Author: AJFPhelan56

Father, writer, artist and bushranging historian residing in Melbourne, Australia. Author of 'Glenrowan' and the popular website A Guide to Australian Bushranging.

Spotlight: Bushranger Tricked (18/03/1911)

Elmore Standard (Vic. : 1882 – 1920, Saturday 18 March 1911, page 4

BUSHRANGER TRICKED.

A good story is told of the late Mr. James Dennis, one of Australia’s best known hoteliers. In the days of the decaying industry of bushranglng, ruffian entered the bar, and, “covering” Mr. Dennis with his revolver, cried “hands up!” “Surely,” said Mr. Dennis calmly, “it does not require two men to bail me up?” The bushranger, who was on his own, turned round to see who was following, Mr. Dennis whipped out his own gun, and the game was up.

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Spotlight: The Burning of Mr. Morriss’s Store at Binda (24/02/1865)

Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 – 1954), Friday 24 February 1865, page 5



THE BURNING OF MR. MORRISS’S STORE AT BINDA.

——◆——

AIDING AND ABETTING BEN HALL’S GANG TO COMMIT ARSON.

(From the Goulburn Herald, February 22)

AT the Police Court, on Thursday, the 16th, and, by adjournment, on Monday, the 20th instant, before the Police Magistrate, Christina McKinnon, Ellen Monks, and Margaret Monks were charged with aiding and abetting in the commission of arson, on the 26th December last.

Mr. J. T. Gannon appeared for the prosecution, and asked that the Police Magistrate would request the reporters not to publish the evidence until it was concluded. Mr. Allman said he had no doubt the reporters would comply with the request. After a few prefatory remarks, Mr. Gannon called:

James Andrew Pye, detective constable, who deposed: I know the three prisoners, and apprehended them by virtue of three warrants; I arrested Margaret Monks at Vardy’s, on the Cooksvale Creek; I cautioned her, and she made no reply; I arrested the other two at Laggan; Ellen Monks said “all right,” and the other girl made no reply; I arrested them all on Monday; they said nothing to me in connection with the case; I was not present when Morriss’s place was burnt down, but I know where the place is situated; I know Hall’s public-house at Binda, and where Morriss’s store was; I have measured the distance from Hall’s to Morriss’s; it is 143 yards; that is by track; it is much nearer in a direct line; I picked up some melted glass and wire, all welded together in the room amongst the ashes at Morriss’s; Ellen Monks had a ring on when I arrested her; it has not been claimed by any one.

Edward Morriss stated: I have at present no occupation; I was a storekeeper at Binda on the 26th December last; the store was built of slabs and had a bark roof; there were store goods in it; I knew the three prisoners well before this, for the last eight or nine years; I was formerly in the police stationed at Binda, in the neighbourhood of which place the prisoners reside; one of the prisoners was servant to me for nearly a year, Ellen Monks; there was a ball at Binda at Hall’s public-house on the 26th December; I was taken there; I had not been to the house for some weeks before; about eight o’clock on the evening of the 26th I was walking in my paddock after tea and observed five people riding down the hill towards my place; three did not come to the place; I saw that two were females; the three who were mates branched off towards my fence, and I lost sight of them for a time; two females rode up towards the house; they were riding two bay horses; I observed them go into my house, and I still remained walking about the paddock; my wife was alone in the house; I was some twenty or thirty yards off; I went in and found Ellen Monks and Christian McKinnon; they were purchasing crinolines from my wife; we were laughing about crinolines when a tap came to the door; I went to it and six revolvers were pointed at me by three young men; there was a light in the house; each of the men said “bail up”; the girls heard what was said; I said “all right,” and the three came in; Hall at once said, after putting his revolver on one side, “how do you do, Miss McKinnon; how do you do, Miss Monks; “I said to Hall “I suppose you are Ben Hall?” and he replied, “I am that gentleman;” I knew Gilbert before; they asked me how much money I had in the house, and Hall then went and searched the house; they took nothing away except money, and I cannot tell whether that was taken then or subsequently; they said I and my wife must go with them to the ball; I remonstrated, and Hall said it should be at his expense; Hall said, “let your wife put on a clean dress;” Hall told me to lock up the place, and I did so; we then went down to the ball; the bushrangers marched the four of us— the two girls, my wife, and me — to the next door, Hadfield’s; Joseph Hadfield is his name; Hall asked me who lived there, and I informed him; he then told me to bring him out, and I did so; the whole five of us were then marched to Hall’s public-house; when we got there we found a housefull; the bushrangers drove us into the house, and bailed up every one; I then saw Hall searching a good deal about the house; he then said “gentlemen and ladies, I won’t hurt anyone here — fiddler, proceed;” the doors were all locked and the keys in the bushrangers’ pockets; all went right for some hours; the third prisoner, Margaret Monks, was in the room; Hall told me that he would not have brought me if he had not heard it was dangerous to leave me outside; about two o’clock in the morning I proposed to one or two to rush the bushrangers, as I observed they were drinking; about three o’clock, in consequence of my proposal, Hall and Gilbert came towards me, and said, “stand you ——, I’ll shoot you;” during the evening the girls were very intimate with the bushrangers, two of the girls, McKinnon and Ellen Monks; I saw Hall with his arm round Christina McKinnon, and pulling her clothes about; I saw Gilbert doing the same with Ellen Monks; they were kissing each other; at Hadfield’s door I heard Hall say, speaking of Ellen Monks and Christina McKinnon, “I have had the pleasure of escorting these young ladies to the ball;” when the bushrangers threatened to shoot me I got out of the window, and, although they fired several shots, I escaped; I tried to get the bushrangers’ horses, but could not manage it; I then went and lay down in the scrub about half-way between the public-house and my store; presently I saw the three bushrangers advancing towards my house, accompanied by the three prisoners; this was about five minutes after my escape; the three bushrangers were sitting on their horses; they were eight or nine yards from where I was lying when they passed; the girls were walking close to the bushrangers; I heard Hall say — and the girls could hear it — “I’ll make the ——’s place pay for it; I’ll burn his house to the ground;” one of the girls, Christina McKinnon, made answer, “Do it, Ben, it serves the —— right;” Ellen Monks, at the same time said, “do it, Ben, it serves him right;” the other girl, Margaret Monks, said, at the same time, “save poor Mrs. Morriss’s clothes;” Gilbert answered her and said, “The —— has got lots of money in the bank, let him buy her more;” the whole six then went to my house and broke into it; meantime I gradually shifted closer to the house, through the scrub; I was not more than a dozen yards away then; there were two very heavy logs there; I showed the place to constable Pye; by the time I got to the logs the bushrangers had broken open the house, and five had got into the house, Dunn remaining on his horse outside; the girls had nothing in their hands when they went up to the house with the bushrangers; almost immediately I saw one or two candles lighted in the house; the windows and door were open, and I could occasionally distinguish the girls and bushrangers; I heard laughing and breaking open of boxes, &c.; the girls were skylarking; I saw the three girls coming out of the house just as the place was blazing up; two of the girls had very large bundles; I could smell the kerosene burning at this time; the two girls with bundles were Christina McKinnon and Ellen Monks; they first came out with their saddles, which they had left there, having turned their horses out in my paddock, and they then went back and brought out the bundles; Peggy Monks came to young Dunn, who was sitting on horseback, and stopped with him; the other two bushrangers came out almost immediately after the girls; in consequence of the great light, I began to get away lest I should be seen; the two girls with the bundles went along the fence a short distance and they then went through it and into the scrub; Hall and Gilbert followed them; they remained up in the scrub, away out of my sight, for a quarter of an hour, and then all four came back together to Dunn; they had no bundles with them then; as Hall jumped on his horse he said “that’ll teach the —— not to interfere with us;” the remark was addressed to the other two bushrangers and to the girls; no reply was made; all three bushrangers rode away towards the public-house; two of the girls then lifted up their saddles and their skirts which had been left near the fence, and went the same road; my place was burnt down; I came into Goulburn to report it; when I came into Goulburn I mentioned the girl’s names; I applied to Mr. Oakes, a magistrate, for a warrant, and he told me he hadn’t time.

