FOOTNOTES:
[159] Courier, 1829.
[160] Colquhoun.
[161] Arthur's evidence: Par. Pap.
[162] Gazette, 1825.
[163] Murdoch's evidence: Par. Pap.
[164] Sydney Gazette, 1829.
[165] Bigge's Report.
[166] The 9th Geo. iv. enacted (omitting superfluous words), "That any offender assigned under 5th Geo. iv. shall not be assigned by the master to any other person without the consent of the Governor, who may as shall seem meet revoke such assignment and grant remissions, as may be best adapted to the reformation of offenders, and revoke and renew them as occasion may require, any act of parliament notwithstanding."
SECTION XII
One of the earliest (1824) and chief difficulties of Governor Arthur's administration sprang from an out-break of prisoners at Macquarie Harbour, who divided in their progress, and collected several formidable bands. The efforts to escape from that dreary region had been numerous, but unsuccessful: the unhappy beings who wandered into the woods, found no sustenance, and died either from exhaustion or by the hands of each other; or when they endeavoured to ford the Gordon, and attain by a more direct course the settled districts, they were either drowned or taken. During the first five years, when not more than two hundred were confined there, one hundred ventured on this dangerous enterprise, notwithstanding their ignorance of the route, and the almost certain starvation which awaited them. Prisoners arriving from Hobart Town gave them erroneous tidings respecting the absconders, and delusive hopes of success, and thus the foolish and desperate were prompted to hazard the perils of flight.
The first (1822) adventurers were John Green and Joseph Sanders; never heard of more: six others followed a few days after, and encountered a similar fate. They were pursued by two soldiers and three prisoners, who took with them a fortnight's provision and hunting dogs. The rain continued for seven weeks after their departure, and it was presumed they perished from exhaustion.[167] Another party formed a catamaran, but it parted when they had proceeded a short distance; and they were rescued from its fragments by the soldiers. Eight others left in the following September, and all lost their lives, except Pearce, whose narrative will be noticed hereafter.
At Macquarie Harbour, the first commandant was Lieutenant Cuthbertson, a soldier who had been in eighteen general engagements; yet was glad of an appointment, to supplement the deficiency of his pay. His discipline was severe, but of brief duration. A small vessel, built at the harbour, was in danger, and Cuthbertson ordered out his own boat to its relief; this he effected: on returning, his boat was upset, and all, except two, were drowned. Cuthbertson was thrice raised by one of the crew; but finding his strength unequal to retain his hold, he said, "man, save yourself; never mind me—it is no use." On the death of the commandant, the chief authority devolved on a non-commissioned officer. The prisoners were disposed to question his right to obedience: his government was vigorous, and he flogged with redoubled frequency.[168]
In June, 1824, two parties absconded from Macquarie Harbour: one, consisting of three persons only, who seized the soldiers' boat, provisions, and arms. They proceeded about twelve miles, when they moored the boat to a stump of a tree, and wrote on its stern with chalk, "to be sold:" of this party no tidings were ever heard, and it is supposed that they perished. The second left five days afterwards, and were, for a time, more fortunate. Having resolved to escape, they proposed to capture the barge of commandant Wright; but suspecting their intention, he pushed off before they could reach it, leaving behind the surgeon. This gentleman they threatened to flog, and prepared the instrument of punishment; Brady interposed, and thus began his fatal career by an act of gratitude. He had experienced some kindness from the surgeon when a patient, and forgave his official attendance at the triangles. These men were usually friendly to the doctors: another medical gentleman, afterwards taken prisoner by Brady and his gang, was allowed to retain his lancet, and treated with respect, although robbed of his money. A few days before, he had released one of the party from punishment, by alleging his physical inability. It was thus in the power of the surgeons to favor the prisoners, and to mitigate the sentence of a rigorous magistrate.
The party having obtained a boat, proceeded towards the Derwent, and were pursued by Lucas, the pilot, without success. They left on the 9th, and appeared on the east coast of the Derwent on the 18th June, at the residence of Mr. Mason: having beaten him with great violence and cruelty, they next robbed a servant of Mr. Gunn of fire-arms. They were pursued by this officer, and five were captured. These were instantly placed on their trial, and were desirous of pleading guilty; but courts have always manifested dislike to such evasions of trial, and they retracted, on the persuasion of the chief justice. They attempted to extenuate their crimes by the hardships they had suffered, but in vain.
