History of the Australian Bushrangers

by George Boxall

During the next few months robberies occurred in various parts of the extensive tract of country between Wagga Wagga and Deniliquin, and were, of course, all attributed to the Morgan gang. On April 16th, 1864, Mr. George Elliott, of Burrangong, with a stockman named Donnelly reached Deniliquin, with a mob of horses for sale. In consequence of some rumours which spread through the town, Mr. Elliott was closely questioned by the sergeant of police, and after some hesitation admitted that he had been stuck up by Morgan and robbed of £127 17s. and a bay horse with saddle and bridle, on the road between Narrandera and Jerilderie. He said that when he got rid of his horses he would have to return home by the same route, and thought it prudent to hold his tongue, "the least said the soonest mended," as there was no saying whom he might meet on the road.

In June, Sergeant McGinnerty and Constable Churchley were riding along the road to Tumberumba, when they overtook a horseman near Copabella. McGinnerty civilly said "Good-day" as they passed, in the usual Australian fashion. The man looked at him and replied, "Oh, you're one of the—— wretches looking for bushrangers, are you?" and hastily drew a revolver and shot McGinnerty through the breast. The sergeant's horse bolted, and the bushranger galloped after him into the bush. Constable Churchley rode back to Copabella for assistance, and on his return with a party and fresh horses found McGinnerty's hat lying in the road, and opposite to it, at some distance away, the body. It was supposed that the bushranger had placed the hat on the road to indicate where the body was, and to facilitate its discovery. The robber must have ridden straight from the scene of this cold-blooded murder to the Round Hill station, where he mustered all the men and drove them into the carpenter's shop. He then went to the house, called out the proprietor, Mr. Watson, and led him to the door of the carpenter's shop. He enquired whether the men had sufficient rations. "If they haven't," said Mr. Watson, "they've only got to say so and they'll get more." "Well, I'm Dan Morgan, I just wanted to know, and you'd better give them a nobbler," replied the bushranger. Mr. Watson said he'd no objection to the men having a nobbler, and sent to the house. The messenger returned with four bottles of spirits, and each man was given a nobbler in a pannikin. The men laughed and took it as a good joke. One of them asked the bushranger whether he had "stolen his stirrup irons from Mr. Johnstone?" Morgan with a curse immediately drew his pistol, and fired into the room. The men ran out. Morgan followed them, shouting, "You—— wretches, do you want to give me away?" He fired several times, until John McLean fell wounded. By this time the men had sheltered themselves behind trees. Seeing no one to shoot at Morgan dismounted, lifted McLean carefully on to his horse, and led the animal to the house. Mr. Watson and some of the women took McLean in, and Morgan mounted and rode away. Then it was discovered that another man, John Heriot, was lying wounded in the carpenter's shop. Heriot's injury consisted of a broken leg, and he was placed in a buggy and conveyed with as little delay as possible to the hospital at Albury. But McLean's wound was too serious to admit of his removal, and he died after lingering in pain for two or three days. At the inquest held on the body, Edward Smith, stockman at the Round Hill station, deposed that Morgan had called at the station two days after the attack to enquire how McLean was, and had sat at the bedside for several hours. At that time there were numerous parties of police and civilians searching the country round in all directions in hopes of finding him. A verdict of wilful murder was returned against Daniel Morgan on June 23rd, and a few days later a proclamation was issued by which the reward offered for his capture dead or alive was increased from £500 to £1000.

