boredom got the better of a few women in the next block who thought they'd have some fun with the doctor. They decided that since he had seen them all naked at one time or another, it would be their turn. As he crossed the open space from one block to another he was set upon and pulled to the ground. His clothes were stripped from him down to his flannels and it was only the sudden appearance of the guards that saved his dignity. The women thought the 14 days solitary they received was worth the fun.

The Launceston Chronicle newspaper was a weekly publication that duly reported these events in its next edition. A copy eventually found its way into the factory and Sophia read it out for the benefit of those who couldn't read it themselves:

'Great disturbances have lately taken place amongst the factory women. On Thursday last, they revolted and took possession of the establishment. The Superintendent and his assistants were set at defiance, and the whole place was in such an uproar as was never heard since the confusion of tongues in the tower of Babel. The place was put under siege, but the insurgents were proff against the pangs of hunger, and after twenty four hours had elapsed, appeared as resolute and determined as ever. Several constables attempted to enter the room where they were confined, but were quickly compelled to retreat. At last it was found necessary to obtain about thirty men from the prisoner's barracks, who aided by an equal number of constables made a breach through the wall and came to close quarters with their Amazonian captives. The women fought like demons but they were finally overcome by superior strength and compelled to capitulate. Seven of the ringleaders were confined and ironed in gaol. These have since been dispatched to Hobart Town in the Lady Franklin. On Wednesday morning, another insurrection broke out, during which we understand Dr Maddox was slightly wounded. The whole concern is in a state of disorganization and the wonder is that it has not been oftener.'

When she finished reading, there were shouts of approval and all agreed that it was an accurate summation of the events, and a worthwhile demonstration against the system. The fact that they had won no concessions from the Superintendent, seven of their number were now languishing on a hulk and four more in solitary confinement did not diminish their delight. Routine was re-established, and there was general peace for a few months. Superintendent Pearson didn't come out of it well though. In December he was notified that he would be transferred. The new Superintendent would be Captain Gardiner, and he would take up his position in January.

Pregnancy wasn't uncommon among the convicts but it was still an offence, and was tried before a Magistrate. The hearing was normally held after the child was born to remove the onus of proof from the prosecutor that a pregnancy had occurred. And so it was with Sophia. She had a baby boy early in January 1843, and was brought before a Magistrate on the 28th. She was found guilty of course and her sentence was increased by the standard penalty of six months. That wasn't a surprise, nor was it the end of the world for Sophia, who by now had settled into her life as a convict, and would soon be able to get back to the hotel to increase her accumulating wealth further. She called the baby John William, and he was baptised on the 14th of February at the Launceston Church of England by Reverend Thomson. He insisted that she name the father, and so she invented the name of William Johnson for the record.

Lice in the bedding was always a problem in the Factory, and washing and airing was only a partial solution as some lice always survived in the straw mattresses to continue their breeding cycle. Prisoners found that they could be smoked out to great effect, and it took some weeks for reinfestation to become a problem again. One morning in February there was general agreement in Sophia's block that smoking of all beds would be a good idea so that all the lice could be eliminated at once, and someone lit some straw to begin the process. Sophia thought that smoke wouldn't be good for her month old son who already had a cough, and went outside to wait. Apparently, not all the women were as careful as they could have been and within a few minutes, shouts of 'fire' were heard throughout the block. Thick smoke billowed out of the windows and caused much consternation among the Factory staff and townspeople alike. The fire was quickly doused, leaving burnt bedding but only superficial damage to the building. Another inquiry was held, and those women deemed to have started the fire were awarded 14 days solitary confinement by the new Superintendent.

In August of 1843 a new Governor arrived in the Colony, and hopes were raised that there would be improvements for free settlers and convicts alike. Sir John Eardley-Wilmot was a 59 year old Barrister, enthusiastic to a fault, who had for many years been interested in the reform of criminal law. Unknown to the colonists though, he had recently been described in London by the Secretary of State for the Colonies Lord Stanley, as being a 'muddle-brained blockhead', and this assessment would prove accurate before the end of his tenure.

Sophia spent the year looking after John and doing everything necessary to gain the marks that would eventually lead to a Ticket of Leave. She found that having John restricted her movements, but she left him with Jane whenever she could, and continued to work. As long as she wasn't caught outside the Factory the marks would continue to accumulate. Her bank account grew steadily now, and by the end of the year amounted to about 20 pounds. That was the most money she'd ever had at one time since those few hours that Sunday at the Manor.

# Chapter 15

# Ticket of Leave

By 1844 economic depression was biting hard, and Governor Eardley-Wilmot decided that the population of Van Diemen's Land needed to be stabilised and expanded, and Government costs had to be reduced. All three aims could be advanced if convict women could be encouraged to marry and so leave the Factories to undertake productive work and raise families. It therefore became legal for a female convict under promise of marriage to a nominated man to leave the Factory and live with a responsible person until she married. This reduced costs to the Colonial Government which had recently been cut from the purse strings of London, and now had to fund its own police and Government works. It sounded a fine idea, but to the enterprising ladies of the Factory this was simply a free ticket to the outside. All they had to do was find a man, any man, to sign up, and they were out.

Sophia already had a selection of men at the hotel, and John Green, a former convict, now local water carrier became her chosen spouse to be, at least on paper. She then lived and worked in the hotel unconcerned about raids, though neither of them intended to get married. Sophia's personal wealth increased significantly during this time, as she took advantage of her live-in status at the hotel, and she was feeling good about her position in life. At this rate, by the time she was finally released and returned to England, she would be wealthy enough to live as she had always wanted. She had learned a lot about how to behave like a lady while working at the Manor, and even though she'd had no chance to practice since, felt that she could convince anyone that she had received her money from a family inheritance and was therefore socially acceptable.

Within a few months the Governor realised that there were far more convict women on the streets than there were weddings taking place, and ordered that those women who had not gone through with their marriages be rounded up and brought back to the Factory. In July Sophia was discovered at the hotel during a raid, and was actually in bed with John Green at the time. She was returned to the Factory and was charged with being 'found nude in bed with a man'. The sentence was two months hard labour in the workhouse laundry. It was during the time she was working off her punishment in the laundry that she noticed lesions on her body. She had seen other women with these same symptoms. She was distraught, but didn't bother going to Doctor Maddox, because everyone knew that there was no cure for syphilis, and to add to her woes, she was pregnant again.

Sophia's plans were thrown into turmoil yet again. Having two children without a husband would be an impediment to her acceptance in society, and her medical problems just added to her difficulties. In fact Sophia's medical prognosis was grim. The disease was ultimately fatal, but the time was variable. Some people lasted 10 years, others 20. There was no way of knowing, but the certainty that she would die earlier than she should, served to change Sophia over night. She became somewhat withdrawn and even the money in the bank, around 50 pounds, which had been a source of great satisfaction, now meant less to her. With three years of her sentence still to serve, an 18 month old baby and another one on the way, and a death sentence hanging over her, she started rethinking what she would to do when she was released. Her desire for wealth had diminished with the realisation that she may not be around to enjoy it for long, and returning to England didn't seem as attractive now. She decided that her best course was to get a Ticket of Leave before anyone found out she was pregnant, and find a husband.

As her two months hard labour was completed she suffered a bout of illness that included a rash on her hands, and she felt sick for two weeks, as the secondary stage of her infection commenced, but it cleared up and she went back to her old habits. On returning to the hotel she was greeted warmly by the regular customers and soon ran into John Green again. He of course had suffered no penalty for being found in bed with a woman. Sophia decided that he would have to do.

'John, I'm pregnant and you are the father. Once I'm found out, if I have no husband I'll be sentenced to more time in gaol, and I don't think I could stand that. I hope you will do the honourable thing and marry me to provide a home for us all.'

Marriage wasn't high on John Green's list of things to do, but he did feel responsible. He hesitated. He had also found that he had syphilis just after the raid in July, but was hesitant to mention it in case Sophia wasn't infected.

'Sophia there is something you should know before we make any plans.'

Sophia knew what he was going to say, but waited anyway.

'I found just after you were arrested that I have the pox.' He waited for a reaction, but there was none. Then the truth dawned on him. She knew, which meant she was infected too. They both had a death sentence.

'I'm sorry Sophia; of course I'll marry you. If you can get a Ticket of Leave we could move to Hobart where no one knows us. It could be twenty years before anything happens, and by then there could be a cure.'

Sophia was relieved. At least she would have a home, and a cure must surely be found for such a widespread disease sometime in the next few years.

'Very well John, I'm prepared to try it.'

Green applied for the marriage and in January of 1845 she was out, with a Ticket of Leave and permission to live and work in Hobart, under the standard condition that she attend the Muster each month. John made the necessary arrangements, and they travelled by coach to Hobart. Sophia was nearly five months pregnant, and young John was two years old, but she found work at a hotel and rented a room there with the publican appointed as the responsible person until they could be married. John Green started work as a water carrier again.

Sophia's second stage symptoms had disappeared months ago, and conventional wisdom said that she was no longer contagious, nevertheless she didn't think it wise to engage in any further promiscuous conduct. The hotel was a favourite for visiting seamen, being close by the docks, and it was always full of rowdy men, but Sophia rejected all their advances without ever letting anyone know why. She intended to get married as soon as possible, and certainly before the baby was born, but if she thought that her life was at last under control, she was mistaken.

She was working at the hotel on the day that a man came in and ordered a nobbler of rum. His hand was shaking and he looked pale. Sophia asked him what was wrong.

'I have just come from the scene of a terrible accident down at the docks.' he said, downing his rum in one gulp. 'A poor man was unloading water barrels from his cart onto a ship when a full barrel fell on him and killed him instantly. It was an awful sight.'

This hit Sophia like a bolt from the blue. John was delivering water to the docks that day. Surely it could not be him. But she knew deep down that it must be.

With her marriage cancelled she had to return to custody and was sent to the Hiring Depot in Hobart until she could be contracted out. She spent many hours wondering what would become of herself and her children, and she felt more alone now than she ever had. All hope of a marriage and a reasonably normal life seemed to have gone and she sank into a depression that seemed to have no way out. Working helped, and her son needed some attention that kept her mind off her long term prospects, but late at night alone in bed the full realisation of her plight would keep her awake.

She gave birth to a daughter on the 17th of April 1845 and called her Jane Elizabeth after her friend in Launceston. Young Jane showed no outward sign that her mother's illness had affected her in any way. Sophia wasn't charged over this pregnancy, since the Government's priority was to get people out of the overcrowded gaols rather than sentencing them to more time inside. However, children were considered to be at risk of moral corruption if they grew up in the Factory, and so were removed to an orphanage as soon as possible, and always before three years of age. John was now 2½ years old, and had been allowed to stay with his mother while she was supporting herself, but now that they were back in custody, and being kept at Government expense, it was only a matter of time before he was taken away.

While she was waiting for someone to hire her, she was sent out on a short term contract as a servant to Mr. Burn in Hobart to fill in for his own servant who was ill, and then to a Mr. Wright for the same reason. Neither of these developed into a permanent contract since servants were completely supported by their masters, and a servant with two children would cost more than anyone was willing to pay. Nothing could save young John from the orphanage.

# Chapter 16

# John Tregilgus

In September of 1838 John Tregilgus was an adventurous 14 year-old lad who wanted to see the world. He was born at St. Merryn, a tiny town near Padstow in Cornwall. Padstow had been a busy little port for centuries, and John had grown up with seafaring ambitions. In medieval times Padstow had been granted the 'Right of Sanctuary' by the King, and that granted immunity from arrest to criminals of all descriptions. That status lasted for hundreds of years, and assisted the growth of such activities as smuggling. In the 16th Century, fishing became the main industry and many generations back John's ancestors had been fishermen. That was followed in the 17th Century by the growth of mining, and copper and tin were shipped through Padstow.

John's ancestors had lived around here for at least 300 years, but now that ships routinely sailed around the world with trade goods, and Britain ruled the waves, the attraction of a life at sea was too much for John to resist. He left his home and travelled 200 miles east to Portsmouth, hoping to join the Royal Navy. Portsmouth was a large and busy port, with many Navy ships at anchor in the sheltered harbour, as well as other Government contracted ships taking on supplies before setting sail for the colonies, often carrying convicts.

He had been told he was too young to join the Navy yet, but that wasn't going to stop him trying. So, when he saw the warship 'HMS Favorite' tied up at the docks being readied for a world voyage under the command of Commander Walter Croker, and looking for recruits, he immediately applied. He was too young for normal entry, but Boy sailors were taken on at around 15 years of age, with the intention of training them to become seamen at age 18.

The minimum age for Boys was flexible, and depended upon how urgently the Captain needed to fill his crew and get under weigh. John would be 15 years old in a few weeks, so he was accepted as a Boy, Second Class. His career path would be, promotion to Boy First Class after 12 months, and to Ordinary seaman when he turned 18 in December of 1841. From there he would be signed on for five years. John was put to work with Edward Bonner, a First Class Boy who had been in the Navy for nearly two years.

John had no particular plan in mind other than to see the world, but Bonner ultimately wanted to get to Australia where his older brother Thomas was a clerk working for solicitor William Henty in Launceston. Henty was one of the well-known Henty brothers, the rest of whom were now establishing a sheep run at Portland on the south coast of the Australian mainland.

Commander Croker had been in the Navy for 40 years, and had distinguished himself from the start. As a Midshipman he had almost singlehandedly captured a pirate ship, and later as a Lieutenant, had saved his ship from disaster by climbing the rigging during a storm to cut away a broken mast. These heroic incidents had been widely reported in newspapers. He had served under and with Officers who were now Admirals, so he was well known within the Navy, and to the general public. Despite this fame, his promotions had been slow and this ship was his first as a Commander.

'HMS Favorite' had been launched ten years earlier and was the sixth Royal Navy ship with that name. She was a big 430 ton timber-hulled three-masted 'sloop-of-war' armed with 18 guns and several smaller carronades mounted fore and aft, along with 6 and 12 pound cannon that could be dismounted and carried ashore. The 'sloop-of-war' classification was given to warships armed with less than 20 heavy cannon, and did not refer to the ship's rigging. She looked in other respects, just like any other square-rigged warship, and in addition to the crew, she carried a detachment of Royal Marines.

Recruiting went on for three weeks, and when a full complement of crew was on board, several short training trips were carried out in the English Channel before they topped up their provisions and water and headed out to help maintain the Royal Navy's dominance of the high seas.

A year later the 'Favorite' had visited most of the major ports and British Colonies around the world, and young John had become competent at handling boats, and had experienced many foreign cultures. He had also been subjected to the various initiation ceremonies practiced by seamen upon new boys, and became as tough as he needed to be to cope with that harsh treatment.

The 'Favorite' called at Sydney in February of 1840 on its way to Samoa where it was to retrieve any remains of two Missionaries who had been killed and eaten by the natives in 1839. Upon arriving at Erumanga Commander Croker and his crew could locate only the skulls of the men, the rest of the bones having been used to make fish-hooks. A burial ceremony was carried out, and the 'Favorite' sailed on to Tonga. In June when the 'Favorite' dropped anchor off the island of Tongatapu young John was looking forward to a pleasant time ashore on the 'Friendly Isles'.

The Tongan group had been named the 'Friendly Isles' by Captain Cook seventy years earlier, but that was not an accurate perception. There had been on-going animosity between Tongan and Fijian tribes for years, and now Christian Missionaries had further complicated things. They had been successful in converting some tribes, but not others, so now there was additional animosity. It hadn't been a problem for visiting ships since the natives had captured a pirate ship and killed most of the crew years earlier. But the underlying trouble had simmered until a few months before the 'Favorite' arrived, when it broke out into inter-tribal war between Christians and heathens.

Soon after the 'Favorite' dropped anchor, a messenger from the Missionaries reported that a heathen tribe had threatened them, and had built a fort under the direction of some former pirates. They were armed with muskets and small cannon from the pirate ship. The Missionaries asked Commander Croker to mediate to bring the matter to an end. The situation required some delicate negotiation and the lack of that skill may be one of the reasons why Commander Croker's promotions had been slow throughout his career.

Croker agreed to resolve the standoff, and decided that a display of force would illustrate his superior negotiating position. He asked for volunteers to accompany him ashore. It appeared to be an easy mission so nearly everyone including John and Edward stepped forward. They dismounted the twelve pounder and two six pounders and loaded them into the boats. Ninety heavily armed men rowed ashore and marched inland to the heathen fort.

As they arrived on a small hill overlooking the fort 150 yards away, the Christian Tongan King George and 300 of his native warriors arrived to assist. It was an impressive display of force, and John and Edward listened as the sailors around them talked among themselves, expecting that the natives in the fort would soon give in. The fort looked flimsy, being a stockade of saplings ten feet high tied together and encircling a collection of native huts. There were many gaps between the trunks plugged with palm fronds, and the whole structure looked as though it could be pushed over by a few determined men.

Croker left his men, and with sword drawn, walked to the gate to speak to the rebel leader. His call was answered by a Welshman who identified himself as 'Jemmy the Devil'. Croker demanded that they surrender or he would level the fort. Jemmy asked for half an hour to consult with his native chiefs.

Croker waited at the gate, but after half an hour when no answer had come, he banged on the gate with hilt of his sword, and then thrust the blade through a gap in the timbers. When he withdrew it, it was dripping blood. Croker decided it was time to be decisive, and called his men forward to intimidate the defenders. The natives were unimpressed with Croker's tough stance and instead of being intimidated, as soon as the advancing men were within range, the defenders in the fort opened fire with a volley of muskets.

Croker was immediately hit in the leg, but urged his men on. King George and his men departed as soon as the shooting started, so the volleys of fire from the fort were concentrated on the sailors. Croker staggered away, but was again hit, this time in the chest. With his dying breath he again urged his men on, but by then several were dead, and many wounded. Second Lieutenant Dolop ran forward under fire to retrieve Croker's body, and the sailors withdrew carrying all their dead but leaving their cannon behind. The cannon were immediately picked up and added to the fort's defences.

John was aghast as he assisted wounded men back to the boats. He'd never seen anything like this. There were bleeding men all around him, and the apparently immortal Commander Croker was dead. Now he started having second thoughts about a Naval career. He and Edward Bonner discussed the incident, and both decided that if they could get to Tasmania, they would leave the Navy.

Commander Croker and the others were buried on the island, and then Lieutenant Dunlop, although badly wounded himself, took command and the 'Favorite' set sail for New Zealand to get medical assistance. Within two months, Croker's death was reported in English speaking newspapers around the world, along with his previous successful exploits. The whole incident became one of those famous defeats that the British love to celebrate. Croker was declared even more of a hero, and his death was described as murder. Everyone in the English speaking world knew of the incident.

Once the immediate medical problems were sorted out and an official report of the action was sent to London, the 'Favorite', still under the command of Dunlop, set sail for Sydney, arriving in time for Christmas of 1840. Then she went on to Hobart, arriving on the 9th of February 1841.

During their first shore leave, John and Edward travelled to Launceston to see Edward's brother Tom. There was plenty of work available on coastal boats, so both decided to apply for discharge from the Royal Navy.

Back in Hobart, they both applied to Lieutenant Commander Dunlop, but he told them that they were valuable members of the crew and both applications were refused. Bonner immediately asked William Henty for assistance, and a letter was sent to Governor Franklin asking him to intervene. The Governor replied that he could not interfere in Navy matters, and so Edward Bonner was still on board when the 'Favorite' set sail for New Zealand again.

Seventeen year old John Tregilgus had no one to represent him, but he wasn't staying on that ship with or without permission. He failed to board when the 'Favorite' was due to leave and remained in Tasmania. He was effectively a deserter, though with less than a year to serve as a Boy, no one would actively look for him, and as long as he didn't come to official notice for some other reason he would be safe. He soon found work on the waterfront, and settled into a new life in Van Diemen's Land.

In December of 1842 he was working on the docks in Hobart with a man named Bill King. They were unloading timber palings from a boat and stacking them on the wharf. With each armload they were accompanied by King's little dog that trotted back and forth with them. Constable Gentle was on patrol, and decided that the dog was not under effective control, so he seized it to take it to the Pound. King immediately said the dog was his and demanded the Constable put it down. Tregilgus joined in and as they were remonstrating with the policeman two more Constables arrived and tried to grab both men. A fight ensued, during which Tregilgus picked up a paling and whacked one of the Constables. The dog was forgotten as both men were arrested. John was charged under the name of Tregildas.

When they appeared in the Police Court, Tregilgus claimed he was set upon by two 'huge hulking fellows' who twisted his foot painfully. He denied assaulting the Constable with the paling, but both men were convicted. King was fined the standard 2 pounds, and Tregilgus 3 pounds. The Magistrate Mr. Price then asked Tregilgus where he was from. Not wanting to draw attention to his departure from the Royal Navy, he said,

'I'm from Sydney your Worship. I came by the 'Waterlily.''

'I don't believe that,' said the Magistrate, 'I've been told you are from Cornwall and have been a prisoner.'

Tregilgus strenuously denied that, but the Magistrate ordered a check of the records at the Court. Nothing was found after a thorough search, but Mr. Price wasn't satisfied. Turning to the Constable he said,

'Take this man to the Police Barracks and check the records there. He may be an absconder.'

Tregilgus was marched to the Barracks, and an exhaustive check was done, but no record was found of John Tregildas being wanted by the law or ever being a prisoner. He was let go, and by the time he arrived back at the docks to start work again, the story of his assault on the police was already being talked about. It was also reported in the Hobart Colonial Times on Tuesday the 6th of December 1842. So now he was notorious for beating up the police with a length of wood. Someone called him 'Handspike Jack' and the name stuck, along with a reputation for preferring a fight rather than a feed.

On Tuesday the 18th of March 1845 'Handspike Jack' had another run-in with police and was giving Constable Walker a hiding when he was over-powered and arrested. This time he gave his name as Tregilyns. No prior convictions were found under that name, so he received a heavy fine of 5 pounds and was released. He was lucky to get off so lightly. A prisoner at the previous day's Court sitting was sentenced to three months on the road gangs for assaulting the same Constable.

