On April 20th, 1868, Robert Cotterall, alias Blue Cap, was tried at Wagga Wagga for having stuck up and robbed Carl Seeman at Rock Station, Reedy Creek, in June, 1867; and William Marshall, Jeremiah Lehane, and several others at various places, between July 15th and October 24th. The prisoner had made a hard struggle when run down by the police, and had been wounded. He was still very ill when brought to trial. He was deathly pale, and wore a green shade over his eyes. He looked very little like the popular ideal of a bold bushranger. He was convicted and sent to gaol for ten years.
Bushranging in the Northern District of New South Wales; Captain Thunderbolt Robs the Toll Bar; A Chinaman Bushranger; A Long Chase; A Fight with the Police; "Next, Please"; The Bushranger Rutherford; Captain Thunderbolt and the German Band; Desperate Duel between Captain Thunderbolt and Constable Walker; Thunderbolt's Death.
It must not be supposed that while the Southern and Western districts of New South Wales were harried by bushrangers, that the great Northern district escaped from this scourge. As a fact, although bushranging began rather later than in the Western district, the Northern district was in no degree behind the others in interest at this time. In April, 1864, Peter, James, and Acton Clarke, three brothers, with John Conroy and a boy of twelve, named Samuel Carter, were riding together towards Culgoa, near Warland's Range. The boy had cantered some distance ahead, when he was ordered to "bail up" by a mounted man, who suddenly came out from behind a clump of trees. The boy took no notice and the man fired at him and missed. The boy galloped away and the man started to follow him, when he caught sight of the other travellers, who had just appeared round a bend in the road. The bushranger stopped his horse, turned to meet them, and ordered them to dismount. They did so. The bushranger also dismounted and came towards them. He demanded their money, and they felt in their pockets to get it out. Just then Peter Clarke made a rush, threw his arms round the bushranger, and tried to throw him. There was a short struggle, and a pistol went off. Peter Clarke fell dead, and the bushranger broke away from him. The other travellers had come forward and endeavoured to assist Peter, but had been unable to grasp hold of the bushranger, as the wrestlers shifted so rapidly. Now, however, they caught him as he was trying to reach his horse. In the struggle both James Clarke and Conroy were wounded, but the bushranger was overpowered and disarmed. They tied his arms and took him along with them. About two miles along the road they came upon two men tied to trees, who said that they had been stuck up and robbed by the prisoner about two hours before. The prisoner was handed over to the police, and was identified as Harry Wilson, twenty years of age. He was taken to Maitland and charged with wilful murder. He was convicted, and hung on October 4th. A public meeting was held at Murrurundi and a committee was appointed to raise a subscription for the purpose of erecting a monument to Peter Clarke, who had "sacrificed his life in the cause of order and justice." This project was duly carried out.
Mr. Samuel Turner, travelling from Bingera Goldfield to Newcastle in a buggy, put up for the night at Britten's Hotel, Willowtree. Next morning (Sunday, October 19th) he started early, intending to breakfast at Wallabadah. He had gone barely ten miles, however, when he was stuck up by a man riding a fine-looking horse. The robber took him off the road, tied him to one tree and hitched his horse to another. He robbed Mr. Turner of about £12, a gold watch and chain, and a bunch of keys, and rode away. Mr. Turner struggled desperately and succeeded in getting loose. He was leading his horse through the scrub towards the road when the robber returned, tied him up more securely than before, and cautioned him not to "try that dodge again." This time Mr. Turner remained quiet, and about an hour later the bushranger returned again, directing Mr. McShane where to drive his mail coach. When the coach had been placed in a satisfactory position the robber tied McShane and a passenger back to back, with a sapling between them, and laid them on the ground. The bushranger then sat down to go through the letters. McShane said, "You'd better leave them alone, you'll get nothing out of them." "Won't I," replied the bushranger. "What do you call this? It's a hundred and forty quid anyway." He held up a roll of bank notes as he spoke. Having finished the letters he told them to remain quiet until he "got the other mail," and went away again towards the road. It was fully two hours later when he again returned, directing Smith, the driver of the other mail, where to drive. Smith said his horses were young ones and would not stand. "All right," replied the bushranger, "stand at their heads, but, mind, no hanky panky." The only passenger was Mrs. O'Dell. She was politely requested to take a seat on a log and was not interfered with or asked for her money. By a strange coincidence her husband had been a passenger on the coach a week before and had been robbed at the same place, presumably by the same bushranger. By the present transaction the Bank of New South Wales lost £274, and it was doubtful whether this included the "hundred and forty quid" or not.
J. Lowe's mail coach, plying between Mudgee and Sofala, was stuck up by an armed bushranger about two miles from Peel. It was not known whether this highwayman came from the Northern or the Western district, the place where the robbery took place lying between the two and being raided occasionally from either side.
On December 16th a toll-keeper named Delany was "sitting at the receipt of custom" in the toll-house on the road between Maitland and Rutherford, when a man pushed the door open, presented a pistol at his head, and cried out "Give me your money." Delany was of course considerably startled by the suddenness of this attack, but he replied "I've got none." "No—— nonsense!" cried the bushranger. "Give it here!" "I tell you," exclaimed Delany, "there's no money here. My mate's just taken it to Maitland." The bushranger stepped into the house, pushed Delany aside, opened the cupboard, and took out the cash box, saying at the same time, "I'm Captain Thunderbolt." Delany made no attempt to resist this violence, and the bushranger put the box under his arm and walked away up the road to where he had hitched his horse to the fence. He mounted and rode away, and a few minutes afterwards O'Brien, the lessee of the tollbar, returned from the town. Delany told him what had occurred, and leaving O'Brien in charge walked towards the Spread Eagle Inn at the Rutherford Racecourse. Near the inn he came upon the bushranger, who exclaimed, "Hulloa, come after me?" "No," replied Delany, "I'm going to the pub." "Has your mate gone for the crushers?" asked the bushranger. "No," was the reply, "he's minding the bar." Captain Thunderbolt kept silence for a moment, as if thinking, then he said, "I was told that young Fogarty, the flash fighting man, was keeping the bar, and I wanted to take it out of him. I didn't want to hurt you. You'll find your cash box behind that clump of trees and here's your money." He handed Delany about four shillings, mostly in coppers, and Delany walked away, picked up the cash box, which was uninjured, and went back to the toll-house. The bushranger walked into the bar of the inn and asked if he could have something to eat. Mrs. Byrne, the landlady, replied "Certainly," and went out to cut him some bread and meat. He sat down and waited, and on her return ate the bread and meat as if he was very hungry. When he had finished he asked "How much?" "Oh nothing," replied Mrs. Byrne, "we never charge for a little thing like that." "Well," said the robber, "I came here to stick you up, but as you're so—— hospitable, I won't." He then asked for a bottle of rum, paid for it, and went away. About half-a-mile away he met Godfrey Parsons, who was taking his sick wife to Maitland, to see the doctor. Thunderbolt ordered him to "bail up and hand out." Parsons replied, "We've only two pounds, and we want that for the doctor." The bushranger asked what was the matter with Mrs. Parsons and how long she had been ill. Parsons told him. "Well," said the robber, "I'm a bushranger, but I don't rob sick women; pass on." Mrs. Parsons had £30 in her pocket and was crying at the prospect of losing it.
Further along the road Thunderbolt met a man and four women, and stopped to joke with them. He said he thought it——- unfair that one man should have four women, while he could not get one. As they were laughing a trooper rode up, and the bushranger immediately challenged him to fight; the trooper, however, said he had no ammunition with him. "I've been chased by you—— traps near Armidale," exclaimed Thunderbolt, "but they pulled up at the Black Rock. They were afraid of getting bogged in the Green Swamp if they followed me."
