The New Bushranging Era; Fallacy of the Belief that Highwaymen Rob
the Rich to Enrich the Poor; The Cattle Duffers and Horse Planters;
The Riot at the Lambing Flat; Frank Gardiner, the Butcher; Charged
with Obtaining Beasts "on the cross," he Abandons his Butcher's Shop;
Efforts to Establish a Reign of Terror in the District; A Letter from
Gardiner; The Great Escort Robbery.
Hitherto the bushrangers of Australia had been, as the records prove,
drawn almost exclusively from the ranks of those who "left their
country for their country's good." Those who took the most prominent
share in the next outbreak of the "epidemic" were generally native-born
Australians. The _sequelæ_ of the old disease were not yet worked
out. As I have already said, there were numbers of the "old hands"
scattered about the bush, some of them with farms or small cattle or
sheep stations of their own who lived fairly honest and useful lives,
but even among these, whatever may have been their station in life,
there was the old antagonism to "law and order," and their sympathies
were all with those who waged war against society. Their children
imbibed these ideas, and wherever there was a neighbourhood where
this class had collected together, morality was at a low ebb. But
besides these settlers there were numbers of nomads, men who worked
as shepherds, bullock-drivers, splitters and fencers, shearers, and
so on, and as long as the old hands formed a majority, or even a
considerable minority of the bush-workers, it was the custom for men to
work from shearing to shearing, or from harvest to harvest, and then
"draw their cheques," make for the nearest public-house, and indulge
in a wild spree, until they were informed by the landlord that the
money which their cheques represented had been expended. There were
some respectable inns in the back country where they got fair value
for their money perhaps, but in too many of these "bush pubs," as
they were called, the object of the landlord was to "lamb them down"
in the shortest possible space of time. Perhaps when the character
of the liquor sold in these places is taken into consideration, this
method of cheating was not altogether an evil. It prevented the bushmen
from swallowing such large quantities of the deleterious stuff as
they might have done if they had received full value for their money.
During the time when they were working their principal mode of amusing
themselves was telling or listening to tales of the convict days.
Some of these stories told by the old hands were of too revolting a
character for repetition, but no doubt they were founded on fact.
Nothing is too horrible or obscene to have been true of the convict
times. The stories, however, which appear to have had the greatest
influence over the minds of a certain class of Australian youth were
those told of the bushrangers. In these stories there was of course
much that was apocryphal, to put it mildly. Many of the exploits of the
historic highwaymen of old were told as actual facts in the careers of
some Australian bushrangers, with just sufficient variation to adapt
them to local purposes. One of the ancient superstitions introduced
into Australia by these story-tellers was that the highwaymen robbed
the rich to give to the poor. I have no desire to raise any doubts as
to the generosity and benevolence of Robin Hood, but I can find no
evidence of any such beneficence on the part of any of the Australian
bushrangers. No doubt they got their money easily, and spent it
recklessly. But they did not pause to enquire whether the person they
robbed was rich or poor. There was no such class distinction in the
colonies as there is and always has been in England; no very poor
class not worth robbing and ready to bless anyone who gave them a
penny, and no hereditary wealthy class. Every one had to work somehow
for his living, though some were more successful in piling up wealth
than others. But the poor had opportunities which have never existed
in England, and if they neglected them it was more or less their own
fault if they were poor. The tendency in Australia, as elsewhere, is
to build up a wealthy class, but this class did not exist in convict
times, and is only just beginning to appear now. The Australian
bushranger in fact had to obtain money or go under. He was compelled to
share his ill-gotten gains with those who supplied him with food and
information. He was a mark for the blackmailer, and he was compelled to
find money to bribe those who were in a position to lead the troops or
the police to his hiding place. But the convict bushranger was not so
well off as the native-born bushranger. There was a strong feeling of
camaraderie, an _esprit de corps_, among the convicts, which tended to
prevent numbers of men from betraying him, even though they received no
bribes. But the new bushranger was more fortunate than the old one. He
had his parents, his brothers and sisters, his cousins and his aunts
and uncles, who sympathised with him for family and other reasons,
and who were bound to help him. It was from among these relatives and
friends that the "bush telegraphs," who informed the bushranger of the
whereabouts of the police, were drawn, and it soon became apparent
that if bushranging was to be abolished these sympathisers and "bush
telegraphs" must be dealt with.
