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.