A man walked into the bar of the Five Mile Creek Inn, near Bogolong, and called for a nobbler of brandy, which was supplied him. He then demanded another, which the barman refused to give him until he had paid for the one he had drank. "Be careful what you do," exclaimed the customer, "I'm Dan Morgan." He drew out a pistol, and the barman rushed from behind the counter, jumped through a window, and ran. The customer followed him to the window, but the barman could not say how much further. The barman, however, ran right round the house. When he returned to the window through which he had made his escape, he saw the bushranger's pistol lying on the sill. He grasped it, and having recovered from his momentary panic, walked into the bar in time to see the pseudo Morgan helping himself out of a bottle. The barman at once grappled with him, and the cook, the only other man in the house at the time, hearing the scuffling, came in. The man was soon secured, and in due time was handed over to the custody of the police. He was identified as a fiddler, who travelled about the country playing for a living. He was sent to gaol for a few months as a caution not to obtain grog again under false pretences by personating a bushranger.

Morgan, with three mates, visited Yarribee station, stuck up Mr. Mate, the overseer, with two bushmen and the bullock-driver, and tied their hands behind them. He demanded the key of the store, which was given to him. He opened the door and selected a quantity of articles which he packed on a horse. He served out tobacco, gin, and porter to the men whom he had made prisoners, having added several, who had arrived at the station after he began operations, to their number. The liquor had its effect, and some of the men became uproarious. Morgan swore at them and ordered them to be quiet, and as they did not obey he brought out the station brand—P.T.—put it in the fire, and swore he would brand every one of them on the cheek. Whether the threat frightened the men into quietness, or whether the bushranger thought better of his purpose, is not known. Morgan, however, rode away with his plunder without using the branding-iron.

Under the heading—"Comforting Bushrangers," the Deniliquin Chronicle of the 18th December said:—"Mr. —— we hear has given orders that whenever Morgan calls at his station he is to be given everything he wants, and when he does not call food is to be taken into the bush and left for him." The paper goes on to accuse the unnamed squatter with "holding a candle to the devil." But it is difficult to see where the blame comes in. The stations were from twenty-five to fifty miles apart, and except at lambing and shearing times had few men employed on them. The police in the district were not very numerous, and even if they had been very much stronger than they were they could not have prevented a daring, reckless man like Morgan from setting fire to the grass. It was so easy at that time for even an offended bushman to have revenge, for any real or supposed slight or injury, by starting a blaze which would destroy the grass over hundreds of square miles before it could be stopped, and this might go very far towards ruining a squatter. In face of this danger a few clothes or a quantity of food was a trifling loss. Certainly Morgan never did fire the grass, because, perhaps, there was no profit in it for himself, but there can be no doubt that he would have done it had he desired to have revenge on any particular run holder.

One of the many stories told about the brutality of Morgan was that he went to a cattle station near Jerilderie, and asked to see the overseer. The overseer's wife informed him that her husband was away at a back station mustering and branding, and that she and the children were the only persons at home at the head station. Morgan replied that he was sorry for it. He'd travelled to the station specially for the purpose of shooting the overseer, who was too friendly with the police. He then demanded a sum of money which he said he knew the overseer had recently received. The woman declared that her husband had no money at the station, or if he had that she was not aware where he kept it. Morgan refused to believe her. He made her boil him a number of eggs, declaring that he would eat nothing else, as there was too much strychnine and arsenic about these stations. When these were ready he examined them carefully, rejecting all which had cracks in the shells and eating the sound ones only. He then made up the fire until there was a big blaze, when he once more asked her for the money, and as she persisted in declaring that she had none he seized her by the shoulders, forced her back until she was seated on the blazing logs, and held her there until her clothes were on fire. Then he allowed her to get up, and seizing a bucket of water standing near he dashed it over her to put the fire out. Notwithstanding this she was severely burned. When he mounted and rode away he said he would soon be round again and hoped then to find the overseer at home.

Sergeant Smyth and Constables Cannon, Baxter, and Reed, who were out seeking for the bushranger Morgan, camped one night in September near Kyamba. They had put up a tent and were seated inside. They had a candle and this threw their shadows on the canvas and afforded a magnificent mark, which the bushranger could not resist firing at. The shot wounded Sergeant Smyth, but he and the constables rushed out of the tent and blazed away, but without seeing their assailant. It was supposed that this attack was made by Morgan, but nothing was seen of the bushranger. Sergeant Smyth fired twice after being wounded and then he fainted. He was taken without delay to Doodal Cooma station and a doctor was found, but he never rallied and died a fortnight later.

