Читать книгу History of Australian Bushranging 2 - Charles White - Страница 4

Table of Contents

Surveyor Machattie, when conversing with the members of the gang on the road from Mulgunnia, had dared them to pay a visit to Bathurst. By men whose whole career had been one uninterrupted series of successes such a challenge was not likely to pass unheeded. They would go to Bathurst—not so much to make a haul as to create a scare and make a big sensation. They left the police looking for them among the mountains between Caloola and Carcoar, or watching the houses of those suspected of being harbourers, and came quietly towards the headquarters which the police had left. It was a bold, yet not an unexpected movement, for many a half-earnest jest had been passing among the townspeople for some time concerning such a visit. It would not give the bushrangers much trouble, and was not likely to be attended with more danger than many of the exploits in which they had engaged right under the eyes of the force specially charged with their capture.

A beautifully calm Saturday night in October, and an hour when the citizens had temporarily ceased from business to partake of the evening meal, was chosen for the sensational raid. Oil lamps and candles were beginning to shed their light in shops and through the windows across the footpaths in the main thoroughfares—there was no gas in those days—when five horsemen were seen by the few persons abroad jogging quietly down William-street in the gloaming. The sight was not by any means an unusual one; it was the practice then for the country youth to ride into town in companies of four and five to "see the sights o' market nights", and the general market night of the week in Bathurst, as in other places, was that of the last day of the week.

Having posted Vane in a lane just off the main street (the lane which runs along the side of the Technical College buildings), the other four (Hall, (Gilbert, O'Meally, and Burke) crossed the street to a gunsmith's shop kept by Mr. Pedrotta, in front of which two of them dismounted and handed the reins of their horses to their companions, who sat on their horses facing the shop. Entering the shop as ordinary customers they said no word and made no sign calculated in awaken the curiosity or suspicion of the proprietor, who at once proceeded to ask "What can I do for you, gentlemen?" They wanted some revolvers, and politely asked Mr. Pedrotta to show them one or two of his best. The best goods were exhibited, but these customers appeared hard to please. They wanted "rifle revolvers." Mr. Pedrotta shook his head and informed them that he did not keep such articles in stock. "Then show us some double trigger revolvers." But this article also was absent; and after critically examining the "six-shooters" that were exhibited to them, they declared that none were good enough, left the shop, and quietly remounted their horses.

A few doors lower down the street was a shop kept by Mr. McMinn, watchmaker and jeweller. Another halt was quietly called; the same two again dismounted, while their companions remained in charge. Mr. McMinn and his family were at tea at the time in a room at the rear, having left the shop in charge of a young male assistant. Stepping forward to serve, this young man was startled into terrified silence by the discovery that he was looking straight into the barrel of a revolver. He was ordered into a sideroom, and from it saw the other "customer" preparing to help himself to the valuables contained in a glass case on the counter. But the case was locked and could not be opened without breaking; and as breaking glass makes noise and noise attracts attention—two things which the men in the shop desired to avoid—they abandoned the case, and were appropriating articles from another part of the shop, when an interruption occurred. Miss McMinn opened the door leading into the shop, took in the situation at a glance, and screamed. The bushrangers hurried from the shop and remounted their horses, warning the lady and the other members of the family who had rushed forward upon hearing the cries of alarm, that they would meet danger if they followed them to the door.

Meanwhile the two mounted members of the gang had summoned the proprietor of a fruit shop adjoining, and ordered some of his best oranges; and the shopman was in the act of handing up the oranges when the others emerged from McMinn's. To vault into the saddles was the work of a moment, and snatching some of the oranges the five men rode in a bunch down the street at a "jog". They had not gone many paces, however, when Mrs. McMinn came to the door of the shop and raised a public alarm, crying out that the horsemen were bushrangers and that the shop had been robbed by them. This brought all her neighbours into the street, and as one and another began to run out the bushrangers put spurs to their horses and set off at a hand gallop, heading down the street in the direction of the police barracks. At the corner where the School of Arts now stands, however, a further cause for commotion arose. Three of the men turned their horses into Howick-street, but as the other two were heading straight for the barracks, one of the former fired a revolver in the air to attract their attention, and they at once took the hint, checked their horses and wheeled round after their companions. The shot from the revolver rang out upon the night air as a note of war, and the townsfolk who were running after the horsemen dodged into places of safety, imagining that they were being fired at. From Howick-street the bushrangers crossed the Square, then mostly open land, into George-street, and headed for the top of the town; and when they reached a quarter which had not been disturbed by the noise, they slackened their pace and eventually pulled up in a quiet corner, arranging a visit to another citizen well known to at least one of the gang.