The advice to a person accused to plead not guilty, though anomalous in its aspect, is yet usually a proper protection to the ignorant and defenceless: such, under an impression of general guilt, might admit an aggravated indictment, and lose the advantage of those distinctions made by legislators on public grounds, between crime and crime; or the executive might delude a prisoner with fallacious hopes of mercy, to prevent the disclosure of extenuating facts to conceal official wrong; while ignorance of the details of a crime, might destroy the moral weight of exemplary punishment.
With these men was executed Alexander Pearce, whose confessions to the priest were, by his consent, published at his death. He formed one of the second party who absconded from Macquarie Harbour (1822). They had planned their escape with considerable skill: one was a sailor, and able to direct their course: they possessed themselves of a boat, and proposed to capture the vessel of the pilot, then laden for town. It was the custom, when a prisoner was missing, to kindle signal fires along the coast, thus giving notice to the sentinels: to prevent such information, the absconders poured water on the embers kept in readiness. This was not effectually done: and thus, when they had proceeded half-a-mile, they saw the smoke rising, and their passage cut off; they therefore landed, destroyed the boat, and entered the bush. They now commenced a course of fatigue and horror: they began to murmur, and then to discuss the terrible alternative of general starvation: two, who overheard the proposition, returned to the settlement, but died almost immediately, from exhaustion. The rest travelled on, lessened at various stages in their course by their fatal necessity, till two only survived; these were, Pearce and Greenhill—the last, the victim. They spent two days and nights watching each other! Greenhill, who laid his axe under his head, to guard against surprise, first slept! Pearce was now alone, and destitute; but at length he came to a fire of the natives, and obtained some fragments of the opossum: at last he reached a flock of sheep, and seized on a lamb, which he proceeded to devour undressed. He was discovered by a stock-keeper, and when he surrendered was received with great kindness and sympathy. His host introduced him to the bushrangers then abroad; but being afterwards captured, he was again forwarded to Macquarie Harbour.
Such suffering might have been expected to overcome all future desire to abscond; yet, in company with Cox, Pearce again left the settlement: they remained several days in the neighbourhood, and then attempted to reach the northern part of the island. Pearce slew his unsuspecting comrade. Horror took possession of his mind; or, despairing to effect his escape, he returned and made signals to the Waterloo, then passing the coast. He confessed his crime, and professed a wish to die.[169]
These cases indicate the rapid process by which the habits of cannibalism are formed: the details of his trial were given in the Gazettes of the period, and are contained in the parliamentary papers; but who could bear to examine the diary of such a journey, or to describe the particulars of those sacrifices which fill the soul with unutterable loathing!
Arrests were constantly made, but did not diminish the number, or daring of new adventurers. Their exploits were contagious: many fled from the employ of government, and the service of settlers, and forfeited their lives after a short career. An instance will show the extent of their operations. By his spies the police magistrate was aware that a large quantity of goods would be offered to a certain person for sale, whom he instructed to purchase, and to pay partly by check and partly in cash. At midnight he surrounded a house in Hobart Town, with soldiers and constables: there he found the men he sought—their arms, their plunder, and the check. They had pillaged the dwelling of Mr. Haywood at the Macquarie, a district rarely free from depredations. One of the robbers was formerly, and a second more lately, in the service of the prosecutor, and a third was a neighbour. They had entered, by pretending to deliver a message, and assaulted both Mr. Haywood and his wife: they fired several shots, and left them with threats. They were promptly tried and executed.
Not long after, the same establishment was visited by Brady: he took but little, and assured the prosecutor he need not fear retaliation, for Broadhead, the leader of the last party, was not a bushranger! Eighteen were taken in one week, but they increased with equal rapidity.
The Governor, baffled by their lengthened defiance of the efforts to quell them, attributed cowardice and corruption with an unsparing bitterness; yet the difficulties even of the well-disposed were great, and they were often ignorant of the movements of the robbers. Their retreats were often in the forests, and known only to themselves; and at some future time property will be detected, the relics of early robbers, who carried with them to the grave the secret of their hidden spoil. Occasionally, the hut of a bushranger has been observed: one, curiously formed, was found by soldiers on the brow of Mount Wellington; and before the door, a salting apparatus. The servants of the Van Diemen's Land Company saw a hut at St. Patrick's Plains, beyond the Great Lake (1826). At a distance it resembled a gigantic fallen tree, and in its centre and side were doors, from which the whole plain could be surveyed and surprise prevented.