By then Tregilgus was working as a deck hand on the coastal schooner 'Mary', delivering stores to convict depots around the coast of Tasmania. That job opened up a whole new world of possibilities for John, and he formed a plan to gain his Master's Ticket, buy a boat and become a significant businessman in the shipping industry.

# Chapter 17

# The Schooner

Tregilgus gained his Masters licence in 1845 and was appointed master of the 'Mary', still running the government contract. He was only 21, but had a tough reputation, and was a regular drinker at Sophia's hotel when in Hobart. Everyone on the waterfront now knew him as 'Handspike Jack', although within earshot it was just 'Jack', and not many knew his surname. He was short, as were most Cornishmen, but strongly built, and with a full beard that made him appear older than his years.

Sophia talked to him in the hotel and knew his reputation, but she wasn't intimidated by that, and always preferred to use his proper name. During the weeks before John Green died she had several conversations with Tregilgus and had found out a little more about him. He was slightly younger than herself, and they had become friendly. When John Green died, he had tried to console her, and when she had to go back to the Hiring Depot he could see she was distraught, and wished he could help.

It occurred to him that a cook would be a welcome asset to the crew on his boat. The thought of properly prepared meals rather than the stews and soups made by his deck hands was attractive. However Sophia had two small children. Young John was walking and very active, and would be a hindrance on the boat. Jane would be tolerable for a year or so, and by then Sophia should be able to make her own plans again. So John went to the Hiring Depot to see what could be done about getting Sophia out to work on his boat under the probation system, but without young John.

He spoke to the Matron in charge about applying for Sophia to work for him. 'Matron, I can provide work for Miss Grantham, but there is no room for the boy on my boat. Can he stay here?'

The Matron shook her head. 'No we only have children with their mothers here, and even then the children are sent to the orphanage if the mother isn't contracted out within a reasonable time. In fact we have already listed her son to be taken as soon as a vacancy occurs.'

John was surprised. 'Then she will be losing him anyway if she stays here?'

'Yes, I expect him to be gone in a week or two. Her new baby will be enough for her to cope with in here.'

John thought for a moment. 'Will the orphanage still take him if his mother is working?'

'You can apply to have him stay there but you must pay the cost.'

John could see that this was the best solution for all concerned. He asked to speak to Sophia and she was brought to him.

He was appalled at her appearance. She was looking tired and listless, and being back in gaol after expecting to be married and living normally had badly affected her. John explained his plan, and she brightened immediately. She knew her son was to be taken away, so there was nothing to lose by going with this man and leaving young John at the orphanage where she supposed he would be properly looked after. But one other problem could arise. There was an unwritten law that women would only be tolerated on working boats if they provided sexual services to the skipper while they were at sea, and Sophia was aware of this convention. She expected that John would put that to her at some stage and she would have to own up to her condition. She decided that she should clear the air from the beginning.

'John, if you expect me to be more than a cook on this boat, you'd better say so now, because it isn't going to happen.'

He was taken aback at this forthrightness. 'I wasn't going to suggest any such thing.' he lied. 'I know it often happens, but I'm doing this as a friend so you can make plans for your future.'

His apparent sincerity made her feel sorry that she had made the suggestion.

'All right then.' she said, maintaining her outward determination. 'Let's get this contract going.'

They filled in the various application forms, Sophia was issued with a probationary pass, and on the 30th of July 1845, the boy was taken into Queens Orphanage. Jane would be handful enough on the boat until she started to walk, then something would have to be done with her as well.

She was introduced to the two deck hands, and after being shown around the boat Sophia brewed up some tea, and she and John sat in the tiny galley discussing their immediate future.

'This contract has nearly a year to run, and I hope to make enough out of it to buy my own boat, then next year I'll start making real money if I can get this contract again.' said John enthusiastically.

'I didn't realise Government contracts were so generous.' Sophia said.

'Well, they aren't really.' replied John, 'I make some extra money occasionally from selling off spoiled items that the Depot Superintendents can't use.'

Sophia frowned. 'What do you mean spoiled?' she asked.

He grinned. 'I'm from a seafaring family from Cornwall, and I learned a lot about making money from shipping when I was still a boy.'

'You mean smuggling?' she asked.

'No no. Smuggling here is too dangerous, but we often get some 'spoilage' of cargo in rough weather, and occasional mistakes in counting can cause some items to be left over. I just sell them later and split the proceeds with the deck hands. We've done it for two years now, and no one has noticed.'

Sophia's finely tuned intuition for a money making scheme was revived after its long period of hibernation. Perhaps there was even more profit to be made here than working in the hotel.

The Ordnance Department was responsible for public works and had established depots at strategic places along the east coast where building supplies, food and clothing could be delivered by sea to the convict gangs working on roads and bridges in the area. They contracted the deliveries on a yearly basis to boat owners who were paid a fixed amount to provide the service. The Sophia's routine runs to the depots along the east coast from Port Esperance in the south to Falmouth in the north, went on about every two weeks, so they were back in Hobart every 10 days or so, unless bad weather slowed them down. Just as John said, a case of brandy or a bag of flour, or a few lengths of timber going missing was written off as spoilage, and was later sold off to regular buyers in the hotel and building industries. Many hoteliers were ex-seamen, and had a good idea where this contraband came from, but it was cheap so they took the risk.

Within just a few weeks Sophia could see that this could be a profitable operation and the beginnings of an idea took shape. One night when they were anchored off Darlington in the lee of Maria Island waiting to sail back to Hobart at first light, she put her proposition to him.

'John, how would you like a partner in this shipping contract?' He looked surprised. 'What do you mean?' He was puzzled by this question from a woman who he had always thought of as poor.

She expected his reaction, since she had never mentioned her previous activities to him. 'I have some money put aside. I think I could pay most of the price of a boat, and we could be partners in this shipping business.'

He thought for a moment. Having the boat paid for would certainly help his financial position, but having this woman as a partner? They got along well enough, even without sex, but this would have to be a long term relationship and he wasn't sure he wanted that.

She read his thoughts. 'Look I'll put this to you so there's no misunderstanding. I'll pay as much as I can for the boat and organise buyers for the cargo. I know plenty of men at the hotel who would be eager to buy cheap goods. You came from Cornwall didn't you? You probably come from a long line of smugglers who would jump at this chance.' She saw his uncertainty. 'Oh, there's one more condition. I want a Ticket of Leave, so you'll have to marry me, and since I have the pox, you probably won't be wanting to sleep with me will you?'

John was speechless. He hadn't asked where she got the money, but it was now clear. 'Sophia, I don't know what to say.' he paused, groping for words. He knew the prognosis as everyone did. 'How long has the doctor said this will last?'

'I haven't seen a doctor about it. We all know that they can't cure it, and can't tell how long it will take to flare again. Ten years, perhaps twenty if I'm lucky. The best I can hope for is that they find a cure sometime before it's too late for me.'

John was still having trouble coming to terms with this news.

'What about Jane? Is she affected?'

'No she seems to be all right. I've been told that children can be unaffected depending on the stage of the disease during conception. I suppose it's the only good part of this whole story.'

John was quiet for a moment, and to save any further difficulty that night, Sophia said,

'I think we should leave this for now and talk about it again another day.'

John agreed and they went to their separate beds, each alone with their thoughts.

By morning John had decided that a partnership would be worth the trouble that he would eventually have to deal with. He could see that the quickest way to pay for a boat was to use her money, and everything was profit from then on. She expected a long term commitment as compensation for financing the deal and that wasn't something he had planned on, but she would probably die in 10 years or so, and by then he would be well set up in the shipping industry. Nothing was said about it through the day, and Sophia wondered how long their relationship would last now that he knew about her past. Later that night John brought up the subject again as they sat in the galley. He reached across the table and placed his hand over hers.

'Sophia, I like the prospect of a partnership, and I'll agree to marry you, but I have two conditions of my own. First I'd like you to see a doctor and find out exactly what the long term prospects are, and whether we can have any more children. Second, if it's too dangerous for us to have any more, could we change Jane's name to Ruth after my mother's sister. She was good to me when I was growing up, and I always said I would name my daughter after her.

She had expected him to want to end their relationship as soon as possible.

'I only named her after my friend in Launceston, so I'm happy to change it to Ruth.' Tears welled up, and she gripped his hand tightly. 'Thank you John.' She was happy, relieved and thankful all at the same time.

Sophia saw a doctor voluntarily for the first time in her life. He confirmed her own diagnosis, and her prognosis. He was deliberately vague about the final stage that may last a year or so, during which she would have delusions of grandeur, and underplayed the paralysis and insanity that would finally cause her death. He advised her not to have children, and in fact to refrain from sex since she would become infectious again at some time before the final stage commenced. There was nothing that Sophia hadn't known, but hearing it from the doctor made it that much more authentic. She went back to the boat to tell John, and decided that from now on, the baby would be called Ruth.

Sophia and John were married in the Wesleyan Church in Hobart on the 15th of October 1845, with just a few friends from the waterfront present. Sophia had just turned 24, John was nearly 22, and Ruth was six months old. After the wedding they rented a house in Harrington Street and thought that if all went well, they could soon take young John back from the orphanage. They could also use the house as a depot for storing contraband until it was sold. Sophia took up residence and was thankful not to have to live on the boat again.

They had found that clothing was always in short supply and the trousers and shirts made for convicts were at least equal in quality to anything people could afford to buy in the shops. The pattern of clothing issued to Government workers was similar, so all you had to do was wash out the Government markings, and you would look perfectly respectable. It took a lot of soaking and scrubbing to remove the broad arrows, but Sophia had spent a lot of time in laundries and knew a few tricks. It became her job to prepare the clothing for sale. The wash tubs were in a lean-to behind the house and were visible to passers by, so to aid in the deception Sophia took in washing from single working men. To the casual observer her daily washing would look normal and wouldn't arouse suspicion, and it also added to her income.

Within a few months Sophia and John had settled into a comfortable relationship, and Sophia thought about having Ruth Christened. Now that she was married she would name John as the father. She put that idea to him.

'Ruth is nearly a year old now, and I'd like to have her Christened. I'm not sure if there's a God, but I don't want her to be cast out of Heaven if there is one. Would you agree to be recorded as her father?'

John was happy with that. He liked Ruth, and she was no trouble at this stage of her life, so the baby was duly baptised on the 4th of February 1846 at the same Wesleyan Church in Hobart, and was known as Ruth Elizabeth Tregilgus from then on.

They spent some months illegally selling off as much cargo as they dared, and at the same time looking for a suitable boat. Finally they bought a boat in May of 1846. Coincidentally it was named 'Sophia'. She was 40 feet long, 14 feet wide with a 7 foot draught, and displaced 22 tons. She was normally crewed by the skipper and two deck hands, and had been built and named in 1841. John successfully applied for the government contract and by July the Tregilguses were in the shipping business.

# Chapter 18

# The Trousers

The normal practice for delivering convict clothing by sea to the remote depots, was to pack shirts and trousers separately in bales of 100, and sew them up with twine. The bales were loaded onto the contracted boat, and offloaded at the destination. The only counting was of the number of bales, not of the contents. Later if a bale was found to be deficient it wasn't possible to pin down the place where the deficiency occurred. An enterprising thief simply opened the bale, removed as many items as he dared, although more than two or three at a time might arouse too much suspicion, and sewed it up again with the same type of twine.

This system was working perfectly for the Tregilgus family and may have gone on much longer except for a stroke of bad luck. Deck hands came and went frequently, and the two current ones that John had hired were eager to take part in the scheme, but were not noted for their intelligence. In August of 1846 the 'Sophia' was sailing south from Hobart to the depot at Port Cygnet with John at the helm, Harry Malkin trimming the sails and Tom Hodgson below decks cutting open a bale of clothing.

'Skipper', Hodgson called up to John on the main deck. 'How many do you want to take out of this lot?'

'No more than two pairs from each bale Tom. We don't want to overdo it.' Handspike Jack was in his element here. Sailing his own boat and creaming off cargo for extra profit. His Cornish smuggling ancestors, if he had any, would have been proud of him.

'Aye-aye,' Hodgson called back, 'but we are out of that special twine that they use to sew these bales up. I forgot to get some more after our last trip.'

John cursed. Using different twine would show the bale had been tampered with. But it was too late. The original twine had been cut.

'Just make sure that it's sewn up neat, and stow those things out of sight until we get home.' John said.

'Aye skipper.' Hodgson replied, stuffing some trousers into the chain locker.

They delivered the bales to Port Cygnet Station on the 24th, and some of those were sent on by wagon to Nicholls Rivulet, another depot a few miles away. Nothing was noticed amiss, and the 'Sophia' cast off and headed back to Hobart with some more clothes for Sophia to prepare for sale.

A few days later, three police officers arrived at the dock where the schooner was tied up between trips. They approached the skipper.

'I am Sergeant Goldsmith and these officers are Constables Brown and Daley. I have a warrant to search this vessel.'

John wasn't concerned, since all the pilfered articles had been removed. 'Certainly Sergeant, but what are you looking for?' asked John innocently.

'Certain items have been reported missing from a shipment you have made recently, and we believe that they may be hidden on board.' the Sergeant replied.

As they were speaking Brown disappeared below to start the search.

John had a story ready for this eventuality, but said nothing since he was sure that there was nothing here to be found. But within a few minutes Brown was back on deck holding a pair of trousers. He examined them closely and when held at the right angle the faint remains of the broad arrow pattern appeared, labelling them as convict clothing.

John was surprised, but immediately went into his prepared story. 'What have you got there Constable?' he asked, and without waiting for a reply went on, 'I suspect that one of my deck hands must have pilfered those and kept them for himself.'

Goldsmith wasn't taken in.

'Perhaps so Mr. Tregilgus, but I'd like to go to your house now, and see what else may be there.'

John was aghast. He knew there would be other items there, but had no choice but to pretend his innocence.

'Of course Sergeant, may I go on ahead and let my wife know there will be company?'

Sergeant Goldsmith wasn't going to be taken in by that ploy.

'No Mr. Tregilgus, let's all go together.'

They walked the half mile to the Tregilgus house and surprised Sophia at her laundry tub. John started to introduce the police, but Daley pushed past, and plunged his hand into the half-full tub. He withdrew a pair of trousers plainly showing the broad arrow markings. Sophia had the old, and now familiar feeling that came with being caught red handed, and said nothing. They were both arrested and taken to the police station, where they found that Malkin and Hodgson were already in custody. They had been caught wearing marked trousers.

Malkin was questioned first, and John and Sophia had a brief opportunity to talk to Hodgson alone. John had already decided it was Hodgson who was responsible for them getting caught, and thought it only fair he take the consequences.

'Listen Hodgson, this is all your doing. I want you to say it was your idea, and take the blame for the whole thing.'

'Yes.' said Sophia, 'You'll probably only get six months. We'll look after you, and you will have a job when you get out.' She had no intention of either looking after him, or giving him a job again, but he was a simple man and just needed reassuring that it would be alright.

So when he was questioned, Hodgson made a statement that it was all his doing, and the others were not involved. The police were not convinced and charged them all, but later at he preliminary hearing, all except Hodgson were granted bail. The Hobart Town Courier reported the news on the 30th of September 1846:

'Robbery on Board a Vessel --- John Tregilgus, Sophia Tregilgus, Henry Malcolm (sic), and Thomas Hodgson have been fully committed for trial, after several examinations, charged with robbery under the following circumstances. Tregilgus was master of the Schooner Sophia, employed by the Ordnance Department to convey stores to the different stations. A number of bales of goods were put on board to be conveyed to the Port Cygnet station. On arrival there a considerable deficiency was discovered in the amount of goods in the bales, as compared with the description in the account forwarded to the officers at Port Cygnet. An enquiry was instituted, and the conclusion arrived at was that several of the bales must have been opened, and portions of their contents abstracted in the trip of the Sophia. On her return to port, police made a search. Concealed under the lining of the vessel the officers found a pair of moleskin trowsers, of the same fabric and description as some that were missing. The 'broad arrow', and the marks 'BO' had been nearly obliterated, and the trowsers were wet. The prisoners Malcolm and Hodgson had each a pair of similar trowsers on their persons, the marks having been partially erased. At the house of Tregilgus and his wife, in Harrington Street, were found three other new pairs of trowsers in a washing tub; these articles were in steep, in water, and the brands upon them were quite plain. When the several examinations had been concluded, and the prisoners were called upon for their defence, Hodgson said he alone had committed the robbery. All the prisoners were fully committed, but Tregilgus and his wife, and Malcolm, were admitted to bail.'

Back at home, John and Sophia discussed how they would deal with this problem. The Ordnance department had already cancelled their contract, and now they had to fill in time until their Court appearance.

'I don't think I should go to Court,' John was saying, as Sophia cooked their evening meal.

Sophia was surprised. 'Hodgson has admitted it was all his doing so there won't be any problem. You haven't got a police record, so you would only get a light sentence anyway. I've got less than a year to go before I get my Certificate so I've got more to lose than you.' Sophia's original sentence was due to finish in October 1847.

John hadn't told her about his desertion from the Navy, so all she knew about were the police assaults where he had used a false name. Now he had to tell her. After he'd finished, he said,

'If they find I'm a deserter I'll be in gaol until the next Navy ship arrives, and then I could be sent back to England. I think I'd better disappear for a while.'

Sophia now understood John's reluctance to get involved with the law under his own name, and agreed that he should hide. If they decided to send him back to England to face the Navy charges it would ruin all their plans. But she was nearly free. She made a decision.

'I've nearly finished my time so I'm not going to run away and have the whole thing start again. John is still in the Orphanage too. I'm staying for a while. I can always get a job in a pub again. Where can you go to that no one will find you?' she asked.

'I think New Zealand might be the best. I've been there before and it's not a bad place. I'll look around and see if we can do something over there. I'd like to run a hotel. Hodgson has admitted everything so you'll get off, and you can come over as soon as you get the Certificate. If anyone asks, tell them I've gone to Sydney.'

With a new plan in place John set sail for Auckland. Passports had existed in various forms since Roman times, but would not become compulsory for international travel until the 20th Century. Although he and his vessel would be logged into Auckland in their Customs records, he would need no other paperwork to identify himself or to explain his arrival. He was in New Zealand before the trial started.

The authorities decided to hold two trials, since it seemed easier to convict the deckhands and that would add weight to the case against the Tregilguses. So Malkin and Hodgson were tried first and Sophia was called as a witness for the defence. John did not appear and she informed the Court that he had left the Colony, so his surety was forfeited, and the trial proceeded. The deck hands defended themselves, but by now Hodgson was having second thoughts about taking the blame, and Malkin was doing his best to heap blame upon him. Evidence was taken from John Turner the Principal Storeman at the Hobart Ordnance Stores, who packed the bales and handed them to Thomas Greene to deliver to the 'Sophia'. Then Mr. Terry, the Overseer at Port Cygnet testified that Malkin was in the boat from which the bales were landed, along with 'Handspike Jack' whose real name he couldn't recall, but on being reminded, agreed it was Tregilgus. Charles Brooks corroborated the story, and was present later when a bale was opened and found to contain only 97 pairs instead of 100. Joseph Scott from Nicholls Rivulet Station noted that on bales delivered to him, there were two different sewings.

The Police described their discoveries of the clothing on the boat and at the house. The prisoners were then asked to proceed with their defence. Hodgson stated that Tregilgus had asked him several times to take this on himself, and that Mrs Tregilgus had said she would take care of him and he would want for nothing while he was in trouble. At last he had consented and made a statement to that effect. He now wanted to withdraw the statement, and said that the trousers found at the house had been taken there by Tregilgus, wrapped in a blanket.

Malkin had protested his innocence throughout, and now tried to blame everyone else. He said that it was strange that Hodgson now wanted to change his statement. To prove that Tregilgus was involved, Malkin called as a witness, Michael Fitzpatrick, a sawyer at Port Cygnet.

Fitzpatrick stated:

'I went on board to ask Tregilgus if he could take any sawed timber, and he said he could. He asked me if I would buy any trousers as he would sell them cheap. I asked what he wanted and he said six shillings and sixpence each. I said they were cheap and bought them. They are now worn by one of my men. I did not know why I was subpoenaed.'

Under cross examination by the Solicitor General, Fitzpatrick stated that both the prisoners and Tregilgus were present at that time, thus ruining Malkin's defence. Undaunted by this setback Malkin called Sophia to testify in an attempt to shift the blame again. Malkin asked her:

'When was the last time I spoke to you?'

'It was the same day that my husband and myself were apprehended.'

'Who brought the trousers to your house?'

'Hodgson brought the trousers.'

'How many were there?'

'There were more than two pair. I asked him if he wanted the marks taken out and he said yes. He showed me a pair he had on with the marks out.'

'What happened to the trousers?'

'Goldsmith took them away.'

The Solicitor General cross examined Sophia.

'Did you see Malkin on the day you were arrested?'

'Malkin came first and brought some shirts and towels for me to wash for him.'

'When did you see Hodgson?'

'Hodgson came in the afternoon.'

'Did you know Hodgson?'

'I did not know his name until I heard it at the Police Office.'

'But you knew Malkin?'

'Yes, Malkin was called Harry.'

'Did you tell the Constable that Malkin brought the trousers to your house?'

Sophia pretended to have forgotten.

'I cannot say whether I have said that Harry brought the trousers.'

The Solicitor General tried to make Sophia admit to conspiring with Malkin against Hodgson.

'Have you discussed your statement with Malkin to attempt to set the blame on Hodgson?'

'I have had no conversation with him about this trial.' was Sophia's indignant reply.

Hodgson could see himself being set up and started to interject, and Sophia spoke angrily directly to him.

'You brought those trousers in the afternoon wrapped in an old towel. My husband never to my knowledge brought a blanket with trousers in it, and I never said that you'd get six months and that I would do all I could for you while you were in trouble.'