While they were thus engaged the whole of the business portion of the town was in a great state of perturbation. Information of the raid had been conveyed to the police barracks, and within a very short time every available man at the station belonging to the mounted police was in the saddle. All told, the number of mounted pursuers only amounted to five, and these started off at a brisk pace along the course taken by the bushrangers. They had a brisk night ride for nothing, for while they were plunging along one of the roads leading from the town, believing that the men they wanted to catch had again taken to the bush, and were making back towards either Caloola or Carcoar, those men were coolly continuing their depredatory work within the town boundaries. In their haste the police had overlooked the bushrangers, riding past the very spot where their horses were standing and within a stone's throw of the very house which they were overhauling.

Meanwhile the civilians had abandoned business. Several of the shopkeepers hurriedly put up their shutters, fearing they knew not what. Those who had no shops to attend to formed in knots at street corners and elsewhere to exchange opinions concerning the probabilities of the chase, leaving their womenkind to lock the doors from within. Suddenly a fresh turn was given to the conversation. Word was passed round that the bushrangers were still in the town, and that while they had been pictured as riding at a breakneck speed over the gullies and ranges leading back to their retreat, they had been making merriment for themselves and trouble for others in the house of a popular alderman of the borough.

That report was true. Having placed their horses where they could not be seen from the street they had entered the hotel kept by Alderman DeClouet, in Piper-street, and had bailed up the inmates, who had not yet heard of the disturbance in the centre of the town. Gilbert, who had formerly been a jockey in the service of Mr. DeClouet, took possession of the bar, revolver in hand, and examined the till, but finding only silver he put it back. He, however, continued in occupation, whilst another of the men walked into Mrs. DeClouet's bedroom, where she was just preparing the children for bed. From her he obtained the contents of the cashbox and a silver watch. Meanwhile two of the other men were engaged with Mr. DeClouet himself, from whom they took a valuable silver watch and a one pound note; they also took two pounds from a young man, a lodger in the house. During their stay they enquired from the landlord where "Pasha" was. This was a favourite racehorse which Gilbert knew was kept by the alderman. Information had been received during the day, however, that the party were near the town and might require a good horse, and to provide against the possibility of losing his favourite, Mr. DeClouet had him removed during the day to a horse box; and as on search the animal could not be seen, the bushrangers were obliged to leave without having accomplished this part of their purpose.

They disappeared quietly, taking the direction of Caloola, while their pursuers were heading for Carcoar.

It subsequently transpired that they had not forgotten the promise made to Mr. Machattie, when parting from him near Mulgunnia, after having robbed him of his horse. They said they would return the animal and send him word where it was to be found. This undertaking they carried out to the letter; before leaving the Sportsman's Arms they left a message for him to the effect that his horse and also that taken from Mr. Battye would be found in Mutton's paddock on the Vale Road, about a mile from town. On the following morning Mr. Machattie's horse was found in the spot indicated, but the other horse either was not left there or was subsequently taken away again by the gang, as they passed the paddock on their way out of town. They also told Mr. DeClouet that if Mr. Machattie had not dared them to come to Bathurst they would never have thought of coming, but they were not disposed to neglect a good chance of "having a lark" when the opportunity offered.