The Governor denounced the miserable fear of personal danger—certainly more natural in the bush than the council chamber. Doubtless many, equal to the bravery of an actual conflict, preferred to pay black mail to robbers, rather than risk their sudden inroads and secret vengeance. Nor was it at all certain that a marauder, when captured, would be detained: some broke from their prisons; from Launceston, a band together, who renewed their pillage with increasing diligence. Among others, they attacked the house of Mr. Harrison, and maintained a fire which riddled his premises. These men attempted to fortify themselves by erecting stone fences on the peak of a hill at the Macquarie: there they were surprised and taken. The insecurity of the prisons, and the mode of disposing of respited offenders, made it not unlikely that an officious witness would be called to a future account: thus an old man, who prosecuted a burglar, was visited by the culprit when he returned from Macquarie Harbour; violently beaten, robbed, and threatened with death.
To distinguish these men was no slight difficulty: they often pretended to be constables, and were in possession before the error was discovered. One, still more serious, sometimes happened: thus two constables saw two armed men enter a hut, and approaching challenged them; answer not being promptly given, they fired, and severely wounded both the astonished policemen. Nor were the settlers exempt from such perils. The bushrangers, often well dressed and mounted, made every traveller an object of suspicion: when riding over the Cross Marsh, Mr. Hodgson was challenged by the military stationed there; his motions of recognition they understood as defiance, and fired. To his remonstrances they answered with insolence, and expressed a wish that the shot had proved fatal. On a prosecution the rash soldier was acquitted, no malice being presumed (1826); and the attack was deemed a contingency of colonial life.
Among those whose crimes obtained them the greater notoriety, were Brady, M'Cabe, Jeffries, and Dunne: well mounted upon horses, and armed with muskets, they scoured the colony: murder, pillage, and arson, rendered every homestead the scene of terror and dismay. Those settlers most exposed, often abandoned the business of their farms: their dwellings were perforated with loop-holes, their men were posted as sentinels, and all the precautions adopted, necessary in a state of war. But though not without supporters and accomplices, the bushrangers were in far greater danger of betrayal and capture than at a former period. The settlers, much more numerous, and of a higher class, felt that the suppression of the robbers, or the desertion of the colony, were the only alternatives. Governor Arthur exerted all the powers of government against them. Thus the issue was not long doubtful, although the contest cost many lives.
In July, 1824, a party under James Crawford, appeared on the river, and having robbed the house of Mrs. Smith, they loaded her servants with their plunder, and drove them towards the establishment of Mr. Robert Taylor: meeting his son, they compelled him to bear part of the burden. The family observed the party approach, and armed to meet them. Young Taylor called to his father not to fire; and when he came near his friends, he managed to escape from the robbers: a general skirmish ensued. The young man seeing a piece levelled at his father, seized the assassin by the throat, and pulled him down: this brought a comrade to the robber's assistance: one of the servants became alarmed for young Taylor, and fired; unhappily, the shot was fatal to the youth for whose protection it was intended. The robbers now made their escape, leaving behind, beside two of their companions, their arms and plunder. Governor Arthur addressed a letter of condolence and praise to the sorrowing family: their neighbours expressed admiration of their courage, and presented a piece of plate to them, in testimony of their sympathy and esteem. Their example was exhibited by the Governor to the imitation of the colonists, notwithstanding its terrible issue.
The overseer of Mr. Kemp was met by Brady and his party, and taken to his master's house; there he was ordered to gain admission, which he did by answering the challenge of his employer: the bushrangers having possession, robbed the house, in the presence of seven assigned servants and two free persons. Yet it was not a small risk to begin the melée; and it was not reasonable to expect men, in their civil condition, to hazard life to protect the property of a master, for whom, perhaps, they did not entertain much love. Thus the settlers could not always depend upon their men: many of whom saw, with pleasure, the vengeance inflicted on masters who had sometimes procured their punishment; and, partly by sympathy and partly by fear, they were deterred from rendering effectual assistance. Three men, with blackened faces, visited the residence of Captain Allison at Sandy Bay: he met them with uncommon courage, but was struck down and beaten; he appealed to his servants, who only muttered a reply to his calls for aid. Mrs. Allison joined her entreaties, when at length an atrocious woman (Hannah Bell, afterwards notorious) said to the robbers, in a tone of sarcasm,—"Come men, don't kill him quite out."