The Chairman restored order and said that it was one of the most difficult cases he had had to deal with for some time, as the truth was clouded by the conflicting stories. Addressing the jury he summarised the evidence:

'These men are charged with stealing, in conjunction with Tregilgus who is not present, five pairs of trousers the property of the Queen. From the evidence of Mr. Turner it will be seen that the bales contained 100 pairs of trousers, and were well packed up. The bales were landed at the station and put into stores and from their appearance it was suspected all was not right, there was a looseness about them, and the original sewing was out....'

The jury also found it hard to determine who was telling the truth, and within a short time returned a verdict of 'Not Guilty' for both men. This verdict made it almost impossible for a guilty verdict against John and Sophia, so the charges against them were dropped. They were all free, and Sophia and the deck hands got off without losing a penny, but it cost John his surety. He was already in Auckland and although he didn't know it, the newspaper reports of the case and of his non-appearance, would come back to haunt him years later. As far as the Comptroller General of Prisons was concerned though, Sophia was in the clear, and her Ticket of Leave wasn't affected.

Only a few days later Sophia saw an advertisement in the Hobart Mercury for a barmaid in a small six bedroom hotel in Argyle Street, the same street as the Hobart Ordnance Depot where supplies were packed and distributed to convict depots, and it turned out that many of the regular customers worked there. She was hired, and wrote to John to let him know that she was going to be alright until he could return.

Sophia visited the orphanage at least once a month and expected that soon she would be able to take young John back to live with her. He was nearly four years old now, and could be a problem to look after while she was so busy working in the hotel. She decided to leave him there a bit longer, perhaps until he started school in a year or so.

Business was reasonably good over the next year as the recent economic recession was nearly over, the economy recovered, and Hobart's population reached about 20,000.

News from Australia was regularly reported in New Zealand so John kept up with events. Rumours circulated that hotel trading times were to be tightened, and convict transportation was being opposed more vigorously than ever. It occurred to him that if both those things happened, Tasmania could stagnate, and would have no appeal as a place to run any sort of business. He knew now that no one was looking for him, but he wasn't interested in returning to Hobart. He wrote to Sophia regularly from Auckland where he was getting steady work, and living in a rented house.

With her life now on an even keel, and her future looking more promising than it had for years, Sophia again thought that she should take John out of the orphanage. She had always felt guilty about leaving him there even though she had no choice, and now she would take him back to try to give him a better chance at a normal life. He was nearly old enough to start school, and seemed to be doing well, given the difficult circumstances of his beginnings. The process to release him from the orphanage was completed, and on the 27th of September 1847, four and a half year old John accompanied his mother to his first home outside an institution.

Sophia's original sentence was nearly up now, and with the addition of that six month sentence for her first pregnancy it would be finished in April of 1848. On her next regular monthly visit to the Magistrate's court to register her address and occupation, she casually mentioned to the clerk that her sentence was nearly complete. He checked his records.

'Yes,' he said, 'your seven year sentence finishes on the fourteenth of October.'

Sophia started to ask about the extra six months but stopped.

'Then I can get a Certificate of Freedom on the fourteenth?'

'Not quite, it will be ready on the fifteenth for you to collect.'

'And then I'm free to go anywhere I please?'

'Yes you can leave the colony and go to the mainland or back to England if you can afford the fare. You can also apply for the payment of money that you would have been credited with for your work in gaol. That will take a little longer to do since we have to check with all the prisons you've been in, and the money has to come from the Colonial Office in London.'

By Sophia's quick calculation she was owed about fifteen shillings. A reasonable sum, but the last thing she wanted was for anyone to check her records and maybe find out that she should do another six months. Anyway, she wasn't staying around to wait for the money.

'I don't think I'll bother with the payments, I'll just be happy with the Certificate.'

'Yes, everyone seems to say that.' said the clerk.

She left feeling on top of the world. Only two weeks to go until she was free.

Sophia received her Certificate of Freedom as promised, and immediately booked passage to Auckland. A couple of weeks to pack up, and get the children organised, and they were off. She wasn't sorry to see Hobart recede astern as they steamed out into Storm Bay, and noticed how much it had changed since she last saw it from this viewpoint aboard the 'Lady Franklin' seven years before. Sophia was starting a new chapter in her life, and it seemed an appropriate time for her to change her name again. Henceforth, all who met her would know her as Kezia Tregilgus.

# Chapter 19

# A Fresh Start

After a smooth trip across the Tasman Sea, they reached Auckland on schedule. John met them and showed them to their new home in Queen Street just a few hundred yards from the waterfront. Their house was in the middle of town with business premises situated at intervals along the street, and it wasn't long before Kezia saw an opportunity to start her own business in the one real interest and talent that she had, sewing. They decided to sell the 'Sophia' and set up a women's clothing, hat and drapery shop. John had to shave his beard down to just moustache and whiskers to look like a businessman.

They stayed in that business for the next three years, and did well, but the market was small, new competitors kept arriving and it was clear that they were not going to make a lot of money in the short term. The California Gold Rush started in 1849, and it was obvious that money could be made quicker either by finding gold, or by setting up a business to supply the diggers at the goldfields. But America was too far away and they were probably too late to get into the real action, so they decided to stay in their little shop for now.

John was restless though, and was always looking for ideas that could improve their income. He missed the sea, and working with women's clothing didn't fill the gap. Running a hotel had been in the back of his mind for years, and he sometimes brought it up with his wife.

'You know Kez, this business might not have a long term future here. I've been reading about the mainland, and the Port Phillip district looks like the place to go. There are new towns springing up all over the place, and land is almost being given away. We could start a hotel somewhere there. You remember Tom Menallack from the old country don't you? He went over there to start a pub and never came back so it must be doing all right.'

Kezia had met Menallack in Hobart, since the Cornish immigrants tended to associate together, and he had been around several times to talk to John. She had been reading newspapers too, and had formed a similar view about the future of the mainland. 'Yes it seems to be going ahead quickly there, but I'm not sure about running a hotel. Even if we built one over there, with the population growing as it is, it wouldn't be long before there would be a dozen others all competing for our business.'

John wasn't put off. 'Well, prices are rising all the time, so if we are going to move, the sooner the better. Why don't I go and have a look at the prospects there and then we can decide. I'll look up Tom and see what he has to say.' Then to make sure she would agree he added, 'I'll look at the possibilities of farming too. That may be worthwhile as well.'

Farming was something Kezia had often talked about, and with the price of food as it was, it certainly looked an attractive alternative to running a pub. 'All right,' she said, 'if you must go, I can run this place for a while.'

John took the next boat to Port Philip, and was surprised at the number of ships at the anchorage at the mouth of the Yarra River. The river was too shallow for seagoing ships to enter, so as immigrant ships arrived they anchored in Hobson's Bay and passengers were ferried ashore by lighters. Some went to Liardet's pier at Sandridge, while others travelled nearly five miles via the winding Yarra River to Queens Wharf in the centre of town. A plan was already taking shape to dredge the mouth of the Yarra, and to straighten its course to take larger ships. That was many years away yet though. Cargo was similarly handled, and there were at least four ships arriving every week, some carrying as many as 200 passengers at a time. Others were leaving with cargo, so there was always plenty of activity in Hobson's Bay. Melbourne was officially founded in 1836, some 30 years after Hobart, but was already twice the size of that town.

It didn't take long for John to locate his friend Menallack who was well known in Melbourne, owning property in Little Collins Street. John called to talk to him, and after greetings they sat down with a bottle of Tom's best rum. John was already impressed with his friend's obvious prosperity, and was more eager than ever to find out how to get into the action.

'You've done well for yourself Tom, how did you get enough money together to buy this place?'

'I was lucky Jack, I arrived just at the right time and got this pub at a very good price. Prices have gone up every year and it would be out of reach if I was starting now.'

John was disappointed to hear that. 'Our little shop is doing alright but I think we need to get into a growth business. Do you think it's still worthwhile to come here and build a pub?'

Tom thought for a moment. 'If you're prepared to get out of town a bit, there's plenty of opportunity here. I've got a brick works about four miles north of town at a place called Brunswick, and I'm thinking of building a pub there. Why don't you come with me tomorrow and have a look around.'

John agreed, and next day they rode out to the little settlement of Brunswick. The area had been surveyed 20 years earlier and was divided into huge rectangular blocks with the long boundaries running east-west, each roughly one and a half miles long by one quarter mile wide. They were situated on either side of a track heading north that would eventually lead to Sydney. The size and placement of these blocks would have ramifications years later, as they restricted the development of roads in the area. Most of the area was marshy, and most blocks were not suitable for farming, while others featured rocky ground where bluestone quarries had been operating for several years. Tom's idea was to build a pub to cater for the workers at the quarries and the brickworks. At that time though, only about 300 people lived in the immediate district.

After looking around, John realised there wasn't enough potential business here for two pubs at this stage of development, and Tom already had the prime location earmarked for himself. Since farming wasn't viable John started to think about looking elsewhere. Then Tom made a suggestion.

'With all this quarrying going on here, and a growing need for stone as buildings go up in Melbourne, I think that carting stone for the builders would be a good business. I often have to wait for days to get my bricks delivered to Melbourne.' John looked interested, so he went on. 'You could start a transport business, and later if the population keeps growing as it surely will, you will be able to sell it and buy a hotel.'

They looked around for a couple of days, and the idea took root in John's mind. Setting up a business like that would cost next to nothing, just a couple of horses and a dray, and as long as the demand for building material lasted, it should be profitable. Horses were expensive, but much less than building a decent hotel. He decided to discuss it with Kezia. Bidding goodbye to Menallack, John set off for Queen's Wharf at the end of Elizabeth Street where he booked his passage back to New Zealand.

After arriving back, and following some discussion, Kezia was persuaded that going to Melbourne was the best course of action. She wasn't fully convinced though so they decided to keep the house and leave most of their belongings in Auckland. They held a sale and liquidated as much stock as possible before storing the rest, packing their belongings, and within a couple of months they were ready to go. They boarded their ship in August and settled down for the trip to Melbourne.

At this stage of its development Melbourne was only 13 years old, was still part of New South Wales, and was administered from Sydney by the Colonial Governor. A convict settlement had been established at Westernport in the early days, but was closed down and now the vast majority of the population of around 40,000 were free immigrants. The British Government's scheme during the 1840s to dump convicts in Melbourne disguised as free men by pardoning them as they stepped off the ship, had now been stopped. These men were free, but not allowed to return to England before the completion of their sentence, so they were officially Exiles. Public opinion led by several newspapers had brought that scheme to an end in 1849, but not before nearly 2,000 criminals had arrived. They were now dispersed throughout the population, and some of them were policemen.

Nevertheless, Melburnians saw themselves as superior to the penal colonies of Sydney and Hobart, and government from afar was irksome to the Melbourne residents. They were already making representation for their own separate State to run their own affairs. So far however, nothing had eventuated from their submissions.

High unemployment in England and Scotland had forced many farm workers to come to Australia, and large numbers arrived at Geelong. They spread out through the country already occupied by squatters who were running thousands of sheep. Others arriving in Melbourne found accommodation scarce, and had to live in tents on the south side of the Yarra. There, a large open grassy area known as Emerald Hill had become populated with hundreds of tents and a few ramshackle huts, where people lived until they could find permanent accommodation. A timber bridge had just been completed over the Yarra from Swanston Street, and gave these 'Canvas Town' people access to the town centre. Before the bridge was built, the only access was via a punt further upstream at Punt Road. Over all, the town was growing quickly, and the future of Melbourne looked brighter than just about anywhere in Australia.

The Tregilgus family arrived in Hobson's Bay where their ship tied up at Liardet's Pier. As they set foot on the wharf, Kezia noticed a man looking at them intently. He didn't look like a dock worker, and as she stared back he looked away, then began similarly checking other passengers. Kezia didn't give him any more thought, and a few minutes later he moved away.

Detective Constable Joseph Allen's task today was to observe arriving passengers to identify criminals among them who would be watched later. He was considered admirably suited to this task because he was one of the criminals who were pardoned as his convict ship arrived in Melbourne in 1846. His ten year sentence had been cut to just over two. Joe knew that the only criminals he could recognise by sight were his mates from Glasgow, but his Inspector didn't know that, and it was a steady job. Now he decided that there was no one arriving among these passengers who required any further investigation, and it was time to go to the Donnybrook Inn for his regular lunchtime drink.

The Tregilgus family had arrived in Melbourne as economic expansion was providing increasing opportunities for enterprising business people, and John had high hopes that they could get their share of the wealth, and perhaps someone else's share too, if they were lucky.

Tom Menallack provided them with accommodation while John bought a dray and a couple of horses, and set about finding customers and suppliers to start off his general delivery business. Carting water had always been profitable, but there were already many established carriers in that business, and John thought that Menallack's original idea of bricks and stone would still be the best option.

Kezia organised the children to go to school, and did some investigating of her own into the possibilities that this town might offer. She was dismayed to find that a block of land in Collins Street was for sale at 2,000 pounds. That was way out of their price range, and she started to doubt the wisdom of coming here. The suburbs of Fitzroy and Collingwood were being established just north of the town, but even there a house was as much as they could afford. After telling John about it, he suggested they look at Brunswick which was considered a long way out of town, but where the prices were much cheaper. So a few weeks later they rented a house at Brunswick, close to the quarries, where John could get plenty of work carting bricks and stone blocks to the city. Menallack hadn't built his hotel after all, and John was annoyed by his friend's advice to go into the Carrying business when he could possibly have built his own hotel.

Soon, John found ways of selling off a few bricks from each load to supplement his otherwise honest income. Business was good through that first year, although loading and unloading bricks and stone was hard work, and one load a day over the rough dirt road from Brunswick to the city was all John could manage. Nevertheless, their savings towards the purchase of a hotel were accumulating nicely, and at the present rate they may have been able to afford something suitable in a year or two. Prices were still rising though, and Collins Street blocks were now selling for 5,000 pounds. As their bank balance increased, the cost of buying a hotel increased at nearly the same rate. Then fate took turn against them.

Rumours of gold being found in New South Wales had circulated for some time, and were always officially denied. However in 1851, the news erupted that gold had been found at Bathurst, and every able bodied man who wasn't tied down headed north. Building projects were abandoned, and John's carrying business stagnated. Some business people in Melbourne sold their properties cheaply to head to the goldfields, and if John and Kezia had just had enough money at that time, they could have made their fortune by buying property in the centre of town. Instead they were just holding on to their business, trying not to draw on their savings and hoping that something good would happen. But it got worse.

Within months, gold was officially discovered at Ballarat just 60 miles away, and another big rush started. Melbourne was all but deserted, except for women and children left behind as their men headed west. The police force of 55 men was reduced to just five as the rest deserted their posts. That year the price of property in the vicinity of Melbourne rose tenfold. By the time the news of the massive Sandhurst strike came just months later, almost every able bodied man in Melbourne was on his way to the diggings. Inflation was out of control. It cost more to transport cargo from Hobson's Bay up the Yarra to the centre of town than it did to ship from England to Hobson's Bay. Within a year the number of ships arriving increased to an average of 30 each week, and that block of land in Collins Street sold for 40,000 pounds.

The Tregilguses were priced out of property in the entire settled area, and to rub salt into the wound, Brunswick became a staging point for travellers leaving Melbourne for the gold fields. Shops and hotels were erected by wealthier people to take advantage of the situation. Tom Menallack closed his brick yard and headed to the goldfields. Most quarries closed down too, and the requirement for the carriage of bricks disappeared.

Self-Government was approved for the new State of Victoria on the 1st of July 1851, and all former New South Wales Government appointments were gazetted for the new State. The Argus newspaper reported those appointments, among which was the Geelong harbourmaster, and Kezia was surprised to see that it was none other than Captain Charles Ferguson, formerly Master of the Rajah. Within a year Ferguson was promoted to Chief Harbourmaster for Port Philip and he and his wife, the former Kezia Heyter, and their two children settled at Williamstown on the western shore of Hobson's Bay. Kezia wondered if the Fergusons still had the quilt.

They were still struggling to make ends meet when news came that the transportation of convicts to Australia would cease. The British Government had all sorts of reasons for doing this at this time, not the least of which was that sending felons on a free trip to a gold mine seemed inappropriate. Kezia wondered how much Elizabeth Fry and her organization had to do with it. 'Probably nothing' she thought, somewhat uncharitably.

If Kezia thought things could not get any worse for them, she was sadly mistaken. Young John, now aged 10, helped his father load bricks whenever he wasn't at school. The accident that severely injured him happened after school on a Wednesday afternoon, as he was helping to load bricks for the next morning's delivery. John was talking to the quarryman at the time, and neither he nor anyone else saw exactly what happened. Despite the best medical care they could afford, the boy died next day on the 10th of March 1853.

Following her son's burial on the Friday, Kezia was devastated and wanted to leave this place that had offered so much, yet had brought so much distress. Despite John's reassurances that things would improve, she wanted to leave. John convinced her to wait a while, and so she did, but she wasn't happy in Melbourne from then on. Finally, in 1854, despite the rapid growth of the population to nearly 200,000, and another building boom starting, Kezia wore John down and they started looking for other opportunities. They discussed their options, and Kezia was annoyed at John's desire to stay and eventually buy a hotel.

'Before you tell me that running a hotel somewhere will be profitable, I want to look at the possibility of farming.'

John was still conscious of the fact that it was mostly Kezia's money that got him into business, so he was prepared to at least discuss the idea for her sake.

'Very well, do you have any place in mind?'

'I've been reading about the Lockyer Valley west of Moreton Bay, and the Darling Downs. The papers say they are some of the best farming areas in the world, and still cheap. What do you think about going up there?'

He looked thoughtful. 'I've sailed through the tropics many times and even though those places aren't quite in the tropics, I can tell you it will be hot there. It will be hard work starting a farm, and you may find it just too much for you.'

She was encouraged by his response. It was more positive than she had expected. Then he went on;

'I've been looking at another place that might suit both of us. There's a place called Grafton on the Clarence River between Sydney and Brisbane. It has a boat building industry, hotels, and farming. What about having a look at it, and if it isn't as good as it looks, we can go on to the Lockyer Valley.'

This was probably as good a response as she was going to get, so Kezia agreed.

John was delighted. He felt sure that they would find farming very hard, being at the mercy of the weather and unpredictable rainfall, but he was prepared to give her a chance. They just had to sell their business, and pick up their belongings from Auckland.

Now at last they had some luck. Due to the new boom and the general rise in prices, they finished up selling their business at a fair price and so were able to leave Melbourne with the reasonable expectation that they could buy sufficient land to make a viable farm. As they were preparing to leave, Tom Menallack arrived back from the goldfields with a small fortune, having been among the small percentage of successful miners, and started building his hotel, to be called the Cornish Arms. That was rubbing even more salt into the wounds, and now John was pleased to be leaving too.

On Wednesday the 13th of September 1854 John, Kezia and Ruth boarded the 127 ton barque 'Elizabeth' with just 12 other passengers for the short trip back to Auckland. They sailed the next day and arrived in Auckland on Saturday the 30th. They decided to sell all their goods and chattels rather than pack them and take them to a place where they may not have suitable housing. Kezia set up her remaining clothing and hat stock for a closing down sale while John arranged for Auctioneers Connell and Ridings to sell all their furniture and household belongings.

The advertisements for the auction appeared in the daily paper, to take place at the Tregilgus house in Queen Street on Thursday the 2ndof November 1854. The items offered were;

A quantity of Drapery and other Goods including shawls, mantles, muslins, dresses, bonnets, artificial flowers, gloves, some men's trousers and ties along with some furniture, a 12 foot long telescope table, a handsome Mantle Piece Clock, a very superior Musical Box playing eight admired airs, chest of drawers, bedstead and cooking utensils &c, &c.

Everything was sold, and they were ready to leave. Ruth was about to start her third year of school and Kezia suspected that her future education might be difficult in the less populated areas that they were heading for, but thought that if all else failed she could teach Ruth herself at home.

They were booked to leave Auckland on the schooner 'Marmora' on Saturday the 11th of November, arriving in Sydney on Monday the 4th of December 1854.

From there they would board a coastal steamer and sail north to the Clarence River to begin yet another phase of Kezia's life.

# Chapter 20

# Grafton

The Clarence River district was discovered in 1831 by an escaped Moreton Bay convict named Richard Craig who noticed that there was an abundance of cedar trees growing along its banks. Cedar was one of the few Australian timbers suitable for boat building so this was a significant discovery. When he reported this discovery on what he called the 'Big River' he was pardoned and awarded a contract to cut the trees and transport the logs to Sydney. By 1836 he started logging and very soon the area became well known, and many more loggers, squatters and settlers started arriving.

The town of Grafton was established in about 1840, well inland from the mouth of the river, and ship building began on the river to save the cost of transporting the logs. Once surveys were completed, town land began selling from 1851. The district became an exporter of wool brought down from the squatters on the New England Tableland, and with established schools churches and hotels the town's future looked very bright, even though the cedar was already running out.

As the Tregilguses arrived the local boat building industry ceased although there was still regular shipping to and from Sydney and Brisbane. A sawmill was still operating, owned by a German immigrant named Kirchner who also built a soap and candle making factory. To ensure he had enough labour for his works he arranged for a ship load of German immigrants to arrive to work under contract. The arrangement worked out well and once their contracts were finished most stayed on and began farming and growing grapes for wine making.

John was disappointed that the shipping industry hadn't kept going, and the best farming land was already taken up so he began work as a labourer while applying for a grant of land to build a house and have a small garden to be as self-sufficient as possible. He also saw some possibilities in befriending local business people some of whom had ambitions to enter politics at the upcoming election in April of 1856. Those men were actively garnering support from voters with vague offers of rewards if they were elected.

