Spotlight: Inquest on William Drew and other news (18/10/1817)

Hobart Town Gazette and Southern Reporter (Tas. : 1816 – 1821), Saturday 18 October 1817, page 1


Sitting Magistrate – Reverend R. KNOPWOOD, A. M.

SHIP NEWS – On Tuesday arrived the ship Frederick, Capt. WILLIAMS, from Calcutta, via Bencoolen and Batavia, with a valuable cargo of merchandize, – Passengers, Mr. WINDER and Lieut. STEWART, who removed to the Pilot, and sailed the following day for Sydney. In this vessel arrives 7 male and 3 female prisoners, destined for Port Jackson.

On Wednesday sailed the ship Pilot, Captain PEXTON, for Port Jackson, having on board Colonel DAVEY, late Lieutenant Governor of the Colony, Mr. O’CONNOR, Lieut. STEWART, and Mr. WINDER. The following prisoners, lately committed to take their trial before the Criminal Court at Sydney, were sent up in this Vessel:- Collier, Hillier and Watts, the bushrangers; Clarke, Scott and two Crahans, for sheep stealing. A number of evidences on behalf of the Crown also went up in this vessel, amongst whom is Black Mary, a native of this Colony, who some time back was an active guide to the military parties in quest of the bush-rangers.

Remain in the harbour the ship Frederick, and the brigs Spring, Jupiter and Sophia.

On Tuesday Colonel DAVEY, our late Lieutenant Governor, embarked on board the ship Pilot, under a Salute of 13 guns from the Battery. He was accompanied to the Government Wharf by His Honor the Liuetenant Governor, and most of the Principal Officers and inhabitants of the Colony; and on leaving the shore, was greeted by the cheers of a numerous assemblage of spectators.

CORONER’S INQUEST.—An inquest was taken on Monday last at the County Gaol in this town, before A. W. H. HUMPHREY, Esq. Coroner, upon the body of William Drew, whose death we mentioned in our last.

The first evidence was Mr. Assistant Surgeon Hood, of the 46th regt., who deposed that the death of the deceased, William Drew, seemed to have been occasioned by a musket ball passing through the thorax, by entering the back a little below the right shoulder, and shattering the breast bone in its passage; he did not perceive any other injury about the body.

The next witness was Mr. W. Williams, who stated that the deceased was his servant, and employed in looking after his sheep in the vicinity of New Norfolk. It appeared by the testimony of this witness, that he left Hobart Town on the Wednesday prior to the death of the deceased on a visit to his flock; and that when he got to the First River, he found Drew in the hut there. The next morning, Mr. W. went to his grazing ground for some sheep, which he brought back and sheared himself; and on the following morning, soon after daylight, he sent Drew for some more to the same place. Drew being absent for upwards of 4 hours, witness became alarmed, and went to look for Drew; and when he arrived at the place where he had sent him, he walked about for nearly an hour before he found him, who was then running towards witness with a gun, and a dog; upon his coming up, Mr. W. asked him what was the matter, to which he replied, “George Watts was stopping with Howe, whilst he came to acquaint him of it,” and delivered his musket to Mr. W. saying “he did not want it as they had got Mich. Howe’s gun, and that Watts had one of his own.” During their conversation Drew shewed Mr. W. two knives, which he said he had taken from Howe; and upon Mr. W. asking him if he could be of any assistance, he replied “no, as Howe was secured;” he then ran away; Witness and the deceased had previously agreed to take Howe the first opportunity.

George Watts deposed, that after Mich. Howe had been to Drew, at William’s hut, with a letter for the Lieutenant Governor, about six weeks ago, he (Watts) went to Drew, and enquired of him whether he had seen Howe; he replied he had a or 3 times successively, and was again to see him on the Friday following at sunrise; he said should he come on Thursday or Friday, they could take him.

On the Thursday night Watts went to New Norfolk, took Triffit’s boat and proceeded across the river, and concealed himself along-side of a path, near the place Drew appointed to meet him, till daylight. About sunrise Drew came, and told him he was to meet Howe at a place called the Long Bottom, where William’s sheep were. Watts told Drew to leave his gun, as he thought Howe would not come up to them if he perceived it; Drew left it hidden; they then both proceeded to the place where they expected to meet Howe; upon arriving there, Drew called two or three times, which Howe answered, from the opposite side of the creek. When Watts came within ninety yards of Howe, he told him to knock the priming out of his gun, and he would do the same, which both parties did; they then went about 50 or 40 yards and began to light a fire. The first opportunity, Watts caught Howe by the collar and threw him down; Drew tied his hands, and took two knives from his pocket; Watts and Drew got breakfast, but Howe refused to eat; they then were about proceeding to town, when Drew proposed to take his master’s musket and dog back, which Watts agreed to, desiring him not to inform his master of any thing, which he promised. Upon Drew’s return, they all proceeded towards Hobart Town, Watts with his gun loaded walked before Howe and Drewe behind. When about about 8 miles on the road, Watts heard Drew scream and on turning round received a wound in his stomach from Howe; but how he got loose, he did not know, excepting by cutting the cord. Howe said, that “he would settle Drew’s business,” as he had by this time got possession of Watt’s musket; he immediately fired at Drew; Watts being amongst some wattles did not hear him speak or see him fall; he enquired if Drew was dead? Howe replied “yes,” and “he would shoot him as soon as he could load his piece.” Drew carried Howe’s musket previous to being shot, but it was not primed. Watts dreading being shot, ran about 200 yards, and lay down a few minutes from cold and loss of blood. Upon being able to walk, he made all haste to a hut belonging to James Burne, and on being put to bed he told Mrs. Burne that he was stabbed by Howe, and requested her husband to get Waddle the constable to take him to town; by the time Waddle arrived he was hardly able to speak; he only informed him of his name, and, when able to talk next morning, he told him Drew was shot. The testimony of the other witnesses merely relates to searching after, and finding the body of Drew, and conveying it to town.

The Jury, after a short deliberation, returned a verdict that the deceased, William Drew, was murdered by Michael Howe.


Mercury (Hobart, Tas. : 1860 – 1954), Thursday 27 November 1873, page 3



lllustrated by a Sketch of the Career of Michael Howe,” The last and worst of the Bushrangers.”

Written by J. E. CALDER.