He stopped a number of other people during the afternoon, robbing some and letting others go, and in the evening went back to the Spread Eagle to tea. He chatted for some time with Mrs. Byrne, telling her of his exploits. Just after his departure four troopers rode up. Information as to the proceedings of the bushranger had reached Maitland, and these troopers had been sent out to catch him if possible. They made some enquiries, and then followed in the direction in which Thunderbolt had gone, overtaking him as he was talking quietly to a man on the road. The foremost trooper presented his pistol at the bushranger's head, and said "You're my prisoner." "Am I?" cried Thunderbolt with a laugh, as he put spurs to his horse and galloped away. After a long chase, and the expenditure of a large quantity of Government ammunition, the bushranger escaped in the dark, the troopers' horses being almost too tired to return to Maitland. In its comments on this escapade of the new bushranger the Maitland Mercury enquires: "Is this hitherto quiet district to be disturbed as the Western district has been for so long a time?" and events proved that it was.
Within a few days the Northern mail was stuck up by two armed men. One of the robbers was said to be in a state of trepidation the whole time. Perhaps this may account for the bushrangers missing two registered letters, one containing £60 and the other £30, and a small bag of gold-dust in a package. A gentleman who was accompanying the mail cart on horseback was allowed to continue his journey because he said he was on a visit to a sick friend. He was required to promise, "as a gentleman," not to give any information to the police, and he kept his word, but on his arrival in Tamworth he made a bet that the mail coach would not arrive by three p.m. The mail was delayed less than half an hour, however, and the driver nearly made up the lost time by fast driving. The gentleman therefore lost his bet in spite of the special knowledge he had acquired. The robbers were followed at once, and on January 6th, 1865, William Mackie and Robert Johnstone were committed for trial for this robbery. Mackie was identified as a bushranger who had been previously convicted at Bathurst for robbery under arms, but had made his escape while being conveyed to Sydney to be sent to Cockatoo Island. The prisoners were taken from Bathurst to Penrith by coach. From thence they went to Sydney by train. They were handcuffed in the guard's van, the door being open, as the day was very hot. When running along the embankment near Fairfield, between Liverpool and Parramatta, Mackie, ironed as he was, jumped out. The train was travelling at a fast rate, and it ran some distance before notice could be conveyed to the driver and the train stopped. It was expected that the prisoner would be found dead at the foot of the embankment, but nothing could be seen of him. It was then believed that he had crawled somewhere into the scrub to die, but although diligent search was made no body could be discovered. He was now sent to Cockatoo to undergo his original sentence, and Johnstone was sent to keep him company. It was said that they intended to join Captain Thunderbolt.
An attempt was made to stick up the Northern mail about twelve miles north of Singleton, on January 7th. A shot was fired from behind a culvert on the road, as the coach was passing, and a voice called out "Bail up." The driver, however, instead of obeying, lashed his horses, took his foot off the brake, and the coach plunged down the hill at a tremendous rate, and at the imminent risk of a capsize. Two robbers came out from behind the culvert and fired. The passengers declared that they heard the whizz of the bullets, but no one was hurt, and the coach reached the level ground safely.
On the same day the branch mail from Bendemeer was stuck up and robbed near Stringy Barks, proving that more than one party was raiding on the Great North Road. There were no passengers, but a number of half notes were taken. The robbers handed the driver several cheques to "take care of," one being for £1000. No violence was used.
The Northern mail was robbed again on January 30th, at Black Hill, about two miles from Muswellbrook, by four armed men. There were three male and one female passengers. The amount stolen was estimated at between £700 and £800. These and several minor robberies on the road were all credited to Captain Thunderbolt, or to men who were trying to join him, and it was said that the immunity enjoyed by him encouraged other evil-disposed persons to take to the road.
In one case at least a Chinaman turned bushranger. Constable Ward was returning to his station at Coonanbarabran from Mudgee, on February 21st, when he was informed that a Chinaman had recently stuck up and robbed a number of persons in the neighbourhood. The constable followed him into the bush, found his camp, and called on the Asiatic to come out and surrender. Instead of obeying the Chinaman exclaimed, "You—— policeeman, me shootee you!" and did so. The constable, though wounded, returned to the nearest farm, from whence news of the occurrence was sent to the police-station. A party was organised and the Chinaman was soon hunted down. He was convicted of attempting to murder a constable while in the execution of his duty, and was hung. Constable Ward recovered from his wound.
On April 6th, Mr. Hughes, of Bourke & Hughes, squatters, informed the police at Dubbo, that the hotel at the Fisheries had been stuck up and robbed, and volunteered to assist in the capture of the bushrangers. They tracked the robbers to Canonbar, about a hundred and twenty miles, when Mr. Hughes's horse knocked up. There they were informed that the bushrangers had passed three days before, and had stolen fresh horses from Mr. Baird's station, Bellerengar, leaving their knocked-up ones in exchange. The black trackers were thrown off the trail by this manœuvre, as they followed the tracks of the abandoned horses for several miles before they discovered their error. They soon, however, picked up the new tracks, although the bushrangers had kept off the road as much as possible, as if aware that they were being followed. They rode through the scrub and across arid or rocky patches wherever they could find them, but the black boys followed them with unerring skill and with but little delay. The bush rangers stuck up and robbed several people on the road and took fresh horses, provisions, and other necessaries from the stations as they went along. At Martell's Inn the police were informed that the bushrangers were only twelve hours ahead. We will now leave the pursuers and see what the pursued were doing. They stuck up Mr. Strahan's station and then went on to Gordon's Inn, where they called for drinks like ordinary travellers, shouting for all those in the bar. Then the leader, Daniel Sullivan, produced his pistol, while his two mates went to the door to prevent any of the men inside from running away. They collected about £4 from the landlord and those in the bar, then they put their pistols in their pockets and began "shouting" again. When the £4 was expended, they again produced their pistols, compelled the landlord to hand over the cash, and proceeded to spend it as before. The money had been expended some three or four times, when Sullivan left his mates, Clarke and Donnelly, to "keep the game alive," mounted his horse and rode into the bush. Mr. Gordon was compelled to remain in the bar to serve out the liquors called for, but Mrs. Gordon went on to the verandah to ascertain whether she could find any one to send to Molong to give the alarm. Presently she saw three dusty, weather-stained travellers walking towards the inn, and thought that they were more bushrangers. Fortunately she did not go into the bar to tell her husband, and when Sergeant Cleary, with Constables Brown and Johnston, came up they speedily told her who they were, and were informed in their turn that the men they had ridden so far to arrest were inside. The police entered the bar, and covering the two bushrangers with their revolvers called on them to surrender. Instead of obeying, Clarke put his hand to his belt and was immediately shot. Donnelly made a rush towards the corner of the bar, where their guns were standing against the wall, and he also was shot just before he reached them. A moment later Sullivan rode up to the front of the hotel, unconscious of the change which had taken place during his absence, and when he found himself covered by the police weapons he was so dumbfounded that he permitted himself to be pulled from his horse and handcuffed without resistance. The police had left their horses some distance away in charge of the black tracker. Now they went for their horses and fed them as well as themselves. Later on a cart was procured, and the body of Donnelly was disposed in the bottom. Beside it, wrapped in a blanket, was the wounded man, Clarke, while Sullivan, being uninjured, was mounted on horseback, and the whole party proceeded to Molong, where an inquest was held on Donnelly's body. Sullivan, and Clarke, who recovered from his wound, were subsequently tried and convicted.