There were several localities in New South Wales where the conditions
were favourable for bushranging; places where the morality was low and
where the police, as representatives of authority, were hated with
all the hatred of the "old hand." One of these localities was in the
spurs of the Great Dividing Range, in the neighbourhood of Burrowa.
All round this district were a number of small squatters, principally
cattle breeders, and among these no man's beast was safe. These small
squatters were the terror of the big sheep and cattle breeders in
the plains, and their principal industry was "duffing." Duffing was
not stealing. If a moralist had remonstrated with a Burrowa man whom
he found branding his neighbour's beast, the Burrowa man would have
replied "I'm only trying to get back my own. He's duffed many a head
of my cattle." Sheep could be duffed as well as cattle, but the ranges
were generally too steep for sheep. One sheep breeder of the district,
however, adopted, as his distinguishing mark, the plan of cutting off
both ears, and he was a most successful duffer, because his recognised
ear-mark enabled him to remove the ear-marks in his neighbours' sheep.
It was no uncommon occurrence for a man to find that a calf sucking
his cow had been branded by one of his neighbours, so that it might be
claimed as soon as it was weaned. In such a case, if he had complained,
his neighbour would probably have accused him of having "mothered" the
neighbour's calf on his cow for the purpose of cheating him out of it.
In such a neighbourhood it was impossible for any stranger to travel
with horses with any degree of safety. Horses bred in the district
could be duffed like sheep or cattle, and horses travelling through
could be "planted." If a man, who knew anything of the characteristics
of the settlers in this district, camped for the night there, and
failed to find his horses next morning, he did not waste time in
looking for them himself. He realised at once that one of "the boys"
had driven them off into some inaccessible ravine in the ranges, and
"planted" or hidden them there until a reward should be offered for
their recovery. He would therefore go to the nearest station and
enquire whether his horses had been seen. The answer would be "No."
Then the traveller would say that he was willing to pay "a note"
for their recovery. The reply of the native would probably be that
horses always went astray about there. There was such a get-away for
them, and the warrigals came down and enticed them off. The story of
the warrigals, or wild horses, tempting working horses away was a
common fiction. Hobbled horses could not keep up with the warrigals
across the ridges. But it was sufficiently plausible to serve. If the
working horses broke their hobbles they might perhaps go with the wild
horses, but even then it is uncertain. However, after a few minutes'
conversation, the native would probably say that if any one could
find the horses it was "Jack the Kid," or some other local character,
as he knew every gully in the ridges. The wideawake traveller could
understand that "Jack the Kid" was the man who had planted his horses,
and would not return them for less than "a note," that is £1, and on
this reward for villainy being promised the traveller might go to
his camp with the certainty that the horses would be brought to him
in about an hour. It would be useless to look for them, because the
planter would be on the watch, and if the owner was seen approaching
the gully where they were the horses would be driven over the ridge
into the next gully. Cases have happened where a traveller has
persisted in refusing to be blackmailed and has lost his horses. It
would be only necessary to cut the hobbles. Then the traveller, if he
wanted his horses, would have to engage two or three expert stockmen to
run them in. It was useless to complain to the police. The horses had
not been stolen. They were there. Let the owner come and fetch them.
Nobody would prevent him and some kind settler would even offer the use
of his stockyard if the owner could drive them into it.
This was the state of the district when the rush to the
newly-discovered Lambing Flat goldfield took place in 1860. Early in
the following year there was a great "roll up" of the diggers to drive
the Chinese off the field, and the military were sent up from Sydney to
restore order. In this riot the peculiar morality of the diggers, of
which I have already spoken, was illustrated in a remarkable degree.
The leaders of the riots strictly forbade robbery, and any person found
stealing gold or any other property from the Chinese was to be handed
over to the police; but burning the humpies, tents, and other property
of the unfortunate Chinkies, cutting off their pigtails, beating or
otherwise ill-treating them, as an inducement for them to leave the
field, were justifiable if not meritorious acts. In after years many of
the "flash diggers" wore sashes made of Chinamen's pigtails, sometimes
with just as much of the scalp attached as would prevent the hairs
from scattering. However, the riots did not last long and the leader,
William Spicer, was sent to gaol.
