Gold-Escort -

THE LAST OF THE BUSHRANGERS. Gold-Escort

BY
FRANCIS AUGUSTUS HARE, P.M.
LATE SUPERINTENDENT OF VICTORIAN POLICE

I JOINED the police force on the 1st January, 1854,
as a lieutenant. I was sent off at once to the Ovens
district, and my first duty was to take charge of
the gold escort from Beechworth to the Buckland.
In those days there were few roads and no bridges,
and the creeks had to be crossed the best way we
could manage. The gold was carried down on packhorses
and mules, each horse carrying from 1500 to
2000 ounces in saddle-bags. Frequently we had to
swim the rivers. Some of the streams were very
rapid, and when flooded were most dangerous to
cross. On one occasion I lost two pack-horses;
they were washed over a log below the crossing
place of the Buckland River, and we never saw
them again, although we searched for them for
some days. Fortunately there was no gold on their
backs. The gold used to be placed in saddle-bags,
and sealed up, and we generally had four pack-horses
or mules to carry it.
On one occasion, on our return journey, we found
one of the creeks so flooded that it was quite impossible
to cross without the danger of losing some
of the men and gold. I took the men half a mile
higher up the creek than the usual crossing place,
and opening the saddle-bags containing the gold (the
gold was always put in small chamois leather bags
inside the saddle-bags), gave a few bags to each of
the men to put inside their valises, telling them I
expected each man to do his best to cross the stream,
which was about fifty or eighty yards wide. I gave
instructions that they should unbuckle their swords,
and carry them under their arms, so that, in case they
were washed down the stream, they could get rid of
them. I had with me a Mr. Murphy, one of the
Wardens of the gold-fields, whom I had picked up
on the road, between two rivers. He put himself
under my charge. I told him to follow me, but
to keep at a respectable distance, so that if my
horse came to grief he might avoid the difficulty.
Neither of us could swim, so we were a pretty pair to
cross a river fifty yards wide. I started into the
water first, telling my sergeant to remain where he
was till all the men had got safely over. I had not
gone ten yards when my horse, which was a very
small one, got his fore legs across a log, and was
unable to get his hind ones over. It was no enviable
position for me, on a horse playing a kind of see-saw
in a roaring torrent.
Murphy followed close on my heels, and his horse
whilst swimming put his fore leg on my shoulder,
as nearly as possible pulling me into the water. I
leant forward, and in getting clear of me, the horse's
foot caught the hilt of my sword, which tipped up
the scabbard. It fell into the river, and there lay
for more than a month before I recovered it. The
men got across safely. One of them struck a log in
the same way I did, and, the horse falling over, he
swam ashore. The pack-horses, having no weight on
their backs, were washed down a considerable
distance, but all landed safely on the other side. The
gold being replaced in the saddle-bags, we started off
for Beechworth.
Later on, one of the pack mules got away from the
man who was leading him, and bolted off with 2000
oz. of gold on his back ! We halted, and I sent two
men off in pursuit, but after half an hour's chase, one
of the men returned, and said it was impossible to
follow the mule, which had got into an impassable
place in the mountains. He wanted to know what
he was to do. I told him if he could not catch the
mule he must shoot it, and secure the gold. The
trooper galloped back to the place he had left, the
other man watching the mule, and in less than
twenty minutes I heard a shot in the mountains,
and shortly afterwards the two men returned with
the pack-saddle and gold on one of their horses,
they having shot the mule, and I was obliged again
to divide the gold amongst the men. About four
hours after the usual time of arriving we reached
our destination, Beechworth, and I never was more
glad to get rid of the responsibility of anything
placed under my charge than I was of that gold !
In 1855 I was staying for the night at a station
owned by Dr. Mackay, on the Ovens River. Mrs.
Mackay was very ill, and the doctor, who was a tall,
slight man, was by no means strong.
The doctor had sold a number of horses, and had
received cash for them. He had this money, some
700, in his house, and in some way this fact had
become known to, amongst others, a most notorious
burglar named Meakin. There were other visitors
staying in the house OD this night, a Mrs. H. and a
Miss D., the latter a niece of Dr. Mackay. I had a
bed made up on the sofa in the dining-room. The
front rooms opened with French windows on to the
veranda. My room was between Dr. Mackay's
and that occupied by the two ladies before
mentioned. The house was away from the road,
and no other building within miles of it. At about
two o'clock in the morning the two ladies came
to the door of my room and awoke me, calling out
there was a man outside in the veranda examining
his revolver. They said they saw him put a large
knife belonging to the doctor, which was lying in
the veranda, into his pocket. At first I thought
the ladies had been dreaming, and I told them
to return to their rooms, and I would go outside
and see who was there. I hastily put on some clothes,
and opening the French windows went outside on
to the veranda, but could not see or hear any one.
