An Escape from Norfolk Island; Stealing a Government Boat; The Convicts of New South Wales; A Terrible Indictment; Thomas Willmore; Murder of Philip Alger; Murder of Malachi Daly; Fight between two Bushrangers; Hunting down Willmore; His Capture while Asleep; The Last of the Van Diemen's Land Bushrangers; Wilson and Dido; Some Minor Offenders; An Unfounded Charge; Change of Name to Rid the Island of Evil Associations.
The rush of men of all sorts from all parts of the world to the great goldfields of Victoria, although it no doubt attracted the majority of the desperate characters from the neighbouring colonies, did not entirely free them from bushrangers. It is necessary, therefore, to devote our attention to these, and Norfolk Island claims first place. On March 15th, 1853, a few months before the penal settlement on the island was finally broken up, a number of convicts were employed in loading the store ship Lord Auckland. The ship lay off in the roads, and the goods were taken out to her in boats rowed by convicts, under the charge of soldiers. One boat, manned by the convicts Dennis Griffiths, James Clegg, Thomas Clayton, Robert Mitchell, Joseph Davis, Patrick Cooper, Jeremiah O'Sullivan, John Naisk, and "Ginger," was on its way to the ship with a load. When it was at about a quarter of a mile from the shore the convicts suddenly rose up, rushed the soldiers, and threw them overboard. No other boat was near, and this gave the convicts the opportunity they had been looking for. One constable was left on board, and Bordmore, the coxswain, seized the gunwale of the boat and held on. The convicts resumed their oars and pulled as hard as they could, but as Bordmore refused to let go, and stopped the way of the boat, he was taken on board again and set to his old work of steering. He was, however, ordered on pain of death to steer for the main land. On April 11th they reached Stradbroke Island, off Moreton Bay, but in taking the boat through the surf she stranded. The men on board, however, all got safely on shore. The constable and coxswain, with convict Mitchell, were left near the landing-place while the other eight walked along the coast to seek for food, of which they were much in need. They found the hut of Ferdinand Gonzales, a fisherman, and tried to induce him to lend them his boat to take them to the mainland. They represented themselves as having been shipwrecked, but Gonzales did not believe them, and refused to trust them with his boat. They went away, and Gonzales walked to where they had said their boat had been capsized to ascertain whether their story was true or not, and during his absence they returned, stripped his hut of all that was eatable or of value, and stole his boat. They pulled round the coast out of sight, and then sent Clegg and Griffiths to fetch the constable and the others, but the two officers had in the meantime secured Mitchell, and now arrested Clegg and Griffiths. The other six runaways waited for a time, and then started for the mainland. On the Monday following a fisherman named Thomas Duffy went from the mainland to the island, and he consented to land the constable, the coxswain, and their three prisoners at Moreton Bay, from whence they marched to Brisbane, where the prisoners were lodged in gaol. In a few days complaints of robberies having been committed along the coast were received, and the Customs boat, with six armed constables on board, was despatched to capture the runaways. They were told to call at Cleveland Point to pick up the Chief Constable, who had gone to the coast by land. When near the mouth of the Brisbane River, on passing a patch of scrub, the constables suddenly became aware that another boat was alongside, and that they were threatened by six men armed with pistols. This completely turned the tables. The constables were compelled to hold up their hands, and were towed into the scrub, where they were forced to land and strip. The convicts took the constables' clothes and gave them their own rags in exchange, and then, having made them get into Gonzales' old boat, ordered them to "be off." There was nothing else to be done, and the would-be captors returned to Brisbane as rapidly as they could, only to be arrested as the runaways. However, they soon established their identity, and were released. In the meantime the runaways, being decently dressed and having a first-class boat, pulled to the barque Acacia, which was lying at the mouth of the river waiting for the mails, before beginning her voyage to Sydney. They told their old story about being shipwrecked mariners, and were believed and invited on board, where they were hospitably feasted. The constables were blamed for not having given notice to the vessels lying at the mouth of the river, of the fact that these convicts were at large, but they had not yet reached that part of the river when they were captured themselves, and if they had gone to these vessels in Gonzales' battered boat and in the tattered raiment of the runaways, they would not only not have been believed, but might have been detained or sent to Brisbane as the runaways they resembled. It was a very trying and difficult position in which they were placed. When the convicts left the Acacia where they had been so well entertained, they pulled to the house of Mr. Watson, the chief