There were, of course, many of the young men of the district in the
goldfields and, as far as is known, these conformed to the rules
laid down by the diggers with regard to property. But this did not
affect their own peculiar notions as to the ownership of cattle,
sheep, or horses, and the attention of the police was early drawn to
the district. Warrants were soon issued for numbers of the youths on
charges of horse or cattle stealing, and several were arrested. Later
it was said that many young fellows, who might have remained at home,
were "driven on to the roads" by the police. That is to say that,
because they were interfered with in their favourite amusements of
duffing and planting, they turned bushrangers.
Among the residents on the diggings was Frank Gardiner, who opened
a butcher's shop on Wombat Flat. Gardiner was born at Boro Creek,
near Tarago, in the heart of the district in which Jackey Jackey
had first won his notoriety as a bushranger, and the morals of that
district were very similar to those I have described as prevalent in
the Burrowa district. Gardiner went to the diggings in Victoria in
the "Fifties," was arrested near Ballarat, and tried at Geelong for
horse-stealing. He was sent to gaol for five years. He escaped from
the Pentridge stockade and returned home. Shortly afterwards he was
convicted of horse-stealing at Goulburn and sentenced to seven years'
imprisonment on two charges, the sentences being made concurrent. He
served half the term and was granted a ticket-of-leave. His butcher's
shop at Burrangong, to give the diggings its proper name, was said
to be the resort of all the worst characters among the young natives
of the district, and the majority of the beasts he slaughtered and
sold were said to be obtained "on the cross." Becoming aware that a
warrant had been issued for his arrest he abandoned his shop and took
to the mountains. Here he organised a band of bushrangers, and shortly
afterwards reports of people being stuck up and robbed on the roads
round the diggings became frequent.
In 1861 the young Australian had not taken to cricket and football
so enthusiastically as he did later, and perhaps there were few
opportunities for him to get rid of his superfluous energy. Whether
this is so or not, it is certain that Gardiner's example had an
enormous influence. Not only were those against whom warrants had
been issued for cattle and horse-stealing ready to join the gang,
but numbers of young men and lads who had hitherto led blameless
lives became so excited that they turned out and tried their hands at
bushranging.
The first robberies were in the immediate neighbourhood of Burrangong,
but very soon the area over which the bushrangers operated was
enlarged, and finally embraced the whole colony, and even overflowed
into the neighbouring colonies. At first, however, Gardiner and his
gang claim our attention, but there were many young men who began as
independent bushrangers who made their way to the Burrangong district
to join the gang, and others who intended to do so who were captured
on the road. It is a difficult matter to decide who did and who did
not belong to this gang, as the _personnel_ changed so rapidly. Some
actual members of the gang acted independently of it for a time, and
made raids into other districts, while others, after having a flutter
with Gardiner, left the gang to start elsewhere. The bushrangers did
not confine their attentions to travellers on the roads. They robbed
whenever and wherever an opportunity occurred. Thus on August 19th,
1861, Henry Keene, Michael Lawler, and William Watson went to Mr.
Brennan's station, on the Billabong, and called out "All hands in, or
we'll blow your brains out." Mr. and Mrs. Brennan and a number of men
who were working at the station were gathered about the verandah of the
house smoking and talking. Mrs. Brennan cried out in alarm, "They're
going to shoot." James Laurie, one of the men, replied, "Let them shoot
away." However, the men went inside, as they were told, and Lawler
dismounted and followed them. Keene took his place as sentry at the
door, and Watson remained on horseback outside. Laurie said to Lawler,
"You're the man that was looking for a gray mare." "What if I was?
What is it to you?" returned Lawler. Laurie picked up a big stick from
the fire and made a blow at Lawler, when a shot was fired, presumably
either by Keene or Watson, and Laurie fell. He cried out for water, and
Mrs. Brennan told her little daughter to go out and fetch a glassful,
but Lawler would not permit her to leave the room. Lawler was very
violent. He threatened to shoot any one who opposed him, and to "put
a firestick to the house" if Mrs. Brennan did not give him her money.
