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.

Spotlight: Braidwood (09/02/1871)

Newcastle Chronicle (NSW : 1866 – 1876), Thursday 9 February 1871, page 2


BRAIDWOOD.

Monday.

Yesterday, the coach with the Sydney, and Goulburn mail was stuck-up by a bushranger. All the Goulburn letters were taken. The police went in pursuit about noon, and at 7 o’clock, the bushranger was brought in by senior-constable Hurley and constable Bragg, after a smart chase. His name is William Maher, a native of Goulburn. He had previously robbed a Chinaman of £5, with horse, saddle, and bridle. He also took a fresh horse from a paddock near town. Great credit is due to senior-constable Hurley for the rapidity with which he overtook and captured Maher.

Spotlight: A Bushranger’s Autobiography (part four)

Australasian (Melbourne), Saturday 22 February 1879, page 7


(Concluded.)

After this I again went up the country, and done several robberies on the other side of Goulburn, but the mounted police were soon in full chase of me, so I turned and went down until I got 100 miles, when I thought I would call and see Mr. Gray, who kept a large public house. I knew every room in this house, and where he kept his firearms.

One evening, just as it was getting dark, I tied my horse to a tree in the bush, and walked into the house. Mrs. Gray was behind the bar counter, and said, “Good evening, constable; have you heard any talk of Jacky Jacky, lately?”
“Yes, Mrs. Gray; I have heard of him up the country, and have been after him myself for the last month, but couldn’t meet with him. A glass of rum if you please, Mrs. Gray; if Mr. Gray is in I want to see him.”
“Go one of you,” said Mrs. Gray, “and tell Mr. Gray a constable wants him.”
When he came I wheeled round and gave the order “Bail up all; don’t move hand or foot or I’ll blow your brains out.”

When I had bailed them all up, I went straight to Mr. Gray’s bedroom and secured the arms, which made me master of the place. I also knew where the money was, and made Mrs. Gray pull out all the drawers in the chest. She pulled all out but one and it struck me she had her reasons for so doing, and I asked her why she didn’t open that drawer.

“There’s nothing in it, sir,” she said; but I requested her to open it, and about £70 in silver and £20 in notes explained why the drawer was left last.
“Now, Mrs. Gray, take that drawer down to the bar’, if you please, and empty what money there’s in the till into it.” This was done; and now I was master of all the cash as well as the arms in the house.

All the men I had bailed up stood in a passage a few yards in front of me. I now took up the drawer containing the money in my two hands, having first put the two guns I got in the bedroom under my arm; When I turned to go out of the front door, all the men rushed me, pinioned my arms behind my back. Then I saw what a mistake I had made in not making Mrs. Gray carry the drawer with the money outside; but it was too late. There were 12 or 14 men round me, as near as I can say, and although I had a tussle for it, I received a blow that knocked me down senseless, and when I came to myself, I found myself sectored in the taproom, with one end of a long chain round my neck, fastened with a padlock, and the other end made fast to a dray wheel laid in the middle of the room. There I remained all night like a monkey on a chain.

Next morning, I was placed in a cart with the chain made fast to the axletree, and in this conveyed to Berrima gaol. Shortly after I was removed, and conveyed to Sydney gaol in the year 1842. I was tried and convicted, and, with others, were transported for life to the penal settlement of Port Arthur, in Tasmania. Here I was associated with wretches of the foulest dye. It was their daily study to plunge one another into trouble.

I had not been long here when me and four others took the bush. After two days’ wandering our leader brought us back to the spot we started from. In three days more, we were all captured, tried before the commandant, and received 100 lashes apiece for absconding. I was also put in irons, and my daily work was to carry a log of wood l cwt. up and down the settlement road. This continued about nine weeks, when one day the commandant released me, and sent me to gang with the other men.

Shortly afterwards I absconded again, to obtain what I had long been deprived of — liberty. Along with three other men I took the bush, with the intention of making a canoe. After being out several days with nothing to eat, we became quite weak. One morning I smelt a great smell, like the smell of meat roasting. We were more like hounds put on a scent, and seeking the hare. At last, we got to the sea, and there on the beach we saw a huge whale, dead, I should say, several days. It had been harpooned at sea, and washed in by the tide. It was this dead whale we had smelled. We were now supplied with meat in plenty, and subsisted on the flesh of it for several days while making our canoe. When it was almost finished the constables came on us and called on us to submit; but this was out of the question, and we ran for it, hoping they would fire on us and we should be shot, as death was preferable to life at Port Arthur at that time. After a short pursuit my companions were taken, but managed to give the constables the slip for some days longer; but I was taken, and the whole party were tried before Captain Booth, and each received 100 lashes, with heavy irons, and to be chained to a ringbolt while we were stone-breaking, and in a small room by night.

I remained in this way for nearly 12 months, when Captain Booth released me, and once more sent me to ordinary hard labour with the other men. About four months afterwards I took the bush once more, with two men who knew it well.
We got to the place agreed on, and where I could see the main land at about two miles distance. We must get across to it, and had no boat. I was a very bad swimmer. and two miles was a long pull for a new beginner. But my two companions did not hesitate, but pulled off their trousers and plunged into the water, with me after them, with my trousers thrown over my neck, for I was determined to get over to the mainland or be drowned in the attempt. After swimming about a mile, one of my companions — and very soon after the other — was seized, and drawn down by the sharks. I was left alone to the mercy of the waves, expecting the same fate every minute. At last, after a desperate struggle, I got to the land, but had lost my trousers and shirt, and scrambled ashore quite naked. In this state I found myself alone in a bush that I did not know, and greatly grieved at the death of my two companions. I made a bed in the long grass and picked up some shellfish that kept me alive for three days. On the fourth day the constables saw me, and I was brought back to Port Arthur once more, where I was punished with 90 days’ solitary confinement and 12 months’ “E.H.L.C.” (extension with hard labour in chains).
After my 90 days’ solitary was done things took a change. Captain Booth left Port Arthur, and Mr. Champ came Commandant, who treated me with great kindness; he took off my leg irons and removed me from the chain gang and soon placed me as servant to Mr. Laidley, the commissariat officer at Port Arthur, and a better master I never had. I was with him three months when I was promoted into the commandant’s boat crew, and was going on well.