Mr. Bent, having sketched Howe’s career with as much fidelity as such an unscrupulous writer was capable of, supplements it with several idle stories of murders that have no foundation in fact, which he lays at the door of the bushranger. One of these outrages, whoever done by, was committed on an island in the Straits, which Howe certainly never was at; another is made ridiculous by the excessive improbability of the circumstances which he says attended it; and the other he supposes Howe must have done, because he once told some one else, that it was committed by the natives. I believe they are all inventions of his own, or else rest on unsupported rumour only.

The Governor, though glad enough when he heard of the death of the last of the bushrangers, was, I have been told by several persons, greatly displeased at the mutilation of his corpse, for he thought it a barbarous and unnecessary act, though he says nothing about it in his despatches, nor does the name of Drummond occur in them anywhere; and this fellow might have saved himself the trouble of doing this savage act, for he got nothing by it. Sorell extols Howe’s destroyers to the skies. He paid fifty pounds of the hundred guinea reward to Pugh, forty to Worrell, and fifteen to Warburton. McGill also received a small gratuity. In a despatch of his that I have seen, he pleads hard for a pardon for McGill, for former bush services, which both he and Worrell received, and also asks to be allowed to purchase private Pugh’s discharge, promising to raise the necessary funds in the colony, “as a mark of grateful acknowledgment for the service rendered by Pugh.”

He might well be grateful for it, for we may suppose the six-year chase after Howe cost the Imperial and local Governments such a sum, as one is afraid to guess at, while the colony was ridded of by far the most dreaded robber who ever took the bush.

Howe was a powerfully made man, about five feet seven or eight inches high, neither bad nor good-looking, having deeply seated eyes, and a profusion of coarse hair. Mr. Frank Pitt describes him as being “a rough sailor-looking fellow,” and Mr. Patterson, who saw him when in gaol, says he was slightly pock-marked. The accounts that I have received of his ordinary bearing are more favourable than I should have expected.

The number of men who were at different times associated with Howe, since his second escape into the woods in 1815, was twenty; of whom twelve, including himself, came to a bad end, in consequence of that connection. Six others who surrendered themselves to the Government, but who were not guilty of murder, received very severe sentences for their evil deeds, to which one would have thought that death itself were preferable. Of the remaining two, I can discover nothing; but as both were old offenders, we may be sure they fined as hardly as the others.

It is not necessary to say more of Howe’s companions than what I have already done, excepting three of them, namely, Geary, Septon, and Collier, whose fate may be worth recording.

I have said before that James Geary was a deserter from a detachment of the 73rd Regiment, of which he was one of the bandsmen, and after joining Howe, he became one of the most active participators in the many crimes of that misguided man.

The history of brigandage furnishes no end of examples of men taking to that dreadful calling from disappointed love; and this was the case with this soldier. For, in so far as I can discover, the early bush career of this great offender, began in a passion that seems to have bordered on infatuation, for a female, who I believe was the daughter of a publican, living somewhere in the delightful neighbourhood of Cat and Fiddle Alley of this city of ours – this very fashionable quarter, deriving its name from the once notorious Inn kept by the father. The faithless syren persuaded the love-smitten soldier to desert from his regiment and follow her, but where to, I am uncertain; for all that I know of this ruinous alliance is, that it was quickly dissolved by her deserting him, and taking herself off to Launceston, where she made a more suitable, if not a happier match. In this state of wreck, the unhappy fellow drifted rapidly on to the shoals of ruin, a doomed and broken man. Having now neither friends nor means, and dreading the fearful consequences of surrendering himself to his officers, he took another fatal step in his headlong descent, by uniting his already desperate fortunes with those of the outlaw Howe.

After the surrender of the latter to Captain Nairn in 1817, Geary led the gang, as the most resolute and daring of them all. There was a time, Sorell says, when he wished to give up his dangerous way of life, but despairing of pardon (being an offender both against the civil and military law,) he abandoned the idea; and such was his influence over the rest of the gang, that he prevented them from laying down their arms, and giving in, as they all wished to do, being quite broken down by a life of privation and danger, and the unceasing pursuit of a host of enemies.

Lance Serjeant McCarthy and seven soldiers assisted by three volunteers, with Black Mary for their guide, tracked the gang to their retreat at old Joe Johnson’s hut at the Tea-tree Brush, on the 7th of July of 1817. Both sides tree’d themselves directly; but such was the downfall of rain then descending, that the guns of both sides, either hung fire, or else would not go off at all. A soldier named Sullivan was opposed to Geary, but some minutes passed before either made a hit. Geary got first chance, through the other slightly exposing his head, and he fired. His aim was good but not quite true, the ball striking the tree quite close to it, and sending a shower of bark fragments into his face. “That’s not a bad shot,” said Geary cooly, when he saw that he had missed his man, “but the next shall be better,” and he proceeded to reload; but by this time the rain had so damped and fouled the touch-hole of his piece, that it was necessary to clear it out, and he raised his leg for a rest whilst he dried it, projecting it a little beyond the tree and thus giving away a chance. Sullivan then fired, the ball taking fatal effect, by passing completely through his thigh. His companion Jones was shot dead by another soldier nearly at the same moment. McCarthy’s people then ran in, and took either one or two others. The rest, seven or eight, then made off. Geary’s wound was mortal, and he died in about twenty minutes, bravadoing till all was over.

He bled very freely; still an effort, Mr. Beamont tells me, was, made to stop the hemorrhage, which he submitted to, cooly taking out his fife (he was a fifer of the band) and playing it during all the operation; but directly it was finished, he tore off the bandages himself, and bled to death almost directly.

Peter Septon, another old soldier then led, but some quarrel occurring amongst them, a separation took place, and he and Collier removed to the Launceston side of the island, where they were joined by several recruits, one of whom was named Hillier.

They were stationed at a place called in those days Gordon’s Plains, which were on the South Esk, somewhere between Evandale and the princely domain of Clarendon. Here another quarrel and split-up took place, and Septon, Collier and Hillier remained alone together.

On the 28th of July, they slept at a hut close to Gordon’s Plains. Hillier had no love for either of them, nor for any one else, and resolved to destroy both, for the substantial reward of eighty guineas, the price that was put on the head of either of them.

When his victims were sleeping, he rose up stealthily, and having first secured their pieces, he proceeded to assault them, and Septon spoke no more.

Collier waking at the instant, at the struggles of the dying man, sprang from his wretched couch, and made for the door, the murderer pursuing and wounding him as he escaped, but not badly, and he then ran for it. Hillier seeing that he was eluding him, snatched up a gun, and firing, shattered one of his hands, nearly to pieces; but he ran still, and finally got away. The fugitive then made his way to Launceston, and surrendered to the Commandant.