The three prisoners said, in reply to the Bench, that they had no questions to ask witness.

Joseph Hadfield deposed: I am a labouring man, and live at the Crookwell; I was poundkeeper at Binda in December last; I recollect the bushrangers being there on the 26th, and Morriss’s store being burned down; I lived about a dozen yards from Morriss’s; I recollect seeing Ellen Monks and McKinnon at Morriss’s store when the bushrangers took me there; the bushrangers took us all to Hall’s together; towards morning Ben Hall said something about burning down Morriss’s house; they then left; the prisoners afterwards left, saying they would go for their saddles; no one was allowed to go, the bushrangers saying they would shoot any one who left; I did not take notice of the third prisoner; I spoke to Ellen Monks at Morriss’s about the bushrangers; I asked her if those were her sweethearts; she said “yes,” or “yes to be sure;” I did not see by whom Morriss’s house was burned; I met prisoners coming down from there as I was going up; on Saturday following I found a pair of women’s elastic-side boots forty or fifty yards from where Morriss’s house stood, and close to the fence; I gave them to Mrs. Morriss; no one was present when I handed them to her, nor when I found them.

To the Bench: I was taken to Morriss’s house about nine o’clock, and there first saw the prisoners; I had been in Morriss’s about five minutes, when we all started off for the public-house; Mrs. Morriss was dressing herself, and we waited for her; previous to going to Hall the publican’s, Hall the bushranger did not say in my hearing that he had had the pleasure of escorting the young ladies; the bushrangers said publicly at Hall’s that they were going to burn Morriss’s house.

To Mr. Gannon: It was about half an hour from the time the girls left till I met them coming back; Morriss’ house is about a hundred yards from Hall’s; the girls were carrying something; I cannot say what.

To Mr. Walsh: I cannot swear that either of the girls except Ellen Monks had any bundle when I met them coming back from Morriss’; I cannot say whether it might have been a riding-habit; we were about six or seven hours detained at Morriss’; I saw Ellen Monks dancing; I did not drink nor dance, nor did Morriss; I did not feel at all alarmed; I am an old soldier, and have been in the police with Morriss.

Mary Morriss deposed: I am wife of Edward Morriss, of Binda; I have known prionsers about a couple of years; Ellen Monks once lived with me; my husband’s place was burned down on the morning of the 27th December; on the evening of the 26th I saw McKinnon and Ellen Monks at my place; they came about eight o’clock; they called for some crinolines; in about five minutes three men came in; I afterwards found out that they were Ben Hall, Gilbert, and Dunn; Hall went to where we kept the money, in a quart pot; we were then ordered to the public-house; Dunn went and called Hadfield out of his house, and we all went to the public-house; I cannot recollect whether Hadfield was taken to our house; while I was at the public-house I saw all three prisoners; I saw the bushrangers skylarking with McKinnon and Ellen Monks; Ben Hall was kissing Christina McKinnon, and Gilbert Ellen Monks; I heard Ben Hall say that he would burn down the —— dog’s house, that he was the only dog in Binda who would take them; this was said before everybody, and in the presence of the prisoners; this was said to Morriss; the bushrangers went outside, and I heard shots fired; I begged of Hall not to burn our place down; he said it was all very fine, that he would burn the place down, and that he would blow out my brains, or those of any one else that went outside, except the two girls; Hall and Dunn went outside; I asked Gilbert to spare my clothes; he said he would; the three prisoners left two or three minutes after the bushrangers; I saw the girls talking to the bushrangers; I did not see which way they went; I saw a bit of a twinkling light at my place, and afterwards saw it burning; I left the public-house, and met the girls coming down; I said, “Ellen, did they put out my clothes?” she said, “Yes ;” the girls and the bushrangers left my place together; Hadfield gave me a pair of boots; it was not many days after the fire; they were part of my husband’s goods.

To the Bench: My husband was not in the store when the bushrangers came up first; there was no tap at the door; they walked in; when the girls were coming from my place they had their saddles in their hands; I did not see that they had anything else.