The excitement in Bathurst did not die out with their disappearance. On the Sunday it formed the topic of conversation in church and out of church. During the day the Police Magistrate, Dr. Palmer, issued circulars to all the principal inhabitants, requesting them to attend at the Courthouse on the following morning to "consider what course should be taken to protect the town in the present emergency." Many others besides those invited attended on Monday morning, and business was partially suspended while the best means of protecting the town in case of another raid—which many considered not a remote contingency—was fully discussed.

Dr. Palmer, the Police Magistrate, was called to the chair. After explaining the motives which had prompted him to convene the meeting, he said he thought it was not probable that the bushrangers would visit the town during the night; but he hoped that all the residents who could do so would arm themselves and be prepared to meet them if they should visit Bathurst again. The police appointed to town duty were fourteen in number, being one senior-constable and six others for day duty, and one senior-constable and five others for night duty, besides the watchhouse keeper; these men were all well and fully armed, and were ready and willing at any moment to give every assistance, if required. He was of opinion that it would be better at that meeting to deal with the question in a general way rather than to go into minute particulars, for he believed there were some who would convey the intelligence to the bushrangers, and he had no doubt there were some in that room who were prepared to adopt that course. This was rather a reflection upon the loyalty of the meeting, but no one resented the remark, and he proceeded to express the opinion that it would be wise to appoint a committee to deal with the minutiae of the matter, and by that means arrangements might be made that would not reach the ears of the bushrangers.

Then followed a discussion. It was argued that five policemen were not sufficient for night duty in the town, and that for the proper protection of the inhabitants a number of special constables should be sworn in, who with the town police should be placed under the orders of the Police Magistrate (who resided in town), and not have to wait for instructions from an officer of the force, whose duty might call him fifty or sixty miles from Bathurst.

Eventually the following resolutions were put and carried nem con.:—

1. It is the opinion of this meeting that, for the better protection of life and property in this town, a number of special constables should be immediately sworn in and equipped by the Government, and parties willing to volunteer to form a mounted body (and find their own horses) for protection at night, be immediately enrolled, and that they may be placed under the control of the Police Magistrate and Magistrates; and that the Inspector-General be requested to place the police (at present allotted for the protection of the town) under the same authorities.

2. That a committee be appointed to take into consideration the necessary steps for protecting life and property in Bathurst, and also to communicate with the Government as to the schemes to be devised for the capture of bushrangers, and the suppression of bushranging—the committee to consist of the Mayor, the Police Magistrate, Mr. Webb, Dr. Machattie, Mr. Robinson, Mr. Hawkins, Dr. Connell, Mr. W. Lee, sen., Mr. John Dargin, Mr. Stanger, Mr. J. C. White, Dr. McDonagh, Mr. Kinna, Mr. J. DeClouet, and Mr. W. Farrand; five to form a quorum.

Before the meeting closed the chairman said he had already communicated with the Colonial Secretary in Sydney, informing him of the steps that were being taken, and he had just received a wire from that gentleman to the following effect:—

The Government will most cordially co-operate with the inhabitants of the town of Bathurst in any steps such as you suggest. Keep me apprised of anything you hear. In the absence of the police officer you may do what you think best.

A number of those present then presented themselves to be sworn in as special constables by the Police Magistrate, and arrangements were perfected for these to patrol the town, singly or in batches, during the hours of darkness, fully equipped with such weapons as were deemed necessary to enable them to defend the lives and properties of their fellow townsmen from any attack the bushrangers might make upon their persons and possessions.

Sunday and Monday passed quietly, but on Tuesday evening Bathurst was again thrown into a state of great excitement by the announcement that the gang had committed a series of robberies on the Vale Road, within a mile of the town. They had found a safe shelter during the intervening time with some friends, who kept them posted in every movement of the police; and when the latter had returned to headquarters on Tuesday evening, they were ready to commence work afresh.