Collier was sent up to Sydney for trial, and was convicted on the evidence of Howe’s paramour, Black Mary, of participation in the deaths of Carlisle and O’Birne, and was sentenced to die. He was then returned to Hobart Town, according to the practice of the times for execution. It is reported that he acknowledged his sentence to be a just one, and died as best became him–a repentant man.

“Nothing in his life,

Became him like the leaving it.”

Soon after the surrender of Collier, Hillier also fell into Sorell’s hands, but who gave him a very different reward from the one he expected, namely, a passage to Sydney, a fair trial for he crimes and a well-deserved death.

With the close of the events just described, the cloud that had so long darkened the social atmosphere of Tasmania drifted away, and which nothing but the operation of laws, too rashly and often too cruelly carried out afterwards more, as I believe, to produce a salutary effect elsewhere than here–sent back upon us again. But let none refuse honour to the man by whose energy the evil was first subdued. Like the rest of us, he was not faultless, that is, if judged by the hypermetrical standard of over-exact moralists, which so few of us would care to be tested by. But we may well forget the few errors of his life in the recollection of the good he performed whilst amongst us. But in this world of ours we are never too forgiving, and as Shakespeare has it,

The evil that men do, lives after them,

The good is oft interred with their bones.

14th November, 1873.


BLACK MARY. – There is an incident connected with Howe’s life that requires some notice. His biographer, Bent, accuses him of having once tried to destroy his paramour, for no other reason but her inability to keep pace with him when flying from the military. He says that in April of 1817, “Howe and the native girl were pursued in the neighbourhood of Jericho, by a small party of the 40th regiment. His wantonly cruel disposition was strongly manifested on this occasion, for, being hard pressed, in order to facilitate his own escape, he fired at this poor female companion, who from fatigue was unable to keep pace with him. She, however, received little injury, and, together with his blunderbuss, knapsack, and dogs, fell into the hands of the pursuers.” She was taken by a soldier named Sullivan.

But “the father of the Tasmanian press,” as Bent was wont to style himself, was neither a scrupulous nor a very reflecting writer; and it does not seem to have occurred to him, that the shot was most probably directed at the soldier as he was laying hands on his companion; and that his intention in firing may have been to save, and not to destroy her.


I have said before, that the conduct of this officer when Commandant of Launceston, was most unruly; and he exhibited such turbulence, disobedience of nearly every order, and insubordination, is almost to deserve the name of mutiny. It was the practice of the time to give to officers in his station, but by courtesy only, almost exactly the same title, as that by which the chief local authority was addressed, namely, his Honor, the Lieutenant-Governor of Launceston. They were indeed entitled to this designation at one time, that is, when Tasmania was divided into two separate Governments, but not after this partition of territory ceased in 1812; and this seems to have been translated by Major Stewart (and I fear by at least one of his successors) as entitling him to independent command; and he yielded either a most unwilling obedience to Sorell, or more often none at all; sometimes even acting in open defiance of him, and embarrassing him to the uttermost at all times. Several of Colonel Sorell’s Despatches to his superior at Sydney, describe his demeanour as highly disorderly; and nothing but the very peculiar circumstances of the colony, prevented both Governors sending him to a Court Martial. He defied the magistracy as well as the Governor; and at one time prevented them from taking any proceedings against the lawbreaking classes of the country, by actually carrying off, says Sorell, “the Record Books of the Bench of Magistrates, declaring his resolution to retain them by force;” and he “ruined the public buildings, gardens and barracks at Launceston.” The barracks and fences, he pulled down unauthorisedly, and burnt them all.

The discipline, or rather the indiscipline, that he maintained amongst his men, was something outrageous (often punishing them without any trial whatever), till they became so disorganised as to be a public nuisance, and they committed many outrages, and more than one murder.

Of the many instances that are recorded of this officer’s refractoriness, there is one very flagrant one detailed in a Despatch dated 8th August, 1818. I have before introduced the name of Ensign Mahon, as the destroyer of two of Howe’s gang, one of whom, Elliott, he brought down himself. This young officer, seems to have been a most active and determined man, and always a ready volunteer to go after either bushrangers or natives, and generally with success. Some boats had been taken from Hobart Town by runaways, and were followed by Mr. Mahon to the Tamar, Major Stewart being forewarned by a letter from the Lieutenant Governor of Mahon’s enterprise. The latter on reaching George Town, met the Major there, to whom he exhibited his instructions, whereupon Stewart at once took steps to frustrate Mahon’s mission, by seizing and placing him in confinement, or as Sorell says, “he arrested Ensign Mahon, and prevented him by military force from proceeding.” He concludes his report of this outrage in these words: “A more glaring instance of contempt for the good of the service, for the advantage of the settlement, and the maintenance of Law and order, by the supression of enduring Banditti, perhaps was never exhibited; and when to that may be added the direct defiance of authority of his immediate superior, I cannot doubt that this charge would have been of most serious import to Major Stewart, had it been before a General Court Martial,” &c

If it be true as Addison says that every tale has its moral, then assuredly the sketches I have given of the bush careers of Howe and Brady, will not have been written in vain. The examples furnished by the lives of these men, and their many companions in crime and misfortune, may teach us the folly of attempting to coerce the criminal classes into the ways of virtue by any such severity of punishment, as was much too often inflicted here, in times happily past, that were generally quite incommensurate with the nature of the offences that first led the most of them into the more vicious courses, that conducted them progressively to the chain-gang or scaffold. Not only the examples, with which we were once too familiar here, but the experience, of all past time, assure us that men tire neither to be deterred from evil practices, or driven, so to speak, to virtue by barbarous retaliatory inflictions, whose tendency is to deprave in ten cases, where they amend or even intimidate in one; and should be a lesson to us for ever to avoid an evil, which has so small an admixture of good. Moral improvement by legal penalties, is only to be achieved by such inflictions as leave the offender no reason to believe that he has been too hardly dealt with; and whenever this limit is exceeded, the almost certain effect is the reproduction of offence. Even military critics, who are not always trained in schools where much moderation is practised, have not been wanting to declaim against the operation of military laws, as practised in our own armies, even in very recent times, the inevitable result of which was to deaden self respect by degrading the sufferer; and the soldier who had once undergone the indignity of corporal punishment, was ever after a worthless fellow. Even brigandage itself has seldom been wholly repressed by military violence, of which the history of the first Napoleon furnishes more than one instance. He with all his power, failed to eradicate it from either Spain or Calabria, even by the persistent exercise of such vigour as his merciless agents, General Manhes* and others opposed to it in the last named country, who left their despairing victims no hope of life but in resistance. The experience of the present age seems to be, that when milder systems of punishment are used than prevailed formerly, that crime keeping pace with mercy, has much diminished, or so at least I have read; though even now, as it seems to me, some offences such as horse and sheep stealing, by which few men are very often seriously injured, are still dealt with too mercilessly, that is by such long periods of imprisonment, that the criminal grows old before his sentence expires, when a recommencement of life by any other means than renewing old practices, is no longer possible. Hence he returns to liberty, neither amended, nor even intimidated by his punishment.