pilot, and robbed him of provisions, a gold watch and chain, and about £40 in money. They stove in his boat to prevent him from going to the mainland to report, but left him a bottle of rum out of his store to "keep his spirits up a bit." Mr. Watson, however, managed, when they had gone away, to patch up his boat so as to enable him to cross the narrow strait which separated Pilot Island from the mainland, and very soon several boats, manned by constables and volunteers, were searching the scrubs and islands near the mouth of the river in hopes of being able to capture the runaways. On May 12th, Eugene Lucette was rowing near the mouth of the river, when he discovered the stolen Customs Officer's boat among the mangrove bushes. He towed the boat up the river and restored it to its proper owners. Mr. W.A. Duncan, J.P., Mr. Shendon (the customs officer), Mr. Sneyd (the chief constable), and a party of the water police-constables started in pursuit. They had some black trackers with them, and these soon found a camp among the mangroves where the convicts had recently been staying. The tracks were patiently followed by the blacks for some distance, and at length the party was found near the Cleveland Road, about eight miles from Brisbane. They were in a very weak condition, having had no food, they said, for four days, and were easily captured. They had tried to make a living by bushranging along the coast, having landed at several points and robbed the few settlers there were there then. At Wide Bay they had come on a large camp of natives who appeared so hostile that the convicts had been afraid to land, and had therefore worked their way back to Moreton Bay with the intention of going up the country to look for work, as they were tired of living by robbery. They had a number of watches and other articles of value, two guns and two pistols, all loaded. They were tried on two charges, viz:—stealing the Customs Officer's boat, the property of Her Majesty, &c., and stealing a boat belonging to Ferdinand Gonzales, fisherman, and were convicted. They were sentenced to fifteen years' penal servitude.
These men had been sent to Norfolk Island for bushranging and other crimes committed in Van Diemen's Land, and therefore had nothing to do with New South Wales until they landed at Moreton Bay as escapees. Griffiths, Clegg, and Mitchell were sent back to the island in charge of the constable and coxswain who had captured them, and who were officials under Mr. John Price, Commandant of the island. The six convicted of stealing the Government boat at Brisbane were not retransported to the island, but were accommodated in the gaol at Moreton Bay.
It may be as well to state here that transportation to New South Wales ceased in 1841, and only two vessels conveying convicts reached that colony afterwards. These conveyed some prisoners who were supposed to be reformed characters, and were known in Australia as "Pentonvillains," from the name of the Reformatory in London through which they had passed. They were sent out in consequence of an agitation on the part of the wealthier settlers for the revival of transportation, but so much indignation was aroused among the mass of the colonists that no further attempts of that kind were made. The agitation was supported by the Governor, Sir Charles A. Fitzroy, who said in his despatch to Earl Grey, that "out of about 60,000 persons transported hither, 38,000 are reformed and respectable members of the community. Of the residue, deaths and departures from the colony will account for the greater part; and I am enabled to state that only 372 out of the whole are now undergoing punishment of any kind." At the date of this despatch, January 6, 1850, the colony of New South Wales included the whole of the eastern side of Australia, Victoria being then the Port Phillip District, and Queensland the Moreton Bay District of this colony. The southern portion, or Port Phillip District, was erected into an independent colony about a year later, and I have dealt with the bushranging there during the gold digging era. In New South Wales robberies were also very frequent, although the condition of the colony was never so desperate as that of Victoria. In August, 1853, the Bathurst Free Press said:—"For some time past the neighbourhood of King's Plains has been adding to a murderous notoriety.... There bloodshed in its most awful shape, murder, appears to be reduced to a science, and the stereotyped phrase 'Murder will out' has lost its meaning. An unfortunate old man, remarkable for nothing so much as his hospitality, is slaughtered like a sheep and deposited under a heap of stones.... Some fifteen years have rolled over his grave, his death is still enveloped in mystery. A woman in the prime of life is shot dead in her house; the walls being bespattered with her blood. A helpless old shepherd ... who had excited the cupidity or revenge of some miscreant, is discovered in the bush, so cut, bruised, mangled, and disfigured that words are wanting to describe the tigrish bloodthirstiness of the murderer.... A resident of Bathurst ... starts for that bloodstained region one day in perfect health, ... and the only evidence of him, living or dead, are the merest fragments of calcined bones ... and a few hairs which have been pronounced to be those of a human being."