One of their most daring exploits was the taking of the town of Sorell, and the capture of the gaol. They entered the premises of Mr. Bethune, of which they kept possession until dusk on the following evening. Two gentlemen, who arrived there during the day, they detained: they stripped them of their clothing, and tendered the prisoner dress in exchange; this being, however, declined, one of the gentlemen wore no other covering than a blanket. These, and others, eighteen in number, they compelled to accompany them to Sorell. A party of soldiers, who had been employed in pursuit all the day, and who were worn out with fatigue, while cleaning their guns, were surprised in the gaol. Brady locked them up in a cell, and offered liberty to the prisoners he found there; one of whom, who was charged with a capital offence, for which he was afterwards executed, declined the opportunity to escape. The gaoler hastened to inform Lieutenant Gunn, who was in the neighbourhood, and thus prepared for the arrival of the robbers: while raising his arm, he received a shot above the elbow, which rendered amputation necessary. This officer had been employed in the pursuit of the marauders for a considerable time, and his gigantic stature, courage, and energy, rendered his name formidable: he received from the public a valuable present, and a pension from the colonial fund.
The roads were infested, and communication was dangerous: travellers were arrested and tied to trees; and sometimes, though not frequently, treated with cruelty. To preserve their property, the settlers resorted to concealment and stratagem: among the rest, the contrivance and coolness of an old woman, merits remembrance, who knowing that the robbers were on the road provided a paper of blank notes, which she delivered to them, and thus saved a considerable sum, the result of her marketing.
Their close pursuit at length filled them with a spirit of mischief, and they perpetrated various acts of cruelty and wanton devastation. Among their most ordinary pleasantries, was forcing the people of an establishment to drink to drunkenness: thus their recollection became confused; they could not follow, and the robbers enjoyed the scene of their helpless intoxication. They held a pistol to a servant of Mr. Hance, of the river Plenty, and compelled him to drink a large quantity of rum: they then led him off the farm and left him. He was discovered some time after by a shepherd, his dog fondly licking his face: when raised up, he called for water, and died. Inflammation caused mortification of the intestines;—the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel! Not content with pillage, they destroyed the wool of three years' clip, the corn stacks, and the barns on the establishment of Mr. Lawrence, by fire. Several other settlers experienced similar visitations. The Governor issued a proclamation, five hundred copies of which were scattered through the colony. He threatened with death all persons who might afford them countenance. He offered rewards to a large amount: for every bushranger mentioned in the notice one hundred guineas, or three hundred acres of land; or to prisoners, money and a free pardon, whether directly or indirectly engaged in the capture; and to the chief constable in whose district the robber should be taken, one hundred acres. He complained that sufficient energy and co-operation had not been employed, and called upon the magistrates and other persons to combine for the liberation of the country. He himself resolved to fix his residence at Jericho, to direct the operations; and the inhabitants of Hobart Town formed themselves into a guard, that thus the soldiers and constabulary might be wholly employed in this important service. The robbers, however, being mounted, were enabled to move with considerable rapidity, and carried on their depredations in every part of the island.
By acts of wantonness and vengeful barbarity, they intended to intimidate the prisoners. They called Thomas Preston from his hut, on the South Esk, and deliberately shot him. They took Captains White and Smith prisoners: the last, they made to kneel—their usual preparation for murder; but were induced to spare his life, by the intercession of his companion, who appealed to their humanity on behalf of his wife and children! They endeavoured to capture the Glory, belonging to one of these gentlemen; but finding the wind unfavorable, they relinquished that purpose. While Brady was on a hill, watching that vessel, a confederate escaped, intending to betray them to Colonel Balfour: one of the party, stationed as sentinel, was tried by a sort of court martial, for permitting his elopement; he was shot, and flung into the Tamar. They sent word that they would visit Launceston gaol, carry off Jeffries, and put him to death. Their message was of course treated with contempt, but they landed and advanced to the residence of Mr. Dry, who was then entertaining a number of his friends. The banditti plundered the house, and were packing up their booty when Colonel Balfour, to whom a messenger had been dispatched, arrived with ten soldiers and surrounded the house: the robbers retreated to the back part of the premises, and fired into the rooms. It was dark, and when the firing ceased, they were supposed to have retreated. The colonel, with four of his men, hastened to protect the town, to which a division of the robbers had been sent by Brady. As soon as he departed, some of the party again showed themselves: Dr. Priest joined Mr. Theodore Bartley, and the remaining soldiers; unfortunately, his clothing being partly white, enabled the robbers to take aim. His horse was shot dead: he himself received a musket ball, which wounded him above his knee; and refusing to submit to amputation he lost his life.
Exasperated by these crimes, the whole country rose against them: they were sought in every quarter. The settlers, and soldiers scattered over the colony, at the first notice of their appearance, were prepared to follow them. The Governor himself took the field, and infused vigour into the pursuit; and in less than a month the chief robbers were in the hands of justice. Brady, wounded in the leg, was overtaken by the soldiers, and surrendered without a struggle. With Jeffries, he was conveyed to Hobart Town. A large crowd assembled to see robbers, who were admired for their boldness by many, as much as they were detested for their crimes.