Their first visit was to a store kept by Mr. E. Mutton, on the Vale Road, about a mile from the police barracks; this happened to be closed, and all the doors fastened, so that they could not obtain an entrance without resorting to force. Foiled here, the bushrangers paid a visit to the owner's mother, who resided near the store. She admitted them, but refused to let them have the key of the store. They then searched her house, and whilst turning over the bedclothes one of them, who was holding a candle, accidentally set fire to the bedcurtains. They at once exerted themselves to the utmost to extinguish the flames, and one of them burnt one of his hands severely; Mrs. Mutton gave him some Holloway's ointment with which to dress it, meanwhile talking seriously to them about the evil courses they were pursuing. They listened in patience for a time, but soon mounted their horses and rode away along the main road leading to Caloola. As soon as they had left, Mrs. Mutton sent her son, Mr. John Mutton, who resided near, into Bathurst for the police, who went out at once, arriving about half-an-hour after the bushrangers had left.

Meanwhile the gang had reached a hotel on the Vale Road kept by Mr. Walker, about a mile and a half from Mrs. Mutton's, and adjoining Orton Park homestead, the residence of Mr. C. McPhillamy. Here the police would have come up with them had they kept on the road; but the "superior" officer in charge decided to take a branch road, and so kept his men beyond the range of the bushrangers' revolvers.

At Walker's they stayed twenty minutes, but found little worth taking; at a roadside store half-a-mile beyond, however, they made quite a large haul in the shape of tobacco, tea, sugar, sardines, flannel and draperies, and spent fully three-quarters of an hour upon the premises. The goods—amounting to about £50 in value—they packed in pillow slips taken from the bedrooms, and regaled themselves while at work upon tinned fish and sauce. They emptied the till of its contents, some twenty-five shillings, and took one shilling and sixpence from one of the children's boxes, in spite of the mother's protest. They then rode off, laden with stolen property.

While Hall and his mates were at the store, Captain McLerie and his men arrived at Walker's on foot, having left their horses—for some reason best known to themselves—at some distance. They were returning from an unsuccessful hunt at the back of the Bald Hills, and had crossed over to the Vale Road. Entering the inn the gallant captain found Walker calmly smoking, with the view no doubt of soothing his nerves after the shock to which they had been subjected. He at once ordered Boniface to take the pipe out of his mouth, and then proceeded to search the rooms for bushrangers, although Mr. Walker informed him that they had only a few minutes previously left the house. Having satisfied himself that the men of whom he was in search were not hidden about the premises, the captain of police braced up his nerves, and proceeded...back to Bathurst! hearing along the road that the bushrangers had been before him, and that another party of police had been taken out by Superintendent Morrissett to look for them.

This latter party was lucky enough to reach house after house just as the bushrangers had left. At Mutton's they had been half an hour behind at the second store they were only ten minutes in arrear, but had left their horses some way off, so gave the robbers a very good opportunity to get clear away. But the latter were in no greater hurry than their pursuers, and instead of disappearing into the bush or pushing at full speed along the road, they quietly cantered along with their booty until they came to Mr. Butler's hotel, about a mile farther on the road leading to Caloola. It was about ten o'clock at night when they reached the place and at once began operations. There were eight men in the bar, and Mrs. Butler was attending to them. Four of the bushrangers entered, armed like the police. They rummaged a side room and the drawers, but took nothing excepting a chain; a watch which they were told belonged to a widow woman, which had been left there to be raffled for, they allowed to remain where it was. One of the gang asked his mate to drink, but he refused, saying he was on duty. They demanded Mrs. Butler's money; she emptied her pocket, but as there was nothing but silver they returned it. They enquired from the men in the house what money they had. It was produced; there was only silver, and they suffered them to retain it. One man asleep on the sofa they awoke and asked him for his money; he said he had only silver; they searched him and finding some notes they took them and the silver too, as a punishment for telling them a lie. This man had a draught horse in the stable; they took that, but left those of Mr. Butler. In their search through the house they came to the door of the bedroom occupied by Mrs. Butler's mother. A girl who was there said "If you are gentlemen you will not go into the old lady's room, she is nervous and you would frighten her", and they then turned away. They called for six nobblers for people in the house and paid for them, themselves drinking, nothing stronger than lemonade; and having rearranged their plunder on the spare horse they took their departure, just as the sound of the police horses' hoofs were heard along the highway, the sound indicating that they were proceeding very leisurely. This was explained five minutes afterwards, when the police made their appearance, two of them walking ahead of the others to reconnoitre! It was, doubtless, with a sigh of disappointment that Superintendent Morrissett learned the bushrangers had gone. But there was glory still ahead. The sound of the horses that had just been ridden from the hotel door could be heard in the distance, and Mrs. Butler informed the newcomers that the men had only just left the house, that they had heavy swags with them, and had taken a draught horse out of the stable to carry some of the goods; that they were still in the fenced-in road, and must be taken if pursued quickly. The superintendent was not to be hurried. He held a short conversation with a person living opposite the hotel, and then started along the road. Shortly afterwards, however, he returned to ask the person he had been conversing with to go with them! Seeing that precious time was being lost, Mrs. Butler asked one of the police what they were waiting for; and the reply came growlingly (for the "men" had no sympathy with their superior in this delay) "For orders!" The order to proceed again was shortly afterwards given, but it is almost needless to say no good result followed the proceeding. The police returned as they had started, and the men shared—unjustly enough—the reproach and ridicule which their timorous and hesitating leader had earned.