To Mr. Walsh: When the bushrangers ordered us down to the publican’s I changed my skirt; I did not hear the bushrangers say that they thought it a great honour to escort so many young ladies to the ball; I saw no one but the bushrangers kiss anyone; I danced with Dunn; Dunn asked me to dance with him; I refused; he said I must; after I saw prisoners carrying the saddles I never saw them again until they were in the lock-up.

Margaret Monks was then discharged, and the other two prisoners were committed to take their trial at the assizes.

Mr. Walsh applied for bail. Looking at the evidence, it was by no means certain that there would be a conviction. The only evidence bearing on the particular charge was that of the alleged conversation while going from the public-house to Morriss’; and this was after the bushrangers had avowed their intention to burn down the place, so that it could not be said that the prisoners had incited them to the commission of the offence.

The Bench reserved its decision on this question till Wednesday.

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Spotlight: Morgan (18/02/1865)

Adelaide Express (SA : 1863 – 1866), Saturday 18 February 1865, page 3

NEW SOUTH WALES.

Morgan:— It would appear by the following extract from the Ovens and Murray Advertiser of Saturday, that Morgan has been carrying on his operations recently very near the Victorian frontier:—

“John, Arthur, and W. Whitehead, the eldest a very young man, and the latter boys, crossed the Murray from the Gooramadda Station on Saturday last, in search of some cattle that had gone over into New South Wales. When about 20 miles from home, close to the Gumballah (?) Paddock, they saw a man near the slip-rail, on the other side of the fence. They were riding away from him when he called on them to stand and come back to the slip-rail, covering them at the same time with a carbine. On returning to him, he ordered the eldest to let down the slip-rail, keeping him covered all the time. The young man of course complied, and he immediately asked them for their money. John, who acted as spokesman for the party generally, said, ‘I suppose you are Mr. Morgan?’ He said, ‘Yes,’ and was handed a purse. He then desired to know how much it contained, and was told a £1-note, 1s. 6d. in silver, and a bridge ticket. He also asked the boys, but they, answered they had no money — one of them adding, rather coolly, that he wished he had. He then took the young man’s watch, but on being told that it was a present from a cousin now in England, he appeared to hesitate about it, finally handing it back, with the remark that there were plenty of ‘watches’ for him in all directions, but he would like one of the horses. John Whitehead said the pony was also a present, on which Morgan said, ‘You appear to have a great number of kind relations. He kept them prisoners until near sundown, about an hour and a-half, chatting familiarly with them, and no doubt pumping them for information. Among other things he said, ‘I heard you crossed the river, and have been watching you, thinking your high pads were holsters, and that you were Victorian police, whose acquaintance I want to make.’ They told him they were going in a certain direction to look for the cattle in the morning; to which he answered that perhaps they would not be alive. Before parting, however, he directed them to a certain person to whom he desired his name to be mentioned, and they would get the cattle. He then returned them the watch, the whole of the money, made them put up the sliprails, and said:— ‘My lads, you had better not say you met me here just yet.’ They said, ‘May we not say, in a few days, when we return home, that we have seen you?’ He gave them permission to do so, and they separated again on opposite sides of the fence. We heartily desire Morgan to have his wish in seeing some of the Victorian police. Morgan was mounted on a chesnut horse, which came to his call.”

The Murray Gazette says of this ruffian:—

“The latest news concerning the ruffian Morgan is that, after stealing a valuable horse, he was believed to be making his way in the direction of Kiandra, over the Tumberumba ranges — the police and trackers in pursuit.” Whether or not there is any truth in the statement, it seems clear that the Albury police have been altogether unsuccessful in coming upon any traces of this bloodthirsty miscreant. Perhaps the allegation contained in the following paragraph from the Pastoral Times will explain the reason of their failure —

“We are loth to give currency to unpleasant rumours respecting the police, but when the truth of a report is vouched for by a gentleman in whose faith we place reliance, we have no option in the matter. We hear, then, that a small party of police, who were lately after Morgan, and had tracked him to his still burning camp fire, ceased to follow the game having expended their powder in the pleasanter occupation of duck shooting, and, we suppose, did not care to risk an encounter without ammunition.”

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Spotlight: Inquest on Constable Nelson (04/02/1865)

Sydney Mail (NSW : 1860 – 1871), Saturday 4 February 1865, page 6

[From the Herald’s Correspondent.]

INQUEST ON CONSTABLE NELSON

On Friday last Dr. Waugh, coroner, held an inquest at Mr. Kimberley’s Inn, Collector, on the body of Samuel Nelson, who was shot by the bushrangers on the previous evening. The following witnesses were examined:—

Mr. Edwards, who gave similar evidence to that given at the magisterial investigation, and which has been already published.

Maurie Mellan deposed: I am a labouring man, looking for work; yesterday afternoon I was stuck-up by bushrangers and detained till near dark; I remained at the spot all night and this morning, coming towards Collector, when within about a hundred and thirty yards of this house I found two single barrelled fowling-pieces which had apparently been thrown carelessly down beside a tree; I gave them to the police; I believe the bushrangers were Gilbert, Hall, and Dunn.

Constable Bourke deposed that one of those guns was loaded with two balls, the other was not loaded.

Frederick Nelson, aged about eighteen, eldest son of deceased, deposed: I am farming about Collector, and resided with my father, the deceased; my father was named Samuel Nelson, and was lock-up keeper here; he was aged about thirty-eight years, and had been in the police force here about seven years and a half, and had previously been in the police force at Moreton Bay; I had tea with my father yesterday evening, and afterwards went over to Mr. Waddell’s and remained there about half an hour and on leaving I saw my father in constable Bourke’s yard; he left and walked towards home; I did not speak to him as he was a good way off; I had heard that the bushrangers were at Kimberley’s, and went towards there to see if it was true; on my way I met Mr. Edwards, who told me it was true; while I was going towards Kimberley’s my father was also doing so, but from a different direction, and got near the house before I did; when my father got near a fence close by the house, a bushranger sprang from behind the fence and called to my father to stand, and fired immediately afterwards, on which my father staggered into the road and called out “Oh!” the bushranger fired again, and my father fell; I was inside the fence at this time, and about ten yards from my father; the bushranger called on me to stand, but I ran away, on which the bushranger fired at me, but did not hit me; it was light enough for me to see, but not to recognise the man who shot my father; I spread the alarm through the township of what was going on, and after a while my brother came and said that the bushrangers had gone, on which I went up to Kimberley’s and found my father’s body had been taken inside the house; he was quite dead; while this took place my brother was compelled to hold the bushrangers’ horses outside Kimberley’s house, having before this been compelled to march there, a distance of three miles; when my father fell I heard his carbine fall from his hands on to the ground.