John became active in the support of Oliver Fry who was the district Crown Commissioner and Magistrate, joining a number of other residents in advertising their support in the local newspaper and begging Fry to accept nomination. Fry accepted and held public meetings at various locations in the district leading up to election day. He was the overwhelming favourite to win the seat until one of his opponents exposed some back room dealing between Fry and someone in an adjoining district to exchange seats.

Fry initially strenuously denied any such deal, but proof was at hand and became public knowledge. His support disappeared so he withdrew from the election. John had been expecting some benefit such as pre-warning of upcoming government decisions that he could take advantage of, to flow to himself from Fry's election. But now that there was no chance of that, and with no work in the shipping industry, he talked to Kezia about their prospects here, and they decided to leave.

By the time the land grant he had applied for was gazetted later that year the Tregilguses were 500 miles away, and they never paid the fee to take up that land.

# Chapter 21

# Overland

The steamer rounded the northern tip of Moreton Island at dawn, and steered southwest for the mouth of the Brisbane River. Shipping usually followed this long route now, ever since the 'Sovereign' foundered trying to take the shorter route across the South Passage bar between Moreton and Stradbroke Islands, and drowned 40 people seven years earlier. It was followed by the grounding of the 'Countess of Derby' only a year ago. The weather was fine and clear and a light northerly wind blew the grey smoke from the funnel out to the port side of the ship. The water was calm and Ruth was fascinated by a pod of dolphins that swam alongside the ship. The sun rising behind the ship highlighted the shoreline and the range of hills a few miles inland. There was as yet no visible sign of habitation because the town of Brisbane was nearly 10 miles upstream from the river-mouth.

An hour later they were nearing the mouth of the river and hove-to just north of Saint Helena Island until the pilot boat arrived to navigate them through the shallow approaches to the river. The Tregilguses were enjoying the spring warmth after living all their lives in cold climates, but they knew it would get much hotter than this, and they both hoped that they would acclimatise quickly. Almost nine years old now, Ruth had enjoyed the sea trip and the warmer weather had been good for her incessant cough. John had given up shaving with the anticipation that he probably wouldn't always have time or possibly spare water in the future, and his full beard was starting to grow as it had in his seafaring days. They didn't intend to stay in Brisbane any longer than was necessary to buy horses, a suitable wagon, and enough supplies to sustain them until they reached the Lockyer Valley about 40 miles to the southwest where they expected to be able to buy a block of a few acres to begin their farming adventure.

And so, two weeks later with all their goods and chattels loaded into their new wagon, and a pair of giant Shire horses to pull it, they were ready to go. It had been a busy time, and they had been given plenty of conflicting advice from the various people they'd come across. John and Kezia didn't know which information was accurate so they noted everything they were told, and decided to wait and see for themselves. It had been expensive too. Horses were expensive animals to buy and to maintain, costing as much as the expected farm income in the first year, but they needed them for ploughing later. The wagon and supplies were dearer than Kezia had expected, so there wasn't as much money left to buy land as she had estimated. Nevertheless, with the going rate at around 2 pounds per acre, she expected to be able to afford perhaps 20 acres. That should be enough to grow food for themselves, with enough left to sell to give them a reasonable income. They crossed the Brisbane River on the punt at New Farm and landed at Kangaroo Point where John made a final check of the wagon, and climbed into the driver's seat. It would be about two days travel to the Valley so they expected to camp at Limestone at about half way. With a flick of the reins, the two big horses took the strain and they were off.

The track to Limestone was well used, and the terrain was fairly flat, so John expected to make good time. After travelling about 7 miles it was nearing midday as they came to a small creek flowing through green fields with only a few trees scattered along the banks. On the far side of the water was a settlement of two hotels, a blacksmith shop, saddlery, general store and a few houses. 'A nice looking little village.' remarked John. 'With two hotels. Perhaps there is good money in hotels here.'

'Yes John, but remember we're looking for a farm.' replied Kezia, heading off any thoughts that he might be developing about getting into the hotel business just yet.

'I know, I'm just remarking on the pleasant appearance of the place.'

John followed the track to the creek bank where it became less distinct as the ruts diverged to either side where previous wagon drivers had selected slightly different paths through the water. John picked what looked like the most used set of wheel tracks and started across. He could see a small group of men watching his approach from the far side. The horses picked their way carefully across the stony bottom, but as they reached the middle of the creek, the wagon slid sideways as a wheel fell into a hole. There was a sound of splitting wood as the spokes broke, and the wagon came to a stop. The group of watching men immediately came to their assistance, wading through the knee-deep water to the stranded wagon.

The first man to reach them said, 'Good morning sir, my name is Frederick Kelly. We can pull your wagon out and get it to the blacksmith's shop for a small fee. It will take a day or so to fix, but in the mean time I have a room at my hotel that you could occupy at a reasonable rate.'

John wondered at the efficiency of these people in helping stranded travellers. 'Thank you Mr. Kelly, please help my wife and daughter to the bank, and when the wagon is out, I'll be happy to talk to you about a room.'

Soon a team of oxen was hitched up and dragged the crippled wagon the 100 yards up the gently sloping ground to the blacksmith's shop. John walked across the road to the hotel, seeing the sign painted along the facade. 'Rocky Waterholes Hotel'. The other hotel was further up the slope away from the creek, but only 50 yards from this one, and John was puzzled. He had heard that the licensing laws allowed for only one hotel in any shire along the highway, and yet here they were next door to each other. Kelly was in the bar, and John ordered a nobbler of rum.

'Welcome to my establishment Mr. Tregilgus. Your wife introduced herself and is now making herself and your daughter comfortable in a room at the back.'

'Thank you Mr. Kelly. You seem to be well organized to assist travellers.'

Kelly smiled. 'Yes, we get a lot of practice. Many wheels and axels break at the crossing. It's known as Rocky Waterholes Creek. We call this village the same name but the Post Master wants to change it to Rocklea.'

'Why haven't you made a safer crossing then?' asked John.

Kelly's smile widened. 'Then we might not get so many customers.'

John understood. He enquired about the two pubs being side by side, and Kelly explained. 'The laws provide for one hotel somewhere within each shire along the road, but the exact position must depend on the local country. As it happens, the shire boundary is just there.' He pointed through the side window to a track heading west from the main road. I'm on the Brisbane side of the boundary and the other pub is just on the Coopers Plains side. 'The authorities didn't like it, but it is legal, and there is enough passing traffic for both of us.' He paused and grinned. 'As long as we don't improve the crossing.'

John was impressed by Kelly's approach to business. He made a mental note to always look for such loopholes if he should ever find himself running a pub again. But that would have to wait until Kezia got the farming bug out of her system.

John said, 'We're heading out towards the farming land past Limestone, hoping to find a good plot that we can cultivate. Do you have any idea of the best places where land is available?'

'Ah well, your about two years too late I think. All the land seems to have been taken up already. You'll probably have to go up the range to the Darling Downs that Mr Cunningham explored. He reported that the land is exceedingly fertile there, but even there you might find it difficult. There was a rush of farmers last year and I expect that all the best land was taken up.'

John was slightly disappointed at this news, but not dismayed. His ambition to own a hotel was on hold for the moment, but if no farming land was available......

'Thank you Mr. Kelly, we'll enjoy your hospitality until the wagon is repaired and we can be on our way.'

By mid-morning the next day the wagon was fixed, and with the bills for repairs and accommodation paid, the Tregilgus family set out once more, heading southwest for the large town of Limestone, the population of which was currently conducting a campaign to have its name changed to Ipswich. Their trip across Cooper's and then Redbank Plains was slow but uneventful, meeting many fellow travellers and the odd teamster hauling provisions to the inland or bringing back wool and farm produce to the city. They camped at Ipswich overnight then continued on towards the excellent farming land that they had heard about, another day's ride to the west. As they went, they passed cleared land, much of it planted with crops, and the small farm houses that the settlers had built for themselves. Kezia recognized good farming country and was particularly impressed with the richness of the soil.

'John this looks like very good country. I hope we can find an unsold lot here.'

'Yes, let's hope.' He said with as much conviction as he could.

John hadn't told her about Kelly's opinion in case it made him seem unenthusiastic. Better to let her find out for herself.

As they traversed the valley enjoying the view of low green rolling hills, they passed through Gatton and after a short stop to water the horses, continued on for a few miles, coming to a tiny settlement with the usual pub, general store and a few houses. It was all surrounded by fields, with crops in various stages of growth, and reminded Kezia of Hale in summer. John pulled up outside the store and they all climbed down from the wagon. Entering the store to enquire about vacant land, John met the shopkeeper.

'Good afternoon. Might I ask what the name of this town is?'

'Good afternoon Sir.' replied the shopkeeper. 'We haven't yet settled on a name for our town. We cannot all agree on a name to be put forward to the Post Master. He must recommend names of new settlements to the Government. The other settlers further along this valley have come up with quite good names for their towns, like Rosewood, Laidley, and Helidon. We'll just have to keep thinking.'

Kezia was looking at the shelves behind the counter lined with tins of meat, jam, biscuits and bags of flour and sugar. She glanced out the window at the ploughed fields.

'The country here reminds me of the farmland in England where I grew up.' she said. 'Grantham was a well-known name there. Why don't you call it Grantham?' she said with a sideways glance at John.

'Well, no one has thought of that name before.' said the shopkeeper, 'It sounds attractive, perhaps people might agree. I'll put it forward at our next meeting and see what others think of it.'

John smiled to himself. This was Kezia's little joke to have her name immortalized. Perhaps this town might grow into a city one day, and she might be remembered. 'Do you know if there is any unsold land around here?' asked John.

'The Government land agent passed here only last week, and he mentioned that there was no vacant land suitable for farming this side of the Darling Downs. Even there, I'm afraid, it's nearly all gone.'

This was the first Kezia had heard of the scarcity of land, but she wasn't going to be put off. Turning to John she said, 'We'll just have to keep going to the Darling Downs then.'

It was another week before they reached the top of the range of hills that separated the coastal lowlands from this fertile plateau of about 600 square miles that had been explored for the first time 20 years earlier. Since that time, settlers had flocked to the place and it was well developed into farming blocks, with some sheep and cattle stations around the outskirts where the dark soil gave way to country more suited to grazing. Another large town was taking shape at the top of the range, and already boasted several hotels, shops and quite a few houses. After finding a camping spot and setting up for an expected stay of several days to rest the horses and themselves after nearly two weeks on the road, John and Kezia set out to find the Government Land Office that they had been told about.

The Land Agent wasn't optimistic about their finding new land, since all the surveyed blocks had been sold at auction, but he suggested they may be able to find an established farmer willing to sell. John and Kezia both knew that an established farm would be expensive and would leave them little money to live on until the first crops could be sold. It wasn't an option they preferred. Seeing their reluctance the Agent offered another suggestion.

'If you want good farming land to start from nothing, the Leichhardt region a hundred and fifty miles north-west of here is due to be surveyed and auctioned in the next year or so. Mr. Leichhardt himself explored the area about ten years ago, and his report is very promising. The whole area is currently occupied by squatters, but the Government has decided to subdivide some of the land near the Dawson River crossing for farming. You may be able to get yourself established there before the survey takes place, but be careful on your way. The blacks are still troublesome out there, and anyone they come across unprotected will likely be attacked.'

John looked at Kezia questioningly. She said, 'I think that will be our best option John, let's go and look at it anyway. I'm sure we can protect ourselves.'

They thanked the Agent and started back to their camp to work out what they needed to take with them to begin a farm in what was to them a vast wilderness with no other civilization within a hundred miles.

Five days later, after talking to teamsters and other travellers about the type of country they were going to cross, and the likelihood of running into hostile blacks, John and Kezia felt they were as prepared as possible, and set off along the only track to the Dawson River. The wagon was loaded high with enough basic food for three or four months, cooking utensils, tools for farming and building, a canvas tarpaulin covering the load that would also serve as shelter at night, and a newly purchased rifle.

The country was mostly flat as they travelled northwest heading first to Jimbour where Leichhardt had started his journey of exploration in 1844. There were fewer farms out here, but plenty of sheep and some cattle. On they travelled, and the country gradually became rougher as the track wended its way higher up the Great Dividing Range. Open land became scarce with brigalow bush growing up to the track on both sides. They camped near the road each night without any fear of attack by blacks, since they hadn't seen any sign of them, but John kept his rifle handy all the same. There were no thoughts of being bailed up by bushrangers either. That particular occupation seemed to still be confined to the southern parts of Australia where the discovery of gold meant that people were accumulating wealth that could be redistributed by enterprising bushrangers. Here, the chance of finding anyone with anything worth stealing was remote, so the instances of hold-ups were few and far between.

There were established camp sites along the way, usually about 20 miles apart, set up by teamsters who regularly travelled back and forth. They made clearings at suitable creek crossings where firewood and water were plentiful. The Tregilguses were making better time than the heavy teamster wagons, and they often arrived at a site early in the afternoon, deciding to camp rather than continue without knowing where the next suitable spot would be. It added time to the trip, but gave the horses a longer break each night.

After several days the track stopped climbing, and started a slow descent that was a lot easier on the horses. It had rained gently for the last few nights, but the temperature was fairly warm and the days were clear. The country started opening out as well, and Kezia could see some open areas in the distance that looked as though they had been cleared. Sighting a cluster of slab buildings off to the east, John headed off on the side track to see who lived there, and to find out some more about their destination that could not be far off now. As they approached, a dog chained to a water tank barked loudly, and a man emerged from one of the huts to find out why. 'Good afternoon.' said John, 'We are heading to the Dawson crossing. Can you tell me how far it is?'

'Oh it's quite a way yet, about thirty miles, so you won't be getting there today.' The man walked to the wagon.

John got down from his seat and they shook hands. 'I'm John Tregilgus and this is my wife Kezia and daughter Ruth. We hope to start a farm at the crossing.'

Kezia and Ruth slowly climbed down, tired after weeks of almost non-stop travelling.

'How do you do Madam.' replied the man, addressing Kezia. 'I'm Robert Watson. I've just taken up this lease here at Juandah station. The country around the crossing is used for grazing by Taroom Station where I have recently come from. Mr. Yaldwyn leases it now. We were informed some time ago that the land at the crossing is to be sold off for farming. It should be good country for farming there, and having local produce would save us bringing so many supplies from the south. There is already a general store next to the crossing and it's been a good camping ground for teamsters and travellers for years.'

'That sounds promising then.' said John. 'I hope to find a good block before the rush starts.'

'Just watch out for the flood areas.' said Watson. 'The river looks harmless now, but after big rains it can be a monster. You need to be careful travelling around here too. The blacks have killed a lot of people in the last ten years. They seem only to pick off lone individuals, and shepherds have been a prime target. One of our shepherds here at Juandah was killed last year, and our sheep are regularly stolen.'

John listened intently, and yet he had seen no sign of blacks anywhere along the route they had taken so far. He said so to Roberts.

'Don't be fooled. They move around a lot, and can turn up anywhere without warning. They don't usually attack at night but dawn and dusk seem to be the most dangerous times.'

John looked around to see if Ruth had heard this warning, but she had already befriended the dog, and wasn't paying attention.

'You can stay here tonight if you like.' said Watson. There is a bed in that hut over there, and we have plenty of water in the tank. The creek out the back is running at the moment, and the dog will warn us if anyone approaches. It will be safer than camping out along the track.'

Kezia felt uneasy for the first time. These stories of hostile blacks were becoming more ominous as they got closer to the Dawson, and she hoped they wouldn't come across any of them. Anyway she needed a good break from travelling to clean up, wash some clothes and generally take stock of their provisions. 'Thank you Mr. Watson, it's been a long journey from Brisbane.' she said.

# Chapter 22

# The Dawson

They stayed at Juandah for two days to rest, and bought some maize to feed the horses. The grass they'd been eating for the last few weeks just wasn't enough to sustain their heavy workload, even with the extra supplements John had brought with them. Then, feeling cleaner and better organised than she had for some time, Kezia packed up their camp as John bade farewell to Mr. Watson. They started out by nine o'clock, and hoped to reach the Dawson by nightfall. Watson had assured them that the track was in reasonable condition, and although the creek crossings would slow them down, they should have no trouble getting there before dark.

John and Kezia knew they were getting close to their destination when they sighted large tracts of open grassland dotted with trees that seemed to have been planted in an orderly manner, giving the park-like effect exactly as described by Leichhardt. A line of trees running through lower land a mile to the west indicated a watercourse, and a range of hills running north-south about 10 miles further west were already in shadow as the sun started to set. They rounded the base of a prominent hill that sloped down to the river, and came upon a large open area with clusters of tents, wagons and many hobbled horses grazing on the grassy slopes. There were a number of men sitting around their tents, some with fires already stoked up to cook their evening meal. A partly completed slab hut stood in the middle of the area, with a stack of sawn timber nearby.

'This is the place Kez. We'll set up camp for the night, and look for a farm tomorrow.'

Kezia was happier than she could remember. The country looked beautiful, there seemed to be no shortage of water, and although she hadn't had a good look at the soil, she could see her farm taking shape already.

They were greeted by strangers as they passed, but Kezia became aware that there were only a couple of women that she could see. Most of the men seemed to be teamsters, with one or two travellers like themselves. Ruth wandered off to explore the area while John started unpacking the wagon. As he did so, a man approached. He seemed a little older than John and too well dressed to be a teamster. His full beard covered his collar and looked somewhat unkempt. But then so did John's.

'Hello there. I'm Martin Zerbe. I own the general store over there.' he said, indicating a large canvas-covered pile of boxes and tins. 'Welcome to our town.' He smiled as he saw John's surprised expression at this ramshackle group of tents being called a town. 'Well it will be a town one day. We call it Bonner's Nob after that hill you would have seen as you drove in. Where are you headed?'

'I hope to stay here and start a farm.' said John.

'Is that so?' Now it was Zerbe's turn to be surprised. 'Wonderful. I need people to stay here permanently to get this town going.' He held out a hand, and John shook it.

'I'm John Tregilgus and this is my wife Kezia. Ruth is already off somewhere.'

'She'll be all right, these fellows are safe enough.' replied Zerbe. 'You are the first ones I've met who aren't going on to Rockhampton or other places further out.'

'We are going to look for a suitable area to farm tomorrow. Do you have any suggestions about where we might find good land?' asked John.

Zerbe thought for a moment. 'The river here never dries up, and although it's only ten yards wide and a foot deep at the ford now, I'm told it can rise twenty feet and become four hundred yards wide around here after heavy rain. It seems you'll always have water, but you need to be well above the flood level. When you've set up your camp, come over to my house and meet my wife.' He pointed to a smaller canvas shelter next to the store. 'We can talk more about it then.'

Later that evening as John and Kezia sat on upturned boxes outside Martin and Catherine Zerbe's tent, and Ruth poked at the fire with a long stick, they compared their stories and plans for the future. Zerbe intended staying here to begin a permanent settlement. John and Kezia told of their arrival in Brisbane by ship, but avoided any mention of Van Diemen's Land, leaving the Zerbes with the impression they'd immigrated to Australia from England via New Zealand. Kezia related her upbringing on a farm and her desire to start one here. The four of them found that they had a lot in common and the beginning of a friendship commenced that night.

During the next few days Kezia and John looked at the land that had been designated for subdivision into farms. They walked about a mile east of the settlement where the ground was high above the river level, but was well drained by what looked like permanent creeks. It was all grazing land at that stage, and the exact boundaries would have to wait for the surveyor to complete his work. Mr Permein worked for the Government Survey Department and had done some of the Darling Downs survey work. He was now doing the Dawson area and from there he intended working north and east to Rockhampton. The Tregilguses ran across him as they were wandering around and introduced themselves. Kezia asked where the boundaries were going to be. He showed her on his map how the blocks were situated and she was able to select an area of ten acres that was both nearly level and had a good creek running through it. It was the prime block in the area, and she was going to set up house there and buy it whenever the auction was held. Mr. Permein expected that it would be another six months by the time he got to Rockhampton and the survey was finalised, then the Government had to organise and advertise the auction. Maybe a year away yet.

John moved their camp to the spot they selected, and started to make a permanent home. He didn't know much about farming, but Kezia assured him she could tell him exactly how to do it. They wouldn't legally own the land yet, but when it came up for sale they expected to be able to buy it without any fuss. They still hadn't seen any blacks, and had heard no reports of trouble from anyone else. Perhaps it was not as bad as people made out.

Over the next weeks, John used the horses to plough the ground and get it ready to sow the wheat and corn seeds that they had brought with them. It was hard work in the summer heat, and when he wasn't ploughing, he was off looking for timber to build a house. Kezia set up the domestic facilities and tried to make their home as liveable as possible given the total absence of any normal home comforts. Zerbe maintained a stock of basic needs like flour, sugar and canned goods, but anything unusual had to be ordered from Ipswich and took several weeks to arrive.

One day Martin Zerbe came to see them. 'John, a team of sawyers has arrived down at the town looking for work. I'm going to commission them to cut enough timber to build a proper store and house. Do you want to have them cut some for you as well?'

John was only too pleased to have someone find and fell suitable trees, and then saw them into planks for him. The sawyers could look at a tree and tell immediately whether it could be cut easily into straight boards, saving a lot of work. They were hired and the first steps were taken to establish a permanent town. By early 1856 there were more settlers living in permanent camps at the crossing, and others taking up farms also waiting for the auction. A few months later a blacksmith and a saddler arrived, adding their buildings to the settlement, and their wives and children to the population. By now all the useable land surrounding the settlement from 20 miles to the west, all the way to the coast at Rockhampton, and north to another fledgling town of Springsure was taken up with sheep stations.

