Conspiracy of
Thieves
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Synopsis |
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1821 James Mudie, with four daughters from Forfarshire, Scotland, is a free settler and develops Castle Forbes between Maitland and Singleton in New South Wales. Now a Maitland Magistrate, Jacobs Ladder, the term used for convicts who stole deliberately to get a free trip to Australia is exposed. From the harsh industrial jute and cotton mills to the prosperous new world of farming in New South Wales, emancipated convicts seek retribution and drive Mudie from his land. On the ship home Mudie writes the controversial book ‘The Felonry of New South Wales' and publishes in London in 1837. Westminster and the transportation executive committee are shocked at the scandal and terminate transportation.
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Based on true events in Australia as a Penal Colony |
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Prologue
‘To hell with Lennie, he's the problem in the first place,' cursed Larnach, sneering at the pathetic sight of the broken man, the lower half of his body squashed into the soft alluvial mud. The rain had started again bringing a new hazard, the possibility that the Hunter could rise further, the river level already perilously close to the top of the bank. ‘I've got no feeling in my legs,' groaned Lennie into Ben's right ear, his eyes hardly open. ‘And I'm cold.' Lennie's head fell back against the wooden spoke. ‘He's still alive,' shouted Brady. ‘But he's cold and needs that brandy.' ‘What brandy?' laughed Larnach. ‘That's for me to get over the shock of the damage to my bullock cart.' The cork squeaked as Larnach pulled it from the neck and took a healthy swig before climbing down to investigate the situation further. ‘On second thoughts, don't remove any harnesses, I'll cut him free where he is.' ‘But his legs?' argued Brady slithering out from under the wagon. ‘They're gone anyway,' replied Larnach cynically. ‘Get me the hand saw, the one with the coarse serrations.' Brady scrambled back up the bank. Lennie had passed out again. ‘Waste of good brandy,' muttered Larnach whilst scooping slimy mud from around Lennie's crushed legs. ‘Hey, Brady, also bring that spare harness,' instructed Larnach. ‘Cut two-inch wide straps with buckles on. I need them for tourniquets. Brady crawled back under the wagon and tightened the harness straps with the buckle around the top of each crushed leg. ‘Rip his trousers off, I'll saw both thighbones on the angle. Try to miss his little bit, but after today don't reckon he'll get any takers.' Larnach chuckled to himself. ‘The river's rising,' shouted Brady above the noise of the bullockies and raging river. ‘I can see it from here.' ‘Give me that bloody saw you idiot. If we don't get a move on we'll lose the rig as well,' shouted Larnach ripping at Lennie's trousers around his crotch. The saw cut deep and fast, blood mixed with alluvial mud. But Lennie was free and they dragged the prostrate body from under the cart. ‘Wrap the bandages around the stumps,' ordered Larnach. ‘Don't want him bleeding all over everything.' ‘Give him some brandy,' pleaded Brady.
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