Dr. Hanford deposed: I have made a post-mortem examination of the body of the deceased; on examining the body externally, I found a bullet wound midway between the nose and the ear on the left side of the face ; also a wound, two inches long and two and a half inches broad, on the left side of the chest, and twenty shot marks round the wound ; the wound took an oblique direction downwards; the stomach was protruding through the opening; on examining the cavity of the chest, I found the heart lacerated to the extent of one and a half inch at the anterior and lower half towards the left side; the remaining viscera were healthy; on examining the abdomen, I found several shots in the liver, and a portion of a wire cartridge with several shots in it, which I produce; the shots correspond with those I have just taken from a wire cartridge given to me now; the stomach was perforated, but the other viscera were healthy; the fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth ribs on the left side were fracture; the brain and membranes were uninjured; the ball most probably, passed into the deep muscles of the neck, as I could not trace its course; death resulted from the wound I have described and no other cause.

Elizabeth Nelson, widow of the deceased, deposed: Yesterday evening I got word that the bushrangers were at Kimberley’s; deceased was out but was speedily found, ran home, put on his belt, took his loaded carbine with the bayonet on it, and left the house saying, “now, I am just going to do my best;” I did not again see him alive.

Thomas Kimberley gave evidence to that already published, and added: The bushrangers brought down from upstairs and took away two single-barrelled fowling-pieces, both loaded with cartridge; the guns now produced are the same; the bushrangers took from me property to the value of about £26, consisting of boots and men’s and boys’ clothing, and a six-barrelled revolver; directly after they went away some of the people who had been brought here or stuck-up by them, went to deceased and found him quite dead; I have examined the place where deceased was found, and ascertained that it is about twenty yards from where the bushranger stood when he fired.

Thomas Mensey, a bootmaker, deposed to having been stuck up by three bushrangers and kept in custody till nearly dark; afterwards returned to Mr. Kimberley’s, when he met the same parties within a hundred and fifty yards of the house; believed them to be Ben Hall, Gilbert, and Dunn; at Kimberley’s was told the bushrangers had just left.

Eliza Mensey, servant at Kimberley’s, deposed: I was here yesterday when the house was stuck-up by bushranger; I went upstairs with one of the bushrangers with the keys to open the drawers; he remained there a few minutes and conversed with me; he told me his name was Hall, and that the man outside on guard was Dunn; I was standing on the step outside the front door when the shot was fired; the man who fired the shot was the man Hall called Dunn.

The jury returned a verdict that deceased was wilfully murdered by John Dunn, and that Benjamin Hall and John Gilbert were aiding and abetting. The jury added a rider strongly recommending the family of the deceased to the favourable consideration of the Government.

Goulburn, January 28th.

—————–

We have been kindly favoured with the following extracts of a letter from Mr. District Judge Meymott to his brother, Dr. Meymott. It bears date, Gunning, January 28th, and the writer says :—

I am thankful to be able to tell you that I have arrived safely at this place, about halfway between Goulburn and Yass. But though my journey from Goulburn has been safe, it has not been without adventure.

I left Goulburn about eleven forenoon, on Thursday, the 26th, escorted by two mounted troopers, one in advance, and the other immediately behind my carriage. I came by way of Collector, partly to visit Mr. Murray and partly in hopes of avoiding the bushrangers who were known or believed to be between this place and Goulburn. However instead of avoiding them, I fell in with them. After having journeyed about eighteen miles, we had to descend rather a long hill winding through thickly wooded country. At the bottom of the hill was open country, and a lagoon called Rose’s Lagoon on the left; on the right, rising hills highly timbered near the base, but increasing in thickness of bush towards the top, where it became dense forest.

When near the lagoon, the trooper in advance gallopped on towards the hill on the right, making signs to the man behind to follow, which he very soon did, and away they went at high speed up this hill. I drove gently on down towards the lake, and, on nearing it, I saw eight or ten people under a tree near the water, about fifty yards off the road, and two drays and a cart, and several horses. I drove up to them and found they had been there, some two or three of them, since six in the morning (it was then past two), having been stuck-up by Ben Hall, Gilbert, and Dunn; the number of persons stuck-up increasing as the day wore on. The spokesman told me that the ruffians had only a short time before lit a fire and ordered him to make tea for them, and they were about to have a meal (other prisoners being found in the cart) when Dunn, who was on the look-out, spied my advance guard through the trees about half a mile off, and called out “Here’s a —— trap!” Gilbert said, “If there’s only one let’s face him.” Directly afterwards, my carriage and the other trooper coming in sight, Ben Hall said, “No, there’s more of them, let us be off.” So saying, they leaped on their horses and galloped away as hard as they could up the hill I have described, and it was on my advance guard seeing them in the distance, that he put spurs to his horse and made towards that hill. A few moments after I had joined the bailed-up party, my troopers returned, having lost sight of the bushrangers in the thickness of the bush. When the police heard who the men were, for they did not and could not know before (especially as they were fully a mile ahead when the trooper first saw them), they were desirous of going in pursuit.

Mr. Voss, a magistrate, came up at that time, and, after a little consultation, it was thought best for us to come on to Collector. So we parted from the captives, who were very glad to be released, and came on to Collector. Mr. Voss, with what force he could collect, intending to go in pursuit of the bushrangers, and myself proceeding onward to Mr. Murray’s, about a mile and a half farther, which I reached in safety shortly after four o’clock.

But the exciting events of the day were not yet over, the worst part remains to be told. About eight o’clock in the evening, Mr. Edwards (Mrs. Murray’s brother), came in with the news that the highwaymen had been in to Collector, and had robbed one or two stores, and that while Hall and Gilbert were in a public-house and store kept by Mr. Kindesley, or some such name, (Dunn watching outside,) a policeman was seen to approach, and Dunn shot him dead on the spot. The gang then made off from the place, and, according to rumour, fell in with Mr. Voss and his party. Some shots were exchanged, and the thieves escaped, minus one horse, saddle, and bridle, which are now in custody of the police at Collector. Mr. Edwards also said he had heard that before leaving Collector, the robbers had been heard to state that they meant to visit Mr. Murray’s.