The most ferocious of the bushrangers was Jeffries: he obtained his reprieve in Scotland, to act as executioner.[170] Being transported to this country, he was employed as a scourger, and thus trained to cruelty, entered the bush. He robbed the house of Tibbs, a small settler, and after wounding, compelled him, with his wife, to proceed to the forest. The woman carried her infant: Jeffries was disturbed by its cries; perhaps, fearful that the sound might conduct his pursuers. He took the child from the arms of its mother and dashed out its brains against a tree! When captured, he was taken to Launceston, where the people, exasperated by his unusual guilt, were scarcely restrained, from summary vengeance, by the presence of a strong guard. While in prison he made sketches of his murders, and wrote memoirs of his life! His countenance was an index of his character. Not so with Brady; who, though guilty of heavy crimes, pretended to something like magnanimity: he was drawn into the plan to escape, contrary to his own judgment, and then said the die was cast. His robberies were skilfully planned and deliberately executed: he often restored such articles as the sufferers specially valued. To every indictment he pleaded guilty: it was thought in contempt of justice; but certainly in the full conviction that it was useless to expect either mercy or acquittal.
An instance of his persevering vengeance, which rests on the authority of a magistrate, may be worth remembering. A man, who had been a confederate, determined to entrap him: Brady on approaching his hut felt a presentiment of treachery; but at length was persuaded to advance. The constables were in ambush: they fired, and both himself and his companion were arrested. Brady, wounded, was left bound in the hut with his betrayer, while the constables conducted his comrade to a place of confinement. He now requested to lie on the bed, and that a kangaroo rug might be thrown over him: this done, he disentangled his arms and asked for water. The guard laid aside his gun to procure it; this Brady seized, and in his turn became captor. While bound, he reproached the man for his perfidy, who said that he could but die; and that there was neither God nor devil! But being now in Brady's power, he fell upon his knees, and prayed him, for God's sake, to spare his life. Brady reminded him, that he had just said, "there was no God;" but added, that the report of the gun might give warning of the state of affairs. He bade him beware of their next meeting, and departed. Afterwards, in company with his gang, he met this man, and holding a pistol to his head, told him to say his prayers: the man, finding remonstrance useless, coolly placed his head against the door of the hut, and said, "fire!" and was shot dead.
Permission being given for prisoners to unite with the bushrangers, to betray them, men in irons left the town secretly, joined the gang, and gave intelligence to the police. This manœuvre was soon worn out. A prisoner, who escaped from gaol, desired to join them in good faith; but believing him a decoy, the gang adjudged him to suffer death. He was compelled to drink a quantity of laudanum: they then left him; but his stomach rejected the drug, and after a sound sleep he recovered. He again met Brady and his gang: two pistols were discharged at him: he fell, and was left for dead; but the wound was not mortal, and reviving he determined to deliver himself up. He was, however, again unfortunate: he met Brady and his companions once more, who again fired; but the bullet, instead of entering the skull, glanced round it. He fell senseless to the ground, and was thrown into a dry creek; he, however, recovered, and long survived these adventures.[171] The high authority on which this anecdote rests, is quite necessary to suppress the question of its truth.
During two years ending with 1826, one hundred and three persons suffered death, being 3 8-15ths in proportion to one thousand of the population: more than in Great Britain. He who looks at these statistics alone, will conclude not only that the people were wicked, but that the government was cruel. At one sitting of the court thirty-seven persons were sentenced to death; and of these, twenty-three were executed in the course of a fortnight: nine suffering together, and fourteen others on two days closely following. A sacrifice of life so unusual, could only be justified by the peculiar circumstances of the colony, and the character of the criminals; and the notions which then prevailed respecting the punishment of death.