I went back to my room, telling the ladies I could
see no one, and I thought they must be dreaming,
and I begged them to return to their room, promising
to keep watch, and listen if I could hear any footsteps.
The ladies impressed me with the fact that on no
account was Dr. Mackay to be disturbed, because Mrs.
Mackay was so ill that any fright might cause her
death.
The ladies retired, and I lay down attired as I was.
Five minutes afterwards I heard the dogs bark. I
began to think that some one must be about. Then
I heard one of the ladies calling out,
" Who is that at
the window ? "
I sprang out of bed, opened the
window leading on to the veranda, and saw the
figure of a man running across the garden. I called
on him to stop, at the same time following him
through the garden. He fell; I did so also. In
another moment we were up again ; he ran through
some vines, the branches entangling him. I pursued
him, and again fell. At last he made for a gap in
the garden fence. Taking a short cut I overtook
him and laid hold of him, and down we both fell on
the top of a heap of rose cuttings and other rubbish,
I coming on top of him. He had his revolver in his
hand. I had no weapon of any sort. My first
thought was to secure his revolver. I laid hold of
the barrel, whilst he held the stock, trying to cock
the pistol. It was a Colt's revolver, and I knew my
only chance was to keep the barrels away from my
body. I struck him with my fist; with all my might
I hit him with my left hand, blow after blow, between
the eyes. The struggle was for life, and notwithstanding
it was on the top of a heap of rubbish,
principally rose cuttings, men never fought harder.
Once I rolled over, and the ruffian was on top of me,
but with almost superhuman exertion I got on top
once more. He endeavoured to throttle me by putting
his hand in the collar of my shirt. Fortunately,
it gave way. In many other ways he tried to disable
me, but always failed. The struggle appeared to me
to last for half an hour, but, I suppose, could not
have been more than six or eight minutes. I did
not call out for help, thinking the burglar would
have associates, and that they would come to his
assistance. Mackay, having been told by the ladies
that I had the burglar, called out to me. I answered.
The man, hearing this, immediately gave up the
struggle, and I took his revolver from him. Whilst
he was on the ground I several times felt him trying
to get something out of his coat pocket, but prevented
his doing so. When Dr. Mackay arrived I put my
hand in and found a long dissecting knife which he
had taken from the veranda, also a couple of straps.
We took him to the house. I was completely exhausted,
and left the ruffian sitting in the kitchen,
and asked Dr. Mackay to look after him while I got
my coat, as I had nothing on but my pants. Hardly
had I got outside the door when the prisoner made a
bolt. Dr. Mackay called out to me, and I caught
him getting over the paling fence which ran between
the kitchen and the house. I pulled him down and
dashed him to the ground, and seizing a huge stone
the only weapon I could find threatened to
smash his brains out if he moved. Dr. Mackay then
got some saddle-straps. We fastened his legs and
arms, and sent to Beech worth for a constable. On
being informed of this, the man, who proved to be
Meakin, a notorious criminal, remained quite still
until morning, when he was sent to Beechworth.
Meakin told me he had heard that Dr. Mackay had
sold a number of horses a few days before, having
been paid 600 in cash for them, and it was his
intention to have robbed him and tied his feet and
hands so that he could not move till the morning,
nor give information to the police by that time he
would have retired to the mountains. He said :
" I brought these straps you have bound me up with to
tie Dr. Mackay's legs." We found his boots in the
garden, with a large stock of provisions to which he
had helped himself out of the store. He told me
his intention was to have robbed Dr. Mackay, and if
he had resisted he would have shot him; and he
might, with the provisions he had secured, have
remained in the mountains for weeks before he need
have appeared again.
The prisoner was taken to Beechworth, and committed
for trial on a charge of burglary ; there being
many other charges of a similar nature against him,
he was remanded to Kilmore. On his way there he
made several determined efforts to escape. I was at
this time stationed at Wangaratta, the first stage
from Beechworth to Kilmore, and he stayed the
night there. In those days the watch-houses were of
a very primitive character a slab hut with earthen
floor. Meakin had leg-irons riveted on his ankles,
and it was only natural to suppose no man could
escape with these on, but he was not to be daunted.
He was locked up in a building like the one I have
described, and a sentry placed at the door, with
orders to watch the prisoner during the night.
There was a lamp inside the cell, and several times
during the night I visited the place, found the
sentry vigilant, and observed the prisoner rolled up
in his blanket against the wall. Next morning we
discovered that all through the night he had been
working trying to effect his escape. Underneath
where he was lying there was a large hole in the
ground. He put all the earth into his blankets, and
as his body was proceeding through the hole this
filled up the space in the blankets. Unfortunately
for him, the night was not long enough, or else he
would have escaped. I was glad to get rid of him,
and sent him on next day to Benalla.