One of the bushrangers went to a hawker named Isaac Lavendale, camped
close by, and made him go into the house. Lavendale gave the wounded
man some milk and spilt some on his face. He said, "I'm dying--don't
let them--don't let----" and then he died. Keene fired a ball through
the roof of the house and said: "I---- quick took the flashness out
of that man. He won't be so flash again." The robbers collected all
the money they could, and took clothes and other articles from the
hawker's cart. The robbers were subsequently captured by the police,
and on March 23rd, 1862, were convicted at Goulburn and sentenced to
death. Sir Alfred Stephen told them to prepare to meet their God, when
Keene and Lawler both said that they were ready. They were innocent.
Watson said: "I don't care if it's to-morrow; I hope you won't keep me
like you did Johnson." When taken from court, Watson shouted, "Well,
good-bye."
Charles Ross, William Mackie, and John McMahon, alias McManus, robbed
the mail at the Chain of Ponds, on the Great North Road, on October
17th. They searched the letters, took a gold and a silver watch,
two gold chains, and £55 in notes and coin from Mr. Jonathan Snell,
£23 from Mr. Thomas Lumley, and smaller sums and valuables from the
other two passengers. On the 30th, Constable Leonard saw Mackie in a
public house at Lochinvar, near Maitland, and challenged him. Mackie
attempted to run, but was followed and captured. He threw away a gold
watch, which was picked up and identified as one stolen from Mr. Snell.
Ross and McMahon were discovered not far away and were arrested.
When tried they were convicted, but Ross was recommended to mercy on
account of his previous good character. He was sentenced to five years'
imprisonment, his companions being sent to gaol for seven years.
Michael Henry Davis, Aaron von Ehrstein, and Robert Smith, stopped
the mail coach on January 6th, 1862, about six miles from Burrangong.
Ensign Campbell Morris and Sergeant O'Grady, of the 12th regiment,
which had been engaged in suppressing the riot, were passengers going
to Cowra. Another passenger, a Frenchman, refused to surrender, and
Davis fired at him. After this no further resistance was made, and
Ehrstein, who searched the passengers, took £9 13s. from the Ensign and
other sums from the others. The police started in pursuit immediately
on receiving information of the robbery, and the prisoners were
captured without much trouble. They were convicted and sent to gaol for
ten years.
Benjamin Allerton and another man walked one day into the bar of
the Wakool Hotel on the lower Billabong and called for nobblers like
ordinary travellers. They were served by Mr. Talbot, the landlord. They
then went into the dining room and had supper. As soon as the meal was
over the two men rose, and one of them drew a pistol and said, "Excuse
us, gentlemen, this is our business." David Elliott, who was employed
at the hotel, was sitting next the bushranger, and made a snatch at the
pistol. The bushranger, however, was on the alert, and jumped aside.
Then he fired and Elliott fell wounded. Mr. Talbot rushed in from the
bar and said that he didn't want any more damage done. "Take the money
in the till," he cried, "and go." The bushrangers took some seven or
eight pounds from the till, a saddle and bridle, a canister of powder,
and some clothing, but they took nothing from the other persons who
had been at supper with them. They said that they were going to join
Gardiner and "make it hot for the traps." Information was at once given
to the police, and they were followed, but only Allerton was found and
captured. He was tried at Goulburn on March 27th and found guilty, the
jury pronouncing the verdict without leaving the box, and the judge
sentenced him to death. Benjamin Allerton and Henry Keene were hung
at Goulburn on May 5th. Another bushranger named Regan was hung there
in June. The sentences on Lawler and Watson were commuted to fifteen
years' imprisonment.