The indictment was a terrible one and was no doubt true, and the paper was perfectly justified in urging the Government to make more strenuous efforts to stamp out bushranging. Nevertheless the murders spoken of here belong to a bygone age, the perpetrators having probably been attracted, like the majority of their class, to the Victorian goldfields. That was the focus to which all such enterprising scoundrels were drawn, and there the majority met the fate they so richly deserved. A few robberies were committed on the roads in the Bathurst district and in other parts of the colony, but the greatest number of such crimes took place in the Manaro district and along the road leading to Victoria. The only bushranger in New South Wales who became notorious at this time was Thomas Willmore. He had been under butler to a gentleman in England, and at the age of fourteen was transported to "Botany Bay," for having stolen a number of silver spoons and other plate from his employer. He was first sent to Pentonville and was then sent to the colony as a reformed character, being among the last of the English convicts sent to New South Wales, where he and his companions were known as "Earl Grey's pets." He was granted a ticket-of-leave soon after landing and was assigned as servant to a settler in the Wellington district. Soon after reaching the place he quarrelled with a fellow servant and fired a pistol at him. The bullet struck a button and glanced off, and the man escaped, while Willmore, to avoid a trial, took to the bush. He gained a living by highway robbery for some months. One day he met Philip Alger, near Tomandra, on the Big River. Alger was riding a very fine horse and Willmore claimed it as one which had been stolen from him, and for which he said he had offered a reward. He demanded that the horse should be given to him at once. Alger swore he had purchased the horse honestly, and from a man whom he knew, and declined to part with it. Willmore ended the dispute summarily by drawing a pistol and shooting Alger in the stomach. Willmore was aware that Alger had a considerable quantity of gold on him, as the man had foolishly shown it in a hut where both had lodged during the previous night; but Willmore did not search the body and the gold was found on it when it was discovered. He seems to have been satisfied with the horse. He mounted it and rode towards Wellington. At Montefiore he bargained with Malachi Daly for a cart, offering for it a quantity of gold dust, which he had no doubt stolen from some other victim, in exchange. They could not come to an agreement, but continued their journey towards Wellington together the next day. At about nine miles from Wellington on the road to the Big River the road goes down a very steep hill, and both men dismounted to lead their horses down. Daly was just starting when Willmore stepped before him, pistol in hand, and demanded his money and gold. Daly protested that he had left it at his hut, and Willmore called him a "liar." They disputed for a few minutes, and then Willmore shot Daly through the head. On searching the body Willmore found only thirty shillings and a deposit receipt for £11, which was of no value to any one except the depositor. Later on Willmore boasted that he got £40 from Daly; but, in his last confession, he said he had only asserted that he had found £40 on Daly's body because he did not wish it to be known that he had "killed a man for thirty bob." Willmore was only just riding away from where Daly's body was lying when he was ordered to bail up by another bushranger. Instead of complying with this request Willmore drew his pistol and fired, both men shooting at the same time. Willmore's horse bolted, and ran for some considerable distance before he could pull him up. When he had once more brought him under control Willmore wheeled his horse round, and galloped back to the scene of the encounter. He tracked his late opponent for a mile or more. He felt certain that he had not missed, and expected to find the body lying somewhere in the bush. Gradually he became convinced that he had been mistaken, and that the bushranger had escaped, and gave up the search, feeling "very sorry" that he had not fired straighter. During the following three or four weeks he stuck up and robbed a number of people on the roads between Wellington and Mudgee, until at length it was resolved at a public meeting to hunt him down. A large party assembled by appointment, and this was divided into several smaller bands, each of which was to travel through the district by a specified route, and all were to meet again at a certain time and place and report. One party, under the leadership of Mr. Cornish, got on his track and followed it for two days. On the third day they discovered him asleep on Ponto Island in the Macquarie River, where he had made a camp among the scrub. He was conveyed to Bathurst, tried and convicted of murder and hung. Great satisfaction was expressed at his capture having been effected without further loss of life, and Mr. Cornish and the men under him were highly complimented for the skill they had shown in tracking him to his lair and their caution in effecting his capture without waking him, as it was highly improbable that he would have surrendered without a fight, and his skill and coolness were such as to make it almost certain that one man at least would have been shot. In reporting his trial the Sydney Morning Herald compared him with "that monster Lynch," and congratulated the colony on having got rid of "such a savage."