In those days there was no train, and the
journey, which now takes four hours, then took six or
seven days. It took five or six days to get him to Kilmore,
and each night he made some effort to escape.
At Kilmore the lock-up was considered especially
safe, and it was thought quite impossible for him to
make his escape. By night a sentry was placed over
him, but not in the day-time. One fine afternoon
the watchman went to the cell to give the prisoner
some food, when, to his horror and surprise, he found
the cell empty, the man having escaped through the
roof, leg-irons and all, and to this day he has never
been traced or heard of. He must have got some
friendly blacksmith to knock off the irons, and got
clear into another colony. After the capture of
Meakin, Dr. Mackay presented me with a handsome
gold watch, which I have worn to this day, with
the following inscription upon it :
Presented to Lieutenant Francis Hare for his gallant
capture of an armed bushranger at Tarrawingee, the 23rd of
June, 1855.
About the year 1857 a store was burnt to the
ground not three miles from Dunolly. Some of the
property had been dragged out and was in possession
of the police, and the outhouses connected with the
store had also been saved. The owner of the store
was addicted to drink, and as he was missing it was
generally believed that he had been burnt, as his
body was nowhere to be found. The coroner of the
district was communicated with ; he came to the spot,
and pointed out to the police some calcined bones
amongst the debris. He ordered a box to be brought,
and he and the constable set to work to collect the
bones, and taking them to the nearest hotel, called a
jury, and held an inquest. The coroner declared
them to be the bones of a human being, and the
inference was drawn that they were all that
remained of the missing owner of the store. A
verdict of accidental death was recorded, the friends
of the deceased procured a coffin, and Jemmy being a
favourite in the district, a great number of sorrowing
and sympathetic persons followed the remains to the
grave. A few days afterwards the police were ordered
to sell all the effects of the deceased. A public auction
was held, and the rescued property was disposed of.
At the auction it was rumoured that the deceased
was known to have some underground place where
he kept his money, and on the strength of this
report a large sum was given for the ruins. A day
or two after the sale the purchaser made the discovery
of an underground passage beneath the store, and
found the body of the deceased lying there ! He
had evidently, on perceiving the fire, gone down to
secure his money hidden there, and got suffocated
by the smoke, the whole burning mass having fallen
in and prevented his escape. It was then found out
that, in the store that was burnt, a number of hams
had hung from a beam, and it was from underneath
this beam the bones had been collected, upon which
the coroner and jury had held the inquest, and which
the sorrowing friends had followed to the grave.
The purchasers of the ruins found a considerable
sum of money in the underground passage. A
second inquest was held on the real body, and the
mourners again dropped the sympathetic tear.
The coroner was at once called upon to resign,
which he did !
About the year 1858 I was stationed at Maryborough.
I had under my charge a large district,
comprising a place called the " White Hills," which
was about five miles distant from Maryborough. It
was famous for the number of murders committed
there. Hardly a week passed but two or three
men were killed in the most cold-blooded manner.
I recollect, one morning about four o'clock, being
called up, and informed that a store-keeper named
Lopez and my sergeant, named Barnett, had been
shot during the night at White Hills. I immediately
got up, and off I started to the spot. It did
not take me long to ride the five miles.
The police station consisted of a portable building of
one room fourteen feet square, a door in front, and two
windows at the back. I found, lying on the floor in
this building, the dead sergeant and store-keeper,
and a wounded man named Brooks, suffering the
most excruciating agony from a stab in the chest,
about two inches in width. From a constable named
M'Cormack, who was also stationed there, I got an
account of the affair in the presence of Brooks. He
said Lopez, the dead man, kept a store 100 yards
from the camp. About one o'clock Brooks attempted
to break into the store. He managed to get in, but
was confronted by Lopez, who demanded who he
was. Without replying, Brooks presented his pistol,
and shot him through the heart. Lopez, after he
was shot, sprang forward and thrust a large dagger,
about two inches in width and twelve inches in
length, into the man's body and left it there.
Brooks ran away, and immediately a cry was raised,
Brooks running across the diggings and passing
within a few yards of the police station. Barnett,
on hearing the cry, jumped up, and on seeing a man
running away, he pursued and overtook him, when
Brooks turned round, levelled his revolver at him, and
shot him dead on the spot. A second constable
(M'Cormack) followed Brooks, who again turned
round and snapped his pistol in his face ; fortunately
it did not go off, and Constable M'Cormack knocked
him down, took the pistol from him, and brought
him to the police station, when he found he was
mortally wounded. After M'Cormack had made this
statement, I asked Brooks if it was true. He said,
"Quite true." I asked him what had become of
the dagger which Lopez had plunged into him. He
said,
" As I was crossing the diggings I drew it out
and threw it away." I sent a man to the spot
indicated by Brooks, and he brought back the
dagger covered with blood. It had no bone or
wooden handle to it. I asked Brooks whether it
was in that state when he pulled it out of the wound.