This news, of course, created some excitement, but I am pleased to say, no weak, foolish fear among the household. All the available men and arms were, as speedily as possible, collected, the entrances secured, and watch was kept by turns all night.

About ten yesterday, the police came to Mr. Murray’s, to escort me onwards; but as the bushrangers were still hovering about in the neighbourhood, I thought it best not to take away two out of the three policemen in the place, and that it was much better for them to stay where they were, in case their services might be needed. So we kept watch, and were all day under arms at Mr. Murray’s, and the police kept a good look-out about the town; but all remained quiet.

This morning I heard of one report, that the gang had come on this way with the determination of attacking me for interfering with them the day before; but another report seemed to be more likely to be correct, viz. that they intended to waylay me and see me safe on the road for some miles with the police, and then to go back and finish robbing the town.

I left Mr. Murray’s about 10.30 a.m. with the two troopers and a civilian who was coming this way, and arrived here in safety. We met two villainous looking fellows on the road, whom the senior constable (Bourke) questioned, but could elicit nothing from them. They were doubtless Ben Hall’s scouts, and I think it very possible these fellows would soon have told Hall that I had passed on and that the gang would return to finish their work at Collector. If they do, they will meet with a warm reception, for special constables have been sworn in, and everybody round is prepared to give them battle.

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The Shoot-Out at the Woolpack Inn

By 31 January 1843 Cash and Company had been bushranging for just over a month, and nothing yet had curbed the enthusiasm of Martin Cash, George Jones and Lawrence Kavanagh as they plundered their way through Van Diemen’s Land. In fact their remarkable success had further emboldened them. At the end of January they continued to make their way through districts such as Bagdad, Prosser’s Plains, New Norfolk and Broadmarsh and soon set their sights on a small stone building in Macquarie Plains (or Gretna as the area would later be known), about four hours away by foot from the township of New Norfolk.

The gang having raided a pub near the Bagdad Mill where a prisoner had escaped, and shortly afterwards having robbed the property of the Pantons in Broadmarsh, and knowing word would have gotten out about their actions in both places, Cash feared their current route would be predicted and intercepted by the authorities. He suggested breaking new ground. The gang spent a considerable time debating this course of action around the campfire before deciding to target the Woolpack Inn at Macquarie Plains.

***

“Wool Pack Inn, Gretna”, photographed 22/09/1934 by Commercial Travellers’ Association. [Courtesy: University of Melbourne Archives; 1979.0162.03129]

Macquarie Plains — a serene and picturesque location dotted with occasional farms and not much else — was conveniently situated on the road from New Norfolk to Hamilton, well clear of their most recent outrage in Bagdad, and the inn was close to the roadside. It was ripe for the picking.

Three days after the raid at the Pantons’ in Broadmarsh, they encountered a convict shepherd belonging to Captain John Fenton. They detained him for three hours and interrogated him about the area. The shepherd informed them that the constabulary was particularly active in the area they were headed to as a party of police had recently been stationed there to protect the region.

“It’s a fool’s errand going there. There’s constables laying in wait for you,” said the shepherd.

Cash smirked, “All the better for us to prove our arms.”

After giving the shepherd some refreshments they turned him loose and continued on their way.

The bushrangers continued on foot for two days until they reached the outskirts of the neighbourhood. A quarter of a mile from the inn they hid their swags to enable themselves to move unencumbered, then proceeded to the inn.

Arriving at around 8:00pm, the trio passed a hut fifty yards in front of the inn and proceeded to the front door of the main building. They immediately got to work bailing up everyone in sight: Mrs. Stoddart and her two sons, and three men who had been quietly drinking in the bar.

Naturally Mrs. Stoddart screamed when presented with the business end of a double-barrelled gun by Cash. Cash replied, “Do not disturb yourself; any person who does not offer resistance is perfectly safe.”

One of the young Stoddarts attempted to calm his mother, taking her hand and stating, “Oh, Mother, never mind. Do not be frightened. It will be alright, by and by.”

Cash took note of the young man’s tone and suspected that there was a hidden meaning in his words. On the surface it seemed that he was innocently reassuring the woman that the bushrangers would do no harm, it occurred to the bandit that more than likely he was indicating that the constabulary would soon be present. Cash turned to him with a fiery glint in his eye.

“Are you the master of the house?”

“No. My father is absent.”

Cash positioned himself so that he could keep the occupants of the inn covered while getting a view out of the window. He noted what seemed to be a smirk on the young man’s face.

“You seem very confident, but I suspect that you do not depend on your own prowess. You’d better keep your sneers to yourself until you find yourself out of danger, boy. Those police you’ve go planted about might not even be able to protect themselves.”

As the pair spoke, Jones went behind the bar and Kavanagh took position at the street door keeping a look out for new arrivals. Cash turned his attention on the matriarch.

“That hut out there — does it belong to you? Who resides there?”

“Nobody,” Mrs. Stoddart replied, “I have no men there.”

Cash did not believe the woman and gestured for Jones and Kavanagh to go and check, telling them to bail up any men they found inside the hut. As he gave his order his eyes flicked to the window and he perceived movement outside. He cursed under his breath. “Get ready,” he instructed his comrades, then strode to the doorway.

As he stepped outside he heard the voice of a man cry out, “Stand!” He paused and adjusted his eyes to the gloom, discerning men coming towards him. One took a few steps forward of the others. Cash moved forward, raised his shotgun, levelled it and fired. The blast struck the man in the left side, tearing two of his ribs away from his spine. He collapsed in agony, groaning.

Kavanagh and Jones followed Cash outside, standing half a dozen paces behind. They raised their own weapons and fired over Cash’s shoulders before doubling-back. Another constable fell with a gunshot wound to the thigh. The approaching men returned fire. Cash fired again and turned to give orders to the others but found them missing. In his haste he stumbled, but quickly regained his footing as a lead ball whizzed by his head. He went to the doorway and looked inside, but could not see his companions. After a brief exploration of the exterior of the inn with no result, Cash went back inside and found that the prisoners had taken cover for fear of being hit in the crossfire.

