CHAPTER IV.

Bushranging in New South Wales; Manufacturing Bushrangers; Employing Bushrangers; The First Bank Robbery in Australia; Major Mudie and his Assigned Servants; Terrible Hollow; Murder of Dr. Wardell; The Story of Jack the Rammer; Hall Mayne and Others.

Bushranging of the more serious character with which we are concerned, appears to have begun in New South Wales in about 1822. In that year thirty-four bushrangers were hung in Sydney. The crimes for which these men were executed were generally of a petty description. Robberies of articles from the farms had become so prevalent that it was deemed expedient to adopt severe measures, but beyond removing so many evil-doers and preventing them from continuing their depredations, this severity of the judicial authorities does not appear to have had much effect. Bushranging not only continued, but the bushrangers became bolder and operated over a wider area. On March 16th, 1826, a desperate fight took place between a party of mounted troopers and seven bushrangers near Bathurst. The Blue Mountains had only been crossed thirteen years before, and the settlement was a very small one. The leader of the gang, Morris Connell, was shot dead by Corporal Brown, and the other bushrangers ran away into the bush.

The Sydney Monitor of September 22nd reports that a shepherd on Mr. H. Macarthur's run at Argyle ran away into the bush. He was captured, and taken to Goulburn to be tried for absconding. He complained that he had not received his proper allowance of rations, and had gone to seek for food. He was of course found guilty, and, when sentenced to be flogged, he sulkily said, "It's in the power of the likes of me to have revenge when lambing time comes round." For this threat he was sent to Liverpool for trial. He was convicted, and as a warning to other shepherds he was sentenced to receive five hundred lashes and to be transported to a penal settlement for life. The Monitor denounced this sentence as being "unduly harsh," and spoke of the heavy sentences given whenever the Rev. Samuel Marsden, Principal Chaplain of New South Wales, took his seat on the Bench. The chaplains were at that time all ex officio magistrates, and the Rev. Samuel Marsden was said to be very active in the discharge of this portion of his duties. It is of Mr. Marsden that Mr. J.T. Bigge says "His sentences are not only more severe than those of other magistrates, but the general opinion of the colony is that his character, as displayed in the administrations of the penal law of New South Wales, is stamped with severity."[32] Judging from the sentence under notice, it does not appear that the reverend gentleman had become any more merciful since Commissioner Bigge compiled his report some years before. The Monitor charged him with "helping to manufacture bushrangers." In this connection I may mention that the opinion expressed by the "old hands" was that the clerical magistrates were generally far more cruel and brutal than the lay magistrates, and this opinion was crystallised into a cant phrase which was current among the old hands many years later. It was "The Lord have mercy on you, for his reverence will have none." This phrase was used on all occasions, whether it was appropriate or not to the subject under discussion or the circumstances of the time.

In the Windsor Court on February 10th, 1827, Mr. McCarthy was fined £14 10s., including costs, for having employed a returned bushranger instead of handing him over to the police for punishment. About the same time a bushranger was charged in Sydney with having bailed up a settler's house and compelled him to hand over some money and a bottle of wine. Taking the wine was an aggravation of the offence which was more than the worthy magistrate could stand. "What right," he demanded of the delinquent, "have you to drink wine? Do you not know, you rascal, that when you were convicted you forfeited all rights?" "Yes, your honour," replied the culprit, "But, I didn't forfeit my appetite."

The robbery of the Bank of Australia does not properly, perhaps, come under the head of bushranging, but as the later bushrangers made bank robbery a feature of their depredations the record would not be complete if this, the first and in some respects the most remarkable of the bank robberies which have taken place in Australia, was omitted. The Bank of Australia was established in 1826 and was spoken of as the "new bank" to distinguish it from the older Bank of New South Wales. It was also sometimes called "the squatters' bank." Its president was Mr. John Macarthur, the first of the squatters. It was situated in George Street, Sydney. The strong room was constructed under ground, and had walls nine feet thick. Near the foundation of the bank was a large drain or shore, one of the openings of which was on an unoccupied plot of ground on the opposite side of the street to that in which the bank stood. The other end of the drain terminated on the shore of the harbour. Into this drain the thieves must have entered, and judging from the amount of work done and the quantity of the remains of provisions found afterwards they must have been at work for a week or more. As they were too deep underground for the strokes of their picks or hammers to be heard, they may have worked night and day. However that may be, they took the bricks out of the side of the drain facing the bank and then dug a tunnel until they reached the foundations of the bank. How they disposed of the earth dug out is not known, but it was surmised that they carried it away in bags. With great labour they dislodged a stone at the corner of the foundations, and then gradually enlarged the hole until there was sufficient room for a man to get through. Having effected an entrance in this way into the strong room, they found there forty boxes each containing £100 worth of British silver coins; a smaller box containing two thousand sovereigns; a box containing one thousand dollars, and another containing five hundred dollars. But the robbers took only the two boxes containing dollars and seven of the forty boxes containing British silver; leaving thirty-three boxes of silver and the box of sovereigns. They took also some bundles of bank notes, amounting to between ten and twelve thousand pounds worth. The forty boxes of silver weighed a ton, and it was believed that the thieves had been disturbed by some noise before they had time to remove so great a quantity. The locks on the boxes left in the vault were found to have been so rusted by damp as to be useless. No arrests were made and no traces of the robbers could be found. Notifications were issued denying that the loss, heavy as it was, would affect the stability of the bank, but it appears that it never recovered. In 1833 it was re-organised. In 1845 the Government passed a Lottery Bill to enable the bank to raise money, but to no purpose. The bank failed in 1848 and caused a great many other failures and much distress. The robbery was discovered on September 15th, 1828, and was reported in the Monitor of the 20th.

There has been much speculation in Sydney from time to time as to what became of the money stolen, and it has been reported that the thieves buried it somewhere on the shores of Snail's, or White Bay, or some other place on the opposite side of the Harbour to Sydney, but although several persons have searched for the hidden treasure, it has not yet been found. There is a somewhat similar legend of buried treasure at North Sydney. The story is, that a sum of money variously stated at one thousand and two thousand guineas, sent out in early times from England to pay the troops, was stolen from the ship while she lay at her anchor and was buried either near Mosman's Bay or Great Sirius Cove. This also has been searched for at various times but hitherto without success. What truth there is in these legends it is now impossible to say.

John Poole, James Ryan, and James Riley, assigned servants of Mr. John Larnack, son-in-law of Major James Mudie, of Castle Forbes estate, Patrick's Plains, Hunter River district, took to the bush on November 4th, 1833. Three other assigned servants, Anthony Hitchcock, alias Hath, Samuel Parrott or Powell, and David Jones, were sent away the following morning, in charge of constable Samuel Cook, to Maitland, under sentence of twelve months, in a chain gang for insubordination. About half-a-mile from Castle Forbes, Poole, Ryan, and Riley, and another man named John Perry, who had been in the bush for some time previously, met the constable and called on him to stand or they would shoot him. Cook only had a pistol with him and he snapped it at the robbers and then surrendered. The robbers took the pistol from him, led him some distance off the road and tied him to a tree. Parrott refused to go with the bushrangers and was tied to a tree near Cook. The robbers went back to Mr. Larnack's house which they reached about noon. They called upon Mrs. Larnack to stand, but she and one of the female servants jumped through a window and ran. Perry followed them and brought them back, threatening to blow Mrs. Larnack's brains out if she refused to do as she was told. The robbers took a double-barrelled gun which was always kept loaded in Mr. Larnack's room, and some guns and fowling pieces from the dining-room. Hitchcock brought the shearers from the shed, walking behind them and threatening to shoot any man who resisted. The robbers broke open the door of the store and put the shearers inside. They emptied a chest of tea into a bag, took bags of flour, sugar, and other provisions from the store, and fastened up the door leaving Perry on guard. They took a quantity of pork from the kitchen, a bucket of milk from the dairy, and the silver-plate and other valuables from the house. Then, having made the shearers secure in the store and locked Mrs. Larnack and the female servants in the kitchen, they went away after having told Mrs. Larnack that they were sorry "the old——," the Major, was not at home, as they wanted to settle him. One of them also expressed sorrow at the absence of Mr. Larnack, and added that when they could catch him they would "stick his head on the chimney for an ornament." As soon as the news of the robbery became known, a party was organised to follow the bushrangers. Mr. Robert Scott, mounted trooper Daniel Craddige, and a party of five came up with the robbers at Mr. Reid's station, Lamb's Valley. Some shots were exchanged and then Jones and Perry ran away. Constable Craddige followed them and called on them to stand, and they did so. He took them back and by that time Mr. Scott and the rest of the pursuing party had captured Hitchcock, Poole and Riley. The boy Ryan got away in the scrub but was discovered and caught next day. Alexander Flood, overseer to Messrs. Robert and Helenes Scott, with two constables, took charge of the prisoners, and conducted them safely to Maitland for trial. Mr. John Larnack then said that on the morning of the 5th of November before the attack was made on the house, he was at the sheep-wash. The prisoners came up and said to the washers, "Come out of the water, every—— one of you, or we'll blow your—— brains out." Larnack jumped into the water among the washers. Hitchcock fired at him shouting, "You'll never take me to court again, you——." He called on the washers to get out of the way and let him shoot the——. Poole also said, "I'll take care you never get another man flogged." Larnack scrambled out of the wash-pool on the opposite side to where the robbers were, and ran to the timber. He went on to Mr. Danger's farm, and remained there till next day. He was only ten yards distant when Hitchcock fired at him. Shots from the other bushrangers struck the water within twelve and eighteen inches of him, but none of them hit him. The robbers had four double-barrelled guns, two single-barrelled fowling pieces, a musket, and two pistols, when they were captured. When asked what they had to say in defence, Hitchcock called Ensign Zouch and other gentlemen to speak as to his character. It appears that until he was assigned to Major Mudie and Mr. Larnack, he had always been well behaved. The prisoners complained that they were given short rations, that the flour was mouldy and the meat bad, and that they were repeatedly flogged. Some of them had been flogged for refusing to work on Sunday. Hitchcock had been sentenced to work in an iron gang, for an offence of which he knew nothing. Whatever punishment was threatened by the master was sure to be inflicted by the Bench. Jones was acquitted of the capital offence, but was sent to Norfolk Island for life. The other five prisoners were sentenced to death, Hitchcock and Poole being hung at Maitland, and Ryan, Perry and Riley at Sydney. An enquiry was held as to the alleged illusage of their assigned servants, by Major Mudie and Mr. Larnack, and they were acquitted by Governor Bourke of the charges of tyranny and ill-treatment, but Major Mudie's name was removed from the Commission of the Peace. On his return to the station after the result of the enquiry had become known, he was greeted with cries of "No more fifties now, you bloody old tyrant."[33]

The beautiful valley of Burragorang is enclosed on all sides by precipitous mountains, there being only one practicable entrance, which, in early times, before a government road was cut into it for the convenience of the farmers who now occupy the valley, was easily blocked with a few saplings, so that sheep, cattle, or horses turned into the valley could not escape. Precisely how the entrance to this extensive enclosure was first found is not known. It is believed, however, that it was discovered by a party of bushrangers, who endeavoured to discover a road over the Blue Mountains, in order to reach a settlement of white men, which was popularly supposed to lie somewhere in that direction. Whether this supposed settlement was a Dutch or an English settlement does not appear, but as I have already said, there was a wide-spread belief that some of these settlements were at no very great distance from Sydney, and could be reached overland. The valley is situated only about fifty-four miles from Sydney, and for many years was an absolutely secure hiding-place for bushrangers and their plunder. Later on the valley came to be known, from the horrible tales told of the convicts who made use of it, as "Terrible Hollow," and under this name it is introduced by Rolf Boldrewood in his "Robbery under Arms." Among the old hands themselves it was known as "The Camp," "The Shelter," or "The Pound." Bark huts were erected in this valley by the bushrangers, and here they retired when hard pressed or when wounded. When the secret of the entrance was betrayed to the soldiers, who were out in search of a party of bushrangers, it was evident that the valley had been long in use by the bushrangers. Cattle and sheep were running wild there, numbers of broken shackles, handcuffs, and other relics were found, and, besides these, evidences that several murders had been committed there; but there are no records of these events, and only the recollections of the legends which have been handed down among the old hands remain to explain why this beautiful valley should have been called "Terrible Hollow." One of these legends may be told somewhat as follows: A settler was reported to have received a large sum of money. This became known to the bushrangers and they determined to rob him of it. They bailed up his place, tied his assigned servants, and searched everywhere for the money but could not find it. The settler declared that he had not received the money, but was not believed. He was threatened with death if he refused to disclose its hiding place. He persisted in his assertion that he had no money, and a consultation was held by the bushrangers to decide what should be done with him. Some were for shooting him there and then; but, this was so evidently not the way to extort money, if he had any, that it was resolved to take him to "the camp," and there force him to say where the money was hidden. When they got him there they tied him to a sapling, built a circle of bushwood round him at some distance away, set fire to it, and slowly roasted him to death. His screams are said to have been fearful, but no one heard them in that solitude except the fiends who were torturing him, and they had been rendered too callous, by treatment little less fiendish by the authorities, to heed his agonised cries. Whether this story is literally true or not it is impossible to say, but certainly charred remains of human bones were discovered in the valley when it was searched, though whether the bodies had been burned before or after death could not, of course, be determined.

It was to this valley that Will Underwood and his gang were said to retire when hard pressed or when they required a rest. Underwood operated on the roads about Campbelltown, Liverpool, Penrith, and Windsor, sometimes sticking-up people, and robbing farms on Liberty Plains and other places between Parramatta and Sydney. The gang was a large one and continued to operate in the more populous districts for some two years. Among the members of this gang were Johnny Donohoe, Webber, and Walmsley. Donohoe was shot by a trooper named Maggleton, near Raby, in September, 1830. Webber was shot a month later, and Walmsley was captured in another skirmish between the troopers and the bushrangers. Walmsley was sentenced to death, but was reprieved for disclosing the names of "fences," or receivers of stolen property, and his revelations caused quite a sensation, a number of hitherto highly respected persons being implicated. Underwood was shot in 1832, and shortly afterwards a "traitor" is said to have led a party of soldiers into Terrible Hollow. There was a fight between the troops and the bushrangers found there at the time, and several of the bushrangers were captured and the gang was broken up. The evil reputation which the valley had acquired, at first prevented settlement there, but when the bushrangers and their doings had been forgotten, the Government threw the valley open for selection, and a number of farms were taken up or purchased. More recently, a line has been surveyed for a railway to the valley, but this line has not yet been constructed. In the meantime, a good road has been opened into the valley through the one practicable entrance, and those who visit the valley now for the first time, can scarcely credit the horrible stories which have been told in connection with it.

One Sunday in September, 1834, Dr. Robert Wardell, a practising barrister in Sydney, and editor of The Australian, was riding across his park, which stretched from the Parramatta road, where the municipality of Petersham now stands, to Cook's river, to look after his herd of fallow deer, of which he was very proud. He jumped his horse over a log and found himself confronted by three armed men. Thinking they were poachers after his deer, he reined his horse in and cried, "What are you doing here, you rascals?" The reply was a shot from one of the guns, and the doctor fell. His horse galloped to the house and alarmed the family. Men were despatched in all directions to seek for the doctor, who it was believed had somehow been thrown and injured. The search was continued all day and night, but with no result. The next day his body was found covered over with boughs, apparently to prevent the dingoes from tearing it rather than to hide it. John Jenkins, Thomas Tattersdale and Emanuel Brace were arrested on suspicion and charged with the murder. Evidence was produced that they had been seen in the neighbourhood, and they were committed for trial. Brace was a lad who had only recently been sent to the colony, and before the day of trial he consented to turn King's evidence. From his testimony it appeared that Jenkins was the man who had fired the gun. But both he and Tattersdale were hung for the crime, and it was said that they had been guilty of various acts of bushranging. After the doctor's death the herd of fallow deer was neglected. Some were sold, and their descendants may still be seen in the park at Parramatta, and elsewhere. A large number, however, escaped, and the late Mr. Charles Hearn, for many years landlord of the Stag's Head Inn, on the Parramatta road, about five miles from the Sydney Town Hall, used to boast that he shot the last of Dr. Warden's deer about where the Callan Park Lunatic Asylum now stands.

The story of Jack the Rammer illustrates the relationship which sometimes existed between the bushrangers and the assigned servants, and indicates the difficulties with which law-abiding citizens had to cope. Jack had been living by robbery in the Manaro district for some time. One day Mr. Charles Fisher Shepherd, the overseer of the Michelago sheep station, said something about all bushrangers being cowards. One of the assigned servants on the station, named Bull, replied, "They'll be here next." "If they come here," exclaimed Shepherd, "I'll give them a benefit." A few nights afterwards Shepherd was asleep in his hut. He was awakened by someone calling on him to come out. After a time he did so, and saw Jack the Rammer and a man named Boyd standing at the door. Jack cried out to him, "Keep your hands down." They stood for a second or two regarding him, and then Jack said, "What a benefit you're giving us." The two bushrangers then walked away. Although he felt convinced that Bull was in league with the bushrangers and had reported his speech to them and that he probably could not expect any assistance from the other assigned servants on the station, Shepherd loaded his gun with No. 4 shot, the largest he had, and started off after the bushrangers. It was about daybreak on a beautiful December morning in 1834, probably between three and four o'clock, and the air was soft and balmy as he made his way through the bush in the direction in which the bushrangers had gone. After travelling some distance he came on a sort of a camp, and saw Boyd through the trees. He kneeled down and fired, but missed. He was about to fire the other barrel when Bull stepped from behind a tree close by, and said "Don't shoot him, sir." "By G——, I will," exclaimed Shepherd. "If you fire, by G——, I'll shoot you," returned Bull. Before Shepherd could reply another bushranger named Keys fired at him from behind a tree, and wounded him. Shepherd rushed forward, and was about to close with Keys when Boyd ran up and fired, wounding Shepherd in the head. Keys seized him, but Shepherd shook himself free, and ran back to the station. He went to the house, roused up the owner, and said to him, "Good God, Catterall, I'm shot all to pieces, and you never help me." "What's the good?" returned Catterall. "What can I do?" Just then the bushrangers came up, and Catterall went in and shut the door. Shepherd rushed across to his own hut, and tried to shut himself in, but Boyd thrust the barrel of his gun in in time to prevent him. Shepherd seized the gun and tried to wrench it out of Boyd's hands, but Keys pushed the door open and struck Shepherd on the head. Shepherd fell, and Boyd put the muzzle of his gun close against his chest and pulled the trigger. The bushrangers, including Bull, then went away. It was some hours later when Shepherd regained consciousness, and yelled out as loud as he could. He continued calling for some minutes, and at last Catterall came out of the house and went to the hut. "Why," he said, as he looked at Shepherd, "I thought you were dead." He went away, but soon returned with several of the station hands, and had Shepherd carried into the house and put to bed. He sent for a doctor and the police. When the doctor arrived he took fourteen slugs and bullets out of various parts of Shepherd's body. He recovered, and lived for many years afterwards. In the meantime the police followed the bushrangers, and shot Boyd as he was trying to escape by swimming across the Snowy River. Keys and Bull were captured, and were subsequently hung. Jack the Rammer escaped for a time, but was shot a few months later.

On September 24th, 1838, the bushrangers Hall and Mayne stuck up Mr. Joseph Roger's station at Currawang, near Yass. As they approached the kitchen door the men inside rushed out, and the bushrangers fired among them. A lad named Patrick Fitzpatrick was struck in the mouth, the bullet coming out at the crown of his head. Three of the men were wounded. The bushrangers appear to have regretted their act as soon as it was done. They made no attempt to get away, but assisted to carry the wounded men into the kitchen. Hall had been captured previously, but had succeeded in escaping from the Goulburn Gaol shortly before this attack on Mr. Roger's station. When sentenced to death, he said, "I've been all over the country in my time without taking the life of any one. I've been baited like a bull dog and I'm only sorry now that I didn't shoot every—— tyrant in New South Wales." When taken from the court-house to the gaol, he said to the crowd assembled there, "I've never had anything to say against the prisoners, but I've a grudge against every—— swell in the country. I'll go to the gallows and die as comfortably as a biddy and be glad of the chance." The trial took place on May 15th, 1839, and between then and the date fixed for the execution. Hall made a desperate attempt to escape from Darlinghurst Gaol. He failed and was hung on June 7th, with Michael Welsh, Donald Maynard, and his mate, Mayne.

In January, 1839, Mr. Bailley was returning to his home on the Parramatta Road, Sydney, when he was knocked down and beaten by three men near his own door. They took a roll of bank notes from his pocket, but a vehicle driving rapidly approached and frightened them so that they dropped the notes and ran. Mr. Bailley picked them up and went indoors.

CHAPTER V

John Lynch; Murder of Kearns Landregan; Lynch's Trial and Sentence; His Terrible Confession; Murder of the Frazers, Father and Son; Murder and Cremation of the Mulligans; His Appeals to Almighty God.

John Lynch is usually regarded as the most callous and brutal of the bushrangers of New South Wales. He was transported from Cavan, Ireland, in October, 1831. For some months after his arrival in the colony he worked in a road gang in the neighbourhood of Sydney and was then assigned to Mr. Barton as a farm servant. Soon after his arrival at the farm, near Berrima, he appears to have exercised his ingenuity in stealing any articles which he could find and of selling them to any person who would buy them. In 1835 was arrested and tried at Berrima on a charge of having stolen a saddle from his employer but was acquitted. He "bolted" into the bush and a few days afterwards a man named Thomas Smith, who had been witness in a case of highway robbery, was found dead in the scrub. Several bushrangers were arrested. Lynch being among them, on suspicion of having decoyed Smith from his hut and beaten his brains out with clubs as "a warning to traitors," as all those were called who gave evidence against bushrangers. Lynch was again acquitted, but two others were hung for the murder. During the following two or three years he was sentenced to twelve months' imprisonment for having harboured bushrangers, and on February 21st, 1841, he was arrested at "Mulligan's Farm" and charged with the murder of Kearns Landregan. On the 19th, Mr. Hugh Tinney was travelling to Sydney with his bullock dray and camped for the night at Ironstone Bridge. The next morning his driver walked along the creek bank to look for the bullocks. He noticed some freshly cut scrub piled up, and, being curious to know what it had been placed there for, he pulled some branches away and discovered the newly-murdered body of a man. On examining further, he found that the head had been fearfully cut and battered. Round the neck was a piece of string, and to this were attached an Agnus Dei and a temperance medal. Mr. Tinney sent Sturges, the bullock-driver, to Berrima to give information, and he returned with Chief Constable Noel, Mr. James Harper, the police magistrate, and Dr. McDonald. On search being made, signs of a camp were found not far away. A small fire had been lighted as if to boil a quart pot of tea, and some remains of hay were found, showing that a horse had been fed there. It was noticed that grey hairs were scattered about where the horse had rolled, and therefore it was evident that the horse was of that colour. During the day investigations were made by the police, and the following morning Chief Constable Chapman, Sergeant Freer, and Mr. John Chalker, landlord of the Woolpack Inn, Nattai, went to Mulligan's Farm, Wombat Brush, and identified John Dunleavy, as John Lynch, a prisoner illegally at large. When arrested on the charge of having murdered Kearns Landregan, Lynch exclaimed: "I am innocent, I leave it to God and man. I don't blame you, Chapman, but Chalker is interfering too much in what doesn't concern him."

A grey horse was found at the farm, and Chalker identified this as the horse which Lynch had been driving when he stopped at the Woolpack for dinner. Lynch had "shouted" for Landregan and the landlord before leaving, and Chalker gave him a bundle of hay for the horse. The hay was rye grass, similar to that found at the camp.

Lynch was tried at Berrima on March 21st, 1842, before the Chief Justice, Sir James Dowling. Mary Landregan said that the body found was that of her husband. The temperance medal had been given to him by Father Mathew before they left Ireland. They were both teetotallers, and had come to Australia as free immigrants. Her husband had about £40 when he left his last place and started to look for another job. She had not seen him since, but he had sent word, by Susan Beale, servant at Mr. Chalker's hotel, that he had engaged to put up fencing and do other work for Mr. Dunleavy for £15.

A leather belt on which the words "Jewish Harp" had been scratched, apparently with the point of a knife, was found at the farm, and was identified as the property of Kearns Landregan by his brother, who said that Kearns had promised to meet him at a public-house of that name in the neighbourhood, and had scratched the name on his belt so that he might remember it.

Further evidence showed that Lynch had purchased, at the Post Office Stores, Berrima, on the 20th February, a merino dress, some women's caps, a pair of child's shoes, and some tobacco. He was served by Mrs. Mary Higgins and gave her a £5 note in payment. From the store he went to Michael Doyle's, White Horse Hotel, and bought two gallons of rum, four gallons of wine, half a chest of tea, and a bag of sugar. He gave his name as John Dunleavy, Wombat, and said he had taken Mulligan's farm. He gave six £1 notes and a note of hand for £5 2s. in payment. The goods were placed in a cart drawn by a grey horse. Some of the Bank notes were identified as having been among those carried by Landregan.

There were a number of witnesses, and the case against the prisoner with regard to the murder of Landregan was very clear. It was also stated that Mr. and Mrs. Mulligan and their two children had disappeared suddenly, and that there was a suspicion that they had been murdered. Lynch produced a letter dated from Wollongong purporting to have been signed by Mulligan, but the writing was said to be unlike that of Mulligan. Several other mysterious disappearances were also spoken of. When asked what he had to say Lynch replied that he had met Landregan on the road, and Landregan asked him to carry his swag for him. Landregan said he had been gambling at McMahon's public-house, and must have left his money there. Lynch told him to get up and ride as far as he was going his way. When they reached Bolland's, Lynch asked Landregan to have a drink, but Landregan refused, saying that his wife was there, and that he did not want her to see him. When they got a little further along the road Landregan got down, took his swag, and walked away into the bush, and he had not seen him since. Lynch complained that he had been treated very unfairly. He had, he said, been sent out for seven years, but had been treated as a "lifer." He had served his time fairly, but he could not get his rights. When his father died in Ireland he had left him between £600 and £700. That was how he bought Mulligan's farm.

Lynch was found guilty, and, in passing sentence, his Honour said: "John Lynch, the trade in blood which has so long marked your career is at last terminated, not by any sense of remorse, or the sating of any appetite for slaughter on your part, but by the energy of a few zealous spirits, roused into activity by the frightful picture of atrocity which the last tragic passage of your worthless life exhibits. It is now credibly believed, if not actually ascertained, that no less than nine other individuals have fallen by your hands. How many more have been violently ushered into another world remains undiscovered, save in the dark pages of your own memory. By your own confession it is admitted that as late as 1835 justice was invoked on your head for a frightful murder committed in this immediate neighbourhood. Your unlucky escape on that occasion has, it would seem, whetted your tigrine relish for human gore—but at length you have fallen into toils from which you cannot escape." His Honour quoted from the evidence at length, and said that the prisoner had "spared neither age nor youth in gratifying his sordid lust for gain." The disappearance of the Mulligans had not been accounted for, but there could be little doubt that the prisoner knew what their fate was. He concluded his exordium by saying that too much praise could not be bestowed, "not merely on the police, but upon the inhabitants of the neighbourhood, in unravelling the dark mystery of Landregan's death, and bringing his blood home to your door." He then pronounced sentence in the usual form.

The prisoner listened throughout with an unmoved countenance, and when the Judge had finished he said he hoped his Honour would order that the small amount due as wages to the Barnetts should be paid. They were innocent of any complicity in the offence with which he had been charged, and he hoped they would soon be released from gaol. There was also £1 due to a boy who had been working on the farm, and he hoped this would also be paid. Whatever had happened at the farm it had happened before either the Barnetts or the boy went there, and they knew nothing about it. For some days after his sentence John Lynch continued to assert that he was innocent, but finding, as is supposed, that there was no hope of a reprieve, he asked to see the Rev. Mr. Sumner on the day before that fixed for his execution, and in the presence of the police magistrates and the minister, made a very extraordinary confession, of which the following is a brief summary:—

He arrived in the colony in 1832 in the Dunvegan Castle. The entry on his indent was:—"False pretences; sentence, life." This was wrong. He had only been sentenced to seven years' penal servitude. He had applied to the authorities at the Hyde Park Barracks for his free papers, but had been kept waiting a fortnight without getting any satisfaction. So he returned to the Berrima district, where he had been assigned. He went to John Mulligan for advice and assistance. Mulligan had a lot of goods and valuables, which Lynch is supposed to have stolen and left at the farm. He wanted to sell them, but Mulligan refused to give a fair price for them. Lynch had made up his mind to live honestly, but this treatment disgusted him. He complained bitterly of the dishonesty of men who were in a good position and who "ought to have known better." He left Mulligan's and went to T.B. Humphrey's farm at Oldbury and stole eight bullocks, which he had himself broken in, and started with them for Sydney, with the intention of selling them, so that he might "start honest." At Mount Razorback he fell in with a man named Ireland, who was in charge of a loaded team belonging to Mr. Thomas Cowper. The load was a valuable one, consisting of wheat, bacon, and other farm produce. Lynch thought it would pay him better to kill Ireland and take possession of the dray and its load than to sell Mr. Humphrey's bullocks. He therefore camped with Ireland that night, and "they were very friendly." In the morning a black boy who accompanied Ireland went to look for the bullocks, and Lynch followed and killed him. He returned to the camp without his absence having been noticed by Ireland, and watched for a chance. Ireland had no suspicion of foul play, and Lynch soon got near enough to him to strike him a blow with his tomahawk. Lynch hid the bodies in a cleft between two rocks, and piled stones over them. He remained at the camp two days. On the second day two other teams arrived at the camp in charge of men named Lee and Lagge, and they all agreed to travel together for company. When near Liverpool Mr. Cowper rode up and was surprised to find a stranger in charge of his dray. Lynch told him a plausible story to the effect that Ireland had been taken suddenly ill, and had asked him to take the team on. The black boy had stayed behind to nurse Ireland, and they were to follow as soon as Ireland got well enough. Mr. Cowper believed him and was satisfied, and after making enquiries as to where Ireland was stopping, arranged with Lynch where they should meet in Sydney. The time and place having been agreed on, Mr. Cowper rode away. Lee and Lagge were bound for Parramatta, and therefore, when they reached the junction of the Dog Trap Road with the Liverpool Road, they parted company with Lynch, who kept straight on. Left by himself, Lynch drove on night and day, reaching Sydney two days before the time appointed for him to meet Mr. Cowper. He hired a man who was half drunk to sell the loading, and as soon as he had received the money for the loading he started away with the team on the Illawarra Road. When near George's river he met Chief Constable McAlister, of Campbelltown, and fearing that he might have been recognised, he turned off the road on to a cross track leading towards the Berrima road. He knew there would soon be a hue and cry after him and feared that McAlister would report having met him on the Illawarra road. He travelled on until he came back to Razorback, near where the murder had been committed. Here he met the Frazers, father and son, driving a horse team owned by Mr. Bawten. He kept company with them and they camped together at Bargo Brush. Another horse team with which there were two men and their wives also camped there. After their supper Lynch was lying under his dray when a mounted trooper rode up and asked Frazer some questions about a dray which had been stolen, and which belonged to Mr. Cowper. The Frazers were unable to give him any information and the trooper rode away without noticing Lynch, who was lying under the very dray he was enquiring about. This narrow escape gave Lynch a terrible shock. He lay awake all night thinking of the danger he was running by keeping this dray. He "prayed to Almighty God to assist and enlighten" him in this emergency, and feeling much strengthened he resolved to kill the Frazers and take their dray. Having arrived at this decision he became calmer and thought out the details of his plan carefully. In the morning Lynch left the camp under the pretence that he was going to look for his bullocks, but in reality to drive them away. On his return he reported that he could not find them and spoke of the trouble bullocks gave by their wandering habits. He asked the Frazers to help him to pull his dray into the bush where he could leave it safely until he could return with another team of bullocks and take it home. There was nothing surprising in this, as bullocks frequently stray away home as soon as they are unyoked and will travel astonishing distances, even when hobbled, before morning. The Frazers, therefore, helped Lynch to drag the dray away from the road to where there was a clump of trees, and then yoked up their horses. Lynch put such few things as he had in the dray into Frazer's cart, and they all started together. That night they camped at Cordeaux Flat. In the morning young Frazer started to find the horses, and Lynch accompanied him. Lynch wore a coat because, he said, it was rather cold. As a fact, it was to hide his tomahawk. When they were in the bush, out of sight of the camp. Lynch found "no difficulty in settling him." He struck one blow, and "the young fellow fell like a log of wood." Lynch returned to the camp leading one horse, and said the lad was looking for the other. This made Frazer very uneasy, not on account of his son, but because he had never known the horses to part company before, and feared that some one must have stolen the other horse. He "fidgeted about" until Lynch, who had been watching for an opportunity, got behind him and "struck him one blow and killed him dead." Lynch buried the two bodies a little way off the road and remained at the camp all day. The next morning he drove through Berrima to Mulligan's farm. He told Mrs. Mulligan that the dray and horses belonged to a gentleman in Sydney. He asked her for the £30 which he said her husband owed him for the articles which he had left at the farm, and which he had obtained by burglary and highway robbery. Mrs. Mulligan assured him on oath that all she had in the house was £9. Lynch felt sure she was only "putting him off," and felt very much discouraged. He walked to Mr. Gray's, Black Horse Inn, about three miles down the road, and bought two bottles of rum. On his return he gave some to Mr. and Mrs. Mulligan, but "took very little" himself. He sat down on a log near the fence, and thought, "This man passed me by as if he didn't know me when I was in the iron gang in Berrima. He never offered me a shilling though he has made pounds out of me, and I risked my life to obtain it. It would be a judgment on him to take all he's got for the way he's treated a poor prisoner. Oh, Almighty God, assist me and direct me what to do." After praying he felt strengthened and returned to the hut. Mrs. Mulligan told him that she had dreamed that she had a baby and that he had taken it away and killed it. "It was all covered with blood and looked horrible." Lynch joked with her about this dream; but, at the same time, he "felt very frightened." He believed that "she could foretell things," and he knew that "she could toss balls and turn cups." He went away again and prayed to God to enlighten him, and at last made up his mind to "kill the lot." He returned to the hut and "talked pleasantly." Then he asked young Mulligan, who was about sixteen years of age, to "come and cut some wood" for the fire. The boy went with him, and as they walked along Lynch spoke to the lad of the fine property he would have "when the old man died;" adding, "Ah, Johnny, you don't know what's in store for you." They chopped up several sticks and then, when the boy was stooping, Lynch swung the axe round and "hit him on the head." He threw a few branches over the body, and then, picking up an armful of the wood they had cut walked back to the house. Mrs. Mulligan asked him where her boy was, and Lynch replied that he'd "gone to the paddock with the horses." Mrs. Mulligan was very uneasy and asked Lynch to fire his gun off, as a signal to the boy to return. Lynch said this might bring the police round and he didn't want them "to see that dray." Mulligan also objected to the gun being fired. Both Mulligan and his wife were greatly excited. The old man paced up and down in front of the house, while the old woman, after asking Lynch several times what he had done with her boy, started up the path to look for him. Then said Lynch, "I knew it was time for something to be done." He got his tomahawk without being seen, walked up to the old man and cried "Look!" Mulligan turned round and looked up the road where Lynch pointed, Lynch struck him "one tap" and he "fell like a log." Lynch then followed Mrs. Mulligan, tripped her up and killed her. He walked back to the hut and saw the daughter, a girl of fourteen, standing behind the table with a large butcher's knife in her hand. She was trembling violently. He said to her "Put down that knife," She hesitated to obey him, and he cried louder, "Put down that knife." Then she put it down. He walked round the table and took her hand. He said he did not wish to hurt her, but if he let her live she would "only put him away." He told her to "pray for her soul," as she had "only ten minutes to live." She sobbed bitterly and he tried to comfort her, talking very seriously, and telling her that life was full of trouble, and that she would be better dead. Then he took her into the inner room, and after having violated her, brought her out again and killed her with the tomahawk. He dragged the four bodies together, heaped firewood over them and set fire to the heap. "I never seen nothing like it," he said. "They burned as if they was bags of fat." He threw the greater part of their clothing on to the fire and burned it. He stayed at the farm all next day, and then, when he had "made things right," he went to Sydney. Here he inserted an advertisement in the Sydney Gazette to the effect that Mrs. Mulligan having left her home without his consent he would not be responsible for any debts she might contract. This was signed "John Mulligan." He returned to the farm and wrote letters to those people to whom he knew Mulligan owed money, informing them that he had sold the farm to John Dunleavy, who would pay their accounts. These letters he also signed "John Mulligan." Lynch then engaged Terence Barnett and his wife to work on the farm, and stayed there quietly for six months. The stories he told in the neighbourhood induced the belief that Mulligan had taken him in with regard to the farm, and that he had paid more for it than it was worth. At the end of six months Lynch paid another visit to Sydney, and on his return journey met with Kearns Landregan, who said he was looking for work. Lynch engaged him to put up some fencing. Landregan agreed and got into the cart. Lynch drove on until they were passing Crisp's Inn. Here Landregan crouched down as if to hide himself. Lynch asked him what he did that for. Landregan replied that he had summoned Crisp for stealing a bundle of clothes from him and didn't want a row about it then. Lynch felt sorry that he had engaged Landregan and determined to get rid of him. He decided to camp at Ironstone Bridge and, when Landregan was sitting on a log near the camp fire, Lynch crept up behind him and struck him with the tomahawk. In his confession Lynch was very particular in pointing out that in all his previous murders he had not struck any one of his victims more than one blow with the tomahawk or axe. Landregan, however, was a big powerful man, who boasted that he had never met his match in wrestling, and Lynch felt afraid of him. He therefore departed from his rule and struck Landregan twice. He attributed his "ill-luck" in being caught and convicted to this breach of the rule he had laid down for himself. Lynch seems to have persuaded himself that he was acting under Divine inspiration in committing his murders. He was very emphatic in his assertions that he never committed a murder, without having first prayed to Almighty God to assist and direct him, until he felt sufficiently strengthened to carry out his intentions. He appeared to believe that he was justified in taking life. Whatever may be thought of his confessions, however, there can be no doubt that the main facts were correct. After his death a search was made at the places where he said he had hidden or buried his victims, and in all cases the remains were found as he had stated they would be. With regard to the Mulligans, a large heap of ashes was searched and found to contain human remains. The confession only included his more serious crimes. He said nothing about the numerous robberies he had committed at various times, nor of his relations with other bushrangers, with whom it was known he was on cordial terms during at least a portion of his career. Lynch was hanged at Berrima on April 22nd, 1842. At that time he was only twenty-nine years of age. He was about five feet three and a half inches in height, of fair complexion, with brown hair and hazel eyes. There was nothing ferocious in his appearance.

CHAPTER VI.

Jackey Jackey, the Gentleman Bushranger; His Dispute with Paddy Curran; Some Legends About Him; Jackey Jackey Always Well-dressed and Mounted; His Capture at Bungendore; His Escape at Bargo Brush; Jackey Jackey Visits Sydney; His Capture by Miss Gray; Paddy Curran's Fight with the Police; Recaptured and Hung; John Wright Threatens to Make a Clean Sweep.

William Westwood, better known as Jackey Jackey, was the darling of the old hands. He was only an errand boy in England, and was transported for some small peccadillo when he was sixteen years of age. He landed in Sydney in 1837, and was assigned to Mr. Phillip Gidley King, at Gidley, in the Goulburn district. He stayed at the station for nearly three years, and then, in company with a notorious scoundrel named Paddy Curran, stuck up and robbed his employer's house. The partnership between Jackey Jackey and Curran, however, did not last very long. Curran disgusted Jackey Jackey by his brutality to women. In one of their mutual enterprises Curran criminally assaulted a woman, the wife of the farmer whose place they had stuck up. Jackey Jackey was furious. He declared that even if a man was a bushranger he might be a gentleman, and added that he would never see a woman insulted. He threatened to shoot Curran unless he left at once, and stripped him of his horse, arms and ammunition. This story furnishes the key-note to Jackey Jackey's character. To the old hands he was always the gentleman bushranger. The stories told by them about the Jewboy and other bushrangers, and even about Mathew Brady, were generally coarse and sometimes brutal, but Jackey Jackey was always polite and well-behaved. More legends have collected round the name of Jackey Jackey than round that of any other of the bushrangers, and many of them are obviously variants of the stories told of the historical highwaymen of England. For instance, Jackey Jackey is said to have bailed up the carriage of the Commissary. When he discovered that the Commissary's wife was inside he dismounted, opened the door and, sweeping the ground with his cabbage tree hat, as he bowed low before her, he invited her to favour him with a step on the green. He rode incredible distances in incredibly short periods of time. He is represented as bailing up a man near Goulburn and telling him to note the time by his watch and then racing away and bailing up another man at Braidwood or some other place a hundred or a hundred and fifty miles away in a few hours and asking that person to note the time. Many of the popular stories told about him are so evidently apocryphal that little notice can be taken of them. But one thing is certain and that is that he was always well mounted. He scorned to steal an inferior horse and would travel miles to secure a racer. He stole racehorses from Mr. Murray, Mr. Julian, and many other gentlemen in the districts over which he ranged.

Although he appears to have been of humble origin he is credited with having been highly educated. This point was especially insisted upon by his eulogists among the old hands. By them he was always represented as being "able to hold his own," in conversation, with "the best of 'em." I remember one old fellow telling me that when Jackey Jackey met Governor Gipps (of which meeting, however, I can find no record) the governor and the bushranger had a long conversation and parted mutually pleased with each other. "You and me," said the old chap, "couldn't have understood what they said though it was all English; but, they talked grammar." What his precise meaning was I had no idea, but I have always thought that he intended to suggest that their conversation was all carried on in what he might have called "dictionary words;" that is, words not used by the uneducated. But everything said of Jackey Jackey redounds to his credit from the old hand point of view. He was emphatically "a good man." The meaning attached to words is purely conventional, and is therefore liable to vary with the conventionalities. The point of view of the convict being entirely different to that of the law-abiding citizen, the terms "good" and "bad" changed places in their vocabulary. Thus the clergy, the magistrates, the free men, were generally "bad men," while those who resisted authority, who fought against law and order, were "good men." Even the cannibal Pierce was a good man from their point of view, however strongly they might condemn his methods. But Jackey Jackey, although he continued the fight to the bitter end, and ended his life on the gallows when he was only twenty-six, never did anything mean or brutal or unworthy of a gentleman bushranger, until he was almost goaded to madness by the cruel discipline of Norfolk Island.

Paddy Curran was "out in the bush" several months before Jackey Jackey joined him, and he was not the only bushranger at work in the district. On December 31st, 1839, the station of the Rev. Mr. Cartwright was stuck up and robbed. On the same day a skirmish between the police and seven mounted bushrangers took place near Yass. One of the police horses was killed, and the police were compelled to retreat. On the same day, Mr. Heffernan's house, not far from Goulburn, was stuck up and robbed of £21 in money, a case of duelling pistols, a valuable mare, and other property. Mr. Israel Shepherd also lost a valuable horse, besides some money, and Mr. Charles Campbell was reported to have been shot dead. This is a heavy record for one day, and as the robberies took place so far distant from each other, there must have been at least three separate parties concerned in them. About the same time it was reported that Scotchy and Whitton were plundering the stations on the Lachlan River in all directions, and that Mr. Arthur Rankin had left his station and retired to Sydney in consequence of the insecurity in the country districts. The robberies continued all through the year 1840, and a great part of 1841.