One day two gentlemen went out in their own boat to have a sail in the harbour, when they got capsized. The commandant’s crew launched his boat and rescued them. In reward for this I and others were removed from Port Arthur to Hobart Town, and sent to Glenorchy probation station, which was a great advance. I was here six months when I felt a longing desire to see Sydney again, and me and Thos. Grilling and Wm. Allom agreed to take the bush. Allom was to be leader, as he said he knew the country. We got away, and after a whole day and night, the next morning our leader brought us back close to the station. I then took the lead, and the first place we stuck up was Mr. T. Y. Lowe’s station to get arms. The next day was Sunday, and about dusk in the evening we stuck up Mr. White’s, in Kangaroo Bottom, where we got a double and single barrel gun and two brace of pistols, by which we could now stand fight with the constables. We also took three suits of clothes and other things we wanted.
The very next morning a party of constables came across us, and shots were exchanged, one of which tore the pouch off a constable’s belt, and it was a drawn battle. We now made for Brown’s River, hoping to seize a small craft there, but were disappointed. We then headed up for New Norfolk, and four miles above it we stuck up a farm-house, beginning with the huts and ending with the house, from which we took a supply of things needful. Allom now turned right round, and would soon have got us among the constables, when I took the lead, and made for the Dromedary, where Martin Cash once took up his refuge.
From the top of this hill, we could see for miles round the country. Among the rocks we made up a fire, and with melted snow made tea and had our supper, for we were hungry, and tired, and cold.

Next day Allom again took the lead. But I soon saw that he did not know the country, and I had some sharp words with him for deceiving us before we bolted by bragging of his acquaintance with it. We were very uncomfortable, a sign that misfortune was near. I took the lead through a thick scrub, but soon after I missed Gilling, for whom I had a sincere regard, and I called a halt for him to come up. After waiting a long time, I set to look for him, and cooeyed as loud as I dare; but I never saw him again. He sent me word afterwards, when he was lying under sentence in Launceston gaol, that he lost us by accident in taking a wrong turn, and was afraid to cooey.
Towards evening I and Allom made for the township or Green Ponds, and, after pitching on a place to camp in, Allom set out for the village to get some things we wanted. After waiting for him five or six hours I began to think he had fallen in with the constables, for he never came back. He was a resolute man, and had many good qualities; but he deceived me in saying he knew the bush of Tasmania. He told me afterwards, when I met him a prisoner in Norfolk Island, that he left me because he was afraid I would shoot him; but such a thing never entered my mind, and I always had a fear of shedding blood, though I often spoke rough to people I stuck up. When I found that Allom did not return, I was quite cast down. I was left to myself; ignorant of the country, hungry and tired, constables on the alert at all the townships, my comrades lost, and no hope of getting to the coast and escape.

I spent a very miserable night after Allom’s departure, and next day pushed on by myself to the Lovely Banks, where I was seen and challenged by a constable, who called on me to surrender. This roused me, and, levelling my gun at him, I ordered him to throw down his piece or I’d blow his head off. To my great astonishment he threw it down, at the first word. I bid him stand back, and then I took up his gun and fired it off, and rifled him of his ammunition. I was going to break his gun, but he begged hard of me to give it back to him, and did so and let him go. Yet this cowardly fellow afterwards swore in court that I fired five shots at him when I never fired at him at all.
I got some food at a house, and the second day after my encounter with the constable I reached Oatlands, but I was now too dejected to go any further. My lightness of heart, that never failed me before, now deserted me. At sundown I turned off the road some way and lighted a fire to have some refreshment, and then lay down to sleep very unhappy, and indifferent whether I ever woke again.
Next morning a stockman passing early through the bush saw me, and gave information to the constables at Oatlands police station, and I was soon surrounded by four of them well armed, captured, and sent down handcuffed to Hobart Town, where I was tried at the next assizes, and for the third time sentenced to transportation for life, and now with 10 years’ detention at Norfolk Island.

THE END


POSTSCRIPT.

The foregoing was, in fact, written by Westwood, on my suggestion. To a sanguine and nervous temperament like his, a Norfolk Island cell was as irksome as stable and halter to a zebra of the Zulu deserts. He could read pretty well ; but he soon wearied of it, and sought relief for his restlessness in an attempt to break out of “prison thrall.” But the strong stone walls and solid flooring of freestone blocks of the new octagon gaol might defy the industry of Trenck himself. There was, however, a vulnerable point. The ceiling of the cells was only wooden planks, two inches thick, and 13ft. from the ground. Westwood resolved that the ceiling should be cut through, though the gaol authorities supplied neither step ladder or saw. A step ladder was dispensed with by his standing on the shoulders of a fellow prisoner confined in the same cell; a saw was smuggled into his hands by a confederate employed about the gaol. This “saw” was an instrument once well renown at Tasmanian penal stations and at Norfolk Island. It was of steel, about three or four inches long, easily carried and concealed. With one of these, and elevated on his cell mate’s neck, he cut away cautiously and painfully for a fortnight at the wooden ceiling. The gaol was only one story high. If a hole were made in the ceiling the shingles of the roof could be removed by the hand, and egress secured. But to get clear off, he must creep along the roof to the boundary wall at the risk of being shot by the military sentry within the gaol; and if he jumped down he was almost sure to drop into the grasp of the patrol constable outside; and if he could evade these difficulties and get into the lemon groves, their densest thicket and deepest gully could afford him a hiding-place and freedom only for a day. Yet, for this one day’s exemption from convict “chains and slavery,” he would gladly saw his anxious road through the ceilings of all the cells in the gaol. A prisoner in a next cell overheard the sawing, and hinted to the gaoler that there was “something up” in Westwood’s cell. The result was that turnkeys came and surprised him when he had well nigh completed his opening in the ceiling, removed him to another, and placed him in heavier fetters. For some days he was in great perturbation at being detected, and to turn his thoughts into a calmer channel, I recommended him to ask for paper and write his life. The idea seemed to please him. I knew it would be slow and tedious employment for him. But he got the paper, commenced writing, and there was no more trouble with him. The end of his story is told in my introductory remarks. P.

Spotlight: A Bushranger’s Autobiography (part three)

Australasian (Melbourne), Saturday 15 February 1879, page 7


(continued from last week.) THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

In the year 1841, on April 15, I was tried at Berrima for being in the bush under arms. I was found guilty, and transported for life to Norfolk Island, never to return. I remained in the gaol waiting to be conveyed down to Sydney. One morning the order came for me to go. I was placed in a cart and guarded by three mounted police and a constable. One night on the road I was placed in the lock-up at the Stone Quarry for the night. I put my wits to work to get out, and succeeded. I instantly made for the place where the mounted police slept. I took what arms I wanted, as they were all fast asleep. Next, I scaled the wall of the lock-up yard after a deal of trouble, for I was so heavily chained I could scarcely walk. Before I could get well into the bush, daylight made its appearance. I was surrounded by constables in all directions searching for me. I expected to be taken every minute. The thought came into my head to get up a tree. I picked out a good one, and scrambling up, there I remained all day. At night I came down, but dare not proceed any further, as the constables would be lying in wait all round me. I remained in this way for four days, up in the tree in the daytime, and down at night.

The fourth night I made to a house I could see some way off, to seek some refreshment and likewise something to cut my irons with. I knocked at the door, they opened it, and I went in. They all appeared to be very much frightened at my appearance. They were very poor people, and it grieved me to the heart to take anything from them. They gave me some refreshment, and I felt a different man altogether. I asked them for a knife and file to cut off my irons with. They gave them to me, and I bid them good night. I now walked into the bush, and cut my chains off that night. The next morning, I concealed myself under a bridge, waiting to stop the first man that came. In the course of an hour a gentleman came on horseback. I made my appearance in front of him with no hat and no shoes; all the clothes I had on was a shirt and a pair of trousers. I was something like a wild man, but I gave the old war cry, “Stand, or I’ll blow your head off.” I then ordered him off his horse, and to turn out his pockets. Then I mounted his horse, and marched him in the front of me a mile into the bush. I made him take off everything but his shirt. Then I put on his clothes and gave him my trousers; his own mother would hardly have known him. I told him I was going up the country, and bid him good day. After I had got out of sight, I turned my horse’s head right round, and took down the country. I came on to the road and held gently along until I met two gentlemen going up the country. I stopped them, and took all their money and their watches. This job over I put spurs to my horse, and went lull gallop along, robbing everyone I met until I came to the Cow Pastures. Here I turned my horse adrift, as I did not consider I was safe on his back. He was dead beat. I then went to one of my friends to take a spell, and get some things I required.

The next place where I made my appearance was on the West End road, close to Paramatta. I stood by the road, and the first person I stuck up was a parson going to the West End church to preach. I did not rob him. I let him pass as he was a parson. I had an hour’s conversation with him. He tried to get me to go to church with him, but that did not answer. A horse and chaise now made its appearance, and I bid the parson good day. When the horse and chaise came up to where I was standing, I ordered the driver to pull up or I would shoot him. I made him come down and empty his pockets. He was very loth to perform this part of the business but turned out about £27. I took also his coat and hat and let him go.

I did not fancy that part of the country, so I took the coach and went up towards Goulburn. Here I was in a part I knew well. I began again by sticking up Mr. H. I took all his money and his clothes, but I gave him mine in return. I then took him to a bridge and placed him underneath for about an hour. Three horsemen now made their appearance, all abreast and in earnest conversation. As they came near I jumped into the centre of the road with the word of command, made them get down and tie their horses to a tree. Then their pockets were turned out, and they stood back. I then advanced and took the money up. I then took Mr. J. M.’s horse and bid them good day.

One day as I came out on to the road, I saw some drays encamped. I tied my horse to a tree about 300 yards from the drays. I walked down to the drays. I knew one of the men. I asked him to make me a pot of tea. He told me I had better get off into the bush, as I was in danger there, five constables being with them looking for me only half an hour ago. I took his advice, and went back to my horse to wait while he brought me some tea and other refreshment, as he said he would. About five minutes after I had left the drays, I saw four mounted police come full gallop up to the drays. They did not stop there long, but came full speed towards me. My horse was unsaddled, with a tether rope round his neck, taking a feed of grass. I had no time for anything before they were upon me. I mounted a tree close to where my horse was tied, from which I had the pleasure of seeing them seeking for me for about an hour. They took my horse, but did not discover me. I got clean off, and they did not know how it was done.

I now thought the sooner I get a new horse the better; so, I made to Mr. Stukey’s, to pay him a visit. I arrived at his place before he was up. When he made his appearance, I rather surprised him by telling him to stand. At this time there was no one up but himself. I went to the kitchen, and called the servant-man. He dressed himself, and came down stairs.
“Tie your master’s hands behind him,” I said. At this time all the young ladies came running down stairs in their nightgowns. “For God’s sake, don’t hurt my father,” they cried. It seemed there was an ill-feeling between the servant-man and his master, as he had got him flogged a few days before. The servant-man now commenced pitching into his master, right and left; at which the young females appealed to me to prevent the servant from beating their father. I gave I the young ladies no answer to that, for I considered he was doing nothing but right.
The man now came to me and said, “Give me a pistol and I’ll shoot him.”
“No,” I said, “I’ll do no such thing.”
I now over hauled the house. I found a double-barrelled gun. I then went into the kitchen and ordered the servant-woman to get breakfast ready. I then asked the master where the key of the store was. The servant-man took the key and unlocked the store. I went in, and found plenty of rum, wine, and brandy. I took a glass of the brandy, gave the servant-man one, and likewise the woman. I then asked the young ladies to take a glass of wine with me. This they did, and drank my health. After I had got such things as I required out of the store, I took breakfast with Mr. and Mrs. Stukey. After breakfast I ordered Miss Stukey to go and bring me a suit of Mr. Stukey’s best clothes. At this time the servant-man and also the servant-woman wanted to join me as companions. I gave my consent to the man, but not to the woman. He then put on a suit of his master’s best clothes, while I went into the stable, saddled a horse, and put the plunder on his back. He was quite a young horse, and had not been rode many times. I mounted him, and off we went. The servant-woman came running after us and caught me by the hand. The horse took fright, and by chance flung me off and galloped away into the bush. I went back to Mr. Stukey’s, and he begged and prayed of me not to let his servant-man go with me, as his time was almost done, and he promised me faithfully not to take him to court for his conduct that morning. I then advised the man to stay where he was, for mine was a very bad game to play. Having arranged my swag, I bid them good day, and was getting out of the paddock, when the female servant came running to me again, and catching hold of me said, “Where you go, I will go, so say no more.” I tried to persuade her to go back, but she would not. So, I let her come with me, and a faithful companion she was whilst I remained in the bush.

I now thought I would pay my friend Mr. “Black Francis” McCarthy a visit. He was in the habit of going to Goulburn church every Sunday. I came to the road and waited. About 4 o’clock in the afternoon I saw him coming in his carriage. I was ready, and sprang out before them, and bid them pull up or be shot. I then ordered him down out of the carriage, and turn out his pockets, and be sharp about it, and not dare to speak one word to me, as he hadn’t me in Goulburn Court-house now, and trying to make men swear away my life, and his life was now in my hands. It was my firm intention to tie him up to the wheel of his carriage, and make his driver flog him; but through his sister being with him he escaped this punishment. I next ordered him to take one of the horses out of the carriage and take off the harness, and I warned him that if he let the horse escape, I would consider he did it purposely, and blow his head off. When I had picked up the money and watch I got on the back of his carriage horse, and left him to his reflections. He was “black” enough when I met him, but I left him white enough; and from the top of a hill, I looked back and had the pleasure to see the coachman leading the one horse up the hill, and Mr. Black Francis pushing the carriage behind — a sight that gave me real satisfaction.

Spotlight: A Bushranger’s Autobiography (part two)

Australasian (Melbourne), Saturday 8 February 1879, page 6


(Continued from last week)

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY

I was bred and born in Manuden, in Essex. I was brought up by a kind father and mother. They tried to give me a good education, but I paid no attention to it. I entered upon evil courses when very young. At 16 years of age, I was taken up for highway robbery, and was committed to Chelmsford gaol in 1835. On the day of trial, through the intercession of my father, and on account of my youth, I got off with 12 months’ imprisonment. When my time had expired, on the morning I was released from gaol, the first person I saw was my father waiting to accompany me home, where on arriving I was surrounded with kindness by my parents, and my father advised me never again to keep company with my old companions. I took his advice for some time, but not for long. I became acquainted with a young man, a greater vagabond than myself, who induced me to live like himself, by plunder both by day and by night. But this game did not last long. It brought me among my old companions and to Chelmsford gaol.

On January 3, 1837, I was tried for robbery, and, being an old offender, received 14 years’ sentence of transportation, while my companion was discharged. While I remained in gaol, waiting to go down to Portsmouth, one day I shall never forget, my father and mother, and sisters and brothers, came to take their last farewell of me. The tears rolled down their cheeks for their undutiful son and bad brother. I took my leave of them at the time, thinking I never should see them anymore. Shortly afterwards I was removed down to Portsmouth, and had been there only a few days when an order came down from London for 300 prisoners to go on board the ship Mangles, and I was one among the number. We sailed from Portsmouth March 15, 1837, and had a pleasant voyage (to Sydney). Soon after landing I was assigned to a gentleman in the interior of the country, a very hard and severe man. He did not allow me a sufficiency of food, and only a scanty supply of clothing. I had not been with him long when I was prosecuted several times for little or nothing. I found it impossible to remain with him and I took the bush, thinking to make my situation in life better; I was well aware I could not make it any worse. Through my not knowing the bush I was soon taken by the mounted police and brought back to my master again, after I had been tied up and received 50 lashes. I now made up my mind never to remain with him. I took the bush again, but was soon captured and sent to court, and sentenced to six months in a chain gang. I now thought within myself that I was rid of my master, but to my great mistake, when my six months in the chain gang were done, I was sent back to him once more.

I was now put to a standstill. I did not see what to do. I did not fancy stopping with him to be starved to death in the land of plenty. One night me and two other men went out and committed a robbery with arms in order to supply our wants, and things went on in this way for some considerable time. I had enough of everything I wanted. My master looked jealous, but he did not know how it was done, as I worked for him in the day, but worked for myself in the night. But, at last, I was bowled out. One night, with my two companions, a robbery was committed, and the next day we were taken up on suspicion and brought before a magistrate. My two companions were committed for trial, and I was discharged and again sent back to my old; master. In the course of two or three days I was told that one of my mates had turned King’s evidence, and I knew I might as well take the bush and have a run for it, as I was well aware I might expect to be transported, if not hanged. That night I bolted, with the intention of taking arms, and the first place I made for was one of my master’s sheep stations, to see one of my old farm mates.

I had not been long there when I heard the noise of a horse’s feet come galloping up to the hut. I ran to the door to see who it was, and who should it be but a man I knew very well, who had been in the bush about 18 months. He was a terror to the settlers in that part of the country, and was well mounted and armed. He dismounted and came into the hut. I liked his appearance very much. I got into a yarn with him and told him how I was situated, and that I liked his line of life, and would serve with him as his companion if he was willing. He looked at me, but gave me no answer. I then got up and went over to him and took his hand, and said, “Here is my band and my heart to go with you if you like.” He hesitated a little, and then said I could come. So, we bid the hutkeeper good day, and off we went together through the bush until we came to a road. Here my companion dismounted and tied his horse to a tree, and then concealed myself alongside of I the road ready to receive the first traveller that came by.

We had not been there long when I saw a horseman come riding along. When he came close up me and my companion jumped out into the centre of the road, and my companion cried out, “Stand; don’t move hand or foot, or I’ll blow your brains out. Get off that horse. Have you got any money?” The traveller got off, and I went up and searched him. I took £7 from his pockets and the watch off his neck. Then we led him and his horse a short way among the trees, where I ordered him to strip. He did not understand this, but I soon explained that I wanted his clothes, and in return I would give him mine. His were just my fit, and then I mounted his horse, which was a good one. We bid him good-day, and off we went full gallop. When night came on, we camped out, and the next morning we went to stick up a settler’s place about a mile distant.

We rode up to the house, and stuck them nil up. After searching the men, we ordered the mistress of the housed to get us some refreshment, which she did. After a good snack, and drinking a couple of bottles of wine, I went outside to look at the horses. While outside I heard a scream, and ran inside, where I saw my companion attempting some liberties with the mistress of the House. I checked him at once; when he drew a pistol from his belt, and was levelling it at me when I rushed upon him and struck it out of his hand. This led to a row between us, and I resolved to part from such a hot-tempered companion, as two of the same sort were better asunder. I left him there, and mounting my horse I went off by myself.

I was now left alone to manage a trade I did not much understand, but my heart was good to learn. I now was my own master, and it was my wish to remain so. I came out on a road after a long ride, and determined to stick up the first passenger that came. I had not been there very long when I saw a man come riding along, When close up I jumped out into the middle of the road, and used the word of command as I heard it from my companion yesterday, “Stand; don’t move hand or foot, or I’ll blow your brains out. What have you got in them leather bags before you on your saddle?” “They are the mailbags, sir,” he said; but there’s nothing in them but letters.” “How do you know what’s in them; unbuckle them and throw them from your saddle. Quick! I’ll soon see what’s in them.” On overhauling the bags I found, to my great satisfaction, they contained something else besides letters. I unsealed several and found they had money in them. I then mounted my horse, and set off about a mile with the bags, where I dismounted and searched the swag. It took me some time to open such a number of letters. The sum I found in them was £70, and cheques and orders £200. After this I was always very partial to mailmen.

 At this time Christmas was close at hand, and I went to a friend of mine, as I took him to be. At his place I was made welcome, and he appeared happy to see me. Two days before Christmas Day I gave him some money to go to a store and buy some rum and other things to make merry Christmas with. In the afternoon, by chance, I took a walk to meet him on his return. At length I saw him coming, and five constables with him. I concealed myself in the trees and let them go on, laughing in my sleeve to think how nicely they were sharped. My horse was up at his place, but that made small odds, as I could soon get another. I made for the main road to get a nag, as I did not fancy walking. When I got to the road, I stationed myself to receive the first swell that came. After a while I saw two gentlemen come riding together, engaged in a deep yarn; when close I rushed out, shouting to them to stand or be shot. They seemed quite astonished at my sudden command; but I ordered them to dismount and tie their horses to a tree, and then demanded their money, and made them turn out their pockets. They turned out £19 between them. Picking up this I mounted one of their horses, bid them good day, and pushed off into the bush.

My next attempt was on a settler’s house. I rode up to it, and bid the master of it good day. He made me no answer, and did not relish the looks of me, for he seemed frightened. There were four men on the farm besides himself. I bailed them all up, making one man tie the other. Next, I ordered the woman-servant to bind the master’s hands behind his back. All were now secured but the females, and these I wanted to wait on me. I now overhauled the place, and the first thing I saw was a double-barrel piece and a brace of pistols, and grasped them eagerly. The next thing that drew my attention was one of the men singing out to me, “For God’s sake, don’t rob my master, for he is a good man,” winking his eye at me the same time, as much as to say, he is a great vagabond. I next ordered the females to get me some refreshment as quick as possible, and after that I had a glass or two of wine. Then I untied the master’s hands, and made him load one of his own horses with a sackful of everything I required. I then mounted my own horse, and led the pack-horse by my side. I made for the mountains to have a spell, as the police were now rather busy. The country for me. I remained in ambush as long as my store lasted.

When this was done, I thought it was time to have another parley with the mailmen. So, I mounted my horse, and made for the road between Goulburn and Yass. At 4 o’clock in the afternoon the mail made its appearance. I rode up full gallop in front of the driver, and cried out, “Pull up, or I’ll blow your head off,” keeping a strict eye on the passengers at the same time. “Come down one and all, and be quick. Now turn out your pockets,” was the word; and then ordering them to stand back, and I put the contents of their pockets into my pocket. I next ordered them to stand back a distance of 100 yards, while I overhauled the mail. I dismounted and got up on the coach. I took the mail bags from the box, and likewise a carpetbag. I buckled them in the front of my saddle, mounted my horse, and bid them good day, and I turned mailman. After I had got about a mile in the bush, I rummaged the bags, and was employed for an hour in breaking letters open. The total sum of money the different letters contained amounted to £200. With this I thought I might as well take a trip down to Sydney. It was dangerous to remain in that part of the country, for the police were everywhere. The country was in a complete uproar after me.

I dung my horse, and took the coach down to Sydney. When I reached Sydney, I put up at a hotel in George street. I remained in Sydney about a month, regaling myself with every kind of sport. One night when I was at the play, I observed a man looking at me very hard as if he knew me. I recognised him to be a shipmate of mine, who came with me in the Mangles from England. I left the theatre and got out of Sydney as fast as I could. When I got up the country everything was very quiet. I thought it was time to give them another stir up, as they seemed so dull. I commenced again by sticking the first swell up who came the road. I had not been waiting long before Mr. P. M. arrived. I received him with open arms and the usual salute, “Stand; don’t move hand or foot, or I’ll blow your brains out.” He looked like a stuck pig. And the next word was, “Come off that horse. Now, turn out your pockets.” He turned out about £30; and then I cried, “Hand that watch this way.” He had a splendid suit of clothes on, which were about my fit. I took him into the bush a short distance, and made him strip. I took his clothes and gave him mine. After he had dressed himself, I struck a light and lit my pipe, and got into a great yarn with him about the affairs of the country. I handed him a cigar, and he had a smoke. After we had done smoking, I tied his horse to a tree, and took him with me to the side of the road, waiting to receive the next visitor that came that way. By and bye I saw two gentlemen coming on horseback. When they came up to where I was concealed, I sprang out, crying, “Stand, or I’ll blow your heads off.” “Pray, don’t hurt us, sir,” said the gentlemen. I made them dismount and turn out their pockets, and I got £11 between them. I now picked the best horse out, and mounted him. He was as lively as a bag of fleas. Then I bid them good-bye, and off I went. As I was riding through the bush, I saw three mounted policemen, well-armed. When they saw me they put spurs to their horses, and made towards me full gallop. I put spurs to my horse, and off he went like the wind. The further they came after me the further they got behind; and I soon gave them the go-by.

The next place I made for was Mr. Cardoe’s station, to pay his superintendent a visit, as he was a great wretch. Many a young man had he drove to destruction. When I arrived at his place he was walking in front of his house. I rode up to him, and he bid me good evening. I dismounted and put a pistol to his head, saying, “If you move, I’ll blow your head off!” All the men there was about the place was three. I ordered one of them to tie his hands behind him, and then to tie him to the verandah post. Then I went into the house and overhauled it. I found a single-barrel fowling piece and £4 in money. All the men seemed very pleased to serve him in the way I did. I now ordered one of the men to load my horse with things I wanted. I then untied him from the post, and ordered him to kneel down. “Oh, for God’s sake, don’t shoot me. I’ll never get another man flogged if you forgive me this time.” I forgave him, and I believe he behaved very kind to the men after that. I now mounted my horse and bid them good night, and left that part of the country.

I went to pay one of my friends a visit. When I came to his place I was treated with great kindness. I sent one of the females to a public house for some rum to regale ourselves. Someone that knew me saw me drinking there. This person went out and gave information, and I was taken when three parts drunk. They brought me to a public house sat Bungadore, where they confined me in the parlour with four men to guard me. Each man had a pistol. I rushed one of them, and took his pistol from him; the other three ran out of the door. I now had a run for it, but before I could reach the bush, I was surrounded with horsemen well-armed. I was brought back and secured in a curious manner. I had as many ropes and cords around me as a man could well carry, and so conveyed to gaol in a cart, tied up like a faggot.

In the course of two or three days I was taken before a magistrate, and committed for highway robbery. The magistrate who committed me was “Black Francis McCarty.” He tried all he could to hang me by trying to make the witnesses swear to more than they knew. But I had the pleasure of taking satisfaction of him afterwards, as you shall hear in the course of your reading.

Spotlight: Robberies by Hall & Co. (November 1864)

Empire (Sydney, NSW : 1850 – 1875), Wednesday 16 November 1864, page 3


STICKING-UP OF ROSSIVILLE AND ROBBERY OF THE SYDNEY MAIL BY HALL, DUNN, AND GILBERT.

The town of Goulburn was thrown into a state of great excitement on Wednesday morning last, by a report that Mr. Rossi’s house at Rossiville, only two and a half miles from town had been stuck up the previous night by Hall, Gilbert, and young Dunn. It was at first stated that the robbers had their faces covered when committing the outrage, and this led to the rumour being discredited as to the identity of the men, as it was well known the three individuals named never resort to concealment of their faces; it proved, however, that there had been no concealment.

On inquiry we learnt that about eight o’clock on Tuesday evening three men entered the back yard of Rossiville with revolvers in their hands, and the servant girl seeing them, immediately cried out that there were bushrangers. There were at the time on the premises only William Cushing, the coachman; an old man named Jim; and the servant girl – Mr. and Mrs. Rossi being absent with the Right Rev. Dr. Thomas on his diocesan tour. The inmates were all obliged to go into the kitchen, and the girl was made to fry some eggs for the robbers’ supper. They aIso made them fetch wine, of which, as well as the eggs, they, obliged the servants to partake before touching themselves. Gilbert told them they ought to feel highly honoured at their taking the meal in the kitchen, as it was a thing they never did before, being always accustomed to use the dining room or drawing room for that purpose. They complained of the quality of the bread, saying the flour was very dark, and asked, if that was Mr. Rossi’s fault. Being informed that it was the miller’s, they requested that their compliments should be presented to Mr. Conolly, with the request that he should send a couple of bags of his best flour before their next visit. The bushrangers made a thorough search of the premises at Rossiville and broke open boxes and drawers, but fortunately, all the plate and jewellery had been removed into town for safe custody before Mr. Rossi’s departure. Gilbert, however, selected a pair of new Bedford cord trousers and a new pair of Napoleon boots, and having arrayed himself in them, asked if they did not suit him admirably. They stopped at the house until about ten o’clock, when they left, taking with them three horses — viz., a pair of carriage horses which had been lately sold to Mr. Augustus Morris, M.P., but had not been removed, and Mr. Rossi’s grey Arab — a rifle, a couple of saddles, and some smaller articles. As the inmates of the house, however, were not sure about their departure, it was near eleven before Mr. Jordan, the overseer, who lives close by, could be communicated with and informed of the affair. He immediately accompanied by a young lad, came into town and gave information at the lock-up, viz., at about a quarter before midnight. Owing to our splendid system which leaves the troopers’ barracks two miles away from the centre of the town, it wast near one o’clock before four troopers started for Rossiville senior constable Paget and the lad having gone down to the Old Township to make their report, whilst Mr. Jordan, went to acquaint the Rev. Mr. Sowerby with what had happened. The boy eloquently and forcibly explained how the robbers were armed, by saying that they had “bushels of revolvers,” a not very inapplicable simile, when, as it appeared next morning, Hall alone had no less than eight revolvers in his belt.

Having now stated what occurred at Rossiville, we must turn to the robbery of the Sydney mail. Latterly, owing to the fine weather and excellent state of the roads, Messrs. Cobb and Co.’s coach from Picton with the Sydney mails has arrived punctually to its time, nine o’clook a.m., if not a little earlier. Its non-arrival, therefore, at ten o’clock on Wednesday morning coupled with the previous night’s proceedings, gave reason to believe that the coach had been stuck up, a suspicion that was changed into certainty by the arrival on horseback of Mr. William Sidwell, from Towrang, at a quarter past ten o’clock. Mr. Sidwell stated that a man passing through the bush had seen the coach bailed up and driven off the road, that the man had hastened to let him know, whereupon he had mounted his horse and galloped into town through the bush as hard as be could ride. To make the matter more explicit to our readers, we will give a narrative of the bushrangers’ proceedings, so far as is ascertained.

After leaving Mr. Rossi’s, their proceedings and whereabouts are unknown, until at early dawn they were seen skirting the outside of the town, though there was then no suspicion who they were. They then appear to have proceeded to Towrang, and remained in the vicinity of the toll-bar till they saw Mr. Thomas Parr, clerk to Mr. C. H. Walsh, the solicitor, who had been driving an invalid lady down to Sydney, in Mr. Walsh’s carriage, and was returning with a female friend who had accompanied her. On seeing Mr. Parr they bailed him up, made him stop the carriage and get out; telling him to go to the horses’ heads, which he did. They then asked him if there were any firearms in the carriage, to which he replied in the negative. Not content with the answer, the junior of the party, young Dunn — who they said they had engaged as apprentice for five years, although he had only served four months — was ordered to search the carriage, which he did, and reported Mr. Parr’s statement to be correct. Mr. Parr was then told he might leave the horses. One of the animals attracted the robbers’ fancy, and they took the harness off it. Mr. Parr attempted to decry it as a saddle horse, but Gilbert seemed inclined to take it, so much so that Mr. Parr said, if they did he hoped they would use it well. They then asked whose horse it was, and being told that it was “Lawyer Walsh’s,” they left it alone, but said that if they could get hold of Mr. Walsh they would make him give them a cheque for a good amount, and keep him in their custody till it was cashed. From Mr. Parr they took £2. Having left Shelly’s Flats that morning, and having had no breakfast, Mr. Parr’s female companion felt the want of it, whereupon the bushrangers obligingly made her some tea, and offered her part of a turkey and some cakes obtained from a traveller.

Soon after Mr. Parr was stuck up, a person named Nye who was riding, and who is a brother to a man who was arrested some twelve months back at Sutton Forest on suspicion of being Gilbert, to whom he bears a great resemblance — was stuck up by them. The bushrangers seem to have known who he was for they would not take his money (£1 11s ), and Gilbert laughingly said he might keep it as some compensation for the inconvenience his brother had suffered.

Some other parties having been stuck up, at eight o’clock the mail was slopped about fifty yards this side of the Towrang toll-bar. Johnny Daly, the coachman, saw a couple of men ride out of the bush, and one of them called out to him to bail up, and told him to drive into the bush which he had to do for a distance of some two hundred yards on the Boxer’s Creek side. The passengers in the coach were Mr. and Mrs. Hoskins and daughters, of Foxlowe, near Bungendore; a Mr. Iredale, from Sydney; and a man named Lee, a Yorkshireman; just arrived in the colony, who had been engaged by Mr. Campbell, of Duntroon. The robbers offered no violence whatever, and told the ladies not to be alarmed, as they would not be interfered with. From the males they demanded their money and valuables. Mr. Hoskins had twenty sovereigns in his purse, and these they took, but returned to him his watch. From Mr. Iredale they took £7 10s.; and from Lee £3, although they gave each back when leaving, 10s. in silver. From Daly they took nothing. They boasted of their doings of the preceding evening, and said that they intended giving Mr. Rossi fifty lashes if they had caught him at home for impounding poor men’s cattle. They observed, however, that the servants had told them Mr. Rossi wasn’t as bad as he was painted! They also said that they had seen the police magistrate, Mr. Allman, out near Rossiville the previous evening. They intimated to the persons stuck up that they intended to keep them there until after the arrival of the mail from Goulburn, as they intended to bail that up. Somehow or other they learnt that the gold escort would be coming down in the mail, but this did not appear at first to alter their determination, as they said they would put the first coach across the road at a turn, and thus blockade the path and take the escort unawares. The mailbags were taken down from the coach and all opened, Gilbert and Hall showing that they were well used to the work of “sorting” the letters. Cheques and bills of exchange they thrust aside with contempt, except in one case when they found, as an eye-witness expressed it, a “fistful” of notes in a letter, and a couple of cheques, which Gilbert remarked he could get cashed. There were a number of photographs in the letters, all of which they looked at and expressed their opinion on. In one case there was the photograph of a policeman, whom they apparently receognised, for one of them, pointing his revolver at the photograph said to the other “Wouldn’t I like to have the original here!” Of their findings generally they expressed their opinion by saying that it wasn’t an over and above good morning’s work. There was a large quantity of stamps going from the Postmaster-General to country postmasters, and these they scattered about in all directions, besides appropriating a few to themselves. Shortly after ten o’clock Dunn, who was acting as scout, gave the alarm that a man bad ridden off through the bush towards Goulburn after seeing them. This led to an immediate abandonment of their prisoners. One of Mr. Rossi’s horses, they said, didn’t suit them, and after saying that any one might take it into town, they left it, and made off.