It was said that Morgan was on the Wagga Wagga race course at the Christmas races, and that he had lunch at the booth where the magistrates, the police inspectors, and the leading merchants and shopkeepers of the town went, and that afterwards he rode into the town itself without being recognised by the police.

On March 18th, 1865, he stuck up Mr. Rand's station at Mohanga, collected all the men in one room, and ordered Mr. Rand to fetch some grog from the store. This having been done, Morgan asked one of the men whether he could play the concertina, and being answered in the affirmative, told him to get his instrument and "amuse the company." When all was ready the bushranger said to Mr. Rand: "I understand you are a good dancer. Will you favour the company with a reel?" Mr. Rand said he should be only too pleased, and began at once. Morgan watched him critically and applauded every now and then, but when Mr. Rand stopped, he raised his pistol and said: "Once more, please, you dance very nicely," and thus he kept the squatter jigging till midnight, when he was allowed to retire. In the morning Morgan took from the store a quantity of clothing and some other articles, including a gun. He then asked for a horse, saddle, and bridle, to pack his plunder on, and got them.

At Jerilderie, when engaged in one of his usual robberies, he spoke in the most contemptuous terms of the police. He said that the Victorian police had been blowing that they would soon catch him if he crossed the border, and declared that he would soon show them that they were no smarter than the New South Wales police, who were "frightened to go near any place where they thought they might find him." A Beechworth paper, commenting on this report, challenged Morgan to cross the Murray, and prophesied that if he dared to do so he would be either dead or in gaol within forty-eight hours. This challenge, it was said, gave great umbrage to the bushranger, who had apparently, owing, perhaps, to his long immunity from arrest, developed the belief that he was invincible. He was reported to have referred to it frequently, and to have asserted his intention to cross the Murray River and "take the flashness out of the Victorian people and police." Accordingly, early in April, he made a raid south of the Murray. Mounted on Mr. Bowler's racing mare, Victoria, Morgan stuck up Mr. McKinnon's station on the Little River. He crossed the King River, and set fire to Mr. Evans's barns and granary for "having shot my fingers off," an event which had taken place some time previously, in one of his many encounters on the "other side." Morgan then stuck up and robbed a number of carriers on the road between Wangaratta and Benalla. He also stuck up Mr. Warby's station, and on the evening of April 8th arrived at Peechelba station, owned by Messrs. Macpherson and Rutherford. Morgan rode up and knocked at the door of Mr. Macpherson's house. It was opened by Mr. Macpherson's son. Morgan, pistol in hand, ordered him to bail up. Then everybody in the house were called in and compelled to range themselves in line along the wall of the dining-room. A housemaid named Alice Macdonald, thinking he was joking, refused to stand up against the wall "like a child." Morgan took her by the arm to force her into line, when she smacked his face. Raising his pistol he said, "My young lady, I must take the flashness out of you. Do you know who I am?" "No," replied the girl. "Well, I'm Morgan. Will you take your place?" The girl pouted but did as she was told. Morgan placed two revolvers on the table and sat down. He said he had had no sleep for three nights, but he hoped to return to New South Wales next day and have a good sleep. He asked a servant to make him some tea and allowed her to leave the room. Then he said that he had heard music as he approached the house, and he asked which of the ladies played? On being told "Miss Macpherson," he asked her to favour him with a tune. She replied "Certainly, Mr. Morgan." "Call me Morgan," he said, "I hate to be Mistered." Mr. Macpherson asked him what had induced him to lead such a life? "I was forced to it," he replied. "I was tried at Castlemaine for a crime of which I was innocent and received a heavy sentence. Well, I escaped from the stockade and there you are. What else could I do?"