On January 13th of the last-mentioned year a man ran into the township of Bungendore, and said that Jackey Jackey had followed and fired at him. A few minutes' later Jackey Jackey himself, mounted on a splendid mare, which he had stolen from the Messrs. Macarthur, hove in sight on the plains. He was dressed in a fine suit of clothes which he had obtained when he stuck up and robbed the store at Boro a few days before. He stopped to speak to a man near Eccleton's. In the meantime Mr. Powell, the resident magistrate, and his brother, Mr. Frank Powell, promptly mounted and went towards the bushranger, and were joined by Richard Rutledge, who, however, had no arms. As they approached Jackey Jackey wheeled round and fired at them, but failed to hit any one. Mr. Balcombe and the Rev. Mr. McGrath drove up in a gig, and Mr. McGrath jumped down and presented his gun. Jackey Jackey seeing himself surrounded, surrendered. He explained that his mare had come a long journey and was unfit to travel, and that his musket was out of order and would not go off. He was conducted to the inn and placed in a room, two ticket-of-leave men being placed there to guard him. Jackey Jackey sat very quiet for some time. Then he jumped up suddenly, knocked down one of his guards, snatched his musket, jumped through the window, and ran across the plain. Frank Powell, who was close at hand, followed him, and with the assistance of Dr. Wilson's postman, recaptured him. Among other exploits previous to this capture Jackey Jackey had robbed the Queanbeyan, Tarago, and other mails, stuck up Mr. Julian, Mr. Edinburgh, and a number of other people on the roads at various times and places, stolen horses from all the principal owners and breeders in the district, fired at the driver of the Bungendore mail, who escaped, and had robbed the Boro Creek store of clothing, money, provisions, and other articles, on the Tuesday before his capture. For several months Lieutenant Christie and the whole of the mounted police of the district had been trying to capture him, and he had more than once escaped only by the superior fleetness of his horses. As soon as possible after his capture he was handed over to Lieutenant Christie, who conducted him to Goulburn, where he was lodged in the lock-up. The following day he was being taken to Bargo Brush, on the road to Sydney, when he made a desperate attempt to escape on foot, running for a mile before he was recaptured. He was then tied on the horse and the journey was resumed, but at night he broke out of the Bargo lock-up, taking with him the watch-house keeper's arms and ammunition. He soon procured a horse, and on the following day stuck up Mr. Francis Macarthur on the Goulburn Plains. He robbed Mr. Macarthur of his watch, money, and other valuables, and took one of his carriage horses because it was better than the animal he was riding.

In the meantime the other bushrangers in the district had not been idle. In September, 1840, a fight took place between the police and the bushrangers near Wellington. One of the bushrangers was shot dead, and a mounted trooper was wounded in the shoulder. A few days later another encounter occurred, when a constable was shot dead within two miles of the township.

On October 3rd, Mr. Robert Smith's station, Newria, was attacked by four armed bushrangers and plundered of everything worth carrying away. Mr. Aarons had recently arrived from Sydney, with the intention of opening a store in Wellington. The bushrangers threatened to throw him into the fire unless he handed over his money. They got upwards of £400 from him. Mr. McPhillamy rode up at the time, and was invited by one of the bushrangers to dismount and come in. He dismounted, and then, discovering the class of men he had to deal with, quickly jumped on his horse again and started. The bushrangers fired at him, and one of the bullets so severely injured his hand that it had to be amputated. A reward of £200 was offered for the capture of these men.

On Tuesday, May 18th, 1841, a gentleman, mounted on a spirited horse, pulled up at the tollbar on the Parramatta Road, Sydney, and asked the toll-keeper if he could oblige him with a pipe of tobacco. The toll-keeper gave him a piece, and the gentleman dismounted and filled his pipe. As he stood at the door of the toll-house he remarked a firelock hanging over the mantelpiece, and asked what it was for. "For bushrangers," replied the toll man. "But there are none now. I've never seen it taken down since I've been here." "Did you ever hear of Jackey Jackey?" enquired the gentleman. "Oh, yes," replied the toll man, "but he's a long way away. He never comes to Sydney. If he did he'd soon be caught." "Not at all," replied the gentleman laughing. "They don't know how to catch him, nor to keep him when they do catch him. I'm Jackey Jackey." He raised the lappels of his coat as he spoke and showed a brace of pistols stuck in his belt on each side. The tollman looked very much alarmed, but the bushranger said to him, "Don't be frightened, I am not going to hurt you. I've been in Sydney for three days and I'm going back to Manaro." He informed the tollman that he had taken a horse in Sydney, but that he was too old and stiff, so he had taken the liberty of exchanging him for the one he had with him at Grose's Farm. "Ain't you afraid of being took?" asked the tollman. Jackey laughed. "I'd like to see who'll stop me while I've these little bull-dogs about me," he said, tapping his pistols. He stood chatting while he smoked regardless of the fact that Grose's Farm, now the grounds of the Sydney University, was within a stone's-throw of the tollbar. He offered the tollman some money and asked him to go to the public-house for some rum. The tollman replied, "I can't leave the bar." "All right," returned Jackey, "then I'll get it myself." He went away to Toogood's Inn and returned in a few minutes with half-a-pint of rum. He gave some to the toll-keeper and took a stiff glass himself. Then he shook hands with the tollman, mounted his horse, and rode on towards Parramatta.

On the 8th of July a great commotion was caused in George Street, Sydney, by a soldier arresting a well-dressed man and asserting that he recognised him as Jackey Jackey. A large number of people assembled and there were plenty of them quite ready to assist in the capture of the noted bushranger. On the prisoner being taken to the police court proof was soon forthcoming to show that he was a free man. He was discharged and the soldier was censured for being too officious. Since the visit of the bushranger in May had become known a constant look-out had been kept in case he should repeat his visit.

Jackey Jackey did not long maintain his freedom, however. He one day went into Gray's Black Horse Inn on the Berrima road, called for some refreshments, went into a sitting room, and threw himself on the sofa. He was served by Miss Gray, and while he was drinking she pounced on him and screamed. Her father and mother came to her assistance, but Jackey Jackey fought with so much determination that he would no doubt have got away. A carpenter named Waters was working near, however, and hearing the noise he rushed in and struck Jackey Jackey on the head with his shingling hammer. Knocked senseless, the noted bushranger was easily secured. It will be remembered that Gray's Black Horse Inn was about three miles from Mulligan's farm, and was the place where Lynch had bought the rum to treat Mr. and Mrs. Mulligan just before he murdered them. The capture of Jackey Jackey was effected for the purpose of securing the reward of offered for him dead or alive. He was tried for the robbery of the Boro store, and was sentenced to penal servitude for life. He was first confined in Darlinghurst Gaol, Sydney, but being detected in an attempt to escape, he was transferred to Cockatoo Island at the mouth of the Parramatta River. While here he organised a band of twenty-five prisoners, and made a desperate attempt to escape. The gang overcame and tied a warder, and then jumped into the harbour with the intention of swimming to Balmain. The water police, however, were apprised of the mutiny and captured the whole gang. It has been asserted that no prisoner has escaped from Cockatoo Island. The distance from the island to the shore is not very great, certainly less than half-a-mile to the nearest point, but all who have tried to swim it have either been retaken by the police or eaten by sharks.

The gang was tried for this attempt at escape and were sentenced to be sent to Port Arthur, Van Diemen's Land. Being such a desperate lot of scoundrels they were chained down in the hold of the brig, in which they were forwarded, for safety; but, in spite of this precaution, they contrived to get loose and were only prevented from capturing the brig by the hatches being put on and battened down. They reached Port Arthur in an almost suffocated condition, and were nearly starved, as they had had no food for several days; the captain of the brig not daring to remove the hatches, either to let in air, or to pass food to the prisoners.

Jackey Jackey succeeded in escaping from Port Arthur and immediately resumed his bushranging career. He was captured, however, after a very short run and was sent to Glenorchy Probation Station for milder treatment. Probably this attempt at reformation came too late, but however this may have been, it had little beneficial effect. Jackey Jackey made his escape and again began bushranging. He was captured in a house in Hobart Town and was sentenced to death. The sentence, however, was commuted to penal servitude for life and he was sent to Norfolk Island, where we shall hear of him again later on.