When this news reached Bathurst, public feeling was divided between shame, disgust, and indignation. The action of the Superintendent formed the subject of adverse comment in almost every circle. Through his want of generalship—to say nothing more—the gang had been allowed to come and go almost as it pleased them, and the people began to openly debate whether they would not be better off without any police at all, than with police led after the fashion above described. In this case the inefficiency of the force had been so marked that reports other than those sent from the Superintendent's office found their way into the hands of the Colonial Secretary, and the head of the department in Sydney wrote some remarkably strong minutes to the responsible officers. The whole colony was aroused to indignation by the oft-repeated tale of ineffectual pursuits, and the subject was brought before Parliament and debated on more than one occasion. The raid upon Bathurst, and the subsequent robbery of the people living along one of the principal approaches to the town, showed that the bushrangers held the law and its administrators in supreme contempt; and it was urged that unless more effective measures were adopted they would go to lengths never before heard of. But Hall and his mates, as it happened, lay quiet for some time, and those who watched for their reappearance watched in vain— though reports were circulated to the effect that they had made back across country to their old haunts on the Southern side. And while the police in the west were thus undisturbed by fresh surprises, the whole question of the management of the force was vigorously dealt with by the authorities in Sydney, who were themselves charged with the responsibility of the failures daily recorded.

In order that the reader may better understand how it was that police efforts were so persistently futile, it is necessary to give some account of the system—for it was the system that was at fault, more than the individual employed under it. Frank Gardiner had only just set the ball rolling when the late Sir Charles Cowper, who was then Premier of the colony and leader of the Government—for it must be remarked that in Australian Governments the Premier is not always the leader— succeeded in passing through the Legislature a new Police Act. Formerly the police in country districts were under the supervision and control of local police magistrates; this Act brought the whole of the police in the colony under one central head, resident in Sydney; and that head was, at this time. Captain McLerie. Mr. Cowper was very proud of his legislative offspring, but he had chosen a most unfortunate time for bringing it to the birth. Bushranging had already assumed a vigorous growth, while the system was by no means in working order to confront it. It may have answered very well in the streets of the Metropolis, where the daily round of police duty was circumscribed, and dealt with city rogues and vagabonds; but in the country the nepotism which flourished under it, and the restrictions placed upon the men by officers who knew absolutely nothing of bush duty (and who, if they had known, would not have been qualified to engage in it from lack of the experience born of active exercise) opened the way for wrong-doers to run a free and easy course. The men were harassed by contradictory orders, or rendered fretful by enforced inactivity pending the arrival of instructions which their inexperienced officers sought from the head centre, hundreds of miles away. The system looked well on paper, but was hopelessly futile when contrasted with the requirements of the infested districts. The men were right enough, if they had been permitted to know anything; but this was denied them, and every single movement was nothing but the clockwork of graduated office. All was done by reference upward, and the officer in command was the oracle. It was a secret society, and all the actual knowledge of an inferior became ignorance the moment he had communicated the information he had received to his superior. There was too much rank and file and commission in the system; and although the Government went out of its way to make it more effective, actually giving more liberty than could be taken without putting the machinery out of gear, internal friction continued, and external disgust and dissatisfaction kept pace with it.