Cash spotted young Stoddart cowering beside the chimney. He mocked the young man, “Not sneering now, are you?”

That troublesome rage that always led Cash into trouble bubbled up again, and he became reckless. He reloaded his shotgun and stomped to the doorway ready to brawl. He turned to the people in the room with a snarl.

“Anyone that moves an inch will get their brains blown out,” he growled. He proceeded to stand guard, ready to launch another attack on his opposition at any moment, for five minutes before retreating inside and grabbing a three gallon keg of brandy from behind the bar. Without further word, Cash exited the Woolpack Inn and headed for the scrub where the trio had hidden their knapsacks, guided by the moonlight.

When almost at the spot, Cash paused — he could hear voices from the bush. With the keg in one hand and the shotgun in the other, Cash cocked the weapon and held it out in the direction of the sound.

“Who’s there? Out of that!”

The talking stopped and Kavanagh and Jones sheepishly emerged from the scrub.

“Where were you?” Cash asked.

“Once the firing started we tried to make a run for it before it got too hot,” Kavanagh replied.

“You deserted me?”

“Martin,” said Jones, “if we knew you meant to stay on and fight we’d have come right back. We thought you were behind us.”

“I saw you fall. I thought you had been shot,” said Kavanagh. Cash sneered.

“Are you injured?” Cash asked after a pause. Both men replied that they were unharmed. Cash grunted and thrust the keg into Kavanagh’s chest.

“At least I made sure we didn’t leave completely empty-handed.”

Cash continued to walk towards the hiding place with the others close behind.

“You know Martin,” said Jones, “we all really should have gotten out of there once the firing started. There was no need to hang about looking for more trouble.”

“Well, Cash had the upper hand on ’em, to be sure,” said Kavanagh.

Cash halted and turned to the others.

“No, Jones is right. You both made the right choice, it was I who was the more foolish for choosing to fight when there was no need. In future, we should always take our leave at the first opportunity rather than put our heads in the lion’s mouth.”

Jones and Kavanagh looked at each other with confusion.

“Yeah…?” Kavanagh began.

“No, you fools!” Cash snapped, “the moment I back away from a fight I may as well be dead already. We stand, we fight, we show ’em the error of their ways in being the Queen’s hunting hounds. We’ll never get them off our backs unless we can prove we are indomitable.”

The trio repaired to a secluded spot and poured themselves some brandy while they discussed their next move.

“I’m certain sure that I killed one or two of the constables back there. If not then I am sure I have crippled him. If ever I get caught I’m to hang, so I say that we start acting like our lives are forfeit if we get captured.”

The others nodded in solemn agreement and sipped quietly as they contemplated the reality of their position. They no longer had the desire to be forever on the move, they needed a lair, somewhere safe they could stay. Somewhere that they could hold their own in the event of being discovered by police or soldiers. A fortress in the bush…

The Woolpack Inn
First published on Martin Cash and Company
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Spotlight: Thunderbolt’s Boy (30/01/1869)

Sydney Mail (NSW : 1860 – 1871), Saturday 30 January 1869, page 5

TOWN AND COUNTRY.

Thunderbolt’s Boy. — The Glen Innes correspondent of the Armidale Express writes :—

The boy Munckton was finally brought up before the Bench, consisting of Messrs. Fraser and Dumaresq, J.P.’s, on Friday, and committed for trial at the next Circuit Court in Armidale, some time in April, on three charges — the first, for being an accomplice of Frederick Ward, or Thunderbolt, in sticking up Mr. Maund’s store at Wellingrove, in October last. Mr. Maund positively swore to the boy’s identity, and further that he stood watch over him with a revolver, and that when going into the house the boy said “Don’t move, Maund,” and presented a revolver at him.

On the second charge — stealing a bay mare, the property of Colin McIntyre, of Wellingrove, on New Year’s Day last — witnesses swore to the mare, although not brought up at the Courthouse, though ordered to be done so by the police. It had been in the possession of the boy, but was not actually seen with him when apprehended by Mr. Duncan McKenzie, the overseer of Wellingrove station, who, on missing the mare in the morning, followed him beyond Strathbogie station, and found him lying down in the bush. On challenging him about the theft, the boy went up the gully or creek where he was, and gave up the mare, ready saddled and in hobbles, to Mr. McKenzie, who brought him to the station, having, we understand, given him a good castigation previously, although it did not appear in evidence.

The third charge was for stealing one of Mr. F. C. Campbell’s saddles and bridles, these articles being found on the mare by Mr. McKenzie when he overtook the boy and apprehended him. It is a pity that so young a lad should have had to be brought up on these charges, whatever the verdict of the jury before whom, he will be tried may be hereafter. The lad stated that he never wished to remain with Thunderbolt, that he was afraid of him, and that he bolted from him some time after the affair at Wellingrove. He then sought some employment, and was hired at Meesrs. Campbell and Gibson’s station, at Wellingrove, working in the woolshed and at other places. He seemed to have kept his secret pretty well, for no one there knew he was the boy who had been with Thunderbolt — at least, no information or suspicion of it came to the ears of the police. He stated that he passed one of the policemen of Glen Innes at the Wellingrove races who knew him well, but he turned his head aside and was not recognised. No doubt neither of the constables at the Wellingrove races ever thought of him; he was not the party wanted, so he easily avoided recognition.

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Spotlight: Amateur Bushranger (16/01/1907)

Warwick Examiner and Times (Qld. : 1867 – 1919), Wednesday 16 January 1907, page 3

AMATEUR BUSHRANGER

In the Tenterfield district a man named John Croft has lately been creating some excitment wildly reminiscent of the bushranging days. It is alleged that he shot a resident’s horse, attempted to burn down the Black Swamp school, and then took to the bush. The police went in pursuit, and after several days hard riding in the rain, captured him, after firing several shots. He was brought before the Police Court, and remanded for a week.