We are forcibly reminded of a passage in Lord Coke:—"If a man could see all the Christians, that in one year come to that untimely and ignominious death—if there were any spark or grain of charity in him, it would make his heart bleed!" The extreme pains taken to reconcile the unfortunate beings to their lot; the assiduity of the clergy to make up, by the assurance of divine mercy, the inexorable fate which awaited them; proved that these awful slaughters were onerous to the colonial conscience, and vindicable only as the last resort of the last necessity. The Governor must be acquitted of great blame. A discussion, of considerable warmth, arose (1825-6) on an address being presented from fifty persons, who complained of the delays of justice on bushrangers already condemned. The gaol was crowded, and the prisoners seemed not unlikely to escape: several did actually break out of prison. This memorial was transmitted by the government to the chief justice, who, while he disdained giving reasons to the colony, vindicated his court: the magistrates neglected the depositions; the attorney-general the indictments, and the jury their summons. He had sat in a silent court until ashamed, while prisoners awaited deliverance. He had often felt disposed to discharge them; some of whom were detained longer for trial than for punishment. He could not perceive how the delay of execution could facilitate the evasion of capture by those at large. In transmitting this reply, Arthur took occasion to refer to the colonial press, supported by several of the memorialists, as largely implicated with the crimes of the bushrangers. He traced, with some artifice, the violence of the robbers to political dissensions, as inspiriting men who easily confounded "the liberty of writing and the liberty of acting." To be satisfied that the Governor did not seize an occasion of rebuke, rather than account for a public misfortune, is difficult; and not less, to sympathise with the petitioners. It is common for private individuals to deprecate the severities of public justice, but the awful state of the colony must be admitted, when fifty persons, among its most opulent and even humane inhabitants, were anxious to hasten the offices of the executioner.
The ignorant and brutal among the prisoners rushed into violence and crime, with a recklessness of life scarcely credible. Not less than one hundred were in arms at that time:[172] most of them were absconders from the various penal stations, and had exhausted all those forms of severity which stopped short of the scaffold. Of seventy-three sentenced together, nine were for sheep-stealing, four for forgery, five for murder, and twelve for robbery; besides four for the offence known in gaols under the name of blanketing, who were ordered for execution—a punishment which was commuted, being even then thought too severe for a theft committed in gaol. They threw over the man whom they robbed a blanket, and raised loud outcries; and in this form effected their design.
A few of the cases tried on this occasion, will better illustrate the condition of the colony than any general description. The murderers of Alexander Simpson, a settler at Pittwater, pillaged his shop, where he was accustomed to sleep for the protection of his property: his body was found in the river, decapitated, and his flesh torn from his bones; in many places literally bare. On closer examination, the mark of a cord was observed round his neck, which probably occasioned his death. The mangling of his body was intended to destroy the proof of identity: no marks or signs of struggling were visible, nor was the head discovered. One of the murderers dropped an expression, from which guilt was inferred. Suspicion was directed to several of the neighbours: articles, such as the deceased possessed, were found in their dwelling, wet; others were discovered in a house adjoining the deceased's, also wet; the accused were seen together, on the night of the murder. Twenty-two witnesses gave evidence to facts, all of a circumstantial nature; but sufficient to secure a verdict against them. This crime was considered but a type of many, committed in a neighbourhood, the traditions of which furnish many a tale of blood.
Among those who suffered death, were several whose captors acquired considerable reputation for their courage. Three were taken by Lucas, the pilot, assisted by a man and a boy, to whom they surrendered with arms in their hands: they had just before committed a robbery at the house of Mr. Holdship. On his defence, one of their number told the judge, that whatever might be law, he himself could not consider that to hold a pistol at the head was to offer violence! Several others belonged to a party which had escaped from Maria Island, a new penal settlement. On their landing, they advanced to the house of Mr. Gatenby, and were seen approaching by his son, who took up his gun and went out to meet them: he called upon their leader to lay down his arms, which he answered by a discharge. Mr. Gatenby returned the shot, which proved mortal. The companions of the robber endeavoured to carry him off; but finding this useless, they retreated, and re-appeared at the premises of Mr. James Robertson, on the South Esk, whose lands, and those of his assigned servants, they tied, excepting one who was lame. Mr. W. Gray coming up on horseback, they made prisoner, and bound him in a similar manner. The leader of the robbers mounted his horse, while the rest guarded the gentlemen and servants, and marched them on towards the river. Mr. Gray disengaged his arm, and by a signal seized one bushranger, while the lame man assailed another. Mr. Robertson also released himself, and got possession of the guns. The robbers were overpowered: one only escaped, but was captured the following day.
The Governor was not slow to acknowledge these instances of gallantry. The courage of the masters, and the fidelity of their men, were held up to the colony as brilliant examples, and to the robbers as a proof that persons of the same civil condition had no sympathy with their crimes; that their career would be short, and their capture certain. Tickets-of-leave were granted to the men, with a promise of full freedom, as a reward of one year's service in the field police. The Government Gazette observed, that such presence of mind and personal bravery, in another age would have entitled the captors to armorial bearings; they, however, received donations of land, perhaps not less valuable in this meridian.