On April 29th, the Tamworth Examiner said:—"A week ago we reported that Frederick Ward, alias Captain Thunderbolt, had stuck up the Warialda mail. He afterwards went to Mr. Lloyd's Manilla station and took two first-class horses. Then he stuck up Cheeseborough's and Lethbridge's stations. From the 20th to the 24th nothing was heard of him, but on the last-mentioned date he and another stuck up Munro's Inn, at Boggy Creek. Mr. Munro challenged them to fight singly, either with fists or pistols, but they laughed at him and shot a valuable dog. They drank a large quantity of spirits, and collected between £70 and £80. They went on to Walford's Inn at Millie, sticking up Mr. Baldwin on the road. Mr. Walford, having been informed of their approach, had hidden away everything of value, so that they got very little, except more grog. The police also had been informed, and three troopers, with a black tracker, soon arrived on the scene. As they approached, the bushranger on guard outside whistled, and the other man came out and mounted, Thunderbolt waving a revolver and pointing to a field behind the house as a challenge. He led his men to the clearing and made a stand. The police followed, and a number of shots were fired on both sides. The police closed up, and Constable Dalton shot one of the bushrangers, a mere lad, and he fell. Dalton shouted to Constable Morris to 'look after him,' and turned towards Thunderbolt, when the boy raised himself on his elbow and fired. Constable Lynch shot the boy in the neck, probably in time to save Dalton's life. Ward made a dash forward, perhaps with a view to driving the police away from the boy and carrying him off, but the police fire was too brisk, and after a few more rounds the robber turned and rode into the bush. The police followed, but as their horses had travelled fifty miles that morning, they were obliged to give up the chase. The robber who was killed, was identified as John Thompson, aged sixteen."
The Namoi mail was robbed by one white man and two blacks, near Tamworth, and on September 17th the mail from Walgett to Singleton was stuck up at Brigalow Creek. The passengers and driver were conducted some distance off the road, to where a fire had been kindled, and were told to "make some tea and enjoy yourselves while we look after the bags." James Boyd, alias McGrath, and Charles Stanmore were arrested after a smart chase, and were convicted of having robbed the Walgett mail. A number of similar robberies occurred from time to time in various parts of this extensive district, and the police were kept constantly busy.
In December, 1865, Ward, riding Mr. Duff's racer Eucalyptus, stuck up Cook's Inn at Quirindi on the 18th; J.M. Davis's Inn at Currabubula on the 20th, and Griffin's Inn at Carroll on the 23rd. At this last-named place he pulled up, and said to his mate in a loud voice, "Let's have a glass of brandy. We want it this wet evening." They dismounted, and stepped on to the verandah. As he entered the door Thunderbolt raised the corner of his mackintosh to display his pistols, and said, "I'll trouble you, ladies and gentlemen, to bail up." The women began to scream, and Ward said, "Don't be afraid. We shan't hurt any one. We only want a little money." A traveller who had entered some time before drew away from the bar, and joined the bushrangers. The other men present were ranged in single row along the wall, and when all were in position each man was called up in turn to be searched. The proceedings were very suggestive of the "next, please," in a barber's shop. While this was going on several people entered, and were compelled to take their places at the end of the queue. The bushrangers held the bar from five to nine p.m., pausing in their work every now and then to order drinks for all hands. Shortly after nine o'clock two men rode up to the verandah, and shouted "Landlord." The robbers looked out, and recognising the horsemen, retreated into the back room. Mr. Griffin went to the door, and said in a low tone to Constable Lang, "We're all stuck up here." "Which are the bushrangers?" asked the constable, and on being told that they were in the back room he rode to the door and fired. The shot was returned, and the shooting continued until the constable was wounded in the arm and his horse in the neck. The bushrangers went out through the back door, and escaped in the darkness into the bush, but they left their horses behind.
Early in 1866 Ward and his gang made a raid across the Queensland border, robbing stations, hotels, and travellers in the Curriwillinghi district, but he soon returned to his own district, and in March the Tamworth and Wee Waa mail was stuck up near Bullingall by two armed men supposed to be Ward and another. The driver of the Northern mail was also ordered to bail up near Murrurundi, and as he did not obey with due alacrity he was speedily brought to a standstill by one of his horses being shot dead. After going through the letters the bushrangers rode into the town and took a quantity of clothes, some money, and some jewellery and other valuables from Barton's and Johnstone's stores and Humphries' Hotel.
The Northern mail was robbed by three armed men at the Red Post Hill, near Falbrook. It was just before dawn when the driver was ordered to bail up. The robbers were on foot and had a number of pieces of rope ready to tie up the passengers. Mr. Moore, of Abingdon, attempted to run away, but was followed and knocked down with the butt of a pistol. The six passengers and the driver were tightly bound either to the fence or to trees, and their money and watches taken away from them. The robbers then mounted the coach and drove away along the road. As soon as it was out of sight the bound men began to struggle for liberty. Mr. Moore was the first to succeed in breaking loose and he untied Mr. Dines and the others. They followed the coach along the road towards Singleton, but had not gone very far when they were overtaken by Mr. Wyndham on horseback. They informed him of their circumstances and he rode rapidly away to give notice to the police in Singleton. He found the coach standing on the road within a mile of the town but did not stay to examine it. The police started out immediately and arrived at the coach almost as soon as the driver and passengers. Only one of the bags had been cut open, and no damage was done to anything else on the coach. The police spent the whole day in searching, but failed to find any tracks or to ascertain in which direction the robbers had gone.
James Booth, William Willis, alias Dunkley, and Thomas Hampton were arrested in a public house at the corner of Goulburn and Pitt Streets, Sydney, by Detectives Camphin and Finigan on April 17th, 1866, and charged with having robbed the Singleton mail on the previous day. The coach had arrived at the Red Post Hill, between Muswellbrook and Singleton, when the men sprang out from behind the trees bordering the road and sang out, "Bail up, stand and deliver, throw up your arms." Mr. Moore, one of the passengers, jumped out of the back of the coach, and Hampton chased him and brought him back. Mr. Button, a Government railway guard, also tried to get down, but Willis told him that he would blow his "—— brains out" if he didn't sit still. The passengers were all tied up and robbed. One of them, George Beved, said that Willis was the man who threatened to "Blow the roof of his—— skull off" when Moore was wrestling with Hampton. The prisoners were also charged with having bailed up and robbed the mail near Campbelltown, on April 10th. The proceedings were of the usual character. The prisoners were convicted on both charges and were sentenced, Willis to ten years' and Booth and Hampton each to eight years' imprisonment.
The April Sessions at Bathurst were unusually heavy. John Weekes was sentenced to death for the murder of Mr. Scheffts at Grenfell, and John Connors for attempted murder in another bushranging exploit. Besides these, Patrick Foran and James Kelly were sent to gaol for ten years for sticking up the Half-Way House on the Carcoar Road, and other acts of bushranging; James Kennedy, alias Southgate, to fifteen years for sticking up John Edwards, William Woodley, and Henry Rodwell, at Murdering Swamp on January 1st—Kennedy also pleaded guilty to robbing John Fawcett and John Eaton; Charles Rutherford, who had been engaged in several robberies in company with William Mackie, who, as already related, had jumped out of the train while being conveyed to Sydney, and was afterwards captured in the Northern district, was sentenced to seven years' penal servitude; Smith and Moran sentenced to seventeen years each, and Kerr to ten years. These, with some prisoners, sentenced for minor offences, were being conveyed to Sydney to gaol on April 25th, 1867. There were fifteen prisoners in all, guarded by eight troopers. Sergeant Casey, in charge, was seated on the box seat of the Cobb's coach. The prisoners were inside chained together in two gangs of seven and eight respectively. Constables Madden and Kennedy were seated, unarmed, with the prisoners, while the other five troopers rode beside the coach fully armed. At Pulpit Hill the prisoners, notwithstanding the heavy force opposed to them, made a desperate attempt to escape, and in the melee Constable Holmes was killed, while Rutherford and another prisoner got away in the bush. Rutherford immediately returned to his old haunts and recommenced his depredations. In December, 1867, he was captured by Sergeant Cleary, of Bourke, and was conveyed to the lock-up, but he again contrived to escape. In January, 1868, he stuck up the Boggy Creek and Galathera Inns, and robbed numbers of people on the road. He then went to Mr. Beauvais' inn at Cannonbar and called on the landlord to bail up. Mr. Beauvais, however, had a pistol in the till and knew how to use it. On pretence of taking out the money, to hand over as commanded, he got out his revolver and shot the bushranger. He was awarded a silver medal by the Government for this act.
