SHORT-LIVED BUSHRANGERS

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVIII, Issue 2711, 15 January 1910, Page 2 (Supplement)

SHORT-LIVED BUSHRANGERS

SERIES OF SENSATIONAL STORIES (By Charles White, Author of “Australian Bushrangers,” “Old Convict Days,” etc.)

(Published by Special Arrangement.)

XVI.—A CONSTABLE WHOSE PLUCK ATONED FOR HIS FOLLY.

Patrick Connolly was a police constable in 1860, and was stationed at Billabong, where his time was spent mechanically during the monotonous daily round of duties common to most of the smaller bush stations during the early days. There was not much excitement in his life, but he was quite satisfied with it, and rested content with the dignity which the position gave him in the eyes of the Billabongese and and casual visitor who might happen along. On the morning of 19th November he received a commission which took him away from home on an important mission. A prisoner named George do Clifford, who had been arrested on the road and had made an unsuccessful attempt to escape before reaching Billabong, was given into his charge for the purpose of escorting him to one of the court towns a few days’ journey distant. ‘ ‘Keep a dess watch on him, as he is a very slippery customer,” was the injunction given to Connolly by the officer who handed the prisoner over, and tins Connolly promised to do.

Properly equipped, and riding the best of the horses belonging to Ins station, Connelly set out on the journey, holding the reins of the horse (a very sorry steed, of course) upon which his handcuffed prisoner was seated. Noth, ing occurred during the greater part of the day to break the monotony of the journey over the lonely bush road, until some time in tho afternoon, when the horse. De Clifford was riding knocked up, and no amount of urging could induce him to proceed at more than a slow walk. Although fretting over ime delay thus caused, tho constable made the best of a bad job, and succeeded in reaching the small township of Ohlcy, where ho decided to stay the night. In the absence of a lock-Vp a suitable room "was secured ~in th/s' local “pub,” and Connolly and his prisoner proceeded to pass the night —not in comfortable beds, hnt seated or reclining as inclination led them on the stools or chairs furnished by the bush Boniface. The horses were placed in the stable, which was within view of the room which, for the nonce, had been turned into a lock-up. Although De Clifford had a choice of positions during the night, it was not to be supposed that Constable Connolly allowed him quite as much freedom of movement as ho reversed for himself. A chain was brought into requisition, and to that the prisoner was fastened, so that he could not hope to move off -during the hours of darkness without creating a disturbance or suffering a good deal of arm-ache, even had the opportunity for moving off presented itself.

The night passed in safety, only an occasional “refresher” breaking the alternate tits of dozing or conversation in -which gaoler and prisoner indulged. “I watched him all night,” said Connolly, when giving evidence subsequent, ly at the court, and it may be taken "or granted that ho spoke the truth, seeing that he had been so specifically warned against the skipping propensities of his prisoner. But with the morning trouble camp. Connolly happened to look towards the stable, and, seeing the door open, sudden alarm seized him that the animals placed there over night might have been removed or strayed. Acting up.pn the impulse of the moment, he hurried out to the stable, taking the precaution to close the door of the room as he left it. Hurriedly entering the stable he saw at once that his fears had been groundless, for the horses were safe, each calmly picking up the reremains of the feed which had been placed in the feed boxes the night before, the open door being explained by the presence of a carrier, whose horses were also in the stable, and who had risen early to give them their morning feed. Connolly then proceeded to feed his own horses, chatting meanwhile with the carrier; and he was thus engaged when the surprise of his life came upon him. Hearing a noise- at th<? door he turned to find his erstwhile prisoner standing there> with a revolver in his hand, and to hear Do Clifford demanding one of the horses. Mystified beyond measure at this extraordinary occurrence, for a moment Connolly was incapable of movement, his big mind busy seeking a possible solution. Had someone entered the room as soon as he had started for the stable, and released the prisoner from the chain, at the same time giving him a revolver; or, had the man, by the exercise of superhuman strength, snapped his hand-cuffs and got free ? Or were his eyes and ears deceiving him as to the sight and sound presented? The repetition of the demand, “Give me one of those horses,” however, left no room for doubt in Connolly’s mind that the personage at the stable door was no ghostly visitant, and he at once

made a hurried movement forward. De Clifford immediately dropped on to his knees and called out —“By — —, if you oorae a step nearer I’ll bhoot you th rough the heart! ” There was uo mistaking the tone of the intention, but without a second thought of the consequences, duty being the one thing upipennost in his mind, Connolly made a rush, heedless of the fact that i the revolver presented towards' him. was i n t he hands of a desperately-determin-

ed man. Suddenly a shot rang cut, and as suddenly Connolly duelled his head and the bullet passed harmlessly. Next moment he closed, with his assailant and knocked him down ; but almost immed. iately De Clifford was again on his feet and speeding out of the yard, not even turning to fire again as he ran. Finding that to follow him on foot and unarmed would be both foolish! and dangerous, Connolly ran back to tho house and secured a gun; then mounting his horse he followed the escapee, and in a short time caught up to him.. Seeing that escape was now hopeless, De Clifford threw aside the revolver and fell on his knees, begging Connelly not to fire. Shortly after this he was escorted back to the room from which he had escaped, and there made doubly secure until the journey prisonward could be resumed.

The manner of escape was soon made plain. When hurrying to the stable tho policeman had foolishly left his revolver and the key of the handcuffs on the table,, and the prisoner saw his

opportunity and availed himself of it, freeing himself of his bonds by means of the key, and running out to tho stable with the revolver in his hand. But Connolly attoned for this error by the pluck he displayed in rushing upon De Clifford when covered with the revolver, himself being unarmed, and by the energy he displayed in following up the fugitive and re-capturing him At his trial, which took place some time afterwards, in Bathurst, De Clifford declared that he did not fire at the constable with intent to kill, and that the revolver went off in consequence of Connoll’s rushing against him. In answer to a question from the prisoner, the constable admitted that if De Clifford had chosen he could have fired upon him both before and after the rush, for the whole six chambers were leaded. Both judge and jury complimented Connolly upon tho courage he had displayed, and an end was put to De O ifford’s power of doing further mischief, for, in addition to a sentence passed upon him for the offence for which lie had tJeen first arrested, he was senten. ccd to five years on the road for shooting at Connolly with intent to do him some grievous bodily harm.

XVII.—ANOTHER x'ULICEMAN’S MISTAivE.

Pertinent to this subject is another case of' serious error by a policeman, but- in this instance loss of a companion’s Tue was the result. Briefly, the facts were as follows: — The Cowra district was a frequent resort of bