The Third Epoch of Bushranging; the Gold Digging Era; Influx of
Convicts from Van Diemen's Land; Passing of the Criminals' Influx
Prevention Act; Attitude of the Diggers Towards the Bushrangers, and
Other Thieves; The Nelson Gold Robbery; Some Pitiful Stories; A Rapid
Raid; Insecurity of the Melbourne Streets.
Before entering upon the next stage in the story of the bushrangers,
it may be advisable to say something of the vast change which suddenly
took place in the conditions in Australia about this time. In 1842-3
the colony of New South Wales was plunged into a financial crisis,
about which it is unnecessary to say much here, but from which the
colony was only beginning to recover in 1851. Wages were still very
low, and numbers of men were out of work. In April, 1851, the news that
gold had been discovered at Summerhill Creek, in the Bathurst district,
roused something like a ferment in the colony. Men employed in Sydney
threw down their tools to "go to the diggings." There was a general
exodus from the coast cities and towns to the ranges, then considered
far away in the interior. Wages jumped from about one shilling per day
for labour to ten or more, meat rose from one penny per pound, for the
best cuts, to sixpence. The roads leading to Orange, the Turon, and
other early goldfields in New South Wales, were thronged by men, either
going to the diggings to seek their fortune, or returning disappointed.
In July, 1851, the Port Phillip district of New South Wales was erected
into the independent colony of Victoria, and in August the news that
gold had been struck in the Ballarat district of the newly-established
colony turned the tide of gold-seekers in that direction. The police
establishment, with which the new colony started, was merely that
of an outlying district of a huge sparsely-populated colony, and was
wholly inadequate to the requirements.
There were two gaols in the colony; one at Melbourne, the other at
Geelong; neither of them very large. The Geelong gaol, in fact, was
little more than a lock-up, and it was only within the past two years
that the gaol had been enclosed within a high wall. In 1850 it stood
out on the hill, a short distance from the banks of the Barwon River,
an ordinary-looking brick building, with the Governor's House and
other offices grouped near it, and all opening out directly on the
level flat which stretched from the top of the banks of the Barwon
River to the hill on which the main portion of the town of Geelong was
situated. On the top of this hill, the last building in that direction,
in "old Geelong"--as it was called, although it had only been founded
about twelve years before--was the court house, and there was no other
building along Yarra Street, on the southern side of the hill and
across the little flat (a distance altogether of about half-a-mile)
until the gaol was reached. The Melbourne gaol stood on what was
then the boundary of the city of Melbourne. It was a larger and more
imposing building than the Geelong gaol, but still wholly inadequate
for the requirements; and therefore one of the first duties of the
Legislative Council of the new colony was to provide accommodation
for evil doers, who could no longer be sent to the gaols of Sydney to
serve out their terms of punishment. This was done by the establishment
of "stockades" at Collingwood and Pentridge, both near Melbourne,
and the purchase of two old trading vessels, the _President_ and the
_Success_, in September, 1852, to be converted into convict hulks for
the safe keeping of the more desperate of the malefactors. Subsequently
three other hulks were added to the list, and these were in use for
many years after large prisons had been erected at Melbourne, Geelong,
Ballarat, Bendigo, and other centres of population.
Looking back from the present time it appears to me that the Colonial
Office was guilty of a serious tactical blunder in appointing Mr.
Charles Joseph Latrobe, as the first Governor of Victoria. He had been
appointed Resident Magistrate, or Superintendent, of the Port Phillip
District in 1839; and, during the agitation for the separation of that
district from the huge colony of which it was a part, Mr. Latrobe, very
naturally perhaps, did all that he could to prevent the inhabitants
from gaining their end. As a consequence, he was perhaps the best
hated man that has ever lived in Australia. He was usually called "the
Governor's poodle," and was denounced in no measured terms by the
advocates of separation. When that was carried, and Mr. Latrobe became
Lieutenant Governor, his harsh treatment of the diggers nearly drove
them into rebellion. This is not the place to give the history of the
Ballarat riot, but some reference to it is necessary. A most exorbitant
licence fee was imposed on all residents on proclaimed goldfields,
and this tax was collected in a most arbitrary and brutal manner.
There were no gaols nor lock-ups on the diggings at the time, and men
arrested for all sorts of offences--murder, bushranging, stealing, or
the non-payment of licence fees--were simply fastened with handcuffs
to a bullock chain attached to a tree stump by a huge staple. Later
some boxes, made of corrugated iron, were put up as cells and these
were known as "the Dutch ovens," or "the sardine boxes," and prisoners
confined in them on hot summer nights suffered tortures, and begged
to be put "on the chain" as a relief. Mr. Latrobe, therefore, soon
came to be as cordially hated by the new comers as he had been by the
older inhabitants of the district. But whatever may be said as to the
harshness of his treatment of the gold diggers, the efforts he made
to check the lawlessness rampant in the colony cannot be too highly
commended. He and the Legislative Council organised a fine body of
police in a very short time. The horse police were as well-disciplined
and mounted as any similar body in any part of the world, but allowing
for their efficiency, it would have been impossible for them to repress
lawlessness so rapidly and completely as they did, had they not been
assisted by the attitude of the general public. I may be wrong perhaps,
but it has always appeared to me that the antagonism between the free
and the convict elements in the population of which I have already
spoken was continued long after the abolition of the convict system,
and even passed on to those who landed in the country during the rush
to the diggings. There was a general tendency at the time to credit
all sorts of misdeeds to the convicts. No doubt, among the enormous
crowds which landed in Victoria in the early years of the rush to the
diggings, there was a fair admixture of rough and reckless characters
who were not convicts, but it was the custom to assume that all crimes
were committed by the "old hands," and that any man arrested for any
criminal offence had been "sent out." Thus, when Mr. Lachlan M'Lachlan
was appointed police magistrate of Bendigo, he merely expressed openly
the opinion held by other magistrates, and the public generally, when
he declared that nearly all thefts were perpetrated by "old hands."
He asserted that he could distinguish a convict from a free man at
a glance. He would order the police to make the prisoner walk down
the court, and would exclaim: "Turn him round again, sergeant. Ah!
I thought so! I can see the marks of the irons on his legs."[37] By
which he meant that the man had acquired a sort of limp through wearing
irons, and that he could detect it. All such men were sent to gaol for
six or twelve months, not so much for the crime or offence with which
they stood charged, as because they were ex-convicts. And generally
the public endorsed this apparent injustice. "It's a pity we ain't got
more magistrates like Bendigo Mac," was an expression frequently heard
in all parts of the colony. It is not impossible that the fashion of
crediting all crimes and offences to convicts, however unjust it may
have been, tended to prevent others from committing crimes. Whether
this was so or not, it is certain that the diggers, rough and careless
as the majority of them were, steadily set their faces, as a class,
against crime, and never hesitated, even during the height of their
dispute with the authorities, to hand over to the police any person
detected in stealing. Probably they were forced into this attitude in
self-defence. The diggings were merely huge camps, everybody living
in tents or "houses" made of wooden rafters and uprights, covered
with calico or canvas. Even the big hotels and theatres were calico
structures. It was so easy for an evil-disposed person to rip open a
tent and thrust his hand under the pillow or into any other place where
he thought gold might be concealed. But such thefts, although numerous,
constituted only a minority of the crimes committed on the goldfields.
All round were holes twenty or thirty feet deep, and the paths from one
part of the field to another wound in and out between these holes, so
that it was dangerous for a stranger in the locality to travel about
after dark. In such a place it was so easy to stab a man and throw
his body down a hole that the very facilities offered operated as a
temptation to murder. Scarcely a day passed without a body being found
murdered and rifled, and thus a peculiar sort of morality was developed
on the diggings, and the diggers, while resisting the police, jeering
at them and showing their hatred of them in every possible way, still
assisted them in capturing thieves and other criminals. It was the
custom to call public meetings for political and other purposes, by
sending men to all the various camps each carrying a tin dish. These
heralds would beat their tin dishes and yell, "Roll up! roll up!"
Frequently a "roll up" was called for the purpose of organising a party
to hunt down thieves or other evil-doers, and very soon the "roll up"
carried terror through the ranks of tent thieves and other robbers.
Sometimes the delinquent when caught was cuffed and beaten and ordered
off the diggings on pain of death, but, as a rule, he was marched to
the police camp, popularly known as "The Camp," and handed over for
trial. It was perhaps because of this attitude of the diggers, that
"Lynch law" did not become an institution in Victoria, as it had in
California. On more than one occasion, it was proposed that thieves,
robbers, and murderers should be summarily dealt with by their captors,
but such resolutions were not endorsed at the "rolls up"; although, on
more than one occasion, it was said that if the Government could not
protect the diggers from bushrangers, the diggers would have to protect
themselves. Some of the old names, now rapidly disappearing, record
the character which the neighbourhood once bore. Thus "Murderer's
Flat," the old name of a portion of the Mount Alexander Goldfield,
is almost forgotten. The flat is now a portion of the pretty little
mining and agricultural town of Castlemaine. It was the custom here
in the "roaring fifties," for the diggers to fire off their guns and
pistols every night after sundown, and ostentatiously reload them, as
a caution that any person seen prowling round the tents during the
night would be shot without further notice. In many of the outlying
gullies on the Bendigo and Ballarat Goldfields the same ceremony was
performed nightly. Beyond the limits of the goldfields the roads were
infested by footpads and bushrangers, who hated the diggers for their
antagonism to their class. To these the digger was fair game. It was
popularly supposed that these bushrangers were all convicts from "Van
Diemen's Land," hence they were known as "Van Demonians," "Derwenters"
from the River Derwent, and "Tother siders." The newspapers were full
of references to their doings. The _Geelong Advertiser_ of June 2nd,
1851, warned the public that "large numbers of men--half bushranger,
half gold-seeker--are travelling along the roads, especially the Sydney
road, robbing all who are unprotected." These were said to be Van
Demonians who had landed in Geelong or Melbourne, and who were making
their way to the goldfields of New South Wales. In the same month the
_Melbourne Herald_ published several articles calling the attention of
the authorities to the large "influx of Van Diemen's Land expirees who
are thronging into Port Phillip." These "villains," it was said, were
travelling along all the roads which led to the diggings on the Sydney
side, and lived by plundering honest travellers. On June 23rd the mail
coach was bailed up at Bruce's Creek, between Portland and Geelong. The
coach, with three passengers on board, was going down the hill to the
crossing-place, when two men stepped from behind gum trees, presented
their pistols, and cried "Bail up." The driver, William Freere, instead
of complying, began to flog his horses, but before they could respond
their heads were seized by one of the bushrangers, while the other put
his pistol to Freere's head, and threatened to blow his brains out.
The coach was taken some distance off the road, and its occupants were
tied to trees. The robbers went very leisurely through the letters, and
when all that was of value had been abstracted one of the bushrangers
took a saddle and bridle belonging to one of the passengers (Mr. Thomas
Gibson) and set it aside with the remark, "Ah, this is just what I
wanted." This bushranger was dressed "in a black suit of fashionable
cut, and wore black kid gloves." He was afterwards identified as Owen
Suffolk, while his companion was Christopher Farrell. Suffolk took one
of the coach-horses, put the saddle and bridle on, and mounted. Farrell
jumped on the other horse barebacked. The tied men begged hard to be
let loose, offering to swear that they would not give information to
the police, or move from the spot until their captors were away, but
their supplications were only laughed at. The road was at that time but
little frequented, and the next mail, which might possibly be the first
vehicle to pass, would not come for a week. Moreover, they were out of
sight of the road. The struggle to get free was therefore a struggle
for life, and it was a severe one. Mr. Gibson was the first to get one
hand loose. After this the rest was comparatively easy. In less than an
hour they were all free, and they walked straight to the township at
Bruce's Creek to tell the police. The robbers were caught in Geelong a
day or two later. Suffolk was strolling along the beach near the wharf,
and Farrell was found in a boarding-house not far away. They were
sentenced to ten years' penal servitude, the first three in irons.
James Mason and John Browne, two diggers, were sitting at their camp
at Bendigo having supper, when a man named William Scott passed along,
going towards the "township." They invited him to "sit down and have a
feed," as he looked tired, and he did so. But while eating he slipped
his hand under the edge of the tent and took out a bag containing 110
ounces of gold. The gold was missed before he was out of sight, and he
was followed immediately and captured. He was taken to "the camp," and
subsequently sent to gaol for five years.
On January 28, 1852, the _Melbourne Herald_ reported that "a gang of
Vandemonians have kept the road between Bendigo and Eaglehawk Gully for
three days, robbing all who passed." The police were sent out and the
gang was broken up. One was shot and three others traced to Halliday's
Inn at Kyneton, where they were captured. They had thirty-three pounds
weight of gold in their possession, and were taken on to Melbourne for
trial.
Such reports were so frequent that the Legislative Council was
compelled to take action, and as a consequence the Act known as the
Criminals' Influx Prevention Act (18 Vic., No. 3) was passed in
November. This Act was specially designed to keep ex-convicts out
of the colony. It was impossible to prevent those from New South
Wales from crossing the Murray River, but it no doubt checked the
influx of the more desperate criminals from Van Diemen's Land, where
transportation was continued for many years after it had ceased to New
South Wales. But although the Act prevented ex-convicts from landing
at Victorian ports it could not prevent them landing at Sydney or
Adelaide and walking overland to the Victorian diggings. In spite of
this, however, the Act was undoubtedly very efficacious in checking
the landing of criminally-minded persons. There were, however, so many
in the colony previously to the passing of the Act that the police had
plenty of employment in hunting them down.
On February 6th, Corporal Harvey, of the mounted police, was searching
some boxes at the Police Barracks, Buninyong, to ascertain whether
they contained gold. A man named Goldman threatened to shoot him if he
touched his box. The trooper simply replied "I must do my duty," and
opened the box. Goldman shot him at once. This crime was a purposeless
one. The trooper had been ordered to remove gold from all boxes left
at the station so that it might be sent down to Geelong by escort. The
only excuse which can be made for Goldman is that the diggers were very
sensitive where their gold was concerned and were also very ready to
protect it even at the risk of murder. But the boxes were left there
in charge of the police, and any man who objected to his box being
searched had no right to take it there. However, Goldman was convicted
of murder and hung.
On February 23rd, Elliott Aitchison, a squatter, was robbed near
Buninyong. The robber took horse, saddle, bridle, saddle-bags, watch, a
bill of exchange for £30, and some money. The bushranger was identified
as a man named Edward Melville, who had been working for a neighbouring
squatter, Mr. Winter, of Winter's Flat, and was well known in the
district. A reward of £30 was offered for his apprehension.
The ship _Nelson_ arrived at Geelong from London in March, 1852, where
she landed her passengers and cargo and took on board some cargo for
her return voyage. She was then taken round to Hobson's Bay to fill
up. On the night of April 1st she was lying off Liardet's Beach, near
where the South Melbourne pier now stands. There were on board Mr.
Draper, the mate in charge, Mr. Davis, second officer of the _Royal
George_ lying at anchor near, three seamen, three passengers, and the
cook. At about two a.m. they were roused by loud calls, and as each one
came out of his cabin to ascertain what the row was about he was seized
and lashed to the bulwarks. When all had been secured the robber who
appeared to be leader untied Mr. Draper and ordered him to show where
the gold was. The mate refused. The robber fired and wounded him in
the side. He then threatened to shoot him dead next time he refused.
Another of the gang prodded Mr. Draper behind with a sword, and,
realising that resistance was useless, he led the way to the lazarette.
The door was soon broken down, and twenty-three boxes containing 8183
oz. of gold, valued at about £25,000, were taken out and carried on
deck. "I say, mates," exclaimed the leader, "this is the best----
diggings we've seen yet." The boxes were lowered over the vessel's side
into boats, and then the men tied to the bulwarks were unloosed, their
hands tied behind them, and they were marched into the lazarette. The
entrance was closed up with the broken boards nailed across. When the
stevedore and his men arrived some hours later to go on with their work
the prisoners in the lazarette were released, and information was given
to the police. The robbers were said to have numbered about twenty. A
search proved that two of Mr. Liardet's boats had been removed from
their moorings. They were found far away along the beach, and it was
conjectured that these boats had been used by the robbers. A reward was
offered by the Government of £250 for the capture and conviction of the
robbers, and this was supplemented by a further reward of £500 offered
by Messrs. Jackson, Rae & Co., the consigners of the gold. Within a few
days John James, alias Johnston, was arrested in Melbourne, and shortly
afterwards James Morgan and James Duncan were found at the Ocean Child
Inn, Williamstown. They were in bed, and when the police entered the
room Morgan exclaimed: "If we'd known you was---- traps we'd a' blown
your ---- brains out." When taken to the lock-up he said: "We may be
sentenced, but we'll live to dance on your ---- grave, and have 2000
a nob to ride in our carriages." At the trial it was said that they
had been concerned in several highway robberies on the Keilor Plains
and in the Black Forest, but these cases were not gone into. They were
convicted of having stolen the gold from the _Nelson_, and sentenced to
fifteen years' hard labour, the first three in irons.
The winter of 1852 was an exceptionally severe one, and snow fell
heavily in the ranges. A bullock driver who was looking for his
bullocks near Buninyong was bailed up by three armed men. Although it
was snowing at the time they stripped him and tied him to a tree while
they searched his clothes. Finding only about five shillings in his
pockets they cast him loose, gave him his clothes and money, with the
remark that they thought he "was a---- digger from Ballarat." A few
miles further along the road they met a party of real diggers and took
from them 8 oz. of gold and an escort receipt for 84 oz. more.
Such robberies as these were reported daily on the roads round
Ballarat, Bendigo, and Mount Alexander. Perhaps the worst places were
the Stoney Rises, on the road from Geelong to Ballarat, and the Black
Forest, between Melbourne and Mount Alexander. But the conditions even
in Melbourne were not much better than elsewhere. On August 6, 1852, a
digger who had just returned from Bendigo was knocked down in Little
Collins Street, Melbourne, and the pocket of his trousers cut out.
He, however, lost only a few shillings, while the robbers missed 3lb.
weight of gold which he held clutched in his hand.
Judge Barry and Mr. Wrixon, the barrister, left the Supreme Court House
together on August 11, at about half-past eight p.m. When they were
near St Francis' R.C. Church, Lonsdale Street, they heard a shout for
help. Ploughing through the deep mud they stampeded three robbers who
had got a man down in the gutter. At that time the streets of Melbourne
were not paved as they are now and the judge and the barrister nearly
got bogged while pulling the digger out of the mud hole in which he was
nearly smothered. The robbers escaped, but the digger found his gold
safe.
Mr. John Scraggs was going home to his house in Richmond one evening.
When passing a corner near his own residence he received a blow on
the head and fell stunned. When he recovered consciousness his watch,
chain, ring, and purse had disappeared. The next day he purchased a
revolver, loaded it carefully, and carried it in his hand ready for
use as he went home. He was specially vigilant when he approached the
corner where he had been knocked down before. Probably he was rather
too vigilant on one side. However that may be, he received a blow on
the other side which "stretched" him again. That time the robbers only
got a revolver, and Mr. Scraggs swore that they should get no more
firearms from him.
It was about this time that the _Melbourne Herald_ reported a case of
a captain of a vessel lying in Hobson's Bay. The captain had been to
the theatre and was walking to Liardet's Beach to get a boat to take
him on board his ship, when he was knocked down in Flinders Street and
dragged into a right-of-way. Here he was stripped stark naked and left
insensible. It was early morning when he regained his senses. After
some hesitation he walked towards an hotel, hoping to be able to borrow
some clothes there, but he was pounced on by a vigilant policeman and
taken off to the lock-up. His story was not believed and he was taken
into court and charged with "indecent behaviour," which was adding
insult to injury, and the magistrate remanded him till next morning,
to allow enquiries to be made, bail being refused. Later on, when it
was ascertained that he really was the captain of a vessel, he was
discharged. The _Herald_ cited this as an instance of the vagaries of
police magistrates, and charged the police with being unable to protect
the public against robbers.