That there are in the category of crime, some offences for which death is none too severe, may be believed. But we are now beginning to understand, that all lesser ones, are more certain of abatement by moderation in our penal practice, than by pushing chastisement too nearly to the limit of endurance, by which latter the ends for which Justice is instituted, are more commonly defeated than reached.

*MacFarlane, in his account of the suppression of brigandage in Calabria thus describes some of the cruelties of this old soldier when serving under Murat. “In the French General Manhes, Joachim Murat found the very man to superintend or direct these massacres en masse, and the Calabrians the most ruthless enemy that had ever been let loose on them . . . . . . it remains undisputed and has even been admitted by those who served under him or with him, that Manhes, was a cruel, pitiless man to the Calabrians, the people of the Abruzzi, &c. and acted up to a system of blood, without once relenting. No mercy was ever extended to the outlaws who fell into his hands. Villages, whole towns, through which the inhabitants had allowed the brigands a passage, felt his tremendous vengeance. Any peasant, without distinction of sex or age, who was found, going out to labour in the country, with more than a small flask of wine and a morsel of bread calculated to be just sufficient to support life for one day, was taken and shot; for Manhes, having made pretty sure of the towns and villages, whence the brigands could no longer supply themselves, thought if he could prevent the peasantry from smuggling out provisions to them, that they must either surrender themselves, or die of want in the mountain fastnesses, such to which he had driven them. ….”By unusual novelity like this, Manhes boasted he had put down brigandage in Calabria. The boast was partly made out by fact,” &c.

Spotlight: Death of “Black” Mary Cockerill

Hobart Town Gazette and Southern Reporter (Tas. : 1816 – 1821), Saturday 3 July 1819, page 1

On Tuesday died in the Colonial Hospital, the native woman usually called Black Mary, particularly known as having been at one time the partner of Michael Howe, and subsequently a guide to the parties of troops which were   employed successfully in subduing the gang of bush-rangers; in which her knowledge of the country and of their haunts, and especially her instinctive quickness in tracking foot-steps, rendered her a main instrument of the success which attended their exertions. She had been victualled from His Majesty’s Store, and had received other indulgences in clothing, &c.; but a complication of disorders, which had been long gaining ground upon her, terminating at last in pulmonic affection, put an end to her life.

Mary Cockerill is a somewhat enigmatic figure. Most people know her as Michael Howe’s paramour, the Aboriginal girl he impregnated then shot to create a distraction and bring about his escape. The reality is far different. There is very little that we do know about her, and most of that demonstrates that what is generally accepted as the truth is little more than a fanciful romance.

What we can say about her, definitively, is that she was one of two Aboriginal girls that were members of Michael Howe’s gang, the other’s name having been long lost to the sands of time. She was with the gang when they were engaged in a gunfight by Dennis McCarty and his men, and was noted by witnesses on other occasions as well but only insofar as her presence was notable. Her capture came when she and Michael Howe were ambushed by a detachment of soldiers, during which it was perceived that Howe shot at her before ditching his gear and bolting. Mary then directed the soldiers to one of the camps the gang used, where Howe and two of his gang were spotted, though they easily evaded capture.

Mary was kept on by the government as a tracker, and she was employed in trying to capture the banditti that had once been her colleagues. Eventually she accompanied a group of officials on a ship bound for Port Jackson that was transporting some of Howe’s gang members for trial, (in those days capital offences were tried in New South Wales, even if the crimes were not from that colony). She was given clothes and food from the commissariat store in Hobart and generally treated well. Her death seems to have been from either a chronic heart ailment or something very sudden.

Claims that Mary was pregnant cannot be backed up by contemporary records, and the notion that she was Howe’s lover may be misconstrued from the description of her having “co-habited” with him, which could simply mean they lived together. Indeed, the only thing that suggests that there was anything more to their relationship than being colleagues is the fact they were alone together when ambushed, which is a fairly long bow to draw from such a limited amount of information.

My Story: Georgina Stones and Michael Howe

On this cold and wet Tasmanian afternoon, as I sit at my desk listening to the inescapable rasping call of a native hen, my mind begins pondering the question posed to me for the writing of this essay; ‘Has Michael Howe been mispresented?’ (No, do not rub your eyes or adjust your screen brightness, you read those words correctly.) I understand this may seem odd to some and perhaps hardly worth touching upon, let alone worthwhile reading. After all the man was a violent psychopath, he set fire to half of Van Diemen’s Land and left a wake of destruction wherever he trod. The history books and newspaper reports tell us so, do they not? In fact, according to Thomas Wells, Michael was a man who committed crimes “with the coolest indifference” and was “never known to perform one humane act.” Surely there is no way such strong declarations could possibly be wrong? Surely the records were properly scoured before such judgments were cast? Or were they? Firstly, I must begin by admitting that this is a question I never believed I would be answering, let alone examining in such detail. In fact, if asked for my thoughts on the subject of Michael’s misrepresentation several months ago, I would have shaken my head and given the reply of most Tasmanians: “What is there to misrepresent?” At that time, I could not have contemplated the degree to which Michael’s character has been cruelly defaced by the scrawls of ignorance and just how much his memory has become blackened. Over the past month, however, I have found myself completely drawn to this “rough sailor-looking fellow”, with his “profusion of coarse hair” and “deep set eyes”, who had a fondness for gardening, knitting and reading. Which in turn has led me to dedicate my free time to pouring over witness statements, government dispatches, newspaper articles and history books. This obsessive search to better understand Michael, led me to discover that the Michael Howe who has long been presented has almost no semblance to reality. In fact, much of what has been written about his actions completely contradict those detailed within primary source documents, with some events entirely omitted from both posthumous reports and those written during his lifetime. This discovery quickly awakened my bloodhound-like tenacity and in turn has sparked a serious yearning to tell Michael’s story and to redeem the character of this Yorkshireman, who himself expressed regret at feeling “greatly injured by the country at large.”