Martin Zerbe was determined to make this town grow, and had applied for a post office to be established. That would put the place officially on the map. His application was successful and in March of 1856 he was appointed Post Master, the town being named Taroom after the station on which it was situated. In June, the Leichhardt District was officially proclaimed. It covered some 40,000 square miles from the Upper Dawson all the way through the land drained by the Dawson, until it ran into the MacKenzie and Fitzroy rivers near Rockhampton, and yet the total population was just 264 males and 64 females, about 80 of that total being Chinese and other miscellaneous nationalities. Around Taroom alone it was estimated that there were over 100,000 sheep. Wages for laborers were about 14 shillings a week plus rations. A regular mail service was operating between Taroom and several towns up to 100 miles distant, linking in to the runs going on to Rockhampton or to Ipswich and Brisbane. Mail runs were contracted out by the Post Office, and mailmen could ride their allotted route both ways within about a week, barring delays caused by occasional flooded creeks, so the mail services were good.

News of the new settlement was reported in the Sydney Morning Herald and attracted more people, and as the surveyor had predicted, the land auction was held in September of 1856. John bought 40 acres of farm land for one pound an acre. It was more than they were currently cultivating, but they anticipated that land prices would rise and they could sell off some of it later, at a nice profit. The purchase just about emptied their savings account at the time, but since then it had been a good year, and the sale of their first crops had more than covered costs. Fresh food was always in short supply and premium prices were paid for it locally, with any excess being transported to Ipswich or Rockhampton. They had built a reasonable one bedroom slab house with iron bark shingles on the roof, and they were as comfortable as anyone in the district. The weather was good, rainfall had been ample without excess, and the farm was generally going well.

In April of 1857 Ruth turned twelve, and Kezia was setting aside some time each day for school work, and was also starting to teach her to sew. Kezia could still remember her talk with her own mother when she was twelve, but Ruth hadn't expressed any desire to improve her life, seeming to be content with it as it was. Ruth wasn't as robust as she might have been, often suffering coughs and colds, but she seemed happy. Kezia wondered whether her disease might have had some effect on Ruth after all, but there were no other signs, so she didn't dwell on it too much. There were a few other girls around Ruth's age in the town, and several births had taken place with more to follow soon. Kezia had already put Dr. Maddox's unofficial midwifery training into effect, and was now on call to attend all the births in the town and nearby stations.

The Tregilguses were acquainted with all the families within 30 miles of Taroom, among them Mrs. Frazer who was a widow with four daughters and several sons. She owned a station about 10 miles west of Taroom employing several shepherds and a couple of blacks. News had circulated recently that another seven shepherds had been killed by blacks at various places, and then a woman working at Juandah was killed as well. Kezia started to become anxious about living out of town, and they bought two dogs to guard the place at night.

The Native Police were working hard to protect settlers, but were criticised by everyone, some saying they didn't try hard enough, while others accused them of being too harsh with the blacks. Commander Morriset requested more men, and advertisements were placed in newspapers throughout Australia. There were many clashes between the mounted police and the Jiman tribe who were probably the most aggressive tribe in the country. Kezia had seen some blacks at times as they worked for the squatters, and she was afraid of them. She had read stories about head hunters and cannibals in England, and these black people looked just like the ones described in the books.

In October of 1857 John and Kezia were working in the field when a horseman galloped up to their farm. He didn't dismount but rode right up to them.

'Have you heard? The Frazers have been murdered at Hornet Bank Station.'

Kezia dropped the hoe she was holding. 'Which one of them?' she asked, feeling suddenly sick.

'All of them except young West, and he's badly hurt. The blacks killed them all.' he repeated, apparently in a state of shock himself. 'All the shepherds as well. Thirteen people I was told. You'd better make sure you keep a good lookout, and keep a weapon handy. Even then, if a mob of them turn up, you won't have a chance. Commander Morriset is organising a troop including settlers to hunt them down.'

As they stood there in shock, looking up at him, the rider wheeled his horse and raced off to spread the warning. This news hit Kezia hard. She had been to Hornet Bank several times, and the blacks working there had appeared friendly. She felt decidedly unsafe now.

'John I think we should leave here. There is more good land near Rockhampton. Don't you think we'd be better off somewhere closer to civilisation?'

John was thoughtful. 'Maybe you're right, but we'll have to find someone to buy this place first.'

'Well let's advertise anyway.' she said.

'Look Kezia, we've made a lot of friends here, and the town has grown so much since we arrived. What would you say to building a hotel? That way we can live in the settlement, and still stay near our friends.' John expected a negative response.

'I don't know, perhaps that would be better. We aren't getting any younger and farming is hard work in this heat.' Kezia replied.

John was on full alert now with the prospect of running a hotel. 'We can sell off our spare land and start building the hotel. It will take a few months to build, and then we can sell the rest of the farm. We needn't even apply for a license straight away. It will take the Licensing Board ages to know we're there.'

Kezia thought for a minute. 'A hotel would be profitable out here, the nearest one is nearly a hundred miles away, and there is a lot of traffic passing through. I suppose if we don't do it someone else will. Alright then, I'll feel a lot safer in town.'

John was beside himself. He didn't sleep well at all that night, between thinking about the hotel and keeping an ear cocked for strange noises outside.

# Chapter 23

# The Leichhardt

The sawyer's camp had become permanent now, with a large saw-pit constructed to cut up the logs. Long double-ended saws with huge mean-looking teeth were used to cut the logs lengthwise, with the sawyer on top of the log, and his underdog in the pit beneath, spending his working day covered in sawdust. The town also boasted a resident carpenter, with houses and sheds being built at a great rate. Other builders arrived from the south to get some of the action, and it wasn't long before John's hotel was started. John selected an area on the unofficial main street running parallel to the river course, in the lower part of the settlement. He didn't own the land, but in frontier settlements, some buildings always preceded the official surveys, and occupiers were later able to buy their land at auction.

The hotel was to be a single story building on low stumps raising the floor about three feet above ground level, with a verandah and bar fronting the street, and rooms at the back overlooking the river. They called it the 'Leichhardt Hotel' in honour of the explorer. It was a no frills establishment with rooms for rent as prescribed by the Licensing laws. The laws also required that stables and feed be available for travellers' horses, but John wasn't planning to cater for travellers' accommodation, intending to make his profits over the bar. Kezia wasn't keen to live in the hotel, so they built another house beside it. As the hotel neared completion the farm was sold at a tidy profit, and they moved into town in March of 1858. Horses were always in demand, and heavy draught horses were worth their weight in gold. They sold their horses for 30 pounds each, and made another 10 for the wagon. They had to buy another smaller sulky to travel about in, and then spent 20 pounds on a horse to pull it, but when the hotel opened, they still had money in the bank.

Rum was the preferred drink since it was easy to store and could be consumed at any temperature. It had the added attraction for hoteliers that it could be made on the premises, providing no one at the Licensing Board found out. John and Kezia simply bought wagonloads of molasses, took water from the river and distilled as much as they wanted, mixing it with the real thing so that it tasted reasonable. At a shilling a nobbler they were making 10 pence clear profit on every drink sold, and being the only hotel in town they were selling a lot of drinks. Even Kezia agreed that this was far better than farming. She had more money in the bank than she ever dreamed of back in England, and although living conditions were far below those even in the servant's quarters at the Manor, she felt in control of her life. Then it got even better.

In August, word spread that gold had been discovered at Canoona near Rockhampton, and within weeks the flow of people on the main road to the diggings multiplied a hundred fold. Sales went through the roof and John was forced to take the risk and make more rum himself, to keep up with demand. Their unfettered trade was soon to end though, as Taroom's population continued to grow and businesses became established. Disputes inevitably arose over contracts, and non-payment of wages, and the Government decided to establish a Court. Two Magistrates and several Justices of the Peace were appointed to deal with the disputes, and to process license applications for all sorts of businesses. Apart from liquor, licenses were required for billiards, for timber cutting, slaughtering, and hawking. John knew his freewheeling hotel would soon be caught in the legal system, so in December he decided to apply for a license. It was refused on the grounds there were insufficient rooms and no stables, but it didn't take long to get those built, and his next application was successful, so they were officially in the hotel business. His home-made rum had to be cut back though, as tax collectors kept an eye on rum sold versus excise paid. One additional law also impacted on them now. Trading had to cease at 6pm. Profits dropped substantially, but they were still doing well.

The mail contractor for the Taroom to Condamine run was a 21 year old Englishman named Thomas Eyles. He had arrived in Moreton Bay in the ship 'Parsee' in 1857 with more than 300 other immigrants, and worked his way out to the frontier towns. He became friendly with the Tregilguses, and often helped John with odd jobs around the hotel. The mail contract was worth 150 pounds for the year, but when it ran out, he decided not to re-apply. Bushrangers were robbing the mails with increasing frequency, and although they hadn't killed anyone, mail riding was becoming a dangerous occupation. Tom now spent more time working around the hotel.

The Leichhardt continued to do very well over the following year, and the license fee of 22 pounds 10 shillings, more than six months wages for the average man, was hardly noticed. Even when the Canoona gold rush was found to be less payable than first thought, and traffic on the road slowed down, there was still plenty of passing trade to keep the coffers full. A determined hunt by police and citizens had caught and killed most of the blacks involved in the Hornet Bank murders, and the area was now considered safe.

There were a lot of unusual characters passing through, most of them calling at the hotel that had become the centre for local gossip, and Kezia suspected more than a few to be ex-convicts. There was something about their manner that others who had been through similar experiences could recognise. There was another sort too. Rough types who she suspected should have been convicts, but had somehow not yet been caught. There were always fights about to breakout, and John was kept busy either stopping them, or getting the protagonists out into the street where they could do no damage except to each other. His former nickname had been lost in the move from Hobart, but he still knew how to win a fight.

Kezia herself, despite her small stature was able to keep control of her rowdy patrons by speaking forcefully to them in the sort of language she'd learned during her time in gaol. Newcomers were surprised at her command of such language, but they soon got used to it, and she became one of the well-known characters of the town.

In 1859 Queensland separated from New South Wales, and it became an excuse for all sorts of celebrations. A race meeting was planned for the town, and John successfully applied for a special licence to sell liquor at the track. Martin Zerbe was still Post Master, auctioneer and successful businessman. A lockup was built and the first permanent policemen arrived in town. The new Government even appointed a Registrar of births deaths and marriages. The frontier style of the town was already starting to change, but the Leichhardt was still the only pub in town and was doing a roaring trade. John tried to have his license extended to trade at night but it was refused. That was a setback, but since they had a monopoly, all the drinkers would crowd into the bar after work, and add to John and Kezia's wealth each day.

One day during a quiet period just before dinner time, Kezia was tidying up in the bar when a small wagon pulled up outside. Kezia could see a man and a woman on the wagon, and apart from the horse in front, there was another very good looking black horse tethered to the back of the wagon. The man came into the bar, and seeing Kezia said, 'Good day madam, I wonder if you have a room available for myself and my wife for a few days. We've come quite a way and need some rest for ourselves and the horses.'

Kezia was struck by the man's manner which was polite, yet with an underlying air of authority. He was perhaps 30 years old, although it was hard to tell as his full dark beard hid most of his features. He was much taller than Kezia at around 5 feet 9 inches, and strongly built. He seemed to be used to having his own way, and yet she didn't feel intimidated.

'Certainly Sir.' she replied. 'We have rooms at the back, and a stable and feed for your horses. There is room for the wagon in the yard as well. Follow me and I'll show you.'

After the man had looked at the room, he led his horse and wagon into the yard and the woman climbed down. Kezia watched them unload some of their belongings. The black horse was a striking animal, and clearly not bred to pull a wagon. John came out too, and when a moment presented itself, he went across to the man and introduced himself.

'Good day sir, I'm John Tregilgus, proprietor of this hotel.' He held out his hand.

'How do you do Mr. Tregilgus, I'm Francis Christie, late of New South Wales, travelling north to Apis Creek.' They shook hands.

Apis Creek was a settlement on the road from Rockhampton northwest to Peak Downs.

'Oh, your going prospecting are you?' asked John.

'No, a friend of mine, Mr. Craig owns the hotel there and I'm going into partnership with him.'

John was interested. This man didn't seem the type to run a hotel, but then who could say? But before he could ask any more Christie said, 'I'll clean up and talk to you later.'

John took the hint and left him alone.

Back inside, John and Kezia discussed their boarder, and both agreed that he was an unusual character, and then there was that horse. Where would you get a thoroughbred like that? Still, as long as he paid the bill, it was none of their business.

The usual afternoon crowd started building up and the hotel was packed until closing time, so they didn't see Christie again until the next day. He came into the bar and ordered a rum. Kezia served him, and decided to try to find out more about him.

'You've come from New South Wales Mr. Christie?' she left the question open to give him an opportunity to volunteer information.

'Yes, I worked there for some time, but it's not safe these days with all the bushrangers robbing people, and the police unable to catch them.'

Kezia had read the reports in the papers about gangs of desperados roaming the country bailing up gold escorts, mail coaches and individuals unlucky enough to be found on lonely roads. It was said that Ben Hall had taken over Frank Gardiner's gang when that celebrated individual had left it after shooting and wounding two policemen who tried to arrest him.

She said, 'We don't have that problem here so much, but with the diggings at Peak Downs it's a long way to carry gold to Rockhampton. I suppose that would be the likely place bushrangers would operate.' She was starting to wonder if this man had something more than running a hotel in mind.

Seeing the suspicious look on her face, he laughed. 'Ah, no need to worry about me madam, I'm only interested in the hotel business now.' He stopped short. Had she heard that slip?

She had, and realised there was more to this man than met the eye, but decided to trust him. 'Well Mr. Christie, we all have past lives don't we? We do things when we're young that we regret later, but it shouldn't stop us from being able to lead a law abiding life if we decide that is a better course.'

He was relieved that even though she suspected he wasn't who he claimed to be, she would not report it to the police. He looked at her more carefully. She was still short and solidly built, but continuous hard physical work ensured she carried no fat. The hazel eyes still sparkled, her fair hair was now wavy after being cut short for those years, and there was a toughness about her that he also recognised.

'You seem to understand me Mrs. Tregilgus.'

'No need to fear, I will say nothing to anyone, but that black horse will always draw attention to you.'

'He was given to me by a man in Victoria as a gift. I know he will draw attention, but I cannot part with him.'

Kezia wondered if the Victorian man had wanted to part with him either.

'I think it's a mistake to keep him.' she said. 'A thoroughbred even in an area as remote as Apis Creek will become general knowledge all the way to Rockhampton. You should be careful.'

'Thank you Mrs. Tregilgus, I am finished with my past life, as apparently are you, if I'm not mistaken.'

She wondered who this man really was, but it would be improper to ask. She smiled and nodded. 'You will find that running a hotel is much more profitable in the long run.'

They didn't pursue their conversation any further, but each knew that they could trust the other. Two days later Christie and his young wife, who had never been introduced, packed up, paid their bills and set off without any fuss. Kezia decided not to tell John about the conversation, seeing no need to endanger Christie's apparent desire to fade into the background.

Business continued as usual at the Leichhardt, and one day Kezia took stock of her assets. She realised she had more money than she had ever dreamed of. They owned the hotel, plus four more town blocks and had the equivalent of four years wages in the bank. If she had known 20 years ago that this sort of money could be made more or less honestly, she could have saved herself a lot of grief. That thought also prompted her to think of her own personal situation. She had read everything that she could find about medical advances, hoping her particular affliction would be mentioned in connection with some new treatment, but nothing had appeared.

Nominations were called early in 1860 for two representatives for the Leichhardt District to the first Queensland Parliament. A very well-attended public meeting conducted by William Yaldwyn commenced in Taroom at midday on the 4th of May to select two candidates. Following that meeting the participants moved to the Leichhardt Hotel to 'partake of an excellent dinner'. Kezia already knew that this would be the last major function they would host as licensees of this hotel. They were being forced to sell the licence, and the first advertisement was already appearing in the Moreton Bay Courier newspaper in Brisbane.

John had never been friendly with Morris Heilborne, and wondered for some time how he was able to buy so many town blocks. At least Zerbe was an established businessman with shops and the post office, while Yaldwyn was a well known property owner. Heilborne had let it be known that he wanted to start a hotel, but John knew he didn't have enough money to build one. John suspected that whatever money Heilborne had was from something shady. Then a drunk in the bar one day let slip that he had bought rum from Heilborne on several occasions. That was enough for John. Competition was unwelcome, and illegal competition was intolerable. It needed to be redressed. Then John made a mistake that would end his short career as a publican. Instead of simply reporting the matter to the police, he confronted Heilborne in the street and accused him of selling illegal grog. Heilborne reacted predictably, and the fight was well underway when Constable Conroy arrived on the scene.

Conroy was intensely disliked by most people in town who regarded him as being overly officious. He arrested people for trifling matters, and his presence around town increased anxiety among the townspeople in case he found some insignificant infraction that he might arrest them for. His attitude may have been influenced by an incident in December of 1859 when his orphaned niece Alice who was living with Conroy and his wife was carried off and assaulted by a stranger. Conroy caught the man, who was later convicted and sentenced to six months in the Brisbane gaol.

Conroy broke up the fight, arrested both men for disturbing the peace, and locked them up while he investigated the incident. He set bail at an exorbitant amount for both men and they spent a day in gaol before they appeared in Court. John was convicted and fined one pound. But the conviction also disqualified him from holding a hotel licence. Heilborne was fined 30 pounds for selling illicit grog. Kezia was distraught at having their livelihood taken away, and the opinion she had formed about the injustice of the British legal system was automatically transferred to Australia.

They discussed what they could do now, and found that they could still own the building as long as the licence was held by a 'fit and proper' person. They advertised the business in the Moreton Bay Courier on the 1st of May 1860.

To Publicans and Others.

The good-will, furniture, and fittings of the 'Leichhardt Hotel', situated on the Dawson River, and which is doing a good business, are to be disposed of. The stock-in-trade to be taken at a valuation.

Application to be made to Mr. L W Roche, Dalby, or on the premises.

They soon sold the licence to John Range who leased the building for a reasonable fee, but then John negotiated a deal to keep working there. So the Tregilguses owned the building and still ran the hotel from day to day but with Range as the Licensee. They now worked for wages until they could decide what to do next. Soon after that, Martin Zerbe started building a hotel on the opposite street corner and applied for a license for his premises, to be called the Taroom Hotel. The hotel business was getting crowded in this town.

Heilborne wasn't finished with John though, and started spreading rumours that Tregilgus was a former convict who was still carrying on illegal activities. Despite John's denials, the story persisted and it wasn't long before someone passing through town remembered him being charged in Hobart, and the stories gathered momentum. In August it was reported that former Victoria Police Superintendent Robert Bourke and surveyor William Wills had left Melbourne leading a large expedition of exploration to the Gulf of Carpentaria.

Rumours persisted for months about John's origins and in an effort to prevent his reputation being permanently sullied and possibly ruining future business opportunities, he did everything possible to improve his image. He enlisted the help of an acquaintance named Henry Wood, who took out an advertisement in the Moreton Bay Courier on the 8th of December 1860.

SIR,-Being a working man, I am in the habit of rambling a good deal of this country over, and in one of these rambles I happened to stroll by a place called Tarome, or Bonner's Nob township. As all public-houses are the resort of the working class of people in general, when they want to spend an evening, or day or two, and as some people give this hotel a good name, and that one a bad name. I wish the public at large to understand I have the pleasure to acquaint them that both me and the parties that were with me received the greatest kindness and attention from the proprietor of the Leichhardt Hotel at Tarome township, and as for the culinary department, it was very good. All parties that are proceeding out to the Comet, or that call by there will receive the greatest kindness and attention from him. Many thanks to you, Mr. Tregilgus, of the Leichhardt Hotel, for the attention you show to the working class of people.

I remain, yours respectfully,

Henry Wood and parties.

Either by coincidence or by design, another advertisement appeared in the same paper, and then again on four successive Saturdays in December of 1860.

'SIR: - I wish to mention to the public at large how I came to this country. I came in the 'Favourite' sloop of war, and was a second class boy, when Captain Croker lost his life at Tongataboo. I was married in Van Diemen's Land to one Sophia Kezia Grantham, which was a servant of Parson Thompson's and was married in the Wesleyan Chapel in Hobart Town, by Mr Manton; and if anyone can say that I am a thief and a robber, and the worst character on the Dawson let them prove it, and not say the government will take such a case in hand. John Tregilgus'

The advertisement worked, and since everyone knew of the Tongatapu incident, John became a minor celebrity, retelling the story at every opportunity.

During 1860 a surveyor arrived to officially mark out the town. Once formal boundaries were registered an auction would be held. Since streets had already been established by the settlers in a layout convenient to their needs and regular movements, the surveyor was restricted in his planning by the buildings already erected, but he completed his work, marking out about 100 building blocks, and street boundaries. The resulting layout didn't impress the editor of the North Australian Newspaper at Ipswich who although commenting favourably on the future of the town described the survey thus:

'.....Taroom was surveyed and laid out as a town, but in the most extraordinary manner it would puzzle the best surveyors in the Colony to account for. The most sublime indifference has been manifested in the laying out of the streets and the selection of the site for a bridge over the river........'

The residents were happy though, and waited impatiently for the land sale to be held. John and Kezia intended buying the three blocks that their hotel straddled, and decided to buy some additional blocks in anticipation of rising prices later. They were not the only ones to foresee potential profits either. When the auction was held in June of 1861, Martin Zerbe, Morris Heilborne, and William Yaldwyn between them bought nearly half the town blocks.

Yaldwyn was somewhat famous in early Australia, having significant land and property holdings in Victoria. He had been one of the earliest squatters there, and then went back to England to facilitate the transport of the first of the Convict Exiles from England to Melbourne in 1844, where they were pardoned upon arrival. That policy of landing felons in the otherwise free settlement of Melbourne was widely condemned, but continued for five years before it was stopped. After moving to Queensland and taking up Taroom Station, Yaldwyn was influential in the district, and eventually became a Member of the Queensland Legislative Council.