He said " Yes ! "
I made a search for the handle, but without success.
About day-break a great crowd of diggers came
round the police station, and begged me to allow
them to lynch Brooks before he died. I told them
I could not possibly allow such a thing. They
became most excited, and demanded that I should
hand over the wounded man to them. I saw a long
rope in the hand of a man, so I closed up the door
of the building, with myself and the constable inside.
The diggers then threatened to break in the door
and windows, but I remained firm, telling them the
unfortunate man could only live a few hours. The
diggers then had a meeting, and decided to burn
down and destroy all the tents where the thieves
and murderers resorted on the diggings. During
the time the diggers were trying to get hold of
Brooks, he was calling out from the agony he was
suffering, and they kept mocking him. His thirst
was most intense, and he implored us to keep giving
him water, which, of course, we did, and did everything
we could to relieve his sufferings. About ten
o'clock I was told that several tents and grog
shanties had been set on fire. I looked out and
saw men tearing up mattresses, and feathers being
thrown into the fire, and all the furniture being
broken up and burnt. About this time a large force
of police had been sent to my assistance, and I was
in some measure able to restore order. Brooks
lingered on till about three o'clock in the afternoon,
when he died in the most terrible agony. Lopez was
an Italian, and lived in his store by himself, and was
known to be a most determined man. The doctors
held the post mortem, and said death must have been
almost instantaneous, as the bullet had gone through
his heart. The missing handle of the dagger was
found by the medical man in Lopez' clenched hand.
A tragic occurrence took place at the inquest. It
was held by the coroner in a place used as a theatre,
the jury sitting below the foot- lights. Three inquests
had to be held, one on Lopez, the second on Barnett,
and the third on Brooks. The inquest on the latter
was not closed until nine o'clock at night, but while
the coroner was taking the depositions the head of
Brooks, which had been removed from the body,
and put on the back of the stage, came rolling down,
and fell on the ground among the jury. The
coroner was anxious to keep the murderer's head, and
the doctor, who held the post mortem, had placed the
head at the back of the stage, forgetting that all
stages slope towards the front. This skull was kept
as a memento by the coroner until his death,
when his widow sent it to me ; and I now have it
in my den.
I was sent in charge to the Buckland River
station, about April, 1854, shortly after the new
diggings were discovered there, and one of my first
duties was to see that the diggers were all provided
with licences. Having been a digger myself, I
thought I would be able to circumvent the men
who had no licences. The commissioner (as these
officers were called in those days), named Mr. Hood,
told me a few days after I arrived that he had been
informed a number of men were working at the head
of the river, and he proposed that we should take a
party of police and explore the river some distance
from the camp at this time very little was known
about the head of the river so we arranged to take
four mounted police, and go in search of diggers who
were mining without licences. We followed them
up to the junction of the two arms of the river. I
took one side and the commissioner the other, each
of us having two mounted constables with us. I was
on the left side, and the commissioner with two men
on the right. After going half a mile beyond the
junction, I got on to a narrow track, the two men
following close behind me. Suddenly I found the
track getting more narrow and steep ; my horse went
faster and faster, until he could scarcely find ground
to stand on, when away went his hind legs. I felt
he was going over, and slipped my feet out of the
stirrups, and as he reared or fell over, I saw a clump
of grass on the edge of the precipice, and laid hold
of and hung on to it. The horse rolled over and
over a distance of 100 yards, until he fell into the
river. He was terribly cut about, but with much
difficulty we got him out, and led him home ; the
saddle was smashed to pieces. The commissioner on
the other side of the river was amazed to see me
walking down the hill. After hearing the clatter of
horse, stirrup-irons, and stones, the two men, who >
were behind me, seeing the position I was getting
into, pulled up their horses, and so avoided my
misfortune. The commissioner suggested that we
had better return to the camp, as we saw no diggers
working on the river, so we went back, considering
we had run a great risk to no purpose.
Another story occurs to my mind, whilst I was
stationed at the Buckland. We had a most highly
esteemed and worthy police magistrate, whose name
I will not mention. His tent was fixed alongside of
mine. It was the habit in those days for the police
to be always on the alert for persons bringing liquor
to the diggings, as no public-houses were then allowed
except in townships. My men had made a large
seizure, and the persons driving the drays were
brought before the P. M., charged with carrying
liquor for illegal sale. The whole seizure was confiscated,
and in those days, instead of selling it, the
magistrate directed that the liquor was to be destroyed.
This order was made with regard to this
seizure. On the following day I was about to carry
out the order of the court, when the official came to
me, and said,
" Kaffir "
(he used to call me " Kaffir"
because I came from the Cape),
" don't you think it
would be advisable to keep the cask of port-wine
that has been confiscated, for the poor frozen women
about the diggings ?
" The place at that time was
snowed up half the winter. I replied,
" I have no
objection, but where shall we keep it ?" He replied,
" Between our tents." I agreed to his proposal, and
we fixed up the quarter-cask accordingly, and put a
tap in it. From time to time the old women, and
sometimes the young ones, came for a jug of port-wine,
but one night I heard a trickle as if some one was
drawing off a jug from the cask, and thinking that
the sentry was having a pull at it (there was always
a sentry over the gold- office, which was within a
short distance of our tents), I got up as quietly as I
could, opened the tent, and saw our worthy official
drawing off a jug of port. I called out to him,
" Are
you drawing off a jug for some old woman at this
hour of the night ?
" He looked up surprised, and it
was a sore subject for a long-time. Some years afterwards
I met him, and related to some friends
in his presence the story of the port-wine, and,
strange to say, he had quite forgotten all about it,
and tried to make me believe he could not have been the
official that I referred to.
The cold at the Buckland was intense on those
days. The men were occupied half a dozen times
during the night scraping the snow off the tents and
off the police stables, which had merely a covering of
calico, and there was great danger of the snow carrying
away both tents and stables.
I was stationed at Wangaratta in the year 1855,
before the bridge over the Ovens had been built.
The only way of crossing the river then was by a
punt, which was worked by a man named Billy. He
used to be called " Billy the Puntman." This man
was well known to be a confederate of the horse and
cattle stealers in the district, but he always escaped
detection. A bridge having been erected over the
river, Billy's occupation was gone ; and whilst I was
travelling by coach to Melbourne in the latter part
of the year, the mail-man, riding one horse and leading
another with the mails, passed the coach some
short distance from Greta, formerly called
" Fifteen Mile Creek." The driver of the coach had hardly
gone a quarter of a mile, when we found the mailman
standing on the side of the road without his
horses. He told us that he had been suddenly
stopped on the road by " Billy the Puntman," who
presented a double-barrelled gun at him, and he had
ridden off as hard as he could go when he heard the
coach approaching. In those days I never went anywhere
without a revolver. I asked the driver of the
coach if any of his horses were broken to saddle. He
replied, " Yes, the near-side leader is a saddle-horse."
I told him to take the horse out of harness at once,
leaving the bridle on him. I made a pair of reins of
a piece of rope, jumped on him barebacked, and rode
in pursuit, as fast as I could go, in the direction
Billy had gone. For some distance I easily followed
the tracks of the two horses, but they led into stony
ground, and not having much time to spare I lost the
track altogether, and as I had to overtake the coach,
being summoned to attend the Supreme Court, Melbourne,
I galloped round the locality for some time,
and then made my way into Benalla without seeing
anything of Billy. I gave information to the police
there, and got a fresh horse and saddle, and overtook
the coach during the night near Euroa, reaching
Melbourne in time for the Court. Billy was subsequently
arrested at Albury, and a quantity of the
stolen property, the proceeds of the robbery, was
found on him. He was tried at Beechworth before
Judge Forbes, and sentenced to ten years' imprisonment.
He gave a good deal of trouble whilst being
escorted to Melbourne, making several attempts to
escape, but without success, and when he reached the
last stage, Donnybrook, he tied a piece of blanket
round his throat, and was found hung the next
morning in the cell.
A good story used to be told in the early days of
the Ballarat diggings, about a pair of boot-trees
having saved the life of a police-officer. He was
very ill with an abscess on his liver, and the doctors
had all given him up. A police magistrate had
shown him great attention both day and night during
his illness, and when the dying man had abandoned
all hope of recovery, he said to his friend,
" My dear
fellow, you have been very good to me during my
illness, and I want to leave you something. I believe
I am the only person in camp that has a pair of
boot-trees, and when I die you may have them."
The P. M. was very grateful. Next day he came
quietly into the sick-room, thinking his friend was
dying or dead. He picked up the boot-trees and
was in the act of taking them away, when the supposed
defunct, who had been watching him, made
a, sudden start up, and called out, " Come, come,
Mr. P. M., you just leave those trees alone. I am
not dead yet." The sudden start burst the abscess
on his liver, and he recovered. Years afterwards
the boot-trees used to be shown as the "life-preservers."
For four or five years I spent my time in taking
charge of "new rushes." In these days many people
do not even know what a " new rush "
means, so
I will try to describe one. Back Creek, now called
"Talbot," is seven or eight miles from Maryborough.