Amongst others who received a reprieve, was William Kerr, convicted of forging, in the name of the chief justice, an ingenious device, which, if it did not preserve him from conviction, perhaps rescued him from a severer fate. He was advanced in years, and said to be a near relative of the Earl of Roxborough, and a brother to Lord Kerr. In gaol, he was conspicuous for his zeal in attempting the instruction of his fellow prisoners, performing the office of chaplain in the absence of a better! These unfortunate beings were placed together in cells, too narrow to allow retirement or freedom from interruption: their attempts at escape, once or twice nearly successful, rendered it necessary to load them with irons. The time of execution was fixed, ere they wholly despaired of liberty. There was not, however, deficiency of clerical attention: Mr. Corvosso, the wesleyan minister, joined with Messrs. Bedford and Knopwood, in this awful task.
Large crowds assembled to witness the first execution; but when the novelty was over, the interest subsided. The last assembly was more select: in the description given by Dr. Ross, we seem rather to read of a martyrdom than an expiation. They came forth, he observed, with countenances unappalled: the light of truth rendered that ignominious morning the happiest of their lives. They prayed in succession, in a devout and collected manner: one in particular, with a countenance serene and placid, expressing his thanks to the chief justice for his impartial trial; and to the Governor for rejecting his petition for life. In this tranquil frame they submitted to the executioner. The spectators were affected to tears: the officers and clergymen, overpowered, hurried from the scene: the criminals died, as they were singing—
"The hour of my departure's come,
I hear the voice that calls me home;
Oh, now my God, let troubles cease,
And let thy servant die in peace."
About this time Dunne, the bushranger, was executed: he attained a considerable distinction by his crimes; more, by his protracted evasion of pursuit, and his sanguinary resistance of capture; and still more, by the ceremonies of his execution and the honors of his funeral. He came forth to the scaffold, arrayed in a robe of white, adorned, both before and behind, with a large black cross. He wore a cap with a similar token, and carried a rosary in his hand. He was presented with a coffin of cedar, ornamented with the devices of innocence and sorrow; and bearing a plate, which told his name and the time of his death! As he advanced, with several youthful fellow sufferers (of whom it is only said, that they seemed much terrified), he continued to exclaim, smiting his breast with theatrical expression of grief—"O, Lord, deliver us!" He was followed by forty couples to the grave. Such were the honors paid to a murderer. It is not astonishing, that witnesses were insulted, and had to appeal for protection. A proposition was made by the government newspaper, to render penal the taunts which prisoners were accustomed to use against such as assisted in the suppression of outrage.
The public effect of these exhibitions will be extremely questionable by sober-minded and pious men. To see a criminal depart from this life in a hardened and contemptuous spirit is, indeed, appalling; but the serenity, and even rapture, thus common when terminating a career of guilt and cruelty, often entered into the calculation of transgressors. Among the miserable forms of vanity, is the triumph of boasting penitence; and even when nothing else remains, the eclât of a public execution. Some were anxious to commit to writing their own last confessions of guilt, to secure a posthumous interest in the terror or pity of mankind.[173] The fullest appreciation of that system of mercy, which never separates religious hope from the living, would scarcely justify confidence, founded on such demeanour and language between the cell and the scaffold.
Scarcely had this scene closed, when the prisoners in the penitentiary, allured by the prospect of escape, broke through the gaol, and seized a boat: as they approached the Emma Kemp, a premature display of muskets convinced them that their plan was discovered. It was, indeed, known by the officers of the gaol prior to their departure; who, calculating on their arrest, permitted the consummation of their plans. This cost them their lives: they retreated to the shore, robbed Mr. Mortimer of eight stand of arms, and commenced their career as bushrangers. They were evidently unwilling adventurers, and soon taken. The Governor, at their execution, compelled the attendance of the prisoners, in the fallacious belief that the sight would prove admonitory as well as terrible.
Several were mere youths: their obituary, furnished by the indefatigable chronicler of executions, Dr. Ross, is not without interest. There was Dunhill, six feet three inches high and handsome, a frequent attendant at criminal courts; whose father was a prisoner for life, and whose family, once the terror of Yorkshire, were mostly transported or executed. There was Child, the son of a Bristol merchant, who, as the rope was adjusting, said, "I know I shall go to heaven!" There was a Scotch boy, who sang as he went; but said he was ruined in the penitentiary. Another had driven his mother to self destruction.