In Van Diemen's Land the interregnum between the two bushranging eras was shorter than in New South Wales. In fact, in spite of the assertion that bushranging had been suppressed with the breaking up of the Cash and Kavanagh gang, robberies took place occasionally with only short intervals between them. As a rule, however, there was nothing very remarkable in them, and only a few seem worthy of notice here. On February 19th, 1846, Henry Ford and Henry Smart stuck up and robbed a small farmer named Robert Stonehouse, on the Tamar River. They then compelled Stonehouse, under threats, to accompany them to the next farm and call out his neighbour, John Joynes. When Joynes opened the door the bushrangers rushed in. They tied Joynes and Stonehouse and ransacked the house, taking everything of value. When they left they walked along the road and robbed every one they met. On March 5th they went to Mr. Philip Oakden's house and rang the bell. Mr. Oakden went to the door and was immediately confronted with a gun and ordered to stand. Mr. Oakden informed the robbers that Mrs. Oakden was very ill and requested them not to make a noise. He said he would give them all he had in the house if they would go quietly and not alarm his sick wife. He gave them three £1 notes and some silver. The robbers insisted on going in and searching the drawers for jewellery, but took nothing. They then asked Mr. Oakden for his gold watch. He gave it to them and they left, taking Mr. Oakden with them. They stopped at the Rev. Dr. Browne's house and made Mr. Oakden enquire whether his friend was at home. On Dr. Browne coming to the door he was bailed up, and Ford asked him "How much money have you got?" "None," replied Dr. Browne. "Take care I don't find you out in a lie," cried Ford; "where's your money?" They went in and began searching the drawers and cupboards, and while they were thus employed Chief District Constable Midgeley, who had heard that the bushrangers were in the town, came in with another constable, and taking the bushrangers unawares captured them, though not without trouble. When called on to surrender Ford tried to get out his pistol, but Midgeley said, "If you stir you'll be settled quick." Ford and Smart were convicted of highway robbery and death was recorded against them, but the sentences were commuted to imprisonment for life.
A carrier was stopped on the Brighton Road by two armed bushrangers on Sunday, December 6th, 1846. A carpet bag, containing some dress clothes belonging to Lieutenant Lloyd, of the 96th Regiment, which were being sent to Hobart Town for safety, was stolen. The coat and vest buttons were faced with gold. Several other articles were taken from the carrier's cart. For this robbery Richard Gordon was apprehended by District Constable Goldsmith and Constable Daley. On the following day Henry Jenkins, alias "Billy from the Den," was also captured by the police. Billy had broken out of Oatland's Gaol about three months previously, and had been living by highway and other robberies since. The clothes were offered to Mr. Roberts, a pawnbroker in Hobart Town, and he, suspecting that they were stolen, communicated with the police, who also arrested Michael Cogan, a marine store dealer, as an accomplice.
On December 31st, a party of constables out seeking for bushrangers found a boat containing provisions, wearing apparel, &c., on the east bank of the River Tamar, about eight miles from George Town. Another boat was reported to have been stolen from Mr. Coulson. The police watched by the boat all day and night. On the next morning, Sunday, they saw two men pulling another boat towards the spot and hid themselves in the scrub. When the men landed, the constables appeared and the men ran away. The constables followed, and ran down one man named Jones. The other bushranger, George Jamieson, was captured by Mr. Hinton and his crew at the Marine Station, near the Heads. Jamieson was seen in the scrub, near the station, and one of the men, in accordance with Australian custom, invited him into the hut to have some food. Jamieson accepted the invitation and, while he was eating, Mr. Hinton came in and recognised him. When Mr. Hinton said that he should arrest him Jamieson replied, "I'll be—— if you do," and took a tomahawk from under his jumper. He was immediately seized from behind by one of Mr. Hinton's men and was handed over to the police.