These were outsiders who intended to join the gang, but in the meantime
the gang itself had not been idle. John Peisley was a well-known
settler in the district, and his house was said to be the resort of
the bushrangers, and was closely watched by the police. On December
27th, 1861, Peisley and James Wilson were drinking at Benyon's Inn,
about a mile from Bigga, when Peisley challenged William Benyon to
run, jump, or fight for £10. Benyon declined, and Peisley struck him
several light blows on the chest and called him a coward, until at
length Benyon said he would wrestle. They went into the yard, leaving
Wilson, who was drunk, on the seat in the bar. Stephen Benyon, who
was at work in the barn, and several others, collected in the yard to
see the wrestling match. The men stripped, and grappled, and Peisley
threw the publican and then struck him in the face. Stephen Benyon
called Peisley a coward, rushed forward and threw Peisley. On getting
up Peisley rushed into the house swearing he would "do for Bill." He
seized a knife, when Mrs. Benyon cried out "My God! are you going to
kill my husband?" and grappled with him. Stephen Benyon picked up a
spade and struck Peisley on the arm. Peisley then threw away the knife
and said it was all right. The row seemed to be all over and Peisley
walked into the bar and asked Wilson where his vest was. He had taken
it off when he went out to wrestle and left it beside Wilson. Wilson
said he had not seen it. Then Mrs. Benyon announced that she had hidden
it because she found two revolvers rolled up in it. She offered to tell
Peisley where it was if he would promise to go away quietly. Peisley
said all right, and Mrs. Benyon showed him where she had hidden the
vest in the garden. Peisley walked out, picked the vest up from under
a bush, and went back again. He began to examine the revolvers, when
William Benyon said, "Surely you don't mean to shoot us?" "You never
knew me do a mean action in my life," replied Peisley, "and I'm not
going to begin now. Shake hands. We're all friends." They shook hands
all round and Peisley put on his vest and went away. As soon as he was
out of sight, William Benyon loaded his gun and took it to the barn,
where his brother Stephen had returned to his work. William gave the
gun to his brother and told him to take care of it, as Peisley was not
to be trusted. About half-an-hour later, when William Benyon was in
the bar, Peisley came galloping back, hitched his horse to the fence,
and went into the barn. Stephen Benyon picked up the gun and Peisley
said, laughing, "Why, you're not going to shoot me, are you?" "I was
told you were going to shoot me," returned Stephen. "Nonsense," cried
Peisley, "I never did a cowardly action in my life, and I'm not going
to now. Shake hands." Stephen put the gun down and shook hands, and
Peisley immediately seized the gun and fired, wounding Stephen in the
arm. Stephen ran out of the barn and towards the house, and Peisley,
taking careful aim, again pulled the trigger, but the cap missed fire.
Peisley ran to the corner of the house, and asked William Benyon's son
which way his uncle went. The child pointed in the wrong direction,
and Peisley ran to the other corner of the house. Not seeing Stephen
anywhere he returned. He was in a great rage, and struck a man named
George Hammond with the gun, which exploded without doing any damage.
Peisley threw the gun away, and drew a revolver. He ordered William
Benyon, Wilson, Hammond, and the servant girl into the barn. Then he
said to William, "I've got a bullet here for you. You've had your
game, now it's my turn." The servant went between Benyon and Peisley,
and begged the bushranger not to hurt her master. Peisley told her to
go away unless she was tired of her life. Suddenly Benyon rushed at
Peisley, who fired and wounded him in the neck, and as he fell Peisley
rushed out to his horse, mounted, and galloped away. William Benyon
died a week later, and a warrant was issued for the apprehension of
Peisley, who left his house and joined the gang. On January 15th
Constables Morris, Murphy, and Simpson were searching for bushrangers
in the Abercrombie Mountains, when they saw Peisley near Bigga. The
bushranger was splendidly mounted. He rode up, and coolly informed
the police that he was the man they were looking for. He added, "I'd
like to have a turn up with Morris if he will get down, and put his
gun aside." Morris replied, "All right," and immediately dismounted,
and placed his gun against a tree, expecting his challenger to do the
same. But Peisley laughed, turned his horse round, and cantered away.
Morris drew a revolver from his belt and fired. The bullet passed just
under the neck of the bushranger's horse. He turned in his saddle
and said "That was a good one. Try again." The police gave chase,
but the superiority of the bushranger's horse enabled him to escape
easily. About a week later Peisley was captured by Messrs. Mackenzie
and Burridge after a severe struggle. He was tried at Bathurst, and
sentenced to death for the murder of William Benyon, and was hung on
April 25th, 1862. When on the scaffold he said that he had never used
violence during his bushranging career until he had had that row with
Benyon. He had never taken a shilling from or done violence to a woman.
He denied that he had had anything to do with the attempt to bribe
Constable Hosie to let Gardiner escape. He was aware that the money
offered was £50. He also knew that there was a cheque for £2 10s. in
the collection, and that made the amount up to £50 10s. He had spent
five or six pounds in the spree at Benyon's. Wilson wanted him to sing
and Benyon to dance, but he refused. Benyon then asked him to put on
the gloves, but he declined because he knew it would lead to a row.
At this point, said the _Bathurst Free Press_, one of the clergymen
on the scaffold whispered to Peisley, and he immediately said that
he would say no more on that subject. He concluded with "Good-bye,
gentlemen. God bless you." Peisley did not appear to suffer much, but a
blackfellow, known as Jacky Bullfrog, who was hanged at the same time
for the murder of William Clarke, suffered terribly, his body being
frightfully convulsed for several minutes. Peisley was twenty-eight
years of age, five feet ten inches in height. He is described as a
fine-looking man at a distance, but when examined closely there was a
shifty, disagreeable look about his eyes.
In April Gardiner, with three companions, stuck up Pring's Crowther
station and then went on to Crooke's, and bailed up all hands there.
At Pring's, one of the bushrangers played the piano while the others
danced. At Crooke's one played the concertina and another sang "Ever of
thee."
On March 10th, Mr. Horsington, a store-keeper on the Wombat, was
driving with his wife in a spring cart to Lambing Flat, and Mr. Robert
Hewitt, store-keeper at Little Wombat, riding beside them. Suddenly,
James Downey, with three other bushrangers, barred the road and ordered
the travellers into the bush. The two store-keepers had a large
quantity of gold with them which they had purchased in the course of
business, and were taking to the bank at Lambing Flat, the main centre
of the Burrangong Goldfield. Mr. Horsington had a parcel containing
forty ounces in his pockets, and another of two hundred ounces in the
cart. The robbers took some £1100 worth from Mr. Horsington in gold
and money, and about £700 worth from Mr. Hewitt. When pocketing the
plunder, Downey said: "You're the best gentlemen I've met this month,
and I've stuck up twenty already."
Sergeant Sanderson, with detectives Lyons and Kennedy, left the Lachlan
Goldfield (Forbes), on April 11th, in charge of three bushrangers who
had been arrested, and who were being taken to Burrangong for the
police court examinations. Near Brewers' Shanty, three horsemen, with
two led horses, were observed, and on seeing the coach these horsemen
turned into the bush. The two detectives followed them on foot, when
the horsemen turned round and fired. The police returned the fire,
and the horses of two of the bushrangers bolted. The third bushranger
remained and fired again. The police replied and the bushranger fell.
He was identified as a man named Davis. He had received four wounds,
none of which was very serious. He was placed in the coach with the
other prisoners, and was subsequently sentenced to death. This sentence
was, however, commuted to imprisonment for life.
It was at this time that the Burrangong and other papers in the
disturbed area accused the Government of neglect in consequence of the
non-arrival in the district of Captain Battye with his troop of black
trackers. It was said that without this aid the police might ride round
for months, but could not penetrate the ranges. No doubt this outcry
had the effect of stirring up the authorities, because the blacks
speedily arrived and were set to work without delay.