But to return to the knights of the road. A pitiful story was told of
an old man and his son who had left their work in Melbourne, and gone
to the diggings to "make their pile." They were unsuccessful, like
a good many more, and started to walk back to Melbourne, to return
to their ordinary work. They were bailed up on the edge of the Black
Forest. The bushrangers refused to believe that they had no gold. It
was a stale trick, they said, to throw a bag of gold behind a log and
swear they hadn't got any, and then go back and pick it up, when the
bushrangers had gone away. It was in vain that the old man swore that
he had had no gold to throw away. One of the bushrangers compelled
him to hold out his hand and fired a bullet through the palm. As he
continued to declare he had no gold the bushranger was about to shoot
through the palm of the other hand, when the boy made a rush at him and
was shot dead by the other bushranger. The old man was then allowed
to go on his sorrowful way. Bushranging was the common subject of
conversation. Little else was talked of, and even the children played
bushranger. Two young lads, who were old enough to know better, thought
it would be good fun to "stick up" their father. He was a farmer living
on the Barrabool Hills, about eight or nine miles from Geelong. He went
into town with some produce and was returning at nightfall when, at
about half a-mile from his own gateway, he was ordered to "bail up" by
two persons on horseback. Without hesitation he snatched up a gun from
the bottom of the dray and fired. One of the bushrangers fell and the
other cried out "Oh, father, you've shot Johnny! We were only in fun."
It was too late. The father's aim had been too sure and the boy was
taken home to his mother dead.
On October 24th, 1852, Henry Johnston, John Finegan, John Donovan,
Charles Bowe, and John Baylie, known as the Eureka gang, were tried
for highway robbery in Melbourne. William Cook said he was riding from
Melbourne to Bendigo, on August 4th, when near Aitken's Gap he was
bailed up by Finegan and Donovan. Three other men sat on their horses
some distance away along the road, but did not interfere. One of the
bushrangers held a pistol to his head, while the other stripped him
naked and searched his clothes. He also felt him all over, under the
armpits and elsewhere. They took £2 14S. and a pistol from him. Finegan
wanted to take everything, but Donovan would not agree to that, but
gave him back his clothes. Then he returned one of the £1 notes and
the fourteen shillings in silver. Wesley Anderson identified Baylie
and Donovan as the two men who had robbed him on a Sunday in August,
near Buninyong. The proceedings were very similar to those in the first
case. All the other prisoners were identified in a similar way by other
witnesses. The robberies were effected over a wide range of country,
and were all of a similar character. When asked what they had to say
in defence, one of the prisoners asked the Judge whether he thought
they were crows? "Here's one man," he continued, "says we stuck him up
at Aitken's Gap, another at the Porcupine, another near Mount Egerton,
and others at other places, and the police says they caught us in the
Crown Hotel, Buninyong. Why, your Honour, horses couldn't get over the
ground in the time." The jury, however, seemed to have formed a better
opinion of the power of the bushrangers' horses than the bushranger
himself. Perhaps this was due to the fact that some of them at least
had exchanged horses with their victims. However that may be, they were
all found guilty. Finegan and Donovan, who appeared to have been the
leaders, and to have taken part in the majority of the robberies, were
sent to gaol for twelve years, and the others for six years each.
The Geelong mail was stuck up in December, 1852, between the old Burial
Ground and the Flagstaff Hill, now in the very heart of Melbourne. The
robbers took watches, rings, and money from the passengers, but did not
dismount from their horses nor interfere with the mail bags. Probably
it was too close to the city.
On December 26th two diggers returning to Melbourne were robbed near
Keilor by three armed men on horseback, who took a large parcel of gold
dust and an escort receipt for more. On the same day a man was brutally
beaten on the Sydney road, about fifteen miles from Melbourne, and
robbed of his watch, some gold specimens and nuggets, and his money.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 37: "Mr. Lachlan McLachlan, or 'Bendigo Mac,' as he was more
familiarly styled, administered the law with a vigour and severity
which brought upon him censure from many quarters ... but 'desperate
evils require desperate remedies.' ... When an old hand happened to be
among the prisoners, he would be terrified by the fierce reprobation
of 'Bendigo Mac,' or by the glare which shot from that inevitable
eyeglass.... At other times he would say to a prisoner, 'This district
is not big enough for both you and me. One of us must leave--which
shall it be?' The prisoner would feel, of course, that there was very
little doubt about the matter, and would promise to make himself
scarce, requesting probably a couple of days' grace to wash up a bit of
washdirt." "History of Bendigo," by George Mackay, chap. III.]