The whole permanent population of Taroom now amounted to 44 males and 19 females, with many being children. John bought the three blocks his hotel occupied, at the corner of Dawson Road and Yaldwyn Street, and four more on the other side of Yaldwyn Street, which under the new survey came to a dead end between John's blocks, at the flood level of the river bank. Then, as if to ensure the continuing prosperity of the pub, news arrived that gold had been discovered at Peak Downs north of Springsure. As before, Taroom was on the main road from the south to the diggings, and traffic increased again.

By early 1861 both Heilborne and Tregilgus had learned to live with each other, and their mutual dislike was then aimed at Constable Conroy. In May, along with many other townspeople they attended a meeting at the Leichhardt to raise a petition to be presented to the local Magistrates to have Conroy removed. The petition was eventually signed by the majority of residents, and duly presented, but no action was taken. So on the 13th of June another meeting was convened to have the petition forwarded to the Colonial Secretary. The three main motions forming the petition were proposed and seconded by C. Ellis, M. Heilborne and J. Tregilgus. Once again nothing happened, and Conroy stayed in Taroom. It didn't matter to the Tregilguses though, because by then they were planning to move on.

John now had a taste of what it was like to be on the wrong end of a dishonest transaction. Back in October of 1860 he had forwarded payment for stock that had arrived for the Leichhardt to the supplier's agent. The agent was the somewhat notorious John Bourke Esq., a solicitor who had been suspected of dishonest dealings before. John had paid him 51 pounds 16 shillings, which had never been passed on to the creditor Peter Petersea. A hearing was held in Maryborough in June of 1861 where Bourke was committed for trial for embezzlement of that and other monies. John had had to spend some time proving that he had paid Bourke.

During his enforced withdrawal from the hotel John took the opportunity to explore the country further north, and followed the track 150 miles to Springsure. Grazing land had recently been surveyed in that area and Tenders had been called to lease these new runs. On the way he crossed the Brown River on Planet Downs station where there was an established teamster camp site. Talking to the men camped there he quickly discovered that this little river could become a raging torrent after rain, and people could be stranded there for weeks. John immediately saw the potential to repeat the success of the Leichhardt hotel.

He looked at the surrounding land and decided that he should lease one of the new runs as an investment. All his previous purchases had returned nice profits, and he expected to be able to sell the lease at some time in the future. The blocks were a minimum of 25 square miles each, and a fee of 12 pounds 10 shillings per year seemed a reasonable rate. He submitted his bid for the Lot called 'Dunrobin Creek Number 1' near the Brown River. He didn't intend developing it, but knew that once the land was all sold, he could sell his lease to someone for a profit.

Arriving back home a week later he found Kezia and Ruth sitting on the little verandah at the front of their house. He rode up to the steps and dismounted, then excitedly began to tell Kezia of his plan.

'Kez, I found the perfect place for another hotel up near Springsure. There is nothing but a camp site there at the moment. It's about 30 miles from Springsure, and a natural stopping place for travellers. We can build a pub and run it until we have to apply for a licence, and then make you the licensee. I've put in a bid for a run there too. If I get that I'll sell it as soon as the prices go up.

Kezia waited until he'd finished, and then said, 'Before you go on, Ruth has something to ask you.'

Ruth hesitated briefly, and then said, 'Dad, Tom and I want to get married.' She had always assumed John was her father.

John stopped in his tracks. 'What? How old are you?' he asked, caught completely off guard.

'I'm sixteen.' she replied indignantly.

He looked at her carefully. She did look more grown up than he had thought. Why hadn't he noticed it before, he wondered. He looked at Kezia. 'Are you happy with this?'

'Yes, Tom is a nice young man and they have known each other for five years now. I think Ruth knows what she's doing.'

John thought for a moment, and then asked Ruth, 'What is Tom going to do after you get married? I suppose he could go after the mail contract again.'

'No, we want to go in to business like you. That seems to be the best way to make money here.'

'Mmm. You won't make any money running a hotel here, it's already too crowded. You need to start some business that has no competitors, at least until you get established. Your mother has taught you how to make hats, so I suppose you could become a milliner, although you won't get rich doing that here.' Then the obvious solution dawned on him. 'You know, there's no general store at the Brown River. We could build a pub and a store, and have a complete monopoly there. Bring Tom around tonight and we'll discuss it.'

Ruth smiled. 'So we are getting married then are we?'

'I suppose so.' said John.

There was nothing unusual about Ruth getting married at that age. Girls were considered ready for marriage from 16, and only needed their parents' permission.

A few weeks later the list of successful Tenders for land was released, and John found himself the lessee of 25 square miles of grazing country. The Tregilgus' social status was increasing.

Preparations for the wedding were well underway when word was received that the Wills family had been killed by blacks on their station west of Springsure. Cullin La Ringo was a new station with few permanent buildings. It carried 10,000 sheep, and although the blacks were numerous in the area there had been no trouble. On the morning of the attack, the 17th of October 1861, about 60 blacks were at the station, and around dinner time they departed apparently on friendly terms with everyone. But later that afternoon they returned and without warning murdered and mutilated every man woman and child at the station camp. Nineteen in all. One man hid among a flock of sheep and witnessed the attack, later escaping to raise the alarm. Memories of the Frazer murders were revived, and the frightened population reacted immediately. Within two weeks the blacks were found, still carrying the clothing and even books looted from the station and most were killed on the spot.

Kezia's distrust of blacks reached a new high and she had doubts about moving to the Brown River. It was 100 miles closer to this incident, but John convinced her that there would be no more trouble now that this tribe was wiped out, since the remaining ones had shown no hostility towards the settlers. Kezia had doubts, but decided to go along with the original plan.

The wedding was delayed while many of the settlers were chasing the blacks, but finally took place in Taroom on the 14th of November 1861. Ruth was then sixteen and a half, and Tom was twenty three.

The next few weeks were taken up with deciding what they would need to take with them to the Brown River, and soon Christmas arrived. It was celebrated heartily by all the settlers in Taroom, and Kezia couldn't remember a better Christmas in her life. They had lived there for more than six years now, and knew everyone in town.

By the first week of February everything was ready, and even the dull overcast weather didn't dampen their spirits as the Tregilgus and Eyles families boarded their heavily loaded wagons. Most of the townspeople turned out to farewell them, and they set off for the Brown River crossing, carrying with them everything they would need to set up a permanent camp and then start building the pub and store.

# Chapter 24

# The Planet

John and Kezia still owned the Leichhardt hotel and additional land, and intended keeping it for the foreseeable future, unless they needed money for some reason. This new venture wouldn't cost much since they were planning on doing the work themselves. It began to rain in March, and continued almost without a break for two weeks, causing the Brown River to flood, stranding teamsters at the crossing. This was a bonus for John, and he employed them on some of the heavier work and paid them with credit for drinks at the hotel. Finding suitable trees nearby to cut into slabs was more difficult than they had expected, and hauling logs over the water logged tracks wasn't what John wanted to do. So the hotel was smaller than he had planned, but it was good enough. Kezia and Ruth helped with the lighter work, until Ruth realised she was pregnant.

The hotel followed the design of the Leichhardt. The sloping ground was levelled and logs were laid as the foundation. It was close to the river, but above the flood level as demonstrated by the recent rains. Carting water for distilling rum was a consideration in the location of the pub as close as possible to the river. The slab boards were roughly trimmed, the inevitable gaps were filled with clay, and they brought roof shingles from Taroom when the track dried out. The store was built next door, and when construction was well under way, John and Tom ordered supplies from Rockhampton to stock their businesses. Teamsters carried goods between Springsure and Rockhampton for 40 pounds per ton, so although the land cost nothing, and the buildings nearly the same, importing stock was expensive.

Since it was well known in Taroom that this pub was being built, and Conroy had now been promoted to Sub-Inspector, the Tregilguses had no option but to apply for a licence, naming it the Planet Inn. John applied for the licence and to his surprise it was granted, to commence from the 1st of July 1862.

They didn't wait for the official opening date, and as soon as the building work was finished, and the shop and bar were fully stocked, they held a party. The celebrations were the biggest event ever seen in the district. Teamsters who had helped with construction were there to cash in their rum credits, station workers came to see what this new town was about, and many friends including the Zerbes came from Taroom to the grand opening. The party lasted two days, with music supplied courtesy of an old man with a fiddle, who played his limited repertoire repeatedly until his alcohol affected reflexes caused more flat notes than the audience could stand. Sheep were cooked on open fires to feed the crowd. During the festivities, possible names for the town were bandied around, but after the usual disagreements it was decided in a rum-soaked fog of inspiration to call it Brown Town. The rum stocks eventually ran out, and everyone slept off their hangovers and then went back to work.

During the building of the Planet and the store, the Post Master General who was visiting country post offices had arrived in town on his way to Springsure. He spoke with John and Tom and moved on. Months later he wrote in his report that he;

'... came across a new settlement at the crossing place on the Brown River, where a very good inn was being built, and stores in course of erection, also a blacksmith shop. As this town was close to Albinia Downs owned by Hope and Rolleston, it was given the name Rolleston'.

The residents wouldn't hear about the official name for some time.

The next six months saw new settlers arriving, and the sawyers were busy cutting trees and sawing logs for building. The new town was already starting to take shape. Business was brisk at the Planet Inn, and the general store was doing well too. Ruth's pregnancy progressed without complications and she gave birth to a baby girl on the 1st of October 1862. She had already decided that the tradition of naming girls after mothers and grandmothers was old fashioned, and so she called the baby Emma. By this time all the money expended on setting up the pub had been recouped, rum was selling at 1 pound a bottle, nearly a week's wages for the average man, and they were operating in profit mode again. At this time John found a buyer for his 25 square miles of grazing land, and sold the lease to Mr. W. Collins. Within months, Collins found he could not pay the annual fee, and forfeited the land back to the Crown.

Six months later everything was going well with the Planet Inn, and profits were good. By now John was starting to drink a little too much and nothing Kezia said or did made any difference. They had some arguments from time to time, which seemed only to result in John drinking more. Then out of the blue, they each received a summons to appear in court in Rockhampton as witnesses in a case of theft of a cheque. A man named Tom Harris had been arrested for trying to cash this cheque at a Rockhampton bank, but maintained it had been given to him by John Tregilgus in payment for work done building stables behind the Planet Inn. The cheque had earlier been stolen from Planet Downs Station in March 1863 and was passed at the Planet Inn in payment for goods. Now it looked as though both of them were going to have to travel to Rockhampton to give evidence in Harris' defence.

This trip might serve a dual purpose Kezia thought, by getting John out of the pub for a while and she could also take the opportunity to see a doctor. She had been worried for some time about her illness, and the birth of a grandchild had refocussed her attention on her own mortality. She was now 40 years old and it was 17 years since she was infected. At any time now it could flare again. She decided she should try to do something about it. She hadn't seen anything in the newspapers about cures, but perhaps there were advances being made overseas that hadn't been reported. She spoke to John about it.

'John, since we have to go to Rockhampton for this trial I've been thinking that I'd like to see a doctor again about my condition. Perhaps we could both go and talk to one to see if any progress has been made towards a cure.'

John himself had wondered when this subject would arise. 'We have to go to Rockhampton, but then if there is a treatment, we might have to go on to Sydney. We could be away for months.' he replied.

'Yes, but it's been nearly seventeen years since it started, and if I don't find out if there's a treatment soon, it could be too late.'

'I can't leave Tom and Ruth to run both the store and the pub.' he said. He thought for a moment. 'I'll go to Taroom and see if I can find someone to take over the licence while we're away.'

It had been nearly seven years since they had been anywhere near a doctor. Serious illnesses in Taroom required an overland trip to either Rockhampton or Toowoomba for treatment. Luckily none of them had needed anything more than the bottled cure-all remedies sold by Martin Zerbe, and a day or two in bed to cure their ailments. Now that they had to go to Rockhampton they could see a doctor there and if necessary then sail to Brisbane or Sydney for treatment. John estimated that they should be away no more than three or four months.

With the decision made, John rode to Taroom and while there spoke to Samuel Lesser. He suggested to Lesser that he could be the licensee at Brown Town. Lesser was a wine and spirit merchant who had come to Taroom in the wave of settlers during the land sales. He had wanted to run a hotel but didn't have the money to build one, and so he eagerly accepted the offer to run the Planet Inn for John and Kezia. While they were organising that, John Ashton arranged to take over the licence for the Leichhardt from John Range from the 16th of December 1862.

John rode back to Brown Town with mixed feelings. He was sure the Planet would be a success. There was no possibility of any competition out here in the foreseeable future, and the gold diggings at Peak Downs ensured a steady flow of passing customers. The nearest towns were the small but growing settlement of Springsure about 40 miles further north, Taroom 100 miles south and Banana a similar distance to the east on the Rockhampton road. This was shaping as a very profitable location, just the sort that he had imagined back in Hobart. On the other hand there was Kezia's illness. They hadn't discussed it for years, and Ruth didn't know about it. In fact Ruth didn't know her mother had been in prison. It simply wasn't necessary to tell her.

Arriving back in Brown Town around midday John noted the absence of activity that was typical. A dog sleeping on the road didn't stir as he rode past. The teamsters already camped there slept through the afternoon in readiness to join the new arrivals who would start to trickle in during the afternoon. They would be joined later by the nearby station hands and shepherds after their working day finished, and by sundown the place would come alive. Kezia met him as he rode up to the stables behind the pub.

'Hello John, did you find someone to run the place for us?'

'Yes, Sam Lesser will be here in a few days, so we can start packing the wagon. What did you tell Ruth about our trip?'

'I just said we were going on a holiday. She seemed happy with that.'

Lesser arrived as planned, the Tregilguses packed up, and with best wishes from Tom and Ruth they set off along the road to Banana and Rockhampton in early June of 1863.

# Chapter 25

# Rockhampton

Rockhampton was the third biggest town in Queensland after Brisbane and Ipswich, and the Fitzroy River passing through it was perhaps the widest river Kezia had ever seen. The town had grown from a sheep station started by the Archer Brothers in 1853 and had been fuelled by the short lived Canoona gold rush in 1858. It now boasted many hotels and businesses of all descriptions, yet there were still only a few doctors. Doctor Callaghan had arrived from Melbourne less than a year ago, but had already established a fine reputation. The Tregilguses took a room at the Rockhampton Hotel which was the best in town, and Kezia made an appointment to see him.

She still had no outward symptoms, and Dr. Callaghan was optimistic that the next stage seemed some way off yet, but he could offer no new hope for the long term outcome. Kezia asked about new treatments.

'Mrs. Tregilgus, there are several experimental treatments being tried around the world, but the bacteria that causes this illness is very tough, and nothing we have found will kill it.'

He continued; 'It may be some consolation to you that you have escaped the worst physical manifestations of this disease, and you have been able to lead a fairly normal life. That should continue until the final stage begins.'

Kezia had heard of the physical deformities that sometimes accompanied the progress of the disease, and was thankful that she had only minor trouble with her knees. They were getting worse, but she could still walk with only a slight limp at this stage. Kezia looked dejected, but Callaghan went on.

'There was a recent article in a medical journal from America that reported promising results from a clinic in San Francisco, although they don't claim a cure. I can find out about it and we may be able to treat you here. If you come back and see me in a month, I should be able to give you an answer.

Kezia saw a ray of hope. She was prepared to try anything. 'Thankyou doctor, I'll be back.'

Back at the hotel she told John that they would have to stay a while, and since the trial was coming up as well, perhaps they should see if they could find some casual work. There was an advertisement in the Rockhampton Bulletin for a cook at James Pascoe's Cottage of Content on the corner of Lower Dawson Road and Caroline Street two blocks from William Street, which was the main thoroughfare in to town. It would be the first pub travellers from the south passed as they arrived in town and the last one as they departed for the south. At the rate the town was expanding it would soon be considered a central location.

The job came with accommodation in an adjoining house also owned by Pascoe, and when John and Kezia went to see the pub and house, they spoke with Pascoe for some time. Kezia could see that she wasn't going to be best friends with him. Pascoe was an overbearing sort of bloke who didn't take kindly to people who didn't see his point of view. But he had a perfectly positioned pub that, with a bit of imagination could be improved significantly, and she put aside her personal dislike of him to make sure she got the job. Their experience at running the Leichhardt hotel and the Planet Inn impressed Pascoe and he decided to give Kezia a try.

There was no work there for John though, so he looked further and later found some casual work with teamsters loading and unloading wagons. This was probably the worst possible job he could get. The teamsters were a rough hard working hard drinking lot, and within a very short time John was drinking even more than before.

Kezia's return visit to Dr. Callaghan a month later resulted in no new hope for a cure for syphilis, and so she resigned herself to her fate.

Kezia wanted to buy the pub from Pascoe, and he was willing to sell, but she didn't have the money. They would have to sell at least some of their property to raise the cash with enough extra to do the renovating that would bring it up to a standard as good as any small pub in town. In John's sober times she told him what she wanted to do and suggested he be the licensee. She hoped it might curb his drinking to some extent.

John thought that owning a pub was a good idea as long as he didn't have to do much himself. Kezia had shown she could handle it all herself, so he went along with the plan. His work with the teamsters often took him on short overnight trips out of town to Yaamba and that suited him perfectly. Nevertheless they had to raise the money, so he would have to make some effort.

John and Kezia made a quick trip back to Brown Town to break the news to Ruth and Tom that they were going to sell their properties and move to Rockhampton. When they arrived the first thing they found was that during their absence, the town had been renamed Rolleston after the influential owner of nearby Albinia Downs Station. Kezia was pleased to see that young Emma was in good health, and it looked as if any effect that Ruth may have suffered from Kezia's disease was not going to go any further. After catching up with the local news, they offered to sell the Planet Inn to Lesser and he readily agreed to buy it, but they could not agree on a price. Ruth and Tom's store was doing well too, and they offered to buy the spare land in Taroom as a future investment.

John decided he should pay a visit to Taroom to see how the Leichhardt was doing, with a view to selling it. The road hadn't improved in the year since John had last travelled on it, still nothing more than a dirt track with hoof prints and wheel ruts visible in the dried mud near the creek crossings, but he made it in two days without incident. Taroom had grown at a great rate since they left, and the permanent population living in the town was now about 100. A new store and a butcher shop were trading, and to John's annoyance he saw another hotel being built. More competition reduced the value of the Leichhardt, but it was still the most popular hotel in town and would fetch a good price.

Martin Zerbe was still Post Master, and his store was trading very profitably. John Ashton was still the Licensee at the Leichhardt and upon enquiring about the new hotel that was not far from completion, John found that it was to be called the Dawson Family Hotel, and its owner was none other than his old foe Morris Heilborne who was establishing himself as a reputable businessman now, and would later nominate for the Queensland Parliament. 'Probably financed it from illicit grog.' said John when he told Kezia about it.

John went to the Land Office to transfer the town blocks to Ruth, but the Agent was out of town. John decided not to wait, and left instructions with Zerbe to complete the paperwork on his behalf. Somehow there was a misunderstanding and when the agent entered the details in the register he used Ruth's maiden name, so the land records showed the owner as R. E. Tregilgus, and the error remained uncorrected for years. Ruth later leased one of her new blocks to Sam Lesser who had a wine and spirit store built on it. The Tregilgus and Eyles families were doing very well in the world of commerce.

Back at Rolleston Kezia and John decided that their best option would be to sell both the hotels and their farm by auction and they would put it in the hands of an agent when they returned to Rockhampton. On their return John immediately fell in with his drinking mates again, leaving Kezia fuming at his behaviour. She had already decided on the plan to run her own hotel. The 'Cottage' was perfect for her, but organising to sell their properties needed John's signatures and he was rarely sober, so nothing happened for a few months.

The Harris trial had been delayed but was finally held in October, and John and Kezia gave evidence for the defendant, who was later acquitted. By now they were settled in Rockhampton, and in November Kezia was appointed manager of the pub while Pascoe went off to start the coach business that he had been planning, between Rockhampton and outlying towns. Kezia then hired a new cook named Jane Bowden.

Pascoe now suggested that they lease the pub from him until they sold their properties and they agreed. John would have to be the new licensee though, and would have to apply for that licence immediately. The liquor licence should be just a formality, and so the plan was agreed, and at last John began to organise the sale at auction of their properties in Taroom and Rolleston.

The Licensing Board's next meeting was scheduled for the 12th of November, and John advertised his intention to apply in the newspaper as legally required. Anyone who objected to his application would be heard at the meeting. As it turned out the only objection was from the Chief of Police who described Tregilgus as '....a man of notoriously intemperate habits who six months earlier had been charged with riding furiously through the streets while drunk'. As a result his licence application was refused.

This refusal ruined their plans, and relations between John and Kezia became very frosty. Pascoe wasn't happy either. He'd started to factor the money from the sale of the Cottage of Content into his coach plans, and now they were uncertain as well. Relations between all three were strained. Pascoe became abusive towards Kezia, and Jane Bowden was caught in the crossfire. It all came to a head one night in December when a raging argument started involving all four people during which Pascoe swore at all of them. Jane Bowden wanted to have Pascoe charged with abuse and Kezia agreed in principle but she didn't want to jeopardise any future applications by appearing in court. Bowden did bring charges though, and Kezia was called as a witness, along with a passerby who had heard the raised voices from the street.

In Court Pascoe lied about his behaviour and language, and the witness statements were not consistent so the charge was dismissed. But Kezia's hackles were raised and she decided he wasn't going to get away with that. She then had Pascoe charged with abusing her in the same incident, but made sure that this time all the witness stories were rehearsed so that this time the charge was found proved and Pascoe was fined 5 pounds, in default one month in Brisbane gaol.

Despite this, the business agreement between them was unaffected. Neither Pascoe nor Kezia ever let personal feelings come between themselves and money. The Tregilgus' property auctions had already been advertised and went ahead in December. They included the Planet Inn, described as being; 'one of the best bush businesses in Queensland', 43 acres of 'superior farm land' at Taroom subdivided into 5 acre blocks, and an additional half an acre in town next to the Leichhardt Hotel.

The properties were very desirable and sold quickly. By January 1864 the Tregilguses were cashed up and had taken a lease on the pub. Women rarely involved themselves in money matters so John signed the lease but Kezia had driven a hard bargain and Pascoe had seen he wasn't going to scare her, so the relationship settled down to less than cordial business. Kezia was already starting to think that she would have to apply for a licence herself. John had become all but useless, hanging around with the teamsters, and getting into drunken fights. There was no chance of him ever being a licensee again.

As soon as the lease was signed, Kezia began the renovation work, and while the bar was closed she advertised in the Bulletin; 'Board and Lodging and Washing for 18 shillings a week.' Heavy rain in late January slowed the work, and the dirt road past the pub was a quagmire, but the renovations were completed and on the 10th of February 1864 Kezia advertised her new premises in the Rockhampton Bulletin, to be called 'The Cornish Mount Inn'. Legally it was still the Cottage of Content with Pascoe as licensee, but as far as the customers knew, it was Kezia's hotel.

# Chapter 26

# The Cornish

The building was the best they had yet traded from, with a large bar area, four sitting rooms and eight bedrooms, and a verandah on three sides. The kitchen, liquor store, and servant's quarters were at the back, along with stables for eleven horses, a hay shed, a pig sty and a fowl house. The lease cost 4 pounds per week. The adjoining house contained two large rooms, two bedrooms, and a kitchen, and cost 15 shillings per week.

They had applied for billiard and bagatelle licenses and a separate room off the bar was provided for those games. Lighting was installed in the hope that night trading may be allowed in the future. Lamps traditionally burned tallow, but paraffin had recently become available, and Kezia had paraffin lamps installed throughout the building. It was relatively expensive, but safer than some of the other fuels used by people in an effort to cut costs. Some of those fuels were unstable and many fires were caused in houses and hotels by exploding lamps. There was no grand foyer, just a small alcove between the guest entrance and the bar room where a staircase led to the upper floor. There were already plenty of pubs in town, but the population was continuing to grow, and had passed 700. The economy was booming, and there was always room for one more hotel.

The rains returned in March and the already soaked ground could not absorb any more water. The upper Dawson suffered the worst floods since white settlement. Both Ashton's Leichhardt Hotel and Lesser's store had more than three feet of water through them, and Zerbe's Taroom Hotel was almost surrounded by water. That explained the huge floods that now swept through Rockhampton as that water made its way from the Dawson and Brown Rivers into the Fitzroy. The river flooded to unprecedented heights, and washed away many dwellings unwisely built too close to the low banks. The Cornish was well away from the river, and apart from the deep mud in the unpaved road restricting access to all but the most determined drinkers, it was business as usual.

Any new hotel was a source of interest in the town, and the first rush of business was very strong as men came to try it out. Quite a few of them were men who had passed through Taroom in the early days, and knew the Tregilgus name. Word spread that the straight-talking Kezia was running another pub and old acquaintances came to say hello. Kezia had hoped to attract the more affluent type of customer, but despite the expensive renovations, the clientele settled down to the regulars who lived or worked within easy walking distance, and some of the men from further out at Gracemere who came to town at weekends.

Brandy was becoming popular and started to displace rum as the preferred drink these days. Ale was available, but it was always warm and often flat so it was less popular. Kezia didn't mind that some of her customers were the rough types that had been barred from other hotels in town. Their money was as good as anyone else's. She had no trouble talking to them in language they understood, and they caused no trouble in return. Drunks were allowed to sleep it off overnight on the side verandah, on stretchers that she supplied for a reasonable fee. Some amusement was created at times as friends of the sleeping drunk would carry the stretcher into the nearby scrub, so that the unfortunate chap was completely disoriented when he awoke the next day. Kezia's reputation continued to grow and profits were good and she saw this as a stepping stone to bigger and better things later on.

On the 5th of April 1864 Kezia advertised her intention to apply for a licence to sell 'fermented and spirituous liquors'. The advertisement included her reason for applying, being that her husband was going to 'travel on the road with teamsters'. Her application was approved and Kezia Tregilgus was a licensee, one of only two women in Rockhampton running hotels at that time. Mrs. Harrison had been running the Clarence and Eagle in Quay Street since 1861, although it was owned by Captain Champion, formerly of the Clarence and Eagle Steamship Company.

Once they were established, Kezia asked John to buy the place outright, but he was feeling unhappy about Kezia being the licensee and therefore effectively his boss when he was there. He always agreed they should buy it, but he never got around to actually doing anything.

A few weeks later Kezia was pouring drinks in the bar when a man with a dark full beard came in. She recognised him straight away.

'Mr. Christie.' she exclaimed. 'Welcome to my new establishment. How are you?'

'Very well thank you Mrs Tregilgus. I've come to town for supplies and heard you were here, so just called in to say hello.'

'How is business in Apis Creek nowadays? I believe that the gold rush has died away.' she said.

'Oh yes, it's not as busy as it once was, but I'm happy there and have no plans to move. You have come a long way since I last saw you as well. In Taroom wasn't it?'

'Yes,' she replied, 'I decided to improve my situation by running a larger hotel. This will be a stepping stone to a bigger one later.'

'I once thought of going abroad to improve my situation,' said Christie with a laugh, 'but leaving the country is becoming more difficult these days as travellers are being recorded more carefully.'

Kezia understood that he might attract unwanted attention trying to leave Australia. As they were talking, a man rose from his seat near the door and edged around the room until he could see Christie better without drawing attention to himself. After a minute he downed his drink and hurried from the bar. Kezia saw him go but thought nothing of it.

Christie soon left as well, and Kezia was still wondering about him when a Constable arrived and strode up to the bar.

'Mrs. Tregilgus, that man you were talking to a little while ago, is he still here?'

'No he isn't, Constable, he left half an hour ago.'

'Do you know where he was going?' he asked.

Kezia had no intention of assisting police in any way whatsoever.

'I have no idea.' she lied.

'Very well, if he comes back here you send for the police straight away.'

'Why Constable, what has he done?'

'I can't say at this time, but if we catch him you will know who he is.'

Two weeks later, rumours circulated that a team of constables including two detectives all the way from Sydney no less, had departed Rockhampton for Apis Creek to arrest the man known as the 'Prince of Bushrangers', Frank Gardiner.

Gardiner's arrest was the biggest event in Rockhampton's, and possibly Australia's history up to that time, and people turned out in their hundreds to see the prisoner being brought in. He appeared in court in Rockhampton and was committed for trial in Sydney, since most of his bushranging offences occurred in New South Wales. He remained in the lockup until a ship arrived to transport him south and Kezia never saw him again. The arrest and then his three trials were reported by every newspaper throughout the country. Gardiner's 'wife' turned out to be Kate Brown, the wife of a station manager in New South Wales who decided that Gardiner had more to offer than her husband. The black thoroughbred was also recovered, identified as a famous racehorse, and was shipped back to his rightful owner, Mr Beveridge, a Magistrate in Swan Hill, Victoria.

Kezia followed Gardiner's trials in the newspapers as everyone did, and along with many who never knew him, felt sorry that after being found not guilty by sympathetic juries in two trials, he was finally convicted after the third one. He was sentenced as an example to others, to 32 years hard labour. Kate went to New Zealand and within a few years committed suicide. The last Kezia ever knew of Gardiner was that eight years into his sentence he was released, but exiled from Australia. What she never knew was that he chose to go to San Francisco where he ran a hotel until he was said to have been killed in a bar room brawl in 1895.

In July James Pascoe died suddenly, and his businesses were put up for auction. Here was the perfect opportunity to buy the Cornish outright, and Kezia expected John would bid for it. He had other ideas though. He decided that he didn't want his money tied up in a business that he wasn't in charge of, and would not bid. Instead he negotiated a five year lease with the new owner, and left Kezia to continue as before. She now realised that she was never going to get her hands on the money and relations sank to a new low.

Even as the excitement of Gardiner's arrest was still buzzing through the town, four local louts who had been arrested separately for passing forged cheques, teamed up to escape from the Rockhampton lockup. 'Flash' Peter Fagan, 'Irish' Danny Webster, Johnnie Wright and Dick Howson who was also known as Tom Hill, were all in their twenties, and had little regard for authority. While the police were preoccupied they overpowered the only guard and opened the armoury, taking two rifles and a hand gun. They scaled the wall and ran off down Dawson Street past the Cornish Mount Hotel, heading for the Yaamba road. The guard had raised the alarm, and was running after them, though a long way behind, with a few men who had heard his shouts. The bar patrons heard the commotion and headed for the verandah to see what was happening. Kezia didn't know why the young men were being chased, but she saw that two undesirable events were about to happen. First, her patrons looked like joining the chase and may actually catch these poor lads, and secondly she would be left with no customers in the hotel.

'A free drink for anyone who stays.' she called out.

The drinkers paused at the door as the pursuers raced past, then turned as one, and headed for the bar.

Reports appeared in newspapers as far away as the Melbourne Argus and even New Zealand, following the exploits of these escapees for the next two months as they stole guns, horses and food from outlying stations and held up hotels, mailmen and isolated settlers. They were nearly caught once, but all except Howson got away again, and that caused the police to re-double their efforts. Howson had been sick and was left behind when the others saw the police approaching. He was arrested without a struggle, but was said to have 'maintained his impertinence and bravado'.

The remaining three were declared outlaws, able to be shot on sight. Their exploits were closely followed by newspapers who reported their victims' stories, apparently not always accurately. The outlaws wrote a letter to the Editor of the Rockhampton Bulletin to correct an earlier report of one of their 'frolics' near Westwood where they held up Hardy's Hotel. They had taken control of the town for five hours, and then when they were leaving, Fagan went to wish Mrs Hardy goodbye. A man named Kelly appeared with a gun, but fled when Fagan aimed his own gun. Fagan went after Kelly and in a short chase Fagan was shot and slightly wounded in the leg as he climbed through a fence. The letter claimed that Fagan hadn't fired a shot, but had mounted his horse to escape, and Kelly's next shot killed the mare. Kelly disappeared and the bushrangers then left town. The letter ended with a warning that Kelly should;

'keep wide of our tracks or we will have a reckoning with him that he will not fancy';

and an offer to pay the newspaper for their letter to be published.

Kezia knew two of the escapees from their earlier visits to the Cornish. She thought they were just young hot-heads, but now she wondered whether she had done the right thing in helping them escape. But since they hadn't hurt anyone there wasn't really any harm done, and she knew that they wouldn't do anything to affect her hotel. As a woman, she occupied an unusual position in this town, known and respected by the average working class men, as well as the other somewhat questionable characters who frequented her establishment. The wide ranging conversations she either had or overheard in the bar kept her abreast of all of the goings-on in Rockhampton.

Her sympathy for those who operated on the fringes of the law was well known, so no one was particularly surprised when, on the afternoon of Thursday the 9th of June, all three outlaws walked into the bar at the Cornish. There were only a few men in the bar and Kezia was serving drinks. She recognised them immediately.

'Hello boys, what are you doing here? The traps are still after you aren't they?'

'Yeah Missus Tregilgus, we're only staying for a quick drink. Pour us a round will you please?' Fagan asked as he took out some money.

Kezia lined up three glasses. 'Why have you come to town? It seems awfully risky. The traps can shoot you on sight.'

'Ah they haven't got a clue,' said Johnny Wright. 'We've given them the run-around for months. By the time they find out we're here we'll be miles away.'

Fagan took a gulp from his glass and said, 'We thought we might go to the Ball on Saturday night. If we get dressed up no one will know us.'

The annual Tradesman's Ball was scheduled for Saturday the 11th of June to coincide with the year's major horse racing meeting. Working men from outlying areas came to town in their finest attire for the gala, hoping among other things to meet eligible young ladies, but at least to get drunk and have a good time. The well-dressed lads would be sporting a cabbage tree hat adorned with a coloured veil around the crown, which when lowered kept the flies at bay. Moleskin breeches, Wellington boots, a Crimean shirt, and a sash of coloured silk wound around the waist constituted the height of men's fashion. For Kezia it would be the most profitable day of the year as the bar would be packed from opening time until the races started after lunch, followed by another surge between the last race and the start of the ball. Trading still had to cease at sundown, but the sun sank slowly on this day, and hotels traditionally continued trading into the evening unless there was trouble, and the police arrived to close the offending establishment down.

The trio had another drink and discussed their plan while Kezia served another customer. When she came back to them Webster said, 'You know, I think I'll stay in town until Saturday. Is there a room I can stay in Missus?'

'Yes, you can all stay if you want to.' Kezia answered.

Fagan said, 'No, I have some business to finish in Westwood. That bloke Kelly still owes me. I'll come back Saturday. What about you Johnnie?'

Wright had nothing much to do but thought it would be safer to be out of town. 'I'll come with you Pete. I don't want to hang around here too long.'

Webster said, 'Well I'm having a good bath and relax here. I'll see you Saturday.'

Fagan and Wright left together while Kezia poured Webster another drink.

'You'd better not spend too much time in the bar Irish,' said Kezia. 'I don't think anyone will call the police, but better to stay out of sight. I'll give you a bottle to drink in your room.'

Kezia noticed he had a revolver under his coat, but knew he would not draw it in here. Handing him a bottle, she said, 'You ought to get upstairs now. You never know who's going to come in.'

He grinned. 'It will be alright, I'll sit in the corner there where no one will notice me.'

'All right, I don't think anyone here will turn you in, but be careful, I don't want the traps raiding the place. It slows bar sales.'

The gang members were regarded by the public as local celebrities, and repeatedly giving the traps the slip was providing great sport for the spectators in Rockhampton and in the rest of the country. No one purposely tipped off the police, but within an hour there was a rumour circulating around town that Fagan's gang was drinking at the Cornish, and they soon heard about it.

Sub Inspector Foran ordered Sergeant Meldrum to get two of his Constables, dress in plain clothes and be ready to go to the Cornish. Soon they were suitably disguised and went via Police Magistrate John Jardine's residence to notify him of the impending arrests. Jardine decided that he would accompany the party, and mounted his horse. They all proceeded to the hotel and took up positions around the outside without being noticed. Kezia was in the kitchen and saw Foran near the stables. She knew immediately why he would be there. She went across to the table where Irish was sitting with some other men. Lowering her voice she said, 'I think the traps are outside. You'd better get out while you can.'

Irish jumped to his feet. 'Bloody traps!'

Kezia thought he might try to shoot his way out, and grabbed his arm. 'Come through to the back and go through the stables. That will give you some cover until you get away.' Kezia led him to the back door and seeing no one outside, let him out.

'Thanks Missus, I'll see you another time.'

He ran the 20 yards to the stables and paused to look around. Kezia watched from the doorway. As he started to run again, there was a shout from Inspector Foran calling on Webster to surrender or be shot. Webster spun around and both men aimed their guns at each other simultaneously. Foran fired. Webster heard the bullet whiz by him and tried to fire but nothing happened. By now Constables Canning and Judge appeared around the corner, and fired several shots at Webster, none of them hitting him. Irish ran across the yard and then across Dawson Road. He climbed through a fence and paused to fire again, but again nothing happened. More shots were fired at him and one passed through his coat. A bullet was projecting slightly from the cylinder of Webster's revolver preventing the chamber from rotating thus jamming the gun. Jardine was still on horseback but was unable to pass the fence, so he dismounted and asked Foran for his gun. As Irish pulled the trigger repeatedly to no effect, Magistrate Jardine steadied his hand on a fence rail, took aim and calmly fired. Irish Webster fell with a bullet in his thigh.

Kezia saw it all. 'The bastards shot him.' she said to no one in particular. She grabbed a cloth and hurried out to see how badly he was hurt. The police kept her away while they questioned Webster and searched the hotel for the others, and then carted him off to the hospital. Doctor Callaghan was called but was unable to extract the bullet, which then remained in Webster's leg until after his Court appearance.

The patrons who had gone outside to see what was happening returned to the bar, and bets were taken on how long the others would remain free. Business boomed for the rest of the day as word of the shootout spread, and people came from all over town to see for themselves. Kezia was interviewed by the Bulletin's young reporter J.T.S. Bird, whose account of the incident was published in the next edition. The story was also reported in detail in the Brisbane Courier on the 18th of June.

Jardine took charge of the search for the last two fugitives, and within weeks he heard of a gun and a horse being stolen near Apis Creek. On Monday the 4th of July, as the police were heading towards the scene of this latest theft, a local man named Paton recognised Johnnie Wright and bailed him up. Wright surrendered and had his hands in the air as Paton's gun went off, accidentally he would later claim, and Wright fell dead. Fagan was soon caught and brought back to Rockhampton. Magistrate Jardine was officially commended for his actions in capturing the outlaws, but many townspeople said that at 20, Wright was too young to die, and there was a suspicion that it wasn't an accident.

The report of the apprehension of the last gang member was flashed around the country, and the detailed story of all the arrests was reprinted as far away as the Hobart Mercury, the Tregilgus name appearing there again, nearly twenty years after its last publication in that paper.

When the three men stood trial in the Rockhampton Supreme Court before Chief Justice Sir James Cockle, they were found guilty of several charges of robbery under arms. Flash Fagan and Irish Webster were sentenced to 20 years each, and Dick Howson got 12. They were transported to Brisbane to serve their sentences, and newspapers trumpeted the victory for law and order over these criminals. The mood at the Cornish was sombre though, and Kezia's opinion of the unjust legal system was reinforced once again.

# Chapter 27

# The Affluent Years

As the trial was going on, Ruth's second daughter was born in Rolleston on the 11th of August 1864, and she was named Elizabeth Ellen. Kezia received the news by mail, and since it was also Emma's second birthday in October, decided to take the weekly coach to visit Rolleston and see the baby, leaving John to run the hotel for a couple of weeks and under strict instructions to remain sober. She found Tom and Ruth in good spirits, business was good, and both Emma and the new baby were healthy.

The town now had about 20 permanent residents, and travellers from the south going to Springsure and Peak Downs still had to pass the Planet Inn. All of them found it a convenient place to stop. Cash was scarce in these remote areas, and payment for almost anything was usually made by cheque. Hoteliers and shop keepers always finished up cashing the cheques and redeeming them at the nearest bank, Springsure being the closest to Rolleston. A forged or stolen cheque could take weeks to be detected, and the perpetrator was long gone by that time. Bad debts were a hazard of doing business out here.

In recent months several forged cheques had been found, and the police had tracked the movements of the man who had passed them in Taroom, Rolleston and Springsure. When they questioned Ruth about him, she remembered a man about 30 years old, around 5 feet 6 inches tall with fair hair, moustache and sideburns. She particularly noticed his small hands. His cheque was worthless, and Ruth and Tom were 12 pounds out of pocket. Ruth related this story to Kezia, who on hearing the description exclaimed.

'By God, I think I know that man! He's been in our hotel several times.' She thought for a few seconds. 'Yes I think his name is Hartigan, but everyone calls him 'The Snob'. He works for Mr. O'Reilly. I haven't seen him for a few months, perhaps he's found a new line of work.'

Normally Kezia would have given no further thought to the matter, since no one passed forged cheques in her hotel, under pain of certain retribution from her tougher customers. But defrauding Ruth was the same as defrauding Kezia herself, even if he didn't know who Ruth was.

'You tell the police who he is, and I'll keep a lookout for him when I get home. I know some men who can get your money back for you.'

Kezia enjoyed her visit with the grandchildren, but two weeks later she was back at the Cornish, finding the place in chaos, with bills unpaid, the cook ready to quit, and John happily drunk. She also had to work out how to cope with their first downturn in business since the end of convict transportation twelve years before.

In 1861 the Queensland Government had offered assisted passage to immigrants from England to accelerate population growth, especially in the more remote areas. Since then, ships had been occasionally arriving in Rockhampton direct from England, bringing a steady flow of new arrivals. Lately though, there had been a sudden large increase in shipping and immigrants. It was caused by the combination of overly glowing accounts given by people returning to England, and the increased unemployment there caused by a cotton shortage in the mills as the American Civil War disrupted production there. In one year some 1500 new residents settled in Rockhampton, with many more thousands going to Brisbane. As a result, there was an oversupply of labour in town, wages were reduced, and the economy throughout the State went into recession. Prices increased as business people tried to maintain their profits, and people had little spare money for recreation. Hotels fared badly as business slowed noticeably, and Kezia's dream of building her own hotel receded along with the economy.

Now the domestic problems they had been having came to a head. Kezia decided that John had to go. She told him to pack his personal stuff and get out. He retaliated in a way that would hurt her the most. He advertised the sale of the remaining lease on the Cornish. That should leave her with no hotel, no place to live and no money. On the 12th of November 1864 the advertisement appeared in the Bulletin for the sale of the remaining four and a half years of the lease on the pub, its outbuildings and adjoining house. Kezia was equal to the challenge though, and found the new lessee before he made any changes. She convinced him to let her manage the place as before, and he agreed. So as far as she was concerned it was business as usual. John then spent all his time on the road having the time of his life.

Rockhampton's population was now around 3,000 with 22 hotels in town, several within easy walking distance of the Cornish. Competition between hotels had always been keen, but now with the reduced trade it was getting fierce. The Squatters Arms Hotel was a popular place and was a thorn in Kezia's side when it came to maintaining regular customers. It was not far from the Cornish, and closer to town. Drinkers often chose not to walk the extra distance to the Cornish, and the Squatters Arms always seemed to be doing better trade. Kezia often mentioned to her patrons that it was a nuisance and she wished it wasn't there. The fire that destroyed it late one night was reported in the Bulletin as showing 'unmistakeable evidence that the fire was the work of an incendiary'. Business at the Cornish picked up again.