Even before the ridiculous exhibition on the Vale Road, the outcry against the system had become general. The House of Assembly badgered the Premier and Colonial Secretary, in whom the control of the police force was vested. The Colonial Secretary importuned the Inspector-General, and even went so far as to reprimand and threaten him. The Inspector-General passed the trouble on to those immediately under him in command, who in turn worried the rank and file to the verge of resignation. Disorganisation reigned supreme, and while officers fought with each other, and Parliament and people raved and stormed and bemoaned the powerlessness of the system to cope with the first evil that confronted it, the bushrangers and their friends laughed consumedly and sought every opportunity of openly defying the police and intensifying the confusion.

The Inspector-General at last determined to leave his comfortable quarters in Sydney and visit the disturbed districts, with the view of rallying his officers and showing them how to do bush duty. He went to the central stations in the south and west, and himself led small companies in pursuit; but it was all so much wasted energy. Outrages multiplied, and while Hall's gang ran riot over the wide area in south and west, Other bushrangers sprang up in other districts, to the dismay of the residents and the further annoyance of the authorities.

Now the full force of the condemnatory blast was felt in Parliament, and the Government were at their wits' end to stand against it. They could not defend a force as inefficient as that under McLerie's command had proved itself to be, but Mr. Cowper would not admit that it was the system that was in fault. He was loyal to his offspring, but terribly indignant at the manner in which those in whose charge he had placed it were acting. A bitter correspondence ensued between Mr. Cowper and the Inspector-General, during which the Premier threatened at one time to "set the regular police aside and organise another band under an entirely different arrangement", and in a later letter added—"The Colonial Secretary is, however, unwilling suddenly to withdraw the Inspector-General, but intimates his intention of doing so, if within one month, Gilbert and party are not apprehended. It will then become a question for immediate determination what modification of the police system shall be made to remedy the defects so loudly complained of."

The raids made upon Bathurst and along the Vale Road forced the Government to introduce a new course of procedure. One portion of the plan was to offer a reward of £500 each for the capture of Gilbert, Hall, O'Meally, Vane and Burke. These rewards were to be paid, not into the police reward fund, but directly to those persons who either captured these bushrangers themselves or gave such information as should lead to their capture by others. The strictest secrecy was to be observed relative to the parties giving information; and to prevent publicity the money was to be paid from the Treasury direct to the parties entitled to it without passing through any second hand. In the next place, private persons were to be employed in a way and under circumstances which the Government deemed prudent not to make public. It was stated that various offers had been made by parties desirous of undertaking the ridding of the country of the dangerous and troublesome pest; but they wanted to be well paid for their trouble, and one of them stipulated for no less than £6000 as the price of his efforts if successful. Others, however, were much more moderate in their proposals. A further measure resolved upon by the Government was to send six special parties of six or eight men each into the disturbed districts. These constables were not to be clothed in uniform, or accoutred in the heavy dragoon style, but in the usual bush costume, armed with rifles and revolvers. Each party was to have a black tracker. The horses were to be of a first-class character, and the officers in command were to choose their own men. They were to take packhorses, with tents and provisions, so that they might be able to keep the bush for a considerable period; and they were to have no other duty than to follow up the bushrangers until captured. Each of these parties was to be placed under the command of officers who had distinguished themselves by their courage and activity.

As it turned out, the gang in the west was broken bit by bit, not by any newly infused energy on the part of the police under better leaders, but by the courage of private individuals; who instead of yielding fought, at the risk of losing life as well as money: and whose steady hand and correct aim rendered their fighting—in each instance against "long odds"—successful.