For some, the simple mention of the name ‘Michael Howe’, or as he himself pronounced it in his Yorkshire accent, ‘Mick’l’, is enough to cause a shudder. Which as it happens, was the exact reaction given by my father when he found out I had become interested in this “demon bushranger”. Eyeing the illustrations Aidan had done of Michael he asserted, “He was bad man, Georgina. You better not be trying to make him out to be someone he wasn’t,” and as I listened, tight-lipped, I knew there had to have been more to this man than what is commonly told. Which, as it so happens, is exactly the case and my wish to remove the black cloak from Michael shoulders has led to me to uncover details about his character which has brought me a strong sense of pride. I believe the lack of understanding and compassion given to Michael is tremendously sad, and even while alive the want of these things seems to have been something he longed for. According to James Calder (a 19th century writer and researcher who is quickly becoming my idol), after Michael’s surrender to Captain Nairn, “he was visited by the Chief Superintendent of Convicts, Mr. Paterson, to whose charge he had been consigned when he first landed here, and who had shown him kindness. This gentleman once more uttered a few fatherly words to him. Howe had been so long a stranger to civil words, that he warmly expressed his thanks for the slight attention now shown to him, saying he had often thought of the old superintendent with kindly feelings.” It can also be argued that this want of kindness, or remembering those that had showed it to him, was why he specifically wrote about his sister Mary in both his journal and the gardening book he took from Mr. Pitt. Like his journal of dreams, this book was held together with kangaroo skin, which Michael had sewn “very neatly with sinews”. Owing to him being a great lover of gardening, Michael had “so studied it, as to have thumbed its covers off”, and on the flyleaf of the book recorded Mary’s birthday, in conjunction with the number of years they had been “parted”. It is moving to think of Michael, alone in his hut on the upper Shannon River, remembering his life back in Pontefract and the sister who loved him.

Another reality at odds with the known narrative is the way in which Michael treated the men and women he stuck up, which is a point highlighted by witness statements and Calder who asserts, “none of these pillagings were attended with personal violence of any kind…Howe disliked unnecessary violence, and though he sometimes threatened it, using hard words and black looks, he never would permit it except in self-defence, or when, according to his style of thinking, he believed his victims deserved it.” One such example is seen at Governor Davey’s residence at Coal River, near Richmond, which Michael and his gang robbed on the evening of the 8th of September 1816. Not wishing to alarm the wife of Mr. Peachey the overseer, Michael instructed the man to wake up his wife and allow her to dress before he entered. Once he had scoured the room of what he “stood in need of”, Michael informed Mr. Peachey of the items he had taken, adding he had “not touched his wearing apparel.” It was also noted by the overseer that before leaving, Michael asked for his dictionary, promising to return it when the book had served its purpose. An item which would no doubt have served ‘the lieutenant-governor of the woods’ well in his communications with ‘the lieutenant-governor of the town.’

This habit of only taking the necessities is seen throughout many of the robberies Michael was in command of and differs greatly from the belief that he and his gang ransacked these premises with the zeal of a Roman legion. For the most part, green tea (black tea was bitter and undesired by the settlers), flour, sugar, ammunition, weaponry, clothing, blankets, needles and thread, and meat, were the necessities taken. The only occasion these acts differed was on the 10th of May 1815, while raiding the house of Mr. Adolarius William Henry Humphrey, a police magistrate who was known for abusing convicts. Humphrey and his wife were not at their Pitt Water (Sorrell) home when Michael broke open their front door with an axe, which was fortunate for the magistrate as Michael and his gang had expressed their desire to murder the unkindly man in order to “prevent him ever flogging another man” or “serving out slop” to convicts. Once inside the house, the gang began searching the premises for necessities which on this occasion also included Humphrey’s compass; an item Michael would come to show Thomas Seals the following year.  While he and two other members of his gang, James Geary and Richard McGwyre were filling their knapsacks, Michael came upon two pairs of leg irons, with the discovery sending his blood cold. Fetching the remainder of his gang from the servant hut, they proceeded to smash everything left in the house, knowing all too well the weight of irons clasped at their ankles.  Before leaving, Michael relayed to one of the servants that they would have left quietly if it weren’t for finding the leg irons. Further to this, the gunfight between Irishman Dennis McCarty and the gang on the 24th of April 1815 is another event which has seen key details omitted from newspaper and posthumous accounts. Unlike what is often presented, Michael did not surprise McCarty with a barrage of musket fire, but rather it was McCarty who opened fire upon the unsuspecting gang while they rested beneath trees on the banks of the Derwent River near New Norfolk. In response to this attack, the gang, excepting Michael and James Geary, left their weapons and ran a little up the hill, which led to McCarty defiantly shouting, “now you dogs, if you are men, face us like men!” Adhering to this order, the remaining members of the gang, including Mary Cockerill, retrieved their arms and the firing commenced. With the wounding of five of McCarty’s men, Carlisle, Murphy, O’Burne, Triffett and Jemott, one of the gang, most likely Michael, demanded a cease fire with the wild call, “McCarty, stop, you scoundrel, it is you we want, or we will blow your brains out!”

Such acts of violence were few and far between and the gathering of weapons from settlers, it should be remembered, was vital if Michael and the gang were to stand a chance against soldiers, with them believing there were “two or three parties of soldiers out” at the time of the fight with McCarty. Furthermore, the burning of haystacks and barns, like those carried out on the wheat and corn harvests of Bartholomew Reardon and Humphrey, were not overseen by Michael and it is unclear whether he was even aware of their undertaking until afterwards. Instead, these were the actions of George Watts, Thomas Garland and James Whitehead (not John). In my research, I have discovered that many of the acts attributed to Michael, which are often used to further demonise him, were undertaken by others and often times are quite fanciful in their diversion of fact, with the known narrative’s description of the burning of wheat stacks and gunfight with McCarty clear cases of this. I feel I must also point that Watts and Garland’s act of wanton destruction was too much for James and he left the pair shortly after, declaring to a servant that he did not feel safe among them. For me, James’ comment about not trusting Watts and Garland, brings into question why James continued to stand by Michael if he was as cruel and unhinged as he is portrayed. How could he have trusted his life with ‘the wild beast of the ranges’? By all accounts, James had a strong moral compass and like Michael, treated the men and women within his company with respect. On one occasion, a servant by the name of George Green expressed his regret at seeing James in such a situation, with James replying he was sorry to find himself in the situation also, adding it never would have been the case if not for the treatment of his previous master.