The bushrangers Wilson and Dido were the most notorious about this time. They were watching Mr. James Clifford's house, at Piper's River, on September 16th, 1846, and when Mr. Clifford came out they rushed upon him, took him inside, tied him, and took wearing apparel, ammunition, and other articles out of the drawers and boxes. In January, Mr. Rees and Mr. Stevenson started from Campbelltown in a gig for St. Patrick's Head. On reaching the fourth gate on the road, known as Davidson's gate, they saw two men with guns. At first they took these men for constables. Stevenson got down to open the gate, and while he was doing so Rees became aware of the character of the two armed men who were approaching, and called out to Stevenson, "Make haste! Here's the bushrangers!" Stevenson tried to jump into the gig, but before he could do so the men were upon him. They presented their guns and called upon the travellers to surrender. They then ordered Rees to drive the gig off the road into the timber. Mr. Rees objected, and the bushrangers told him he need not fear, as they intended to act honourably. "But what do you want?" asked Rees. "We want to rob you; we want your money," was the reply. "Then," said Mr. Rees, "why not take it here and let us go on?" The bushrangers made no reply, but took the horse by the head and led him away. When the gig was in among the timber the robbers took £18, a gold watch and chain, and a gold pencil case, from Mr. Stevenson; and £8 and a silver watch from Mr. Rees. They also took two dress suits and two top coats from the gig, and then ordered the gentlemen to take off their boots. "What for?" asked Mr. Rees. "Because we want them," was the reply. "But," cried Mr. Rees, "how are we to get home?" "Oh, you're all right. You can ride while we have to walk," said the bushranger. "But——" began Mr. Rees, when he was interrupted with, "Oh, no more nonsense. If you don't make haste we'll strip you." Stevenson took off his boots, and Rees thought it prudent to follow his example. They returned to their homes in Campbelltown two and a-half hours after they had left, and deferred their visit to the Heads to another day. On the 27th the police were informed that Dido, the bushranger, had been seen in a hut in Prosser's Forest. A party of constables started immediately, and reached the place at one a.m. Everything was quiet, and the constables walked very cautiously, fearing that if they stepped on a stick and broke it the noise would waken the bushranger should he be there. The constables took up positions round the hut to prevent escape, and then District Constable Davis, who was in command, suddenly burst in the door. Dido sprang out of the bed and fell on his knees on the floor begging for mercy. He was secured without resistance. In the hut were a double-barrelled gun and a pistol, both loaded ready for use. Mr. Rees's watch and some of Mr. Stevenson's clothes were found in the hut. When brought up at the police court Dido said he had been transported in the name of William Driscoll, but his proper name was Timothy. Mr. Tarleton, the magistrate, made some remarks on the folly of men taking to the bush. Dido replied that he should have been happy enough if he had not been betrayed. He might have lived in luxury for life. The man who betrayed him had been his best friend, but he became jealous and gave him up. He had been sixteen times in Launceston. He had been drinking about town all day on Christmas Day. He had been hocussed and had not been well since. Wilson and he had quarrelled and they had parted. Wilson was all right. He had a nice little patch of cultivation, with plenty of flour and some sheep. He was not likely to be taken. In spite of this assertion, however, Wilson was captured a few days later while drinking at Pitcher's Inn on the Westbury Road. He showed a pistol and this excited suspicion, so Mr. Pitcher sent a servant to inform the police. Constable Leake came and found the man asleep in a hut at the rear of the public-house. He handcuffed him and took him to Launceston in a cart. He was identified as Dido's mate and was committed for trial at the same time.
Robberies of a similar character to these took place from time to time, but after the discovery of gold in Australia in 1851 the great object of the disaffected in Van Diemen's Land was to get to the mainland. No doubt many of these men made their way across the Straits in stolen boats, but the majority paid their passages out of the proceeds of their robberies. Probably it was in consequence of this exodus that no bushrangers became notorious in Van Diemen's Land at this time, and a few examples of the crimes committed during the later days of the epoch will suffice. About the beginning of 1853 a desperate attempt was made by nine bushrangers, who had been convicted and were being taken from Launceston to Hobart Town, to escape from the two constables who had them in charge. The prisoners had been very rowdy since leaving Launceston, and when the party was near Bagdad, Convict John Jones suddenly snatched the musket from Constable Doran and felled the constable with a blow. Jones then shouted "Now well fight for it." Constable Mulrooney rushed at Jones and endeavoured to wrest the musket from him, but the other prisoners forced him back. The prisoners were handcuffed together in threes, and this no doubt hampered their movements, but they contrived to get Mulrooney down and beat him with their handcuffs. Convict McCarthy presented the musket at Mulrooney and pulled the trigger, but finding that the gun was not loaded he, in a rage snapped the stock across his knee. In doing this the bayonet fell off and both sides struggled to obtain possession of it. At this moment two men appeared along the road, and hearing the noise they hastened forward. One of them was an assigned shepherd of Captain Chalmers and was armed with a double-barrelled gun. Constable Mulrooney was shouting "murder," and the shepherd came to his assistance. The convicts then gave up the struggle and fell into rank. They were taken to Bagdad, and from thence a stronger guard was sent with them until they were safely confined in the Pentonville gaol.