The _Lachlan Miner_ of April 19th, 1862, inserted the following
paragraph:--
"We have received the following letter, purporting to be from the
hand of Frank Gardner (_sic_), the notorious highwayman, of Lachlan
and Lambing Flat roads. The circumstances under which we became
possessed of the documents can be known, and the original copies,
with the envelopes and seals, seen by the curious, on application
at this office, and they can then use what judgment they choose
as to the genuineness of them. We give it to our readers as we
received it:--'To the Editor of the _Burrangong Miner_, Lambing
Flat. Sir,--Having seen a paragraph in one of the papers, wherein
it is said that I took the boots off a man's feet, and that I also
took the last few shillings that another man had, I wish it to be
made known that I did not do anything of the kind. The man who took
the boots was in my company, and for so doing I discharged him the
following day. Silver I never took from a man yet, and the shot that
was fired at the sticking-up of Messrs. Horsington and Hewitt was by
accident, and the man who did it I also discharged. As for a mean,
low, or petty action, I never committed it in my life. The letter
that I last sent to the press, there had not half of what I said put
in it. In all that has been said there never was any mention made
of my taking the sergeant's horse and trying him, and that when I
found he was no good I went back and got my own. As for Mr. Torpy, he
is a perfect coward. After I spared his life as he fell out of the
window, he fired at me as I rode away; but I hope that Mr. Torpy and
I have not done just yet, until we balance our accounts properly. Mr.
Greig has accused me of robbing his teams, but it is false, for I
know nothing about the robbery whatever. In fact I would not rob Mr.
Greig or any one belonging to him, on account of his taking things
so easy at Bogolong. Mr. Torpy was too bounceable or he would not
have been robbed. A word to Sir W.F. Pottinger. He wanted to know
how it was the man who led my horse up to me at the Pinnacle, did
not cut my horse's reins, as he gave me the horse. I should like to
know if Mr. Pottinger would do so? I shall answer by saying no. It
has been said that it would be advisable to place a trap at each
shanty on the road, to put a stop to the depredations done on the
road. I certainly think it would be a great acquisition to me, for I
should then have increase of revolvers and carbines. When seven or
eight men could do nothing with me at the Pinnacle, one would look
well at a shanty. Three of your troopers were at a house the other
night and got drinking and gambling till all hours. I came there
towards morning when all was silent. The first room that I went into
I found revolvers and carbines to any amount, but seeing none as good
as my own, I left them. I then went out, and in the verandah found
the troopers sound asleep, satisfying myself that neither Battye
nor Pottinger were there, I left them as I found them, in the arms
of Morpheus. Fearing nothing, I remain, Prince of Tobymen, Francis
Gardner (_sic_), the Highwayman. Insert the foregoing, and rest
satisfied you shall be paid."
The spelling of the name appears to be a typographical blunder. Mr.
Torpy was a well-known resident of the district. This letter throws
some light on the methods pursued by the bushrangers, and tends to
prove that although Gardiner might not be present on some occasions,
the robberies were committed under his directions. And some fresh
outrage was reported almost every day, until in June, the report that
the Government gold escort from the Lachlan diggings had been stuck
up and robbed, caused a commotion throughout the colony. The escort
started from Forbes on June 15th with 2067 oz. 18 dwt. gold and £700,
owned by the Oriental Bank; 521 oz. 13 dwt. 6 grs., owned by the
Bank of New South Wales, and 129 oz. and £3000 in cash, owned by the
Commercial Banking Company, making about fourteen thousand pounds worth
in all.
The report of this robbery caused intense excitement throughout the
colony. Nothing like it had been heard of since the old gold digging
days in Victoria. Large bodies of police were sent out to scour the
country near the scene of the outrage. One of these parties of police
under Sergeant Saunderson, when in the ranges near Wheogo, saw a man on
horseback who rode away as they approached. The police followed him up
the steep gully, and when he was near the top four other men joined him
from behind the trees and made off too. The police followed so rapidly
that a packhorse which one of the men was leading broke away and they
had not time to recover him. The police seized the packhorse, but the
men got away. On the captured horse were found about 1500 oz. of gold,
a policeman's cloak, and two carbines which were identified as having
been among those with which the troopers of the escort had been armed.
It may be remarked _en passant_ that no more of the property stolen in
this robbery was ever recovered.
Some weeks later the police succeeded in apprehending Alexander
Fordyce, John Bow, Henry Manns, John McGuire, and Daniel Charters, and
these were committed for trial for having been concerned in the escort
robbery. Charters turned approver, and his evidence given at the trial
may be taken as a substantially true account of the method by which the
robbery was effected; although, of course, due allowance must be made
for the apparent efforts of the witness to minimise his own share in
the crime.