Another gang member who was known to show respect was Peter Septon, who, like Michael, had served time in the British army. While travelling close to Launceston, accompanied by George Jones and John Brown, the trio met a gentleman in the company of two ladies. Fearful of their whereabouts reaching the ears of soldiers, the gang took them to a farm house, where it was stated the “outlaws behaved in the most becoming manner, having refused to take any refreshment till the ladies had done; and even led their horses the next day over the difficult part of the New River.” In conjunction with this action, upon seeing a servant of Governor Davey’s by the name of Lucas was unwell, Peter mixed the man up a concoction of milk and wine, while Michael made himself a tankard of eggnog. Such actions, for which I have only mentioned a few, are omitted from nearly all the tellings of Michael’s life, but of course, you never let the truth get in the way of a good story, do you?

While the known narrative may portray Michael as a paranoid and unhinged leader, this could not be further from the truth. By all accounts, he kept the gang in orderly control and no man or woman were ever molested or left fearing for their life by his actions. In fact, as I have come to find, there is a stark difference in the way the gang conducted themselves when Michael was leading them as opposed to when he was not at the helm. The first example of this is in October 1814, when while robbing McCarty’s house John Mills repeatedly threatened to “fuck” Mrs. McCarty, who he deemed to be a “whore”. It should be noted that Mills was a man who Michael noted to a solider he would only have freed from Launceston “if he was worth the risk.” The other example is seen in the second robbing of Lieutenant-Governor Davey’s house, when George Jones, visibly drunk, made the servants drink rum, threatening them if they did not partake of spirit. Such actions, along with a list of others, are often laid at Michael’s feet but this is simply ignorant of the facts and nowhere better are his beliefs described then by Thomas Seals, who had been told, “if I would be a friend to them, they would reward me well […] for they were fully determined to be like Turpin, to rob from the rich and give to the poor.”

In concluding this essay, I wish to point out the lack of inclusion about Mary Cockerill is due to truth differing greatly from the narrative. There was no baby, there was no incredible love story (highlighted by her own actions), and he certainly did not shoot her for falling behind. Just how Mary and the other unnamed Aboriginal woman came to be with the gang is unclear, but it is likely they left abuse and slavery just as Michael and the others had done. They would have proved invaluable in reading tracks and keeping them away from aboriginal tribes, which proved near fatal to Michael while alone, as recorded in his journal.

By no means is this an exhaustive list of the wrong-doings done to Michael’s character over the last 200 years and nor does it include an explanation for every event and action in his 31 years of life, for such pieces are still to be written. However, what I hope this essay does do is convey the truth of who Michael Howe was and to bring forward details which have long remained in the shadows.


Historical Records of Australia, Series 3, Volume 2.

Historical Records of Australia, Series 3, Volume 3.

‘Michael Howe: The Last and Worst of the Bushrangers of Van Diemen’s Land’, by T.E. Wells.

‘Tasmanian History: Early Troubles of the Colonists’, by J. E. Calder.

‘Governor of the Ranges: Mike Howe, Wild Beast of Tasmania’, by Bernard Cronin and Arthur Russel.

‘History of Australian Bushranging’, Volume 1, by Charles White.

Baptism record of Mary Howe located on and comes from the parish of Pontefract, St Giles.

Source for correct name of James Whitehead comes from witness statements (Historical Records of Australia), his prison record ( and his death record (Tasmanian Convict Registry).  

Bushranging: A Man’s World? 

Without doubt the world of bushrangers is dominated by men. However there are three notable female bushrangers who more than hold their own with their male counterparts. Here are the three lady bushrangers of note who stand toe to toe with the best of them.

“Black Mary” Cockerill

The first notable female bushranger is a companion of the infamous Michael Howe, an Aboriginal woman known as “Black Mary”. Previous little has actually been recorded about Mary, so much of what is available is often misreported, based entirely on unverified oral tradition or pure fiction.

Some accounts state that Mary was raised by a family of white settlers and was lured away to a life of adventure and banditry by Howe, while others state that Mary was one of several Aboriginal women kidnapped by the gang of bushrangers Howe was a leading member of during a violent raid that helped kick-start racial conflict in Van Diemens Land. Neither of these accounts are based in recorded evidence. Mary was first recorded as accompanying Howe’s gang in a raid on the property of Dennis McCarty in April 1815 and was frequently spotted with them thereafter as they raided the farms of prominent men in New Norfolk. Mary was not the only Aboriginal woman in the gang, but was the only one whose name was ever published.

As time went on and events escalated, Howe’s gang began to split up. There have been many inaccurate accounts of Mary’s relationship with Howe from this time, all of which seem to have taken a reference to her having once been his partner as an indication they were lovers. In fact, Mary’s role in the gang was more than likely to act as a scout and keep the gang away from Aboriginal tribes while they were moving through the bush. Claims that Mary became pregnant, again, are not based in fact but in fanciful, posthumous retellings.

Mary’s time with the gang came to an abrupt close when she and Michael were ambushed near the Shannon River. As they were attempting to outrun the soldiers, Howe fired back at them. Reports vary as to whether the shot actually hit Mary, let alone whether the hit was accidental or an act of desperation as she was slowing him down. Michael dumped his weapon and knapsack and took off into the bushes, leaving Mary behind. It is possible that Mary struggled to keep up because of a heart condition. Nevertheless she was captured by the soldiers and interrogated.

Though it is assumed that Mary was tortured, reports indicate that she was actually plied with new clothes and food in order to butter her up and encourage her assistance. This seemed to work and she agreed to help the military locate Howe and his bushranger colleagues. She led them to a spot where she knew the gang hid out, and the soldiers spotted Howe with two of his mates, who immediately gestured insultingly at them before vanishing into the bush. Mary continued to assist the government thereafter, working as a tracker.

Folklore suggests it was Mary who lured Howe to his doom in 1818, however this is yet another fabrication. Howe was lured into a trap, stabbed in the back then clubbed to death and decapitated for the reward on his head. Mary died in the Colonial Hospital in July 1819 of pulmonic affliction.