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Spotlight: Ben Hall’s Gang at Binda (14/01/1865)

Border Watch (Mount Gambier, SA : 1861 – 1954), Saturday 14 January 1865, page 1

BEN HALL’S GANG AT BINDA.

(From the Goulburn Herald, December 28)

On Monday evening last, Ben Hall, Gilbert and Dunn, came to the Flagstaff Store, at Binda, forty miles from Goulburn, and told the proprietor, Mr. Morriss, and his wife to accompany them to the Flag Hotel, at which place the landlord intended giving a ball. Mr and Mrs Morriss declined, but the bushrangers insisted on their doing so, and told Mrs M. to change her dress. Formerly Mr Morriss had been in the police force, and had the reputation of being a most active and successful officer; and it is supposed that on this account the bushrangers were afraid of his organising means for their capture if they allowed him to remain at home. Mrs Morriss was obliged to change her dress accordingly; and while this was going on the bushrangers searched about the place and secured about £100 in money which was on the premises. They then proceeded with Mr and Mrs Morris to the inn, and bailed up the inmates, numbering about one hundred — nearly the whole population of Binda. Their object, however, did not appear to be so much robbery as that of having a “spree”; and they insisted on the festivities being proceeded with and joined in the dancing and other amusements with the greatest zest. They frequently treated the company, and drank gin themselves but not to excess.

Time wore on and between two and three o’clock in the morning Mr Morriss proposed to some of the company to rush the bushrangers, himself agreeing to attack Ben Hall as he was the biggest man of the three. Whether some of them were traitors or not it seems hard to determine; but just as the plan was to have been put in execution, the bushrangers were observed speaking together, and looking towards Morriss, and Gilbert came towards him presenting two revolvers. Of course there was no chance of taking them unawares, and Morriss lost no time in making his escape through the window, making straight for where the bushrangers had their horses. The bushrangers came furiously after him, firing several shots as they did so. Mr Morriss was therefore compelled to make off, and fortunately succeeded in getting clear of his assailants.

The bushrangers then returned to the inn, where they declared they would burn down Morriss’s house. They went to the store, and after searching about, set fire to the building, watching the progress of the flames for a time, and then taking their departure.

Mr Morriss had been some two or three years in Binda, and was estimated to be worth about £1,000. He is now utterly penniless, the clothes he stands in being his sole worldly possessions.

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Spotlight: Ben Hall’s Gang at Binda (04/01/1865)

Bendigo Advertiser (Vic. : 1855 – 1918), Wednesday 4 January 1865, page 3

BEN HALL’S GANG AT BINDA.

About eight o’clock on Monday evening, Ben Hall, Gilbert and Dunn came to the Flagstaff Store at Binda, forty miles from Goulburn, and told the proprietor, Mr Morriss, and his wife to accompany them to the Flag Hotel, at which the landlord, Mr John Hall, was that evening giving a ball to his neighbors in celebration of Boxing Day. Mr and Mrs Morriss declined, but the bushrangers insisted on their doing so, and told Mrs Morriss to change her dress. It may be mentioned that Mr Morriss had formerly been in the police force, and had gained the reputation of being a most active and successful officer; and it is supposed that on this account the bushrangers were afraid of his organising means for their capture if they allowed him to remain at home. Mrs Morriss was obliged to change her dress accordingly; and while this was going on the bushrangers were searching about the plac and either then or on their subsequent return to the premises it is supposed they secured about L100 in money which was on the premises. They then proceeded with Mr and Mrs Morriss to the inn, and bailed up the inmates, numbering about a hundred — nearly the whole population of Binda. Their object, however, did not appear to be so much robbery as that, of having a spree; and they insisted on the festivities being proceeded with, and joined in the dancing and other amusements apparently with the greatest zest. At first, and at intervals, they searched about the place for money. They frequently treated the company, and drank gin themselves, but not to excess.

Time wore on, and between two and three in the morning Mr Morriss proposed to one of the company to attempt to rush on the bushrangers, himself agreeing to attack Hall as the biggest man of the three. To this he assented. It was then necessary to get others to join in the plan; and one or two were accordingly spoken to, who also agreed. Whether these were traitors or not it seems hard to determine; but just as the plan was to have been put into execution Gilbert was observed to speak to Ben Hall and both to look at Morriss, and immediately afterwards Gilbert advanced towards him presenting two revolvers. Of course there was no longer a chance of taking them unawares; and Mr Morriss lost not a moment in jumping out of the window, and making for where the bushrangers had their horses. As he fled the bushrangers fired at him. He, however, actually succeeded in getting possession for a moment of their horses; but by this time they had got out of the inn and came furiously after him, firing several shots as they did so. Mr Morriss was therefore compelled to make off, and fortunately succeeded in getting clear of his assailants.

The bushrangers now returned to the inn, where they declared that they would burn down Morriss’s house. They then left to put their threat into execution. Mrs Morriss, in her desperation, actually clung to them, and besought them in the most moving terms not to do so, but in vain They said that Morriss was a dog; and that they would yet come across him and have his life. They went to the store, and, after again searching about, set fire to the building, watching the progress of the flames for a time, and then taking their departure.

The whole building and the stock it contained, together with a number of promissory notes, and the books of account have been destroyed, and all that remains of the store is now a heap of ruins.

Mr Morriss having kept out of the way until he had seen the bushrangers leave, now returned; and, having got a horse, left his wife lying on the ground in front of where their house had but a short time before stood, and came into Goulburn to report the occurrence On his way in, near Dixon’s meadow, about twelve miles only from town, he saw the bushrangers camped, and cleaning their arms.

When Mr Morriss reached the police barracks the superintendent was absent, and two hours after the news had come to hand troopers were seen riding about the town in search of that officer. Whether in the meantime any parties had been despatched in search of the bushrangers or not we have no means of knowing; but it was generally remarked that the foot police could very well have found the superintendent and have apprised him of what had occurred, while the whole available mounted police should have gone in pursuit. It has been noticed on previous occasions that two hours have elapsed between the times of information reaching town and the police taking action, and on the present occasion the same period elapsed before the superintendent was found. There is no doubt that the barracks and head-quarters of the force have no business to be at the Old Township, nearly two miles from the centre of the city. The press has called attention to this before, and it only remains for us to say that if this state of things is to continue we might as well be without the mounted force altogether.