The districts raided by Rutherford and Thunderbolt overlapped, so that it is difficult to decide which of these two bushrangers were responsible for many of the outrages. Ward, however, was not idle. In company with a boy named Mason, he stuck up and robbed the Northern, the Walcha, and several other mails in the district. He was frequently chased by the police, but being a magnificent rider, with an intimate knowledge of every gully, ravine, or hill in the extensive district over which he ranged, he always contrived to escape. Sometimes he was very hard pressed, as, for instance, when he was compelled to abandon Talleyrand, a racehorse for the recovery of which Mr. Wyndham had offered a reward of £100, in April, 1869. His companions were captured one after the other. They were generally boys of from sixteen to twenty, but Thunderbolt continued his career unchecked. No doubt he owed many of his hairbreadth escapes to the superiority of his horses. He would travel two hundred miles to steal a noted racehorse. Thus he stole Mr. Samuel Clift's horse, John Brown, from Breeza. The horse had run on the Maitland and Sydney courses.
One of the stories told about Ward was that he stuck up a German band at Goonoo Goonoo Gap, and made the Teutons play for him, besides giving him their money. The Germans pleaded hard. They said they were only poor men, and that their wives and children would suffer if they were robbed. Thunderbolt told them that he must have money. He was waiting for the principal winner at the Tamworth Races, he added, and he promised that if he caught him he would return the Germans their money. He took down their names and addresses. Notwithstanding this the Germans departed very sorrowful. They never expected to see their money again. Nevertheless, on their arrival at their home in Warwick, Queensland, they found a Post Office Order for £20 awaiting them. It was surmised, therefore, that Thunderbolt had captured the winner.
On May 25, 1870, Ward met Mr. Blanche, innkeeper, near Uralla, returning home with his wife from a drive, and called on him to bail up. Blanche laughed, but took no further notice of the order. Ward exclaimed, "No humbugging. You wouldn't let me have a bottle of rum the other night, though I offered £5 for it." Blanche replied that he never served any one after hours. He then took four shillings and sixpence from his pocket and said, "This is all the money I've got. You can have that." The robber said, "The missus has more than that." "No," cried Mrs. Blanche, "I've no money. We only came for a drive." Ward seemed to consider for a moment, and then told Mr. Blanche to drive on. Several men came up the by-road from Carlisle Gully, and Ward stopped and robbed them. An old man named Williamson, and an Italian dealer named Giovanni Cappisote, were also stopped, but after handing over a gold watch and chain, a small nugget of gold, and £3 13S. 6d. in money, the dealer was allowed to depart. The other men were taken to Blanche's Inn, where Williamson was ordered to shout. He did so, and then Ward shouted. They danced, and sang, and enjoyed themselves. Becoming quieter, Ward asked Blanche whether he remembered a fight between a bushranger and the police at the Rocks, about three hundred yards away, seven years before. Blanche said he remembered it well. "Well," cried Ward, "I'm the man; I was shot in the leg." Ward went on to relate more of his exploits, the narrative being interspersed with songs and dances.
In the meantime, Cappisote drove on to a selector's farm about a mile and a half along the road. Here he told Mrs. Dorrington what had happened. He borrowed a saddle and bridle, took his horse from the cart, and rode to Uralla; making a wide détour round Blanche's house. He told the police where the bushranger was, and Constables Mulhall and Walker armed and mounted at once. Mulhall had the faster horse and he reached Blanche's first. As he rode up he saw Ward and a young man, both mounted on gray horses, riding along the road. He followed them, and as he approached Ward turned round in his saddle and fired. Mulhall returned the fire but his horse bolted. The trooper soon pulled him up. He wheeled and, seeing one of the men on the grays gallop away, followed shouting to Walker to "look after the other fellow."
The "other fellow" was Thunderbolt, and he turned off the road and rode down the steep hill towards the Rocky River, followed by Constable Walker. Both men fired a shot occasionally when an opportunity offered but neither spoke. On reaching the bank of the river, Ward plunged in, intending to cross and escape up the opposite range, but Walker shot his horse. Ward fell into the river, which was shallow there, and he rose immediately. Walker galloped along the bank past a deep hole and crossed. Then he returned to where Ward was standing in the water and called on him to surrender. "Who the—— are you?" enquired Ward roughly. "Never mind who I am," replied Walker, "put your hands up." "Are you a trooper?" asked Ward. "Yes," replied Walker. "Married?" continued Ward. "Yes," said Walker. "Well, remember your family," said Ward. "Oh, that's all right," returned the trooper. "Will you come out and surrender?" "No," cried Ward, "I'll die first." "Then it's you and me for it," said Walker. The trooper urged his horse into the river. The animal objected at first and then entered with a rush into deep water. Walker raised his revolver above his head to keep it dry. Ward fired several shots, none of which took effect. When the horse steadied Walker fired again and Ward fell. He rose again immediately and tried to scramble up the bank. Walker struck him with the butt of his revolver and the bushranger fell back into the deep hole and sank. The trooper slipped from his horse, and reaching down grabbed Ward's shirt and pulled him up. He dragged the bushranger out of the hole, up the steep bank, and laid him out on the grass, believing him to be dead. Then he remounted and rode to Blanche's Hotel for assistance to bring the body in. Several of the men about there volunteered to help, but on their reaching the river they found that the bushranger had disappeared. A search was made, but it was too dark to look for tracks. The next morning at daybreak the police and several civilians went to the spot and found a trail of blood. They followed it, and found Ward hidden under some bushes. He was placed in a cart and taken to Uralla, but he died before night. The young man chased by Constable Mulhall said he had gone after Ward to try and get back a horse which the bushranger had stolen from him, and as nothing detrimental to his character was known he was discharged at the police court.
Constable Walker was highly complimented for the pluck and determination he had shown in this desperate encounter with the noted bushranger in a deep water hole in a mountain stream with no one looking on. Of the many brave actions recorded of the police this was perhaps the bravest and the most tragical. The constable was promoted and paid his well-earned reward.
In referring to this duel the Melbourne Argus spoke of Ward as the last of the "professional bushrangers" of New South Wales, and said: "With a much more compact territory than New South Wales, and with a population which can entertain no ancestral or traditional sympathies with burglars or highwaymen, we are nevertheless amenable to the same reproaches as those with which the neighbouring colony was assailed a few years ago."
I have already dealt with this mild pharisaical glorification of Victoria as compared with New South Wales, and have no intention of enlarging upon it here. I refer to it merely to remind the reader that bushrangers were at work elsewhere than in New South Wales at this time.
Bushranging in the Wild Paroo; A Raid into South Australia; A Relic of the Bushranging Era; Agitation for the Release of Gardiner; Official Reports as to Twenty-four Bushrangers Still in Gaol; The Cases of Gardiner and William Brookman; Gardiner and the Other Bushrangers Released; Gardiner Leaves the Country.