Charters lived with his parents at Humbug Creek and knew the country
well. One day Frank Gardiner met him near the Pinnacle and compelled
him to lead the way across the ranges to Eugowra. Johnny Gilbert and
Alick Fordyce were driving several spare horses which the gang had
collected. They camped near the Lachlan River and Gilbert went into
the town of Forbes, the centre of the Lachlan River diggings. It was
Sunday, and on his return to the camp Gilbert reported that he had had
great difficulty in purchasing guns and an axe. There was only one
store in the town in which guns were sold, and that was shut. He had
knocked the store-keeper up, however, and persuaded him to supply him
with what he wanted. On the next morning the gang rode as straight as
possible across the ranges, Gilbert going ahead with Charters to cut
the fences on Mr. Roberts' sheep run to enable them to pass through.
They camped for the night between the Eugowra Rocks and Campbell's
station. On the morning of June 15th, 1862, they tied their horses to
saplings near the camp and walked down to the rocks. Manns was sent
to McGuire's shanty at the crossing place for a bottle of Old Tom, a
loaf of bread, and some cooked meat. Fordyce took too much gin and
went to sleep, and Gardiner shook him roughly and told him that if he
didn't wake up he'd "cut his---- rations short." Later Gardiner sent
Charters to see if the horses were all right, and told him to stop
at the camp and mind them, adding "You're no---- good here. You're
too---- frightened of your skin." Soon afterwards he heard firing and
about an hour later the bushrangers came up leading the coach horses.
They had packed the gold on these horses. They wiped out and reloaded
their guns, and in doing so it was found that Fordyce's gun had not
been discharged. Gardiner turned on the young man fiercely and said,
"You---- coward, you were too much afraid to fire,---- you. I'll cut
your---- rations short for this." They saddled up their horses and
started across the ranges.
The escort was under the command of Sergeant Condell. It left Forbes
about noon, Constable John Fagan driving. The other constables were
Henry Moran and William Haviland. When they came to the Eugowra Rocks,
near the crossing over Mandagery Creek, they found two bullock teams
so placed across the road, which bends sharply as it approaches the
ford, that the escort cart had to be driven close to the rocks. The
teams belonged to two bullock drivers who had been made prisoners, and
had evidently been there for some time, as the bullocks were lying
down chewing the cud. To pass these teams the coach had to approach
the rocks at an angle, and as it was passing a volley was fired and
Constable Moran fell. The horses, frightened at the noise and flash
of the guns, bolted, but the cart was overturned through the wheels
colliding with a spur of the rocks. This threw the other constables
out and prevented them from making any effective resistance. As the
cart capsized, seven armed men, dressed in red shirts and with their
faces blackened, sprang from behind the rocks shouting, "Shoot the----
wretches." The police fired their carbines and then surrendered. The
robbers having re-packed their plunder were led by Charters to the
place from whence they had started, near the Pinnacle, where the gold
and money was roughly divided, and the party separated.
Constable Moran had sufficiently recovered from his wound to be present
at the trial and to give his evidence. The first jury disagreed and was
discharged, but at the second trial on February 23rd, 1863, Fordyce,
Bow, and Manns were convicted and sentenced to death. Charters was
acquitted according to promise, and McGuire was also acquitted on the
charge of being concerned in the robbery, but was afterwards convicted
of aiding and abetting the bushrangers, and was sentenced to a term of
imprisonment. Subsequently the capital sentences on Fordyce and Bow
were commuted to imprisonment for life, and only Manns was hung. The
execution was terribly bungled. The rope was too short for a tall,
slim youth like Manns, and he struggled violently. Seeing no prospect
of death within a reasonable time. Dr. West instructed the hangman to
raise the body and let it drop again, and this proved effectual. The
prolonged sufferings of the criminal must, however, have been very
severe.
From the date of this daring robbery the "Gardiner gang of bushrangers"
was the principal topic of conversation in New South Wales. After a
lull of several years a new era of bushranging had started, and it
lasted altogether for about ten years before it was finally suppressed.
For some time the robberies which were reported almost every day were
all attributed to Frank Gardiner, but, as was subsequently proved,
unjustly. Gardiner had made his _coup_ and retired, but it was some
time before either the police or the public became aware of this fact.