I was stationed there shortly after it opened.
Diggers were prospecting for gold all over the
country, and when they discovered a rich deposit,
would at once apply to the Warden for an extended
prospecting claim, the holders of which were allowed
a considerable-sized piece of ground, much larger
than the ordinary miner who followed after him.
Most wonderful accounts would immediately be
spread all over the district that some very rich
ground had been discovered, and at once people
would flock to the spot and mark out a piece the
size allowed by the regulation, each one driving in
pegs in the direction they thought the lead would
run. The fabulous accounts of the great finds would
be published in every paper in the colony, and people
would flock in from all parts. Stores would be
erected, theatres built besides numerous hotels
streets formed, and within three weeks or a month
there would be about 50,000 inhabitants on a spot
where, perhaps, a month previous there was not a
living soul besides the prospectors. This is exactly
what took place at Back Creek. A police camp was
formed and several constables sent out, and I was
sent in charge of them. When a rush took place,
the miners from all parts of the colony would make
for it. Back Creek was not wanting in notorious
villains of all sorts ! I had been in charge of the
police at many large rushes, but never in my life had
I seen so many rogues and villains together as were
collected there ! The police were at work day and
night, and found it impossible to keep down the
crime that was being committed. Murders were
of the most frequent occurrence. People were
found murdered in their stores, and were shot on the
highway. I never went out without my revolver, and
when I retired for the night kept it always beside
my bed.
I will give an instance of the kind of crimes that
were constantly taking place. I was in my office,
about three o'clock, and a messenger arrived, saying
there was a terrible fight going on a mile away,
and that a man had been killed. I mounted my
horse, and on my way met a Dr. C. ; I asked him
to accompany me, and left orders for two constables
to follow. Arriving at the place I found a crowd
collected, and saw a man apparently dead, and
beside him a piece of his skull about the size of a
man's hand, with brains in it. I ordered the body
to be removed into a tent. Some one said,
" We are
waiting until he dies before we remove him." I
asked the doctor to examine him, and he said that
he was still alive. The culprit who had committed
the offence was sitting on a log close by, perfectly
indifferent about the matter. I asked some of the
bystanders how the man had been murdered, and
was informed that the prisoner and the wounded
man had had a drunken quarrel ; the prisoner getting
the worst of it, knocked his opponent down, and with
an American axe chopped the piece I have described
off his skull. I ordered his arrest and sent him to
the camp, where he was charged and locked up. I
remained half an hour waiting for the man to die,
but, finding he did not do so, I gave orders that he
should be removed at once into the tent, leaving a
constable, and giving him instructions to remain
there till he died. The doctor would not do anything
to the wound. He said it was useless, as the
man could not live. Next morning I went to see
why the constable had not returned, and, to my surprise,
I found the patient still alive and conscious,
and gradually he got better. The skin grew over
the wound, and some months afterwards he gave
evidence against the offender at the Castlemaine
Assizes, who was convicted and sentenced.
Another case I can remember. One night I was
called about one o'clock, a man informing me he had
shot two men whilst they were in the act of robbing
his store. His story was that he had closed his place
of business before going to bed, having made everything
safe ; but he was awakened during the night,
and through the canvas partition saw two men with
a light helping themselves to his money behind the
counter. He took his revolver and, without moving,
fired at one of the men, who dropped, and then fired
at the other, who walked a few steps and also fell.
He at once came to report the matter. I accompanied
the man to his store, and there found the two
men lying as described by the store-keeper, with the
money beside them. The coroner was informed of
the matter, a jury was summoned, a verdict of justifiable
homicide was returned, and so the matter
ended.
' Another incident took place at Back Creek, which
is most forcibly impressed upon my mind. One
night the lock-up was crowded with prisoners. The
lock-up consisted of two small rooms with a boarded up
space between them ; within this space was the
body of a dead man who had been found murdered
on the road, and the supposed murderer was in the
adjoining cell. My quarters not being more than
twenty yards off, I could hear the sentry pacing up
and down guarding the prisoners. I awoke during
the night, looked out of my door, which I always kept
open, but could see no sign of the sentry. I walked
down to the watch-house, attired as I was still I
could see nothing of him. Thinking perhaps he had
sat down and fallen asleep in the small apartment
where the dead man was lying, I walked in quietly
and listened, but could see or hear nothing. The
sentry, who had happened to be behind the lock-up,
hearing a noise, suddenly came round the corner,
and on seeing me, in a moment cocked his rifle and
presented it at me. I called out, telling him who I
was. He dropped his rifle, exclaiming,
" Oh ! sir, I
thought you were the ghost of the dead man, and I
was going to shoot him !