Bushranging in New South Wales practically ceased with the death of Frederick Ward, alias Captain Thunderbolt. Previously to his tragical death in the New England River, the few stragglers from the big gangs had been captured, and any new men who attempted to revive the "reign of terror" were speedily dealt with by the police. There were some few robberies besides those already related which may be mentioned here. They were distributed over a wide range of country, one party even crossing the border into South Australia, where the bushranger had hitherto been known only by hearsay. But these later bushrangers did not inspire the terror which those who had passed away had done. They were very small fry as compared with Gardiner, Gilbert, Hall, Dunn, Morgan, Thunderbolt, and their companions. Three bushrangers stuck up Mr. Wearne's station at Crookwell on January 6th, 1869, and stole £80 worth of property. The Carcoar mail was bailed up on the mountains, near the Bathurst Road, by two bushrangers, when £15 were taken from the passengers and the bags were searched. A desperate attempt was made to stick up the Joint Stock Bank at Braidwood, but the robbers were beaten off. The Southern mail was robbed on May 10th between Goulburn and Marulan. An attempt was made to stick up the Yass mail on the 24th. Mr. Longfield, a passenger, was wounded, but the robber was forced to retire without having effected his purpose.
In December, a number of people were bailed up and robbed in the Paroo and Warrego districts. The "Wild Paroo" had not been very long reclaimed from its original desert state, but this did not prevent an enterprising bushranger from finding his way there, though he did not continue his career for any very lengthened period. He stuck up Messrs. Lyons & Martin's station, and made the men sit on the top rail of the stockyard fence while he rolled up a parcel of goods which he selected from the store. Messrs. Browne, Zouch, and Bradley drove up in a buggy while he was thus engaged, and were ordered to dismount and take their places on the fence with the station hands. The robber escorted them, pistol in hand, from where the buggy stood to the stockyard. While walking across this intervening space, the bushranger inadvertently, or carelessly perhaps, stepped rather too near to Mr. Browne, who stood six feet five inches in his socks, and was proportionately strong. With a whoop Mr. Browne pounced on to him and held him as in a vice. This turned the tables completely. The men on the fence got off, and the bushranger was in his turn securely tied to the fence and kept there until the police could be brought from the nearest town, Bourke, about a hundred and fifty miles away, to conduct him to prison. After this, bushranging does not appear to have been popular in this district.
On the 9th May, 1869, Mr. Henry Kidder Gillham, manager of the Australian Joint Stock Bank at Braidwood, returned home at eight p.m., and entered by the side gate, when a man sprang out from the shadow and called on him to stand. The bushranger presented a revolver, which Mr. Gillham pushed aside, when another man struck him with a life preserver and knocked him down. Two shots were fired from revolvers. Michael Collins, a gardener living on the bank premises, was in the kitchen when the two bushrangers entered. One of them called out: "Not a word, or it will be the worse for you." The tall man had a "Northumberland voice—that is, he could not pronounce the r." They tied Collins, and went out of the kitchen. In the meantime the firing had been heard, and Mr. Finnigan, a teacher, with Sergeant Duffy and Constable Luke Dacy, ran to the bank. When they got there two men ran out of the garden, and after a chase, during which several shots were fired, Joseph Horne was captured. He had no boots on. The other man, John Bollard, escaped at the time, but was tracked and captured subsequently. The Chief Justice, Sir Alfred Stephen, said that Horne had been sentenced to seven years' hard labour at Maitland. He was afterwards convicted in Melbourne and had escaped from Pentridge stockade, having been shot in the shoulder. Horne said that punishment had made him what he was, and pleaded hard for Bollard, who was young and had been enticed from the right path by him. Horne was sentenced to fifteen years' imprisonment and Bollard to ten years.
John Baker and William Bertram divided their attentions between New South Wales and South Australia. In May, 1869, warrants were issued for their arrest for horse stealing from the Mount Murchison station. They took to the road and stuck up a number of people. In October they bailed up a hawker named Charles Young, who resisted and was shot dead. This occurred at the Barrier Ranges, not a great way from where the Broken Hill silver-lead lode was afterwards discovered. Bertram was followed and captured, and was subsequently tried, convicted, and hung at Bathurst. Baker escaped for the time and made his way to Koringa. Said the South Australian Register, "He showed a remarkable want of caution in returning to a district where he had passed his hobble-de-hoy years and was consequently well known." He had been employed as a horse-breaker at the Cross Roads Grounds, Burra Burra, about seven years previously and had afterwards worked for Messrs. Macdonald & Hockin, mail coach proprietors, on the Great Northern Road. On his arrival at Koringa he went into a barber's shop and asked to have his hair cut and dyed. The hairdresser refused to dye it. Baker swore at him, but could not change his determination. The bushranger also grumbled at the time spent in cutting his hair, and continually urged the barber to "hurry up." When the job was completed Baker walked to Redruth, and sat down in the main street opposite the Court House, where the police sessions were being held at the time. There were a number of people about, but Baker sat and cut his tobacco with all the nonchalance of innocence. He filled and lighted his pipe, and was smoking comfortably, when Corporal Smith and Constable Walker came up and said "You're our prisoner." "What for?" asked Baker. "Bushranging," was the short reply. Baker sprang up from his seat, and raced away at a great rate along the road. He was speedily followed by the police on horseback and brought back. He struggled furiously, slipping his hands from the handcuffs with the greatest ease. The police, however, carried him into the lock-up, and put him into a cell. When questioned, he said he had brought a mob of horses down country for sale, and carried a revolver for his own protection. In the same cell was a man named Dobson arrested for horse stealing, who had been quiet until Baker came. But the door was barely closed and locked when the gaoler heard a suspicious noise in the cell. On opening the door he found that Baker and Dobson were trying to make a hole in the roof with a heavy board seat which they had wrenched from its mortice, and were now using as a battering-ram. Baker was placed in another cell and ironed. He was a small wiry man, very active, and a daring rider. In company with Bertram he had stuck up the Mount Murchison station; stuck up Mr. Cobham's station two hundred miles from Wilcannia, and taken money, a revolver, and several horses; stolen the horse he was riding from Mr. O'Leary, of Poolamacca; robbed and murdered a hawker at the Barrier ranges, and stuck up and robbed a number of people on the roads about Tiers, Gummeracha, and other places near the Murray River, on both sides of the New South Wales-South Australian border. When Bertram was captured, Baker endeavoured to induce a young man whom he met to join him, telling him that they could easily raise £200 to £300, but the young fellow replied that he "didn't want to be hung yet." Baker was extradited to New South Wales, and was tried and hung at Bathurst early in 1871.
On May 20th, 1870, The Queanbeyan Age reported the finding of a mail bag near the Big Hill. The bag was still locked and the seal intact, but the bottom had been ripped open. It had evidently, from its appearance, been lying in the bush for a long time, probably several years. It was referred to as "a relic of the bygone bushranging era in the district."
The Muswellbrook and Cassilis coach was stuck up at Wappinguey, on November 1st, 1870, by two armed men. When ordered to bail up, E. Cummins, the driver, enquired "What for?" "You'll soon see. Drive into that bit of scrub," was the reply. Cummins did as he was ordered, and when the coach was out of sight of the road he was made to get down and hold his horses while the robbers went through the letter bags. When they had finished, they told him to gather up the letters and go.
On the 3rd, Mr. Bellamy was lying under his cart asleep, about three miles from Forbes, on the Currajong Road, when he was awakened by some one calling "Come out o' that." He asked what was the matter, and was told to come out unless he wanted his "brains blown out." He crawled from under the tarpaulin which covered his cart, and handed the bushrangers three £1 notes. "Where's the rest? We know what you got for your load at Forbes," said one of the bushrangers. "I paid it away to a man I owed it to," replied Bellamy. "That won't do. You never stopped anywhere; we were watching you. Where is it?" As Bellamy still persisted in saying that he had paid away the money, he was compelled to stand with his face to the wheel and was tied there. A handkerchief was also tied round his head, with the knot thrust into his mouth, as a gag. They shook out Bellamy's blankets, searched the feed-bag of his horses, and hunted everywhere, until at length they discovered thirteen £1 notes tucked under the tilt of the cart. Having secured their booty they cautioned Bellamy not to move for an hour under pain of being shot, and went away. Two of them jumped over the track in what was called the road, to avoid leaving footmarks in the dust, but the third appeared to be stiff and walked across into the bush. After they had been out of sight for a time, Bellamy began to struggle. He capsized the spring cart before he succeeded in breaking the rope, but as soon as he got loose he walked back to Forbes and informed the police of the robbery. The robbers were followed and found in a public-house drinking, a day or two after the robbery.