It may be mentioned that Binda is a police-station, having a lock-up keeper and two mounted constables; but on this occasion they were all in Goulburn, having escorted in there prisoners.

Mr Morriss had been some two or three years settled in Binda and was beginning to get comfortably off in the world, estimating himself to be worth L1000. He is now utterly penniless, the clothes he stands in being his sole worldly possessions On the books of account that were destroyed there were about 500 worth of debts.

Mr Morriss last evening applied to be admitted into the police force, and to be sent in pursuit of the bushrangers; but the superintendent said he had not power to appoint him, but could accept him as a volunteer. He was advised to agree to this. It is certain that nothing could be better than to send him at once in charge of a party in pursuit of those who have reduced him from a condition of comfort to one of destitution. — Goulburn Herald 28th Dec.

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Spotlight: Morgan Again (19/12/1864)

Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 – 1954), Monday 19 December 1864, page 8

MORGAN AGAIN.

—◆—

(From the Albury Banner, December 14)

Last Sunday was another Morgan day in this district; and while our police are marrying and giving in marriage dancing, fighting, getting and bestowing broken heads over wedding festivities in town, and obtaining notoriety in our police court reports, the murderer and villain, Morgan rules rampant.

The following comes from a reliable correspondent at Kyamba. He says:

Tragic events in connection with bushranging follow each other in such rapid succession that no one will be surprised to hear that Morgan paid us a visit here last evening. At about twelve o’clock noon he made his appearance at the camp of Mr. Adams, road contractor, when he bailed up all his men, and, as a warning to the contractor for having no cash in hand for the supply of his wants, he set fire to the tents, thus ruthlessly destroying at least £16 or £20 worth of property. Five Chinamen having made their appearance, he caused them also to join the rest of the men and having ordered them to strip, with a view to searching their garments, they not understanding the command, and therefore apparently hesitating to put it in force, he shot one of them in the arm just below the shoulder joint. This man is now lying at the Kyamba Hotel in a precarious state, and the ball has not been extracted.

After all, the money found on them was trifling — one small gold piece and about 30s. in silver — which latter Morgan threw away from his chagrin, expecting to have obtained a larger sum. He remained at the camp till 5 p.m., having caused tea to be made and a damper prepared for him by the cook of the party. The position of the camp is above a mile north of the Kyamba Inn and everything, including the account-book of the contractor, was destroyed, He did not tie the men or secure them in any way, but kept them in such a position as rendered it impossible to have rushed him without incurring a further loss of life, otherwise the men were well disposed, and would, if opportunity had been given, most undoubtedly have made resistance. The only weapon in the place was a double barrelled gun, which was unloaded, but remarking that “he did not like double-barrel guns,” he expressed his intention of taking it away with him.

About one o’clock in the afternoon, Mr. Jones, another contractor, paid a visit to the camp (which was soon after it had been set on fire); he was likewise secured, besides a traveller and two or three other men residing in the neighbourhood, who came there on horseback. On leaving, he took these men with him, as also Mr. Jones, four in all, they being each mounted on horseback. He made them carry the gun with them, and took them by a circuitous route over the mountains to a small bridge on the Little Billabong, about eight miles south of Kyamba. Here he met two buggies, in one of which was Mr. and Mrs. Manson, on their way to Braidwood, and in the other were two young men travelling to the same destination.

These he immediately stopped, ordering them out of their buggies and because Mr. Manson seemed to hesitate, he threatened to shoot the whole of them on the spot. Having got them out, he pointed to the four other men standing where he had placed them in a rank close by, and spoke of them as belonging to his party. This effectually set aside all idea of resistance; and after having stripped Mr. Manson to his shirt and searched the pockets of the others, he succeeded in taking about £6 in all. They then asked his permission to proceed, but he said they must wait twenty minutes, as the mail was expected, and the buggies would be useful in stopping the passage of the coaches. The time having expired, however, and the mail not arriving, they were allowed to proceed.

It may be important to mention here that he conversed freely at the camp for some hours with the men, detailing his various exploits at great length, and dwelling particularly upon the murder of M’Ginnerty and Smyth, of which he made no attempt at concealment — Indeed he stated that he had watched Smyth’s party five days in order to make sure of the right man. Soon after Mr. Manson had escaped from his clutches, the mail to Albury arrived at the scene of action. The mailman had been previously warned, but did not consider it to be his duty to take any steps by way of special security. Being very light, he allowed it to pass after a merely formal examination; but shortly afterwards (and it was now nearly eleven o’clock), the Albury mail arrived, when he demanded of the driver to stop. This not being instantly complied with, he fired a shot at him to bring him to. He then made him get out and hold the horses’ heads, while he ransacked the mails. This inspection lasted a considerable time, in the course of which nearly if not the whole of the letters were opened, and though many cheques were found which he threw to one side as useless, it is supposed that he obtained but little booty in the shape of bank notes for he complained bitterly of the poverty of the mails. A box of pills and some photographs were disposed of with sovereign contempt.

Having accomplished this much, he is supposed to have visited Mr. Williams’s station, where it is said he impressed two men into his service, taking also a horse, saddle, and bridle. But the circumstances connected with this portion of the story have not yet been sufficiently authenticated. He took with him the gun obtained from Adams’s camp.

Perhaps, the worst feature in this affair is the destruction of the telegraph, two posts having been cut down by his order, and the wire severed, thus, as he supposed, stopping the communication; but, fortunately, the line to Albury being open, allows communication northwards by way of Deniliquin.

I omitted to state that in the course of the conversation, the bushranger spoke of three men whom he was determined to shoot before “retiring from business,” — namely, Mr. M’Kenzie, late of Mundarloo, identified with the capture of Peisley; Mr McLaurin, of Yarra Yarra and Sergeant Carroll. On these he expressed himself determined to be revenged; and with respect to the former, he declared that if he once had him in his power £5000 would not save his life. Otherwise he said there was “no good in bushranging,” and he felt inclined, after a time, to give it up.

You may implicitly rely upon the accuracy of all that has been related above; many other particulars could have been furnished, but they would probably only tend to pamper a morbid curiosity.

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