It appears that the freebooters were at Mummell on Tuesday afternoon, had dinner at Mr. McAIeers; and shouted for all hands, but of course they were not known. Their coats were buttoned up, and there were no signs of arms about them, which is the more remarkable, as when seen “professionally” afterwards, they had each, in addition to an apparently almost unIimited stock of revolvers, a short rifle or carbine.

There can be no doubt now, from what we have since heard, that it was Ben Hall’s party or their accomplices that put the logs across the culvert near the Redhouse, on the Yass road, on Tuesday morning, as it is positively stated that the party working on the roads had nothing to do with it. A Mr. Griffiths, who was passing, had them removed immediately that they were seen. Very probably they intended to stick up the mail from Yass on that day, unaware of the fact that it being escort day, the mail came down in a buggy, which probably passed them without particular notice. A curious coincidence, if it be nothing more, may also be remarked in connection with this barricading of the Yass road, and that is, that although when the driver of the Braidwood mail passed a particular spot about three miles this side of the Shoalhaven, at six o’clock p.m., on Tuesday evening the road was clear, yet on his return by the same spot at two o’clock a.m., towards Goulburn, it was barricaded with branches of trees, quite newly cut down, at the time, the coach was among them before the driver had observed them. He immediately dismounted, however, and removed the obstruction, expecting every moment to be stuck up; having put the branches on one side, however, be proceeded on his route and reached town in safety.

On Thursday morning, a rumour prevailed, that the three bushrangers had been at Collector and had stuck up a store there. The sticking up turned out not to be correct, and it is doubtful if any of the trio were concerned in the affair, though if they were not, there is no doubt some of their confederates were. The facts appear to be these. Two men, well mounted on horses somewhat resembling those ridden by two of the bushrangers, and dressed very similarly, rode up to Mr. Wheatley’s store, in Collector, about 6 p.m. One of them having dismounted, entered the shop and made some purchases including a pair of spurs, the latter he put on, but the other things were put in a bundle, and he gave £5 note in payment, then went outside with the bundle and mounted. Mr. Wheatley, on looking at the note, saw that it consisted of two different halves joined together. Immediately suspecting the character of his visitors, he ran outside, and showing the note to the man, who had the bundle, he pointed out the error. The man replied, taking the note, “Well, you won’t get any other,”, and the two rode off. Mr. Wheatley, however, made a snatch at the bundle and secured it. No arms were seen on either of the men, but these might easily have been concealed by their coats, and if it was two of the three bushrangers, the third, we may be sure, was with the other horses, and guns, not far distant in the bush.

Since the preceding was written, we have heard that the gang were seen at the back of the Governor’s’ Hill, near Boxer’s Creek, about 11 o’clock on Wednesday after the mail was robbed, which would lead probably to the supposition that they were at Collector that evening.

Goulburn Argus


ROBBERY OF THE YASS MAIL.

YESTERDAY morning at half past eight o’clock the mail from Yass, Young, Tumut, Albury, &c., an unusually heavy one, was stuck up by Hall, Gilbert and Dunn, about a mile on the Gunning side of Mr, T. J. Lodge’s, on the Breadalbane Plains, some sixteen miles from Goulburn.

There was only one passenger in the coach a Mr. William Dawson, a messenger in the Insolvent Court. From him they took his watch, a silver one, Gilbert saying be wanted one. Thinking from the appearance and costume of Mr. Dawson — he being dressed in dark blue, and wearing high boots — that he was, a member of the police force, they searched him closely for firearms, and it was only on production of his warrant as insolvency messenger, that they believed his assertions that he was in no ways connected with the “blues.” This time they did not oblige the driver to take the coach off the road, nor did they examine the letters there; but all of the bags were opened, and the letters, thrust indiscriminately into a couple of bags, which were strapped on in front of their saddles and took away with them. Hall was mounted on one of Mr. Rossi’s bays, Dunn on the same gentleman’s grey, and Gilbert on a very dark iron grey. Having taken what they wanted, they told Thomas Jenkins, the coachman, to drive on to Lodge’s, where they also went. There they treated all hands, including six or seven men belonging to a road party, and Gilbert, in payment, threw down a one pound note, declining to take any change. In reply to a question whether they had not been at Collector on Wednesday evening, Hall said “No, the fellows there were two chaps in our employ, whom we give £3 10s. a week to, and in six months’ time they can go on their own hook.” In all probability, however, the two men at Collector were part of the gang. When the news of this last mail robbery reached town, it did not cause the slightest astonishment, as everyone had been expecting to hear of another outrage ere the week was out. The bushrangers are evidently intending to pay frequent visits to this district. Mail robberies are already a constant occurrence, and no doubt, when it is seen that they can be accomplished with such ease, and that they go where they like with but with little chance of interference from the police, these robberies will become even more frequent. Respecting the movements of the police, all we can say is that “they are out.”

Yesterday afternoon, between one and two o’clock the bushrangers were seen at Mummell; going apparently in the direction of Laggan. — Goulburn Argus.