One day, about this time, a man walked into the branch bank at Cassilis, pointed a pistol at the head of the cashier, and ordered him to "bail up, or I'll blow your brains out." "Will you, by G—?" cried the cashier, as he placed his hands on the counter and vaulted over. The would-be robber was so startled by this unexpected action on the part of the cashier that he dropped his weapon and ran. The cashier immediately gave chase along Main Street, and soon captured and brought back the pseudo bushranger. The news spread rapidly, and in a few minutes the whole population of the little township was in the Main Street. It was soon learned that the only policeman stationed in the town had gone to Mudgee "on a case," the would-be robber was therefore treated to a good cuffing and some threats, and turned adrift. The revolver was found to be old, rusty, and useless, but for some time it hung in the bank chamber as a caution to bushrangers. It may be there yet for all I know. This attempted bank robbery appears to have been conducive to thirst, as the bars of the two "hotels" were crowded for the rest of the day by a laughing and jeering mob of citizens.
This little comedy furnishes a very appropriate finish to the story of the many tragedies which were enacted during this the most serious outbreak of bushranging which has occurred in New South Wales. During the following two or three years the people were gradually becoming convinced that the crime of bushranging had been thoroughly stamped out, and a sort of reaction set in. Letters appeared in the newspapers, in which the writers urged that some clemency might safely be shown to some of the young men who were still in gaol. In spite of the brutal indifference which many of the bushrangers had shown for human life, it was almost impossible to help admiring the reckless courage exhibited by them. One thought was frequently expressed in various ways. It was that these bushrangers would have made magnificent soldiers if they had been properly trained and made amenable to discipline. There was in fact a disposition to regard them much as the philosopher regards dirt, as "matter in the wrong place." Although no record of the movement can be found in the newspapers and other publications of the period, there can be no doubt that the growth of the spirit of humanitarianism, now so prominent a characteristic of the Anglo-Saxon in all parts of the world, had an immense influence. The convict system, which was regarded as the basis of bushranging, had long since passed away. The convicts themselves had almost died out, and had ceased to be a prominent class in the community. Here and there one of the old fellows lingered and told stories of the barbarous times which had once existed in the colonies. But they were generally incapacitated by age from doing much harm. There had been a time when horror and detestation of the convicts was very general, but even these feelings had gone now, and there was a prevalent opinion that the convicts had been made worse by the brutal discipline to which they had been subjected. The very papers which were most strenuous in their exhortations to the Government of the day to stamp out bushranging at any cost, and which urged the police and all orderly citizens to slay and kill any person who interfered with the mails or who molested travellers on the high roads, now admitted that the bushrangers had been harshly dealt with. Those who had been convicted of murder, or of attempts to murder, had been hung or shot, while the lesser criminals had been sentenced to penal servitude for life or for very long periods. The juries all over the country had shown no leanings towards mercy or clemency, and the judges had treated the bushrangers with great severity. The people generally, it was asserted, had given ample proof that they would not tolerate a reign of terror such as the bushrangers had striven so hard to establish, and if there should ever be another outbreak, which was not considered probable, it would be crushed out long before it could possibly assume such vast proportions as it had gained during the past era. If there were evil-disposed persons in the colony they would be aware that public opinion was opposed to them and would hesitate before they decided to adopt bushranging as a profession. It is worthy of note that although the brutalities exercised under the old convict system were said to have tended towards the demoralisation of the community, and were largely responsible for the prevalence of bushranging and other crimes, the practice of flogging for serious offences is still the law in many of the colonies. The general public, however, is seldom logical, and therefore even the Australians still strive to abolish brutal crimes by punishments no less brutal, although the history of the colonies affords such ample evidence of the futility of these means. But the spirit of mercy was abroad. Public meetings were held in all centres of population, petitions were sent to the Governor and the Legislature, and the Press was full of letters praying that mercy might be shown to the evil-doers. The prisoner most frequently mentioned was Frank Gardiner. It is true that he had organised the first gang, and had given a vent to the evil passions of a class. But for him this terrible bushranging era might never have been inaugurated. But he had never committed murder, and had retired from the country and endeavoured to lead a lawful life after only a few months on the road. It had been said that he was engaged in sly grog selling, even when he was ostensibly keeping a store on the road to the diggings in Queensland, but if so it was for the Queensland authorities, not those of New South Wales, to punish him for this offence against the licensing laws. The Queensland authorities had, however, never made any charge against him, and the report might not be true. At length the Chief Justice (the late Sir Alfred Stephen) wrote to the Sydney newspapers. His letter appeared on June 23rd, 1874. Sir Alfred said that the end and aim of all punishment are, first, the preventing of individuals, and secondly, the deterring of other individuals, from the committing of similar crimes.... Sentences aggregating thirty-two years had been passed in a time of great excitement, and the punishment seemed to have been measured more in view of the crimes he was supposed to have committed than with reference solely to those which were proved against him.... He could not say whether the reported reformation was sincere, but he thought that the prisoner had been sufficiently punished and, therefore, recommended a conditional pardon.
Emanating from such a source, this opinion carried great weight, and almost coincident with its publication, the Governor, Sir Hercules Robinson, afterwards Lord Rosmead, laid before the Executive Council six petitions signed by a number of well known and responsible persons in various parts of the colony praying for the release of the convict Gardiner. He said it was true that no hope of an absolute remission of his sentence had ever been held out to him, but in the Governor's minute of December 5th, 1872, it had been implied that if the prisoner continued to conduct himself well he might hope for remission at the end of ten years.
Official returns were laid on the table showing the number of prisoners still in penal servitude for highway robbery. The prisoner whose case attracted most attention next to Gardiner was William Brookman. His parents were said to be respectable. He was only seventeen years of age when he was charged on January 16th, 1868, with wounding with intent to murder. He was convicted and sentenced to death, but his sentence was commuted to fifteen years' penal servitude. It was said to have been his first and only attempt at highway robbery, and he had never previously been arrested or charged with any offence against the law. At the time of this enquiry he had served six and a-half years of his sentence.
The other bushrangers in gaol were:—Samuel Clarke, sentenced April 18th, 1866. Served five years, one month. No previous conviction.
Daniel Shea, sentenced November 6th, 1865. Served eight years, six months. Previously sentenced for two years for horse stealing.
William Willis, alias Dunkley, sentenced May 16th, 1866. Served eight years. Three previous convictions for horse stealing, of nine months, eighteen months, and six months respectively.
Alexander Fordyce, sentenced February 23rd, 1863. Served eleven years, nine months. No previous conviction.
John Payne, sentenced January 14th, 1868. Served six years, six months. No previous conviction.
James Jones, sentenced March 31st, 1864. Served ten years, one month. No previous conviction.
Robert Cotterall, alias Blue Cap, sentenced April 29th, 1868. Served six years, one month. No previous conviction.
James Boyd, alias McGrath, sentenced February 24th, 1864. Served nine years, three months. Previously sent to gaol for five years for horse stealing.
Thomas Cunningham, alias Smith, sentenced April 9th, 1867. Served seven years, one month. No previous conviction.
Charles Hugh Gough, alias Wyndham, alias Bennett, sentenced April 9th, 1867, served seven years, one month. Previously sentenced to three years for assault with intent to rob.