Mary as portrayed by Rarriwuy Hick in “The Outlaw Michael Howe”

Mary Ann Bugg

Mary Ann Bugg was a half-Aboriginal woman who was born in the 1834 in an outstation of the Australian Agricultural Company. Well educated for her class and time, Mary Ann married an ex-convict named Baker but remarried in 1851 to a man named John Burrows to whom she had two sons. By 1855 she was with a new fella, another ex-convict named James McNally. The couple had three children: Mary Jane, Patrick William and Ellen. She would soon achieve infamy as the female accomplice of Frederick Wordsworth Ward aka Captain Thunderbolt. In love with the romance of their lifestyle as much as Ward himself, Mary Ann referred to herself as The Captain’s Lady.

Fred Ward met Mary Ann while out of prison on a ticket of leave. Mary Ann was already married at the time but that could not stop the two from having a passionate affair. As a result Mary Ann became pregnant and Fred Ward decided to take her to her family home in Dungog for the birth. That was all well and good in theory but in doing so Ward left the district prescribed in his ticket of leave and returned three days late for the muster. The direct result of this was Ward being thrown back into Gaol on Cockatoo Island. Mary Ann was independent enough not to require assistance from Ward, but her love was too strong. Some have claimed that Mary Ann assisted Ward in his escape from Cockatoo Island, however she was already accounted for at that time and could not have been there. Ward made his way back to his beloved Mary Ann and it wasn’t long before the two started living like Bonnie and Clyde, travelling together and committing crime.

Mary Ann was nothing short of astounding in her resourcefulness and determination. Whether hiking over mountains with children on her back or catching cattle to feed the family, Mary Ann was irrepressible. Frequently dressed in men’s clothes, Mary Ann was a spectacular horsewoman. Her preferred method of catching cattle was using a tool of her own design which was effectively a butcher’s knife on a broom handle. She would ride up to the beast of choice and using her tool would cut its hamstring whereupon she could slaughter it. This practice brought her unwanted attention and she was often nabbed in an attempt to get at Thunderbolt. Twice she was arrested and tried for vagrancy but she never gave in. On one occasion Mary Ann managed to give the police the slip by feigning labour and was rescued by Thunderbolt and his gang.

Eventually, the pair separated during Mary Ann’s final pregnancy to Ward. No doubt Mary Ann had grown tired of enabling her husband to lead a lawless life and wanted to concentrate on raising her children, three of whom were to Ward – Marina Emily, Eliza and Frederick Wordsworth Ward jr. While the details of the split are unknown, the fact that Mary Ann named her third child to Ward after his father is telling of where her heart still resided. Mary Ann settled down once more with John Burrows and spent the rest of her days leading a quiet life. In total she had had fifteen children and in her later life working as a nurse before dying in 1905 of senile decay.

Mary Ann Bugg; The Captain’s lady

Jessie Hickman

Jessie Hickman was born Elizabeth Jessie Hunt at Burraga, New South Wales on September 9, 1890. She grew up learning bush craft, horse riding and survival skills. By the age of fifteen she had become a successful roughrider and entertainer, touring the country with Martin Breheney aka Martini. Her time with Martini was successful and she became an unofficial rough riding champion in 1906. She fell in love with a man called Benjamin Hickman and they had a son together who they gave away to another couple to raise. Jessie ended up in Long Bay Gaol in 1913 after taking to stealing stock and clothing. She was imprisoned using her mother’s maiden name, McIntyre, rather than her birth name. She married Ben Hickman in 1920 but it was a tumultuous relationship that ended when he found work in the city and Jessie refused to leave the bush.

After she was separated from her husband, Jessie headed to the Blue Mountains. Her brother lived in Rylstone and she stayed with him for a time but soon went bush. Setting up a camp in the Nullo Mountains, she furnished a cave with a bed and shelving to make it more habitable, an idea that never struck the male bushrangers in the 100+ years of bushranging prior. From here Jessie Hickman engaged in cattle duffing with her gang of men she called the “Young Bucks”, stealing the animals from local farmers that she would graze and water in the lowlands near her hideout then taking the stolen cattle to markets in Singleton and Muswellbrook. Eventually able to purchase land in Emu Creek, she was still wanted by police and on multiple occasions performed daring escapes when approached by lawmen.

In May 1928, Jessie was arrested at Emu Creek on cattle theft charges but was acquitted at Mudgee on a lack of evidence. Settling down on her Emu Creek property, she took ill with head pains. Eventually being moved from Muswellbrook to Newcastle Mental Hospital, Hickman died of a brain tumour on September 15, 1936 and buried in a pauper’s grave in Sandgate Cemetery. She was forty six years old.

Jessie Hickman’s prison record

Selected sources:

Spotlight: The Wanton Callousness of Black Michael by J. H. M. Abbott

In the month of March, 1819, the first book published in Van Diemen’s Land was issued by Andrew Bent, editor and proprietor of ‘The Hobart Town Gazette,’ under the very hopeful and optimistic — but altogether futile — title of Michael Howe, the Last and Worst of the Bushrangers of Van Diemen’s Land.’ It’s price was 5/-, and the first edition sold out by the middle of the year. Another was issued in July at 2/6, and of the two of them there survives but a single copy, which is in the British Museum.

BUT the original MS., or a copy of it, came to light in Tasmania in 1925. About the same time as the latter date there came into the hands of the present writer, through a descendant of the author, the original MS. of another account of the outlaw, entitled, also, ‘Michael Howe, the Last and Worst of the Bushrangers of Van Diemen’s’ Land,’ which is dated ‘Hobart Town, December, 1818.’

It was written by Thomas E. Wells, and had never before seen the light of print until it was sold on behalf of the author to Angus and Robertson, Ltd, of Sydney, who produced an edition of 100 copies in 1926. T. E. Wells was a sort of secretary for a time in the office of Lieutenant Colonel Sorell. who succeeded Colonel Davey as Lieutenant-Governor of Van Diemen’s Land, and ruled the island for seven years, between 1817 and 1824.


Neither side showed a spark of mercy. It was a war that lacked both the giving of quarter to defeated opponents and the very elements of decency.
Michael Howe was born at Pontefract in Yorkshire, in 1787, and was bound as an apprentice to a merchant ship at Hull when a youngster in his ‘teens. He only served two years before he ran away from his ship and joined the Royal Navy.
When he was 24, in 1811, he was arrested for highway robbery, and put upon trial for his life at the York Assizes in the same year. An error in the indictment allowed him to escape the capital penalty, and he was sentenced to transportation for seven years.
Aboard the transport Indefatigable, he arrived in the Derwent in October, 1812, and was assigned to a settler, but soon absconded from his assigned service and joined the gang of bushrangers under John Whitehead, which had been plundering the country for more than two years.
His advent brought their number up to 29, and they must have been as sweet a crew of pirates as ever cut a throat or set fire to a house.

