Thursday, 27 March 2014

Non compos mentis

Once again Tony Abbott has shown he is unworthy to have the high office of the Prime Minister of Australia, he is a joke, non compos mentis and by reinstating knights and dames to Australia's honours system, he is dishonouring the memory of many Australian people like Peter Lalor "Eureka Stockade." 

and

W.J. Bennett, chairman Strike Committee
W. Fothergill, secretary Strike Committee
A.J. Brown, member Strike Committee
Hugh O. Blackwell, secretary Q.L.U.
F.H. Murphy, secretary Roma branch Q.L.U.
George Taylor, organiser C.D.C.
Alex. Forrester, organiser C.D.C.
W. Hamilton, delegate Strike Committee
W.H. Smith-Barry, delegate Strike Committee
P.F. Griffin, chairman Clermont Camp
A.J.S. Stuart, member C.D.C.
Robert Prince

The above mentioned were arrested in the month of April, 1891, amid a display of military with fixed bayonets and Gatling guns, chained together (some of them) like so many bullocks, and marched from place to place previous to committal. They were brought before Judge Harding at Rockhampton in May of the same year, abused by him as if they were scoundrels, and as if their lives had been one long drawn skein of wickedness, and finally convicted by a judge-bounced jury and sentenced to three years' hard labour, and to find sureties for good behaviour for another year.
The conviction of the strike leaders explains the rottenness of our judicial system as well as of society as a whole, and shows how easy it is in times of excitement for innocent men to be sent to gaol on trumped up charges, merely to gratify the whims of a despotic class Government, which, if it had acted impartially, could have averted all the bitterness, trouble, and expense of the Shearers' Strike of 1891.
Respecting the trial, an extract from an account written by Mr. W. Lane, (then editor of this paper) 
i.e. THE WORKER


FREEDOM ON THE WALLABY.

(Written for “THE WORKER”)

Australia's a big country
An' Freedom's humping bluey,
An' Freedom's on the wallaby
Oh don't you hear'er cooey.
She's just begun to boomerang,
She'll knock the tyrants silly,
She's goin' to light another fire
And boil another billy.

Our fathers toiled for bitter bread
While loafers thrived beside'em,
But food to eat and clothes to wear,
Their native land denied'em
An'so they left that native land
In spite of their devotions,
An' so they come, or if they stole,
Were sent across the ocean.

Then freedom couldn't stand the glare
Of Royalty's regalia,
She left the loafers where they were
An' come out to Australia,
But now across the mighty main
The chains have come ter bind her,
She little thought to see again
The wrongs she left behuind her.

Our parent's toiled to make a home,
Hard grubbin' 'twas an' clearin',
They wasn't crowed much with Lords
When they was pioneerin'
But now that we have made the land
A garden full of promise,
Old Greed must' crook 'is dirty hand
An come ter take from us.

So we must fly a rebel flag
As others did before us,
And we must sing a rebel song
And loin in rebel chorus.
We'll make the tyrants feel the sting,
O' those that they would throttle;
They needn't say the fault is ours
If blood should stain the wattle.

Henry Lawson

Brisbane May, 1891.


The Worker

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