In the meantime, Jackey Jackey's old mate, Paddy Curran, continued to rob as before. He went to Major Lockyer's station and entered the men's hut while they were having their Christmas dinner, in 1840. He had a pair of handcuffs hanging at his belt, and was therefore thought to be a constable out on the spree. He helped himself freely to the good things on the table, and behaved generally so as to induce the idea that he had been drinking. One of the men, however, said he did not believe that the visitor was "a drunken trap," and Curran immediately knocked him down with the butt of his gun. The man jumped up at once and rushed at Curran. There was a struggle for a time, and the man got Curran down. He was, however, too much exhausted to hold him, and Curran got up. The other men, who were all assigned servants on the estate, looked on and applauded the wrestlers, but not one of them made any motion to assist his mate, otherwise Curran might easily have been captured. After his wrestling match Curran walked out of the hut, mounted his horse, and rode away. On the following day Curran again went to the station, and found Mr. North, son-in-law to Major Lockyer, and another man in the store. He called on them to bail up, and both men held their hands up. Curran was about to enter the store-door when he was pinioned from behind. Mr. North and his store-keeper rushed forward, and after a severe struggle, during which the bushranger tried hard to get his gun free, he was captured and tied. The man who had pinioned him was the man with whom he had had the wrestling match the day before. Curran was taken to Goulburn for examination, and was remanded to Berrima to take his trial, "where," said the Port Phillip Herald, "it is to be hoped he will be more securely confined, and not allowed to escape, as he did before."

Paddy Curran and James Berry, another bushranger, were sent to Berrima for trial in charge of Constables McGuire and Wilsmore. They stopped at a hut on the road for a rest and food. After they had finished their meal Constable Wilsmore left the hut, and stayed away for some time. At length Constable McGuire went to the door of the hut to call him, and Berry and Curran, taking advantage of his action, immediately rushed upon him. They were handcuffed together, and this no doubt hampered their movements. McGuire fought hard. The bushrangers had seized the guns, and each held one. McGuire endeavoured to wrest the gun from Curran with one hand, while he held Berry's gun off with the other hand. He yelled for Wilsmore, but Wilsmore did not come. At length Berry got his gun loose and shot McGuire in the back of the head and in the shoulder. At this moment Constable Wilsmore returned, and seeing his mate dead and the prisoners in possession of the guns, ran away again. Curran and Berry beat McGuire about the head until he was dead, and a "fearful spectacle to look upon." Then they searched his body, and finding the key of the handcuffs, released themselves and made off. The two bushrangers continued their depredations for only a few months, however, as they were tracked down by the police and captured. Curran was tried on September 15th, 1841, for the murder of Mr. Fuller. He afterwards confessed to this murder. He said he was in company with two other bushrangers on the road near Bungendore when he heard two men quarrelling. Curran and his mates went towards the road and hid behind trees. Presently two men, riding on one horse, came in sight and appeared to be having a dispute about something. They were talking loud and swearing at each other. Curran stepped out from behind the tree and called on them to stop. Instead of doing so they wheeled the horse and began to gallop away. Curran fired and both men fell, while the horse bolted along the road and soon got out of sight. One of the men jumped up as soon as he fell and ran into the bush and they did not see him again. The other man was Mr. Fuller, and he was either dead or at point of death. "I turned him over and took about £11 in money and a pocket knife out of his pockets," said the bushranger.

Curran was also tried for having committed a rape on Mary Wilsmore. He went to the hut occupied by Wilsmore on the 8th of February. It was near Bungendore. He ordered Mrs. Wilsmore to get him some tea. A bushranger, named White, was with him. Mrs. Wilsmore went outside to get some wood to make up the fire and Curran followed her, knocked her down, and dragged her away to some scrub where he committed the offence. He was found guilty of both crimes and was sentenced to be hung. There were another case of rape, several cases of murder, and numbers of robberies and burglaries charged against him, but none of these were heard.

James Berry was tried for the murder of Constable McGuire, and was sentenced to death.

At the same sessions John Wright, another bushranger, was also sentenced to death. The case against him was as follows;—On May 17th, 1840, Mrs. Margaret Foley, living at Long Swamp, about thirty miles from Bathurst, was going from her house into the detached kitchen at the rear, when three armed men appeared. She shouted "Here's the bushrangers" and ran into the kitchen. Mr. Cunningham, Mr. Foley's partner in the farm, came out of the house and fired both barrels of his gun at the intruders, but failed to hit any of them. The leader of the gang followed Mr. Cunningham, who went back into the house; and saying, "It'll be a long time before you and Steel (son of Captain Steel) hunt us again," shot him dead. Wright then went to the kitchen, pushed the door open, and asked where Foley was? On being informed that he had gone to Bathurst, he replied "I'm sorry for it. I'd 'a served him the same as Cunningham if I'd 'a caught him." He swung his gun about in such a reckless manner that one of the assigned servants in the kitchen requested him to be careful, adding "Recollect that there are women and children here." Wright told him to mind his "own—— business and be——" to him. He continued to swear about Foley's absence and declared that he'd a "good mind to make a clean sweep." He became cooler afterwards, and having collected all the jewellery and other valuables, went away. In passing sentence the Chief Justice commented on the great number of robberies which had been committed by Wright and his gang and said there was no hope of mercy. Wright thanked his Honour and then coolly asked whether he might have a candle in his cell, as it was very dark.

CHAPTER VII.

The Jewboy Gang; "Come and Shoot the Bushrangers;" Constable Refuses to Leave His Work to Hunt Bushrangers; Saved by his Wife; Robberies in Maitland; Bushrangers in High Hats; The Bullock-driver Captures the Bushrangers; An Attempt to Reach the Dutch Settlements; Mr. E.D. Day Captures the Gang; Assigned Servants' Attempt at Bushranging; Some other Gangs.

One of the most notorious of the early bushrangers of Australia was Edward Davis, commonly known as The Jewboy. Next to Jackey Jackey and, perhaps, Mathew Brady, more yarns have been told about this hero of the roads than of any other bushranger in the pre-gold digging era. The Jewboy gang varied in numbers from time to time, no doubt from the cause already noted in the cases of Mike Howe and Mathew Brady. Numbers of runaways joined the gang for a time and then returned to what was called civilisation, gave themselves up as ordinary runaways, and "took their fifties like men." Others were shot or captured, and either hung or sent to a penal settlement to continue their careers there. The Jewboy appears to have commenced his depredations in 1839 in what were then the northern districts of the colony of New South Wales. His range extended from about Maitland to the New England ranges, he having taken possession of the Great Northern Road, but he was not particular and, therefore, either he or other members of his gang, or, perhaps, independent bushrangers who were only supposed to belong to the Jewboy gang, travelled considerable distances from the road. On January 12th, 1839, Mr. Biddington's servant was stuck up and robbed near Mr. Wightman's station on the Namoi River, some distance lower down than Tamworth. The servant sent an invitation to Mr. Wightman to "come and have a shot at the bushrangers." The Sydney Gazette, of April 3rd, said: "The country between Patrick's Plains and Maitland has lately been the scene of numerous outrages by bushrangers. A party of runaway convicts, armed and mounted, have been scouring the roads in all directions. In one week they robbed no less than seven teams on the Wollombi Road, taking away everything portable. They also went to Mr. Nicholas's house, and carried away a great quantity of property after destroying a great many articles which they did not want. Mr. Macdougall, late Chief Constable of Maitland, and a party of volunteers set out in pursuit. The Wollombi district constable is a tailor by trade, and he refused to leave his work to accompany the party on the plea that it would not pay him." This reminds us that the ordinary police force of the present day did not exist in Australia at that time. In the larger towns there were paid constables and watchmen who devoted their whole time to guarding the citizens and their property; but, in country districts, a tradesman was paid a small sum per annum for acting as constable. There was, however, a mounted patrol force which is frequently spoken of as a police force. The police duties in Sydney, Parramatta, and other large towns were discharged by soldiers.