" From that time I was
more careful how I visited the sentry.
It was my duty to attend the court daily and
conduct the prosecutions of all persons charged with
offences. I was in regular attendance, generally from
ten o'clock till five or six in the evening. A great
part of the night I spent instructing the men in
difficult cases, and giving general directions as to
how they should be managed. In those days we were
not bound down by red-tape regulations, and there
were no newspaper reporters inquiring into every act.
We had a very limited number of men, and they
were worked to death, but there were no complaints
even when working for sixteen hours a day ! The
life was exciting ; gold was obtained by the ounce,
and there were hundreds of thieves preying on the
hard-working miner. Theatres, concerts, dancing
saloons, were open till twelve o'clock at night, and
the scenes I have witnessed in them are beyond
belief. During my whole career in the police force,
I have never had a hand laid on me. Whether my
height and size protected me, I know not. I have
been present when fights and every imaginable
disturbance have been going on, but no one has ever
touched me. I have been stopped at the door of
dancing saloons, and implored by my men not to
enter bottles were being thrown right and left
still not a soul has interfered with me, and I have
managed to quell the disturbance. It was a common
occurrence my being called up at night, and frightful
outrages reported to me. My first question was,
" Have you arrested the offender ?
" When the reply
was "Yes," I would then turn round in my bed
have forgotten the circumstance until reminded by
some one. The camp life was very pleasant on the
diggings, each man had a separate tent to sleep in,
and a large one was used as a mess-room, where all
the officers in the Government service used to mess
together, and spend most sociable evenings, but this
state of things only existed at the head-quarters of
the district, where there were a number of officers
stationed.
Writing of mess-rooms recalls to my memory an
occurrence which took place at Maryborough where
there was an old waiter named Tom, who was
very fond of liquor, and generally, before dinner was
over, was so drunk he could not bring the coffee in.
One of the officers undertook to find out where he
got his liquor from, and he soon ascertained that
when any officer called for a bottle of wine, Tom used
to decant it and leave a third of the wine in the
bottom of the bottle, so he devised a cure for this
state of things. One night, just as Tom had decanted
the wine, I ordered him to go quickly and
get something from the kitchen, and whilst he was
away, I jumped up and put a good strong emetic in
the bottle, having previously mixed the emetic in
some wine ; I gave the bottle a shake and put it
tent, took up the bottle, and marched off with it.
He was watched when he left the tent, and was seen
with the neck of the bottle to his mouth, drinking
the contents ; not long after we heard Tom roaring
at the top of his voice, very ill.
Of course we had quarrels amongst the officers,
and some ludicrous scenes took place. One night I
had been dining out, and returned about ten o'clock.
On seeing a light, I went into the Warden's tent.
The Warden was not in, but the gold-receiver was
sitting on the bed. I said
" What is the matter ? You are as white as a sheet."
He replied, " I have sent to the police magistrate
to ask him to fight a duel with me in the morning."
I said, " Why, what has he been doing to you ? "
" He has insulted me," he said, " in the most gross
manner." " Well," I said, " you need not look so frightened
over it." The owner of the tent soon afterwards entered,
looking very serious, and said, " I conveyed
your message to H., and he says he will see you
first before he fights you !
" He jumped from
the bed, and became most courageous, and said, "I
knew he was a coward, and I would have given
anything to have had a shot at him." Nothing more
came of the matter !
On another occasion a row took place over some
cards, and a duel was to be fought early next
morning between a police officer and a warder, the
P. M. acting as second to the police officer. It was
arranged that the duel should take place at daylight,
next morning, but before going to bed the police
officer called the sergeant-major to bring him twelve
rounds of ball cartridge. He did so, and the pistol
and cartridges were left on his table. Next
morning the P. M., who was a very diminutive little
fellow, went to the tent of the police officer, and
awoke him from his sleep, and told him it was time
to get up to fight the duel. The police officer had
forgotten all about the arrangement made on the
previous night, and jumping out of bed, caught the
P. M. by the back of the neck, and pitched him out
of the tent ; the P. M. went to the Warden and told
him he declined to act as second to the police officer,
and so that matter ended. Notwithstanding all
these larks, we had no end of work to get through,
and we all took a great interest in our different
duties.
Another anecdote recurs to my memory at Maryborough.
There was a very large rush to a place called
Chinaman's Flat, where a fearful amount of crime
went on. Only two constables were stationed there,
and they were kept at work both night and day,
One night I was walking about seeing how everything
was going on, when I met two detectives.
They told me that they knew a notorious convict
who had escaped from Tasmania, and that he was in
a tent on the diggings, living amongst the worst
characters. We decided to arrest him directly the
moon went down, which would be about two o'clock
in the morning. I arranged that one of the
detectives and myself were to go to the front of the
tent whilst the other detective kept at the back, in
case of an attempt being made to escape. Directly
we approached the front of the tent a shot was fired.