The expansion of the Rockhampton town centre was accompanied by several more hotels built in 1865 and '66 as the economy started to recover, and recreational activities were higher on the priority list for working men. Good housing was available for rent at 25 shillings a week, the Jockey Club began regular race meetings, more visiting entertainment troupes arrived, and Ashton's Circus started regular annual shows that would go on for over 100 years. Rowing regattas were held on the river, and an annual 'Australia versus The World' cricket match was held, with local lads playing against recent immigrants. Rockhampton now boasted businesses of all descriptions including a photography studio, and the town was connected to Brisbane and the world by Telegraph. A railway line to the west was planned, with construction expected to start within the year, but the coast road from Brisbane still terminated 70 miles south of Rockhampton at Gladstone. A track did continue on but was impassable to wagons at many creek crossings.

On the 3rd of May 1865 the Planet Inn was again advertised for sale or lease and this time Tom Eyles was ready. He and Ruth bought the Inn.

Kezia's health now wasn't as good as it used to be. Her knees were noticeably more painful, and she walked with the aid of a stick. She was still only 46 years old, but looked older. She had frequent disputes with both employees and tenants over payment of wages or rent, some of which ended in the small debts court. Kezia won most of those cases. By September 1865 she hadn't seen John for nearly 12 months and applied for a Separation Order under the Matrimonial Causes Act to live separately from him, and that was granted. That meant he was barred from her home and she could refuse him entry to the hotel.

All thoughts of buying her own hotel had evaporated, but managing a bigger one in the town centre held some appeal. When they had first arrived in town she had thoughts of one day buying the Rockhampton Hotel, but it was now somewhat isolated as the town had grown away from it, and any lingering thoughts she may have had disappeared when it burned down in 1866. Ruth had another baby by then, this time a boy she named William, born on the 31st of July. Kezia hadn't felt well enough to make the trip to see him, so it would have to wait until Ruth was able to bring the children to Rockhampton, although when that would be was anyone's guess.

News was much more immediate since the recently invented Telegraph sent messages all over the country within minutes. So the arrest of Edward 'The Snob' Hartigan at Taroom for horse stealing and cheque forging was received in Rockhampton on the same day it happened. The report said that he was to be sent from Taroom to Springsure for trial. That trip would take two days, with an overnight stop at Rolleston. Kezia wondered if Ruth might finally get her money back. But the next news of Hartigan reported that after the overnight stop at Rolleston, his cell was found empty and he had escaped on a stolen horse. Over the next 35 years Hartigan was caught, tried, sentenced and released several times. He always returned to his life of crime, and was last heard of in 1904, then aged about 69, living at Dunwich on Stradbroke Island.

The 'Bridge Inn' on Dawson Road was an established hotel that was closer to the centre of town, and when it came up for lease Kezia wanted it. She successfully applied to the owner to lease it. So by July of 1866 Kezia was licensee of the best hotel she'd ever worked in, and her reputation as a businesswoman increased.

A year later Kezia was offered the lease for an even bigger hotel in the centre of town. This one was on the corner of Derby and East Streets. She knew it would be the last one she would run, and when she took over the license in December 1867 she called it the 'Bird in Hand'. To let everyone know she had moved, Kezia put an advertisement in the Rockhampton Bulletin.

Christmas 1867 came and went, and New Year's Eve was a particularly busy time at the Bird. By early evening everyone was drunk so some extent, but Kezia was keeping things under control when John suddenly appeared in the bar. He was drunk and started to mumble something about coming home. Kezia was in no mood to listen to his ramblings and told him to leave or she would call the police. He was too drunk to understand, and so she did. He was arrested and later charged with trespass, but was discharged. On the 10th of January 1868 he applied to the Court for Kezia's Separation Order to be cancelled. In Court she argued that he had not supported her in any way and that she had been living upon her own earnings, but the Magistrate believed that husbands and wives should live together so the Order was cancelled, and John moved into the Bird in Hand.

Relations between them were still virtually non-existent and were not improved when Kezia realised the reason he had come back was that he had drunk and gambled away all the money that he'd taken with him. He was very contrite and promised to work hard to make it up to her, and since she had no choice she tolerated him. Over the following months they settled into a strained but stable partnership.

No one in Rockhampton knew of Kezia's convict background, and her small stature caused some people meeting her for the first time to underestimate her toughness. An incident occurred at Easter of 1868 that reminded those who may have forgotten, that she was not to be trifled with.

In April, the Easter weekend was upon them, and the licensing restrictions meant there was no bar trade on Good Friday or Easter Sunday. Guests could drink at any time though, and there were a few more than normal occupying rooms for the long weekend. The expense of changing over the licence needed to be recouped and Kezia wanted all the trade she could get. So when John Ryan arrived to rent a room for the weekend Kezia was only too pleased to accommodate him. He was a well-dressed chap about 40 years old with an Irish accent, who appeared to be well off. Kezia thought that she should encourage him to spend as much as possible over the bar. She showed him to his room and suggested that he come to the lounge bar when he was ready.

Ryan settled himself in, and later went into the bar where a couple of other guests were already drinking quietly. He ordered a drink and Kezia served him. She decided to keep him talking to have him stay as long as possible so she said,

'Welcome to the Bird-in-Hand Mister Ryan. Are you staying long?'

'I've just come to look at buying property in Rockhampton. I've been in New Zealand recently and managed to dig up some gold, but there seems to be more opportunity to make money here.' Here was the conversation starter she needed.

'I used to live in Auckland myself about twenty years ago. I had a little shop in Queen Street.'

As he opened his wallet to pay for the drink, Kezia saw a large wad of notes. Here was the sort of customer she'd always dreamed about. Ryan sat down, and they chatted about New Zealand for some time as Kezia plied him with drinks. He was easy to talk to, and told her stories of his experiences in the goldfields around Otago. He had made enough to set himself up in business, and came to Rockhampton for that purpose.

It was late in the evening that Ryan seemed a little drunk, and Kezia suggested he go to his room to sleep it off. John helped him up the stairs and let him into his room.

Next morning Ryan appeared in a very distressed state.

'Mrs Tregilgus, I've been robbed. All my money is gone. More than one hundred pounds.'

'Oh dear', said Kezia. 'That isn't good for our reputation. Are you sure you haven't just misplaced it?'

'No I had it in my wallet when I left the bar last night and now it's all gone. Mr. Tregilgus is the only person I've seen since then.'

John wasn't around at the time, and Kezia wondered if he could explain it. She hoped he hadn't robbed a guest. That was just not good for business. She made a mental note to ask him about it.

'I'll get the police for you.' she said.

The police arrived later and questioned all the guests, but no suspect was identified, and the money was not recovered. Ryan was distraught, and claimed he was broke until the bank opened on Tuesday morning. Kezia didn't want him leaving early, and she had seen the money he had so she offered to loan him some money to tide him over. She expected to get most of it back over the bar during the weekend, then have him repay it all again on Tuesday. She loaned him five pounds.

Ryan spent no time in the bar for the rest of the weekend, and Kezia was feeling annoyed that she wasn't getting her money's worth. Early on Tuesday morning Ryan was packed and ready to leave.

'I'll be at the bank when it opens Mrs Tregilgus, and I'll come straight back to pay you the money I borrowed, and the room tariff.'

As he left, a little alarm bell went off in Kezia's mind. She must be losing her touch. Here was a perfect stranger walking away owing her more than five pounds. The banks didn't open for another two hours, and he could be long gone by then. She called John and asked him about the money.

'I didn't know he had any money on him. The door was locked so I don't know how anyone could have got in.' John said. 'I'll bet he hasn't been robbed at all.'

She was ready to chase Ryan, but then a thought occurred to her. Ryan would want to leave town as quickly as possible, and the Brisbane-bound steamer was due to leave the wharf very soon. That was enough for Kezia, she marched off to the shipping office at the wharf. She identified Ryan, and while waving her walking stick menacingly demanded that the Agent cancel his ticket, and then called the police who duly arrested him. He later settled the debt.

Despite these incidents business was going smoothly for the Tregilguses although it seemed to John that Kezia was starting to act erratically from time to time. She still saw the doctor a couple of times each year but there was still no effective treatment available. People tolerated her strange behaviour at first, but gradually she became known as being somewhat eccentric, and she could no longer work behind the bar in the hotel. John grew increasingly concerned, and on one of their regular trips to Doctor Callaghan the doctor called him aside. He told John that the mood swings were the result of the final stage of her illness beginning, and she would decline rapidly from here. Kezia would have fits of delirium and muscular spasms that would paralyse her, and they would not be pleasant to see. It was usual for people at this time to be shut away in a hospital until death provided ultimate relief for both themselves and their families. John knew that this was the time he had dreaded from the beginning when they started their partnership on the schooner.

In Kezia's lucid times they discussed their future plans and she told him that she wanted to see the grandchildren before it was too late, and so they planned to return to Rolleston. Before the end of the year Kezia offered the remaining lease on the Bird in Hand for sale. It was taken over by William Gordon who renamed it the Telegraph Hotel, and John and Kezia were finished with the hotel industry. They didn't leave town immediately and John found work while Kezia spent some time in the hospital.

In Rolleston, Ruth had another son on the 6th of October 1868 who she named George.

Morris Heilborne died without a Will in Taroom in November of 1868, sparking much legal argument over his estate.

In October 1869 Tom Eyles started advertising the Planet Inn for sale. It finally sold in April of 1870, and changed hands many times over the next 30 years.

By the time her fifth child was born in 1870 Ruth had become aware of Kezia's advancing illness, and she decided to name her new daughter Kezia, after her mother.

By 1872 Kezia's condition had seriously deteriorated and when it became obvious that the end was near John packed up their few remaining belongings and set out for Rolleston.

# Epilogue

After arriving in Rolleston they stayed only briefly, since Kezia's seizures had become too frequent and the children had to be kept away from her. She was taken on to Springsure hospital where she remained for the last four months of her life. Ruth's five children at the time were Emma aged 10, Elizabeth 8, William 6, George 4, and the youngest, Keziah Jane was 2. In March of 1873, during the birth of Ruth's sixth child, while Kezia was near death in the Springsure hospital, there was some contamination that set off septicaemia. Ruth lingered for two weeks before dying on the 26th of March 1873 at the age of 27. The baby girl survived though, and Tom named her Ruth.

Kezia died two weeks later on the 10th of April aged 52. She is buried in the Springsure cemetery, where her headstone spells her name as Keziah. John won a contract to build a more secure police station at Rolleston, then later remarried and moved to Gladstone. He again worked as a Carrier, but died of stomach cancer in Rockhampton on the 10th of October 1879, just before his 56th birthday. He is buried in the South Rockhampton cemetery.

A Post Office was established at Rolleston on the 1st of February 1871 and Tom Eyles was appointed Post Master. Tom ran the store in Rolleston until his early death at the age of 43 in December of 1881. He died without a Will, and on the 27th of February 1882, the Queensland Supreme Court passed all his estate and the lawful Guardianship of his children to William Francis Walton, a storekeeper, of Rockhampton. Tom is buried next to Ruth in the Rolleston cemetery. Emma was then 19 years old and took over her father's position as Post Mistress. She probably raised the younger children, except for Keziah Jane and Ruth who were sent to a boarding school. That was thought to be in Rockhampton, but may have been at All Hallows in Brisbane. In July of 1878 Tom Eyles won a musical jewel box in the All Hallows Building Fund Art Union Special Draw, for donations over 10 pounds.

Hale, Altrincham and Knutsford are now part of Greater Manchester in England.

The quilt made on the convict ship Rajah was discovered in a Scottish attic in 1987 and returned to Australia. It is now held by the National Gallery of Australia, and is known as the Rajah Quilt. It is very fragile, and rarely displayed, but can be seen on the Gallery's website.

The two hotels almost side by side at Rocklea are still there, although they've been rebuilt several times since 1855, and the creek crossing has been improved with a six lane flyover now called the Ipswich Motorway. Coincidentally the author lived at Rocklea from 1950 to 1975, just a few hundred yards from the hotels.

Grantham remains a small country town near Gatton in the Lockyer Valley.

John Tregaligus (sic) is named in Queensland Parliamentary records as the founder of Taroom, although Martin Zerbe was probably there before him. The Leichhardt Hotel is still operating there, despite burning down and being rebuilt several times over the years.

Rolleston is still a small town with one hotel, but the Planet Inn is long gone. The Brown River has been renamed the Comet.

Ruth's children grew up and remained in Rolleston until they had families of their own. Her fifth child, Keziah Jane, (she spelled it with the added h), was the author's great grandmother, and she lived at Rolleston all her life. Ironically she hated the name Keziah and was known throughout her life as Jane. She died there in 1959 at the age of 88. It is unlikely that she ever knew that her grandmother was a convict.

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Notes

Chapter 1 The Farm.

Sophia's actual birth details haven't been conclusively found, so her exact birth name isn't known. She may have been Christened with both Sophia and Kezia. This family was considered by a professional researcher (who located all of Sophia's English records for me), to be the most likely one of the several in the area in 1830. Sophia's physical description is real, but the family events in this chapter are fictional.

Chapter 2 The Manor

All of the characters are real people except Henry Triplett who was invented to fit the scenario. Nutall and his sister were the victims of Sophia's theft, but the employment positions held by the others isn't known.

Chapter 3 Larceny

The circumstances of the theft are unknown, so the scenario is invented, but the amount she stole is accurate, and it was all in coins. All details of the charges, names of witnesses and officials, trial, findings and sentence are as recorded. The name Kezia appears as an alias so she must have been using it before her arrest.

Chapter 4 Gaol

All descriptions of the prison and its routine were given to me by my researcher. Matron Gaskell was real. Sophia's conduct was recorded as bad, so the incident with Sloan was invented to explain that.

Chapter 5 The Pin

Most of this chapter is fictional. The record shows Sophia was charged with stealing either a gold pen or pin. Since she was a bonnet maker, I considered a pin the more likely, and the scenario is invented to fit the facts. No actual trial record has been found. Most of the characters are fictional, but the sentence is as recorded. The three other women convicted that day were real, but I changed Mary Adshead's name to Mary Sheady since I ascribed fictional events to her in a later chapter.

Chapter 6 Millbank

The description of the prison and its routine are taken from a report written by a journalist after he was given a guided tour in about 1845. We have no written record that Sophia was at Millbank, but others from Knutsford were sent there at that time. The characters are real, but the events are fictional, based on the known routine.

Chapter 7 The Hulk

There is no direct proof that she went to the Justitia, but her record shows 'Character on hulk.....bad.' The Justitia was used briefly for female prisoners at about that time.

Chapter 8 Hope

Kezia Heyter was real, and her appointment to the Rajah by the Ladies Reform Society was as described. Exactly how she selected the women for the quilt project isn't known.

Chapter 9 The Rajah

The description of the Rajah is based on standard fitouts for convict transports, but it was used only once as a convict ship. Captain Ferguson was in command of the Rajah for about 10 years before becoming Melbourne's Harbour Master. Second Officer Stevens is invented. Onboard routine was set by the Surgeon Superintendent on each voyage, and Dr. Donovan was the Superintendent on this voyage. The routine described was mostly taken from another ship's record, but Donovan's report does describe the groups coming aboard, and duties being assigned as I've written. The convicts' conduct is typical of other recorded voyages. Sophia's duties are fictionalised.

Chapter 10 The Voyage

This is all basically true, except there is no record of which women actually made the quilt. I used the real names of some of the 30 women considered by researchers at the Australian National Gallery as being the most likely. Sophia is one of them. The number of women was determined by examining the stitching styles. Kezia Heyter is thought to have embroidered the message on the quilt, but I prefer to believe Sophia did it.

Chapter 11 Van Diemens Land

This chapter is based on standard routines followed by all ships arriving at Hobart. Sarah Parfitt died as described. On arrival about 50 women went on to Launceston. The Lady Franklin and the Tamar were the two Government Brigs that shuttled back and forth, with supplies and prisoners, so they probably travelled on one of them.

Chapter 12 The Factory

This chapter is mostly true. All the characters are real. The events come from both official and newspaper reports. Sophia was there at the time, but exactly what her involvement was in each event isn't known. The ringleaders were sent back to Hobart, so her involvement was probably just part of the general melee as described.

Chapter 13 Assignment

Sophia was actually assigned to Reverend Turner but I had no information about him, so changed his name to Thompson, and invented his character to fit the real charges that Turner laid against Sophia. The charges and punishments are as recorded. Some new information indicates that Turner was a well respected Minister with several servants, so his charges against Sophia were almost certainly due to her misconduct rather than his, and my scenario may be well off the mark.

Chapter 14 On the Town

This chapter is based largely on conditions described in Ian Brand's very detailed book, 'Tasmania's Convict Probation System.' Characters are real people, but the scenarios are invented to fit the known facts.

Chapter 15 Ticket of Leave

It seems certain that Sophia contracted syphilis before Ruth was born, since the disease can cause an hereditary eye condition in some of the sufferer's descendants. This condition was noticed many years ago in a family member during an otherwise routine eye examination. The doctor stated then that an ancestor had had syphilis, but since all the known ancestors had been clergymen it remained a puzzle until Sophia's story was discovered. By using the timing of known events this scenario seems fairly accurate. John Green did apply to marry her, but apparently died before doing so.

Chapter 16 John Tregilgus

This chapter is factual, but John's involvement in the battle at Tongatapu isn't known. Assaults on the police and the dialogue in Court are taken from newspaper reports.

Chapter 17 The Schooner

Details of the boat are from shipping records. Their meeting and her involvement on the boat are fictionalised, but based on timing of known events, it seems likely to be reasonably accurate. Jane's name was changed to Ruth at about this time, but the reason is invented. I doubt that John was Ruth's father because Sophia could have been out of gaol nearly a year earlier if she had married him as soon as she knew she was pregnant. Perhaps it was John that didn't want to get married then, but leaving her in gaol would have been a heartless act even for him.

Chapter 18 The Trousers

Probably the most accurate chapter in the book, with dialogue taken from newspaper accounts of their arrest and trial. The name 'Handspike Jack' appears here. However, I haven't found where Tregilgus went during the trial. Later records indicate he probably went to New Zealand.

Chapter 19 A Fresh Start

This chapter is based almost completely on young John's death record, which gives his father's address and occupation in 1853, and NZ shipping records for 1854. There is no indication of when they went to Melbourne, but when they arrived in Auckland in 1854, they organised the sale of the listed trade goods within a week or two, so must have been living there before going to Melbourne. They left for Sydney within a few days of the sale. Looking at historical events, reasonable assumptions can be made about their situation in Melbourne as well as a plausible reason for leaving such a prosperous city. Menallack's Cornish Arms hotel at Brunswick is still trading. All records from here on show Sophia as Kezia Tregilgus.

Chapter 20 Grafton

The exact reason for their staying here only 13 months isn't known. This chapter is historically true with real characters.

Chapter 21 Overland

There is no known record to show how they travelled to Taroom. They may have travelled overland from Grafton, but it would have been a hard journey and seems out of character for John the seafarer. A staged journey via Brisbane, Lockyer Valley and Darling Downs as I've described seems more likely. This chapter is historically true with real characters but the scenarios are fictionalised.

Chapter 22 The Dawson

Historically factual, but with fictionalised dialogue.

Chapter 23 The Leichhardt

Factual except for the meeting with Christie, but he did pass through the area during that time on the way to Apis Creek with his wife and the racehorse.

Chapter 24 The Planet

Based on the timing of the first licence for the Planet Inn, the Post Master's report, and records of the Eyles family. Invented scenarios.

Chapter 25 Rockhampton

In earlier editions of this book a trip to America occurred at this time, based on a family recollection that they went there on a holiday. The latest information shows they were in Rockhampton from June 1863 until October 1868, and so doesn't allow time for that trip to have happened. The story may have been spread by the Tregilguses as they were leaving Rolleston to throw creditors off their trail.

Chapter 26 The Cornish

Basically factual, taken from newspaper reports. All characters are real, but with invented dialogue.

Chapter 27 The Affluent Years

The theft of the 110 pounds from John Ryan at Easter 1868 was reported widely in Australia and New Zealand. There is a separate story of Kezia chasing a man down the street to get her money back at Easter, which sounds remarkably similar. I put the two stories together in a fictionalised scenario. The rest is basically factual with all real characters.

After suddenly leaving the Bird-in-Hand in 1868 just a few weeks after renewing her licence, and then a Small Debt Court appearance in October there is no record of them until her death in Springsure in 1873. If there ever was a trip to America, perhaps it happened in that period.

Historical Research Sources

A Description of the Colony of NSW and its Dependent Settlements................................Wentworth 1819

The Convict Probation System..............Brand 1990

Transported to Van Diemen's Land........O'Neill 1977

Life in Victoria 1853 - 1858.....................Kelly 1859

Old Melbourne Memories ..............Bolderwood 1884

History of Victorian Goldfields ...............Flett 1977

It Happened in Brunswick.....................Barnes 1987

Taroom and Her People.......................Hardy c1985

The Town on the Brown.......................Pullar 1999

Early History of Rockhampton ................Bird

Queensland Desperadoes ......................Grabs 1983

National Library of Australia on-line newspapers

National Library of New Zealand Past Papers

National Gallery of Australia RajahQuilt.

Other Books by Barry Allan coming soon

Black Sheep and Gold Diggers

Richard Venvill was sentenced to seven years for his part in the Swing Riots in England in 1830. He was Pardoned in 1836 and helped settle the Port Philip District of Victoria. Joseph Allen was a Glasgow street hoodlum whose ten year sentence was cut short by a Political Pardon when his convict ship arrived in Melbourne in 1846. He soon became one of the first Police Detectives and then was among the discoverers of gold at Blackwood near Melbourne. The book follows them individually through their convict years, the settlement of Port Philip, the foundation of Melbourne, the gold rush and other historical events that affected their lives.

The Great Adventure

The story of three brothers from Footscray Victoria in the AIF during World War One. Joe joined first and arrived at Gallipoli in time for the battle of Lone Pine. From there he went to the Western Front and fought in nearly every major battle until his luck ran out just before the war finished. Dave, the youngest, was second to join and had many adventures, some of them in VD hospitals. George the eldest brother was married and was last to join. By the time he returned to Australia his life was changed forever.
