SULLIVAN’S ACCOUNT OF HIS TRAVELS.

New Zealand Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 4296, 28 December 1874, Page 3

SULLIVAN’S ACCOUNT OF HIS TRAVELS.

(From the. Bendigo Advertiser, December 15.) Sullivan arrived in Sandhurst about halfpast 9 yesterday, handcuffed and guarded by two policemen. His destination was Melbourne, and it was considered necessary, as much as possible, to keep him from public observation. The news of the arrest of the criminal, and his lodgment in the lock-up only got wind about half an hour before the time for his departure for Melbourne, and then our reporter was allowed an interview with the prisoner. As far as he was concerned (the prisoner is meant), it appeared as if lie rather liked it. The conversation which ensued was a rather promiscuous one. Sullivan was as full of talk as could he wished. In fact, he boiled oVer with talk. Being a prisoner, he desired to be a distinguished prisoner, and had paid the penalty of the honor. New Zealand had cast him off from her shores, and he had gone to England. From there, for what ? To be branded before he crossed the line as a murderer. “It was very simple,” said he, “ the way they found me out. I was a passenger of the ship (the name he would not give) so-and-so to London, and just as we were crossing the line, a woman identified me. Somehow or other, women have always been at the bottom of my mishaps. It was a woman who drew me to New Zealand, and it was a woman I came hack for. I tell you the truth,” he said to our reporter, “I could not rest away from my wife, I could not rest away from my children. You see, X had property at Wedderburn, and I knew it had been sold for a song without my consent, so I came back to reclaim it —only for the sake of my children, I can assure you ; only for the sake of my children.” gkt this stage, the prisoner was on the very verge of tears, but he was gruffly reminded that ho was not expected to talk gammon, and proceeded to relate his adventures in London. “ I wanted to land at Falmouth,” he said very piteously, “ but the passengers, some first class ones, who were going ashore in a boat, objected to me as a Jonah. You see, the captain had got my history by this time, and was very stern with me. I asked him why I could not be allowed to laud, and he told me that he had agreed to take me to London, and that take me there he would. Well, I got to Loudon all right, and, with a lot of the passengers, was lauded at the West India Docks all right. But when I landed I saw a mau who looked at me suspiciously, as I thought, and followed me. I took a cut, and went down to a coffee-shop in the Mile-end-road, where I had tea, but when I came out another man I did not know was waiting outside, and he, too, followed me. I went about London for a week. I went to the theatres, to the music halls, and to places open only in the small hours of the night, and wherever I went there was some one at my elbow. I went away into the country, down to Shropshire, to see some people I knew there, or who had known me when I was young, and there I found that I was followed. Then, thinking to distract the attention of my trackers, I went back to London. On passing Scotland-yard I saw a man watching me Intently. Keeping an eye on him, I crossed, "and passed within a few feet of him. He, however, took no notice of me, as far as I could see, but a few minutes afterwards I found that I was again followed. I travelled the city that night, south, north, east, and west. I crossed London Bridge with its crowd ; Waterloo-bridge, with its comparative solitude ; but every way I went the footfall of the man who was told off to watch me fell on my ear. I don’t want to tell you that I was frightened, because, to tell you the truth, I never was frightened in my life but once, and how that was I am not going to divulge, but somehow the pitpat of the feet I knew were echoing mine in those busy Loudon streets nearly sent me mad. “You want to know,” said he, after a pause, “ how I came back to Australia. By what means, and by which vessel, I will not tell you. Enough for you that I did not come by the Northumberland, nor did I come by way of Sydney. Lota of people have wanted to know that, but they will never know it. I came and lam here. I came to see my wife, and above all my children, and it is nothing to do with you or anyone else how I came. All I can tell you is that I am here, and that being here I don’t think anyone can send me away from hero if I like to stay.” Here our reporter mildly suggested that he might be sent back to New Zealand, where it was well-known, if once let free, t he had no chance of escape. “As to that,” he replied, “I am prepared to take my chance.” Here, several persons entered the cell in which he was confined, and the conversation ceased. In appearance the man differed very little from what the writer saw of him some seven years since in Dunedin gaol, except that he had grown a moustache .which had been dyed. He wore spectacles during the greater part of his conversation, but kept removing them at times, as if they were irksome to him. When the constable came to him to remove him to the cab waiting at the door, the handcuffs were placed on his wrists, and he laughingly remarked that they were old friends. Placing Ida greatcoat over his wrista so as to disguise the bracelets, he passed out to the cab in waiting, to be met by a torrent, of groans, to which he mildly replied by remarking audibly that he wished he had the in the bush. At the station a crowd was assembled to meet him, and hero also he was received with a perfect delirium of groana, to which lie bowed Ida acknowledgments. Ho was placed in a room for safety, and on his advent thence again received the compliments of the crowd, passing along with a smile for all, and a bow for those nearest him. He was the hero of the hour, and that seemed to gratify his vanity.

A correspondent writes from Wedderburn; —“ Sullivan, since his arrival at Wedderburn, has been boasting how well he has got on since he was let off in New Zealand. According to his account he did not do so bad while under the patronage of the New Zealand authorities, having acted as gaol barber and earning his 10s. per day, and drew as much at a time as £SO. He says he has been to England and France, and made cpiite a tour in the former country.”