Then came Macquarie’s amnesty, by which his Excellency “was pleased to extend to them the Royal clemency for all offences committed during their unlawful absence (the crime of wilful murder excepted); provided they should return to their lawful occupations by the first day of December following; denouncing all who should neglect to do so as outlaws.”

The robbers betook themselves to Hobart Town and promised to be good boys in the future.
The proclamation had been made in May, 1814 — by the following August Whitehead and Howe, together with most of their following, were back on the warpath. They looted and robbed, carrying off provisions and taking all the arms and ammunition they could lay their hands upon.
In the middle of 1815 Whitehead was killed during the attack on Mr. McCarty’s farm, when they were warmly received by a detachment of the 46th Regiment.
Whilst Colonel Davey’s proclamation of martial law — afterwards disowned by Macquarie— was in force, a party of soldiers who were looking for what Mr. Wells generally alludes to as “the Banditti,” with a capital B, came across their hiding-place in a dense tea-tree’ scrub.

Close by a primitive sort of hut were two of the bushrangers named McGuire and Burne, who immediately took to the scrub and were no more seen. Inside the hut were found many articles which had been stolen from the raided farms, besides a goodly store of ammunition, muskets, and two or three kangaroo dogs.

Messrs. Burne and McGuire had no luck. They were separated from the rest of Howe’s gang, and, after wandering several days in the woods they applied to a settler near Kangaroo Point to procure them a boat for the purpose of proceeding to Bass’s Straits; for which service they promised the reward of a watch.


“The settler pretended to come into their views, and left them with, the assurance of going in search of the boat; but he privately repaired to Hobart Town and informed the Lieut. Governor of their intentions.
“A party of the 46th Regt. was immediately dispatched, who surrounded the place of their concealment and captured both. Burne was the most aired of the gang, and was severely wounded in endeavoring to escape from the party.
“They were brought before a General Court-martial, charged with being two of the ‘Banditti’ who murdered the unfortunate Carlisle, were convicted and received sentence of death. They were accordingly executed and their bodies gibbeted on Hunter’s Island, near to that of Whitehead, their leader, when that murder was committed.”
The gang was now reduced to Howe, Septon, Jones, Geary and Collier, and were continually chased and harried until they were in such a condition as to be quite unable to carry on their side of the war.

One of them having been taken prisoner turned King’s evidence, and ‘put away’ some of the people who had helped the bushrangers.

So a man named William Stevens, a prisoner of the Crown, and two youths who had come with their parents from Norfolk Island, in whose possession some of the stolen property was found, were all apprehended. They were found guilty by a court-martial and sentenced to death.

Martial law was repealed in October, 1815, and the bushrangers carried on for some time in a lively fashion, before betaking themselves to their mountain fastnesses to lie low and rest from their labors.


On November 7 they broke out again, and were heard of as having attacked the house of Mr. David Rose at Port Dalrymple (Launceston) ‘ where, says Mr. Wells, “their conduct while plundering here was aggravated, as on other occasions, by every wanton atrocity.”

They turned up next near Bagdad, about 100 miles away, ten days later, and raided the farm of Mr. T. Hayes.
Here they found an itinerant trader named Stocker with a cart-load of valuable goods, to the whole of which they helped themselves.
Howe’s early training in the Navy induced him to impose upon his companions the discipline of a man-o’-war.
It was even said that he administered to all who joined him an oath of obedience taken on a prayer-book — but this is most likely a misunderstanding of what one of their captives saw when, before sending to the Lieutenant-Governor a letter signed by eleven of the bushrangers, Howe swore them to abide by its terms.

In the following year he was signing himself in his letters to Davey, ‘Lieutenant-Governor of the Woods,’ and in 1817, ‘Governor of the Ranges,’ and he communicated with both Davey and Sorell quite as an equal.
A sworn statement referring to the letter sent to Colonel Davey is of interest. Made by John Tooke, it tells how he fell in with a party of bushrangers on November 27.

“I observed a thick man writing, as I suppose to the Lieutenant-Governor — Geary was the man who administered the oath on a prayer book, calling each man for the purpose regularly; they did not inform me the contents of the letter,” runs the statement.

“Michael Howe and Geary directed me to state when I came to town the whole I had seen and to inform Mr. Humphrey and Mr. Wade to take care of themselves, as they were resolved to take their lives, and to prevent them from keeping stock or grain, unless there was something done for them.”

In the following February, the Commandant at Launceston sent out a party of the 46th Regiment under Ensign Mahon, and after a hunt through the bush of two or three weeks they came across Chapman, Parker, and Elliott, members of Howe’s gang, at York Plains. Mahon called on them to surrender, but the bushrangers fired and made off.
The soldiers returned’the fire, and Chapman was fatally wounded, whilst Parker was slightly wounded and managed to escape into the dense scrub. Ensign Mahon shot Elliott dead.
The heads were taken from the corpses and sent into Launceston, and the bodies buried on the spot. Parker was caught later on, and dealt with in the usual fashion.

Mr. Wells chronicles what was probably Howes’ basest action — one that puts him outside the pale of the commonest decency.

“In the early part of March it appears that some jealousy of Howe began to manifest itself in the old Gang — they conceived, from the circumstances of his being absent at intervals without their knowledge or assigning any reason, that he meditated betraying the rest. Howe was aware of their suspicions, and, feeling no longer secure among them, suddenly eloped, taking with him the native girl before mentioned.
“In April, 1817, Lt.-Governor Sorell arrived, and assumed the government of the settlement oh Van Diemen’s Land; and about this period Howe and the native girl were pursued in the neighborhood of Jericho by a small party of, the 46th Regiment.


It was a bad day’s work for Howe when he treated the black gin so villainously, for she turned against him with hatred as natural as it was bitter, and became of the greatest use to those who were on his trail In following up the hunted man’s tracks.


wanton callousness
Source: “BUSHRANGERS—NOTED AND NOTORIOUS” Truth (Brisbane, Qld. : 1900 – 1954) 18 November 1934: 22.