We lit a candle, threw ourselves on the convict, and
dragged him from his tent. There were two other
men with him, but the detectives knew the man
they wanted. No sooner had we taken the prisoner
away than we heard of a rescue being arranged, and
in a few minutes a crowd followed us. I felt sure
we had a bloodthirsty set of villains to deal with,
and I blew out the light in our lantern. We
doubled back and sat behind a high bank of earth,
at the same time putting a revolver to the convict's
ear, and telling him if he gave the alarm we would
blow his brains out. The mob followed in the
within a few yards of us. We then went in the
opposite direction with our prisoner and took him
safely into the camp. The police magistrate remanded
him next day back to Tasmania, at the same time
telling us we had carried out the most risky undertaking
he had ever heard of. In the course of three
years I had the management of five new rushes. It
was the most exciting time of my life, and I was not
willing to leave it, but was persuaded to do so.
When the Echuca railway was being built the New
South Wales Government claimed the River Murray,
and issued a proclamation that after a certain day
all boats and dutiable articles found on the river
would be seized and confiscated unless duly registered.
One morning I was prosecuting in the police
court in Melbourne, and the acting Chief Commissioner,
Captain Mair, sent for me. I went to
his office, and he told me Sir James M'Culloch
wished me to start at once for Echuca with twenty
armed policemen, and go as far as Sandhurst that
afternoon. The instructions I received were but
scanty, beyond that I was to protect all boats on the
Victorian side of the river and dutiable articles
that might be landed on the Victorian shore. I had
a proclamation, signed by Sir James M'Culloch, to
on the Victorian bank, provided they were given
over into my charge. I started for Sandhurst, by
the three o'clock train, and a ballast engine was
provided for me, to convey me from Sandhurst to
Echuca, where I arrived at four o'clock in the morning.
At Echuca the town was in a great state of
excitement, fearing their boats would be seized. I
had the proclamation printed at once, and posted on
the trees, and at nine o'clock in the morning got
introduced to the New South Wales Customs officer,
who was dressed up in gold lace and buttons from
head to foot.
I had a conversation with him, and he told me
his orders were to seize all boats that were found on
the Murray. I told him my orders were to protect
these boats against seizure.
I said,
" Then I think we had better bring this
matter to an issue this afternoon. I will start a boat
down the river from opposite Moama to Echuca, on
the Victorian side, with a load of dutiable articles ;
you come and seize them if you can." I asked him
what he would do if he were prevented seizing the
goods. He replied, " I would have to shoot any one
who interfered with me." I said, " All right ; I
will get a buggy ; you accompany me up the river,
previously arranging to have a boat there, and I will
send up some tea and tobacco, put them in the boat,
and start them down the river."
I ordered my sergeant to take up a box of tea and
a case of tobacco, and at three o'clock Mr. G., the
Customs officer of New South Wales, and I drove
up the river. I told him, whatever happened, we
need not quarrel. He concurred, and away we
started. When we got opposite Moama I found a
boat ready for me. I ordered the sergeant to put
the goods in the boat, and jumped in myself. Mr.
G. walked down with a broad-arrow branding-iron,
and said "I seize this boat in the name of the
Queen." I said,
" I would strongly advise your not
putting your foot in this boat. If you do I will
throw you overboard." He said, "Do you mean
it ? " I replied, "
I do." I then landed, telling the
sergeant to take the boat down to Echuca and to
keep away from the New South Wales shore. He
did so, and was in no way molested, and landed the
goods at Echuca. I then said to Mr. G., " I suppose
now you intend telegraphing for orders to your
Government." He said, "Yes, I do." I replied,
" Let us do everything fair and above board ; you
show me the message you intend sending, and I will
do the same." He agreed to this, and we each
showed our respective telegrams, and in half an hour
I received a reply from Sir James M'Culloch to the
following effect :
" So far all right ; if Customs
officer interferes further put him in the lock-up."
Needless to say I did not show this to my quondam
friend ! Mr. G. did not receive any reply to his
message. I remained at Echuca for a month, but
nothing further transpired. I had a sentry day and
night on the boats placed under my charge, but there
was no further interference from the New South
Wales Government, nor do I even know what
arrangement was afterwards made between the two
Governments. On my return to Melbourne Sir
James M'Culloch, the Chief Secretary, sent for me and
paid me the highest compliment on the manner in
which I had conducted the business.

Taken from the book THE LAST OF THE BUSHRANGERS.
FOURTH EDITION.
RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED, LONDON :

Printed By

HURST AND BLACKETT, LIMITED,
13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
1895.