Nine men were executed towards the close of the following year, for the murder of a constable, named George Rex, at Macquarie Harbour: their leader, James Lacy, a person of considerable talent, was saved on a former occasion by the mediation of the Rev. W. Bedford, who represented that to Lacy's influence a settler owed his life. Having planned an escape, they seized the constable; and having bound and gagged some fellow prisoners, whom they rejected as accomplices, they took Rex and pushed him into the water, and held down his head until life was extinct. They then formed a raft, but it was insufficient to convey them: three only landed on the main, and were pursued and retaken. The sole witnesses summoned against them were prisoners, who prevaricated in their testimony; but the presence of surgeon Barnes supplied the evidence they thought proper to conceal, and insured the conviction. At the close of the trial, Lacy leaned over the bar and said, "had it not been for you, doctor, we should have pulled through."
Lacy was conspicuous in the press-yard for his fervour, and delivered an animated warning to the multitude, who were drawn together to witness an unusual sacrifice of life at one drop! Dr. Ross, who still endeavoured to rally round the scaffold some special interest, gave an artistic description of their end; but he was astonished to observe how the sufferers themselves were but little affected, and the spectators less. He mourned over the unmeaning countenances of the mob, who felt little but curiosity when they saw them step from the full bloom of life to the grave! Nor was it perceived by that zealous defender of lenity, when the government was lenient, and of the severity, when the government was severe, that the execution of nine persons for an act, in which three only actually participated, or perhaps contemplated, could only be possible among such a people. It is rather a matter of exultation, that there is a limit, beyond which executions become the dullest of all entertainments. At that time no one would have thought a single sufferer worth a glance of the eye.
It is remarked, that the most notorious of these offenders were rather prepossessing, except that their looks, by long residence in the bush, had acquired an air of wildness. The indicative theories of Lavater were negatived by the usual aspect of these crowds of victims; but the most impatient of penal restraint, have been not only violent and corrupt, but often of resolute and generous dispositions; often possessing the elements of a mental character, which, had it not been perverted by crime, might have been distinguished for the energy of virtue. On the primary treatment of such men, everything depends; and their first master determined whether they were to become active and intelligent agriculturists, or by pernicious indulgence, and not less ill-judged severity, to pass rapidly, by a reckless and resentful temper, from the triangle to the scaffold.
Such severe exhibitions of penal vengeance were intended to crush the insurgent spirit; to prove to the prisoners that any forms of combination or resistance would be followed by severer suffering. The re-action of that excitement assisted the future success of discipline. It convinced the masters that a neglected or careless management was equally pernicious. But the natives, also became objects of terror: the outlaw could not wander far without risk from their spears, or hover near the settled districts without encountering the roving parties employed in their pursuit. Thus the ravages of white men almost wholly ceased, during the conflict with the aboriginal tribes: the constables and the blacks together beat up the quarters of absconders.
But the precautions of the government were more effectual than its severity. Hitherto many had lived at large. At night their own masters; when not seduced by more serious temptations, their drunkenness exposed them to the lash; and dread or resentment precipitated them into open crime. In 1827, the enlargement of the penitentiary, and its better order, enabled the government to recall from private dwellings those least worthy of trust; and to make the indulgence of a home a reward for orderly and industrious habits. The prisoners employed by the crown were divided into seven classes. Some were permitted to labor one day weekly for their own advantage: these were the mechanics, who were detained only because they were artisans; others, on the roads, were allowed half that time, and by great exertions often obtained very considerable sums. The rest were in irons, or sent to the penal settlement under a magisterial sentence.
The fate of many who had suffered death was traced by the Governor to the imprudence and guilty connivance of the masters, or to the irregular methods of payment long interdicted by the crown; such as cattle, allotments, or a portion of time. The executive council professed to follow up these evils through every stage of their growth, until they were finally consummated on the scaffold.[174] During twenty years they had been often condemned; but they were not extinguished until the market was enlarged, and labor became scarce—so much do moral questions depend on material revolutions.
The distribution of servants was made with more prudence, and some reference to their previous habits and mode of life; and a stand was opposed to the sole superintendence of prisoner overseers, who were often the occasion of unjust punishments and criminal laxity. The impounding laws gradually cut off another occasion of mischief. Heretofore, large herds of cattle were under the charge of prisoner herdsmen, who were armed with guns. The wild and exciting employment exposed the men to many temptations: their daring spirit and fearless riding, rendered them objects of admiration; and created discontent in the minds of prisoners who were tied down to the more quiet labor of a farm. Of eight men employed by Mr. Lord, a wealthy colonist, five suffered death for various crimes.[175] Such persons lived remote from the civilised community and the inspection of their employers: often the channel of communication between the town receivers and country thieves; nor this alone. The large herds wandering far beyond the limits of the settled country, and without a recognised owner, suggested to the discontented servant a resource, and led him to abscond where he could subsist on the flesh of slaughtered spoil.