Thomas Dargue, sentenced March 28th, 1867. Served seven years, two months. No previous conviction.
Henry Dargue, sentenced March 28th, 1867. Served seven years, two months. No previous conviction.
John Kelly, sentenced March 11th, 1867. Served seven years, two months. Previously sentenced to two years for embezzlement.
Edward Kelly, sentenced January 14th, 1867. Served six years, seven months. No previous conviction.
James Smith, sentenced April 15th, 1866. Served seven years, one month. Previously sentenced to three years for horse stealing.
John Foran, sentenced October 18th, 1867. Served six years, seven months. No previous conviction.
John Williams, sentenced to death January 14th, 1868. Sentence commuted to fifteen years' penal servitude. Served six years, four months. No previous conviction.
William H. Simmons, sentenced April 6th, 1868. Served six years, one month. Previously sentenced to ten years on two charges of larceny.
William Taverner, sentenced April 5th, 1867. Served five years, one month. No previous conviction.
Daniel Taylor, sentenced October 24th, 1865. Served eight years, one month. No previous conviction.
John Bow, sentenced February 26th, 1863. Sentence death, commuted to imprisonment for life. Served eleven years, six months. No previous conviction.
John Bollard, sentenced October 19th, 1869. Served four years, seven months. No previous conviction.
All these prisoners were very young men, little more than boys, when they were convicted; and, of the twenty-three, sixteen had had no charges brought against them previously to their arrest for highway robbery. The four others who had been previously convicted of horse-stealing were cattle duffers and horse planters, which had been, a few years before, scarcely considered to be crimes by the residents of the districts in which these young men were born; although the law, when it came to be enforced in these districts, called these acts criminal. It was said that if Gardiner was to be released these young men, who had been led away principally by his example, should also have their sentences remitted.
The reports with such comments as had been made on them by the Executive Council were placed before the Legislative Assembly, and on July 3rd a debate began relative to the cases of Gardiner and Brookman, it being understood that the decision in the case of Brookman should apply to the other twenty-two named in the reports. On a division being taken the vote stood twenty-six for and twenty-six against a remission of the sentences. The Speaker gave his casting vote with the ayes, and it was consequently resolved that the two prisoners should be released on July 8th, 1874.
The Governor extended the prerogative of mercy to the others named above, and they were all released at the same time. In the case of Gardiner the pardon was coupled with the condition that he should leave the colony forthwith, consequently a short time after his release he sailed to California, and was reported to have died there about nine years later. Mrs. Brown, his paramour, had died in New Zealand during his incarceration.
The release of the bushrangers was not carried without opposition, however. A monster meeting of diggers was held at Grenfell to protest against any mercy being shown them. Large meetings were held elsewhere, and it was said that remitting the sentences of the bushrangers was tantamount to encouraging other evil-disposed persons to rebel against the laws. The speakers deplored the action of the Governor, the Executive, and the Legislature, and prophesied a new outbreak of lawlessness. But the spirit of the opposition was less active than that of the persons in favour of mercy, while the majority of the population were more or less indifferent. And so ended the great outbreak of bushranging in New South Wales.
Bushranging in Victoria; Robert Bourke; Harry Power: He Escapes from Pentridge Gaol and Sticks Up the Mail; An Amateur Bushranger; The Police Hunt Power Down and Capture him Asleep; A Peacock as "Watch Dog"; The Power Procession at Beechworth; The Trial of Power; His Sentence; Engaged to Lecture on Board the Success; His Death.
While New South Wales was the chief centre of bushranging during this epoch, the neighbouring colonies were not entirely free from the disease. In those cases in which the epidemic flowed, as it were, over the borders of the mother colony—as when Morgan, Thunderbolt, and Bertram crossed into Victoria, Queensland, and South Australia respectively—the inroads have been dealt with in connection with the careers of these particular bushrangers in order not to break the continuity of their stories. Having described the rise and fall of bushranging in the older colony, it is now necessary to return to Victoria and continue the narrative there. Bushranging in this colony during this epoch was rather a survival from the past than a new development, and, with one notable exception, the police dealt promptly with the lawbreakers. The exception will be noticed in due course.
On September 5th, 1862, Mr. Ryan, the landlord of the Travellers' Rest Hotel at Yalla-y-poora, was at breakfast with his family and a visitor named Reid, when two armed men entered the room. One stood at the door, while the other, pistol in hand, stepped forward and cried "Bail up." They tied Messrs. Ryan and Reid, and took ten shillings from the till and ten one pound notes from under the mattress of the bed, where it had been hidden. They did not search the women, but they broke some of the furniture in the bedroom while hunting for the money. One of the robbers pulled the boots off Mr. Reid's feet and put them on his own, leaving a very much worn and damaged pair in their place. They also took Reid's horse, saddle, and bridle from the stable. Mr. Reid told them that he was only a poor man, and that the loss of his horse would ruin him. The robber replied, "Well, he ain't the sort we want. I'll leave him for you at Macpherson's as soon as I get a better one." When they had left Mrs. Ryan untied her husband and their guest, and Ryan mounted his horse and rode to Ararat to give information to the police. Constables Lawler and Griffen followed the bushrangers, and tracked them to a hut near Mount Sturgeon, in the Grampian Ranges. The police expected a fight, but they rushed the hut and captured the robbers without a shot being fired, although one of them named Regent had a loaded revolver in his hand. They were taken to the gaol at Ararat, and were convicted and sentenced in due course.
In July, 1864, a sensation was caused in the Kilmore district by a report which gained currency, that Gardiner and his gang had stuck up a number of people near Yea. A party of volunteers was speedily organised to assist the police in hunting down the bushrangers. The pursuers were divided into small parties, and on the evening of the 20th one of these, composed of Mr. Grant and Constable Buck, came upon three suspicious-looking characters camped on Pack Bullock Flat with a mob of horses. Constable Buck asked where they were going, when one replied "To Melbourne," and another "To the Jordan." Buck called on them to surrender, when one man sprang forward and clutched him by the throat. Another rushed at Grant, who was unarmed. Grant turned and ran to where they had left their horses, calling on Buck to come away, and Buck broke loose and joined him. Buck however lost his revolver in the struggle. They rode away to find help, and returned with Mr. Grant's brother, George Grant, and Mr. Walker. Grant shot one bushranger dead. Walker stunned a second with a blow on the head with the butt of his gun, while Buck captured the third after a smart run. The captured men were convicted of robbery by violence, and it was said that the horses they had with them had been stolen from various stations.
Robert Bourke was employed as cook at Mr. Broughton's, Humewood Station, on the Murrumbidgee River, New South Wales, and appears to have been suddenly affected with the bushranging mania. He ferried himself across the river, and with the assistance of a young lad named Quinn stuck up and robbed several people in the neighbourhood. He was said to "know every bulga from Barren Jack to Manaro," but did not stop long in that district, perhaps because it had already been "worked out" by the Brothers Clarke and other bushrangers. In September, 1868, he crossed the Murray River, and stuck up and robbed travellers on the road near Wodonga and Wangaratta, gradually working southwards. On October 4th he appeared at Mr. Hurst's station, Diamond Creek, about fifteen miles from Melbourne, where a daring attempt was made to capture him. The story is that Bourke called at William Horner's on the 2nd, and asked for a bed. He was told that there was none to spare, when he drew a revolver and cried "Bail up." Horner slammed the door in his face. Bourke fired, and the bullet passed through the door panel, but did no great injury. He tried to push the door open, but, failing in this, he began to "parley." He said he was hungry, and would go away quietly if he was given something to eat. Horner then opened the door and gave him a pannikin of tea and some bread and cold meat. He sat down on a log and made a good meal. When he had finished he asked for some "tucker for the road" and a horse, saddle, and bridle. Horner said that the horses were all down the paddock, and he did not intend to run them in until next morning, but he could have some "tucker." He then gave him a large piece of bread and some meat. They talked together very amicably. Bourke said, "I'm a bushranger from New South Wales, and I've come here to see if your police are as clever as you blow about them. They'll never take me alive." He went away, and, it is supposed, slept in the bush. On the morning of the 4th he went to Hurst's place and asked for some breakfast. Thinking he was an ordinary tramp, Miss Hurst gave him some bread and meat in the kitchen, but, as he sat at table, she noticed that he carried pistols in his belt. She went into another room and informed her brother Henry, who loaded a double-barrelled gun to be ready for any emergency. He walked into the kitchen, carrying the gun behind him, to have a look at their suspicious guest, and asked him where he came from and where he was going? "From Cape Schank to Kilmore," was the reply. "Then you're not travelling in the right direction," remarked young Hurst. Bourke jumped up from the table, as if in a passion, and cried "Do you doubt my word? Do you want to insult me?" He drew his revolver and Hurst brought his gun round and fired. He missed, and Bourke immediately shot him in the chest. Although he was severely wounded young Hurst rushed forward and grappled with the bushranger, while Mr. Abbott and two or three other men ran in to ascertain what the shooting was about. They secured the bushranger and carried young Hurst to bed, but, although every attention was paid to him, he died in a few hours. Bourke was identified by the police as a man who had been sentenced to three years' imprisonment for horse-stealing at Ararat. When he had served his term he was of course discharged and, as was surmised, went to New South Wales and obtained work on a station. He lived quietly for about eighteen months, when he started bushranging as related. He was twenty-five years of age at the date of his conviction for the murder of Henry Hurst.
The central figure in Victoria of this era was undoubtedly Harry Power. This notorious bushranger arrived in Victoria from Ireland shortly before the proclamation of the discovery of gold at Ballarat, and went to the diggings. In March, 1855, he was seen near Daisy Hill, in the Maryborough district, riding a valuable horse, the description of which tallied with that of a horse which had been stolen and for which the police were seeking. He was stopped and challenged to show his receipt for the horse. Instead of producing it or saying where it was deposited, Power disputed the right of the police to stop him on the highway and drew a revolver. The police, very naturally perhaps, took this as a tacit admission that he could not show any right to the horse, and sought to apprehend him. Several shots were fired and at last one of the troopers fell wounded. Power put spurs to his horse and galloped away. A warrant was immediately issued for his arrest and he was followed and captured. He was convicted of "wounding with intent to do grievous bodily harm," and was sentenced to fourteen years' penal servitude. A short time before the expiration of his term he was employed in drawing refuse from the Pentridge Gaol to the rubbish heap in a go-cart. A number of other prisoners were similarly employed. While the cart he was helping to draw was being tipped Power contrived to secrete himself under a corner of the heap. He was not missed until evening, when the prisoners employed at this work were mustered. The prisoners at work with him must of course have been aware of his evasion, but professed ignorance in accordance with convict etiquette. A search was made and his hiding place was discovered, but Power was gone. He stole some clothes from a farm not far from Pentridge, and the blade of an old pair of sheep shears to defend himself with, as he declared that he would not be captured alive. Shortly after his escape, on May 7th, 1869, he stuck up the mail coach near Porepunkah and continued to rob in the Ovens and Beechworth districts for several months, when he made a raid into New South Wales, going as far as Adelong. He returned about the end of September to his old district and stayed there for the remainder of his career.
Commenting on his actions, the Ovens and Murray Advertiser said—"Possessed of a thorough knowledge of the country, this scoundrel has made periodical descents to the settled districts, and afterwards, like a hunted dog, betaken himself to the ranges. From a certain portion of the population he—or whoever else has been masquerading in his name—has received succour and information, while the police have been misled and deceived." The article from which this extract was made was copied and italicised in the Melbourne Argus, and made the subject of a leading article, in which it was contended that if bushranging was to be stamped out the sympathisers and "bush telegraphs" must be restrained from aiding the bushranger with food and information. The Government was urged to pass a special Act to enable the police to contend with the difficulty. It was said on the other hand that the Outlawry Act, if strictly applied, would meet the case.
William Moore, of Buffalo, was returning from a trip to Eldorado, where he had sold his load of farm produce, when a young man rode up and asked him "Where have you been?" "What's that to you?" returned Moore. The young fellow said "I only asked a civil question." "Well," said Moore, "I've been to Eldorado, and I'm going home. Will that satisfy you?" The young man nodded, and cantered on. As he passed, Moore noticed that he had pistols in his belt, and hastily took a roll of notes, worth £35, from his pocket, and thrust it into an empty flour sack in the dray. The young man only rode forward about fifty yards, and then wheeled round, revolver in hand, and cried "Bail up." Moore stopped, and willingly turned out his pockets, displaying a half-crown, which he handed to the robber, who rode away. In reporting this robbery Mr. Moore said that he believed that this was the young man's first attempt at highway robbery, as he trembled violently and seemed glad when it was over. The Ovens and Murray Advertiser of May 7, 1870, in commenting on this case, said: "It shows the necessity of more determined efforts to capture Harry Power, who has for more than a year robbed rich and poor alike in this neighbourhood, and it is the immunity which he has for so long enjoyed that encourages young lads to imitate him."
Shortly before, in April, Patrick Stanton, otherwise known as Jack Muck, was captured after a smart run. He was convicted of having stuck up and robbed a coloured man, a well-known splitter and timber cutter, on the Black Dog Creek. The splitter had been to town to be paid for a number of posts and rails, and was returning home along the Rutherglen Road when he was bailed up.
The Kilmore Free Press reported that Power had been seen in Mr. Dunlop's paddock at Mount William. He was firing at a mark on a tree. No one interfered with him.
On May 2nd, Edward Kelly was arrested at Greta and was charged with having assisted Power in some of his robberies. He was not identified by the witnesses, and was therefore discharged.
On the 27th Superintendents Nicholson and Hare, Sergeant Montford, and Black-tracker Donald left Wangaratta and made a journey into the ranges near the head of the King River. It was believed that they had received special information from a friend of the bushranger. At the head of the glen, near where Power's camp was, a family named Quinn resided, and it was said that Power would never be caught while they were there. The Quinns owned several dogs and a peacock, which it was believed would never allow any person to pass up the ravine without giving notice. The peacock was reported to be the "best watch dog of the lot." His screams could be heard far away whenever a stranger approached the hut, and he generally gave the first signal, and thus roused the dogs. On this occasion, however, the police passed without either the peacock or the dogs giving a sign. They came to a hollow tree with holes in the stem. This tree had been mentioned as "Power's look-out," and it was reported that he frequently went into it to survey the country round, through the holes, without exposing himself. There was plenty of room inside for more than one man, and the natural holes formed by the decay of the tree had been added to by augur holes bored at a convenient height for spying through. They examined it, but it was empty. All round was a dense growth of cherry and wattle scrub, which they cautiously pushed their way through, and peeped into a small clearing. A gunyah of bark stood in the middle of this space, and before it was a fire burning. Creeping cautiously up, the police saw a man's leg sticking out from under the gunyah. One of them seized it, and drew the man out on his back. It was Harry Power. He had been lying asleep under the impression that he was perfectly safe. He gave a loud howl on being thus rudely awakened, and then asked, "Who are you?" "The police," was the reply. "No fear," said Power; "you couldn't have got past Quinn's; the dogs and the peacock would not have let you." "We did," replied Inspector Nicholson; "the dogs and the peacock never saw us, but there were several men there and Quinn himself—they saw us." "You've given us a great deal of trouble, Power," said Inspector Hare, "but we've got you at last." "I'm very sorry I didn't hear you," remarked Power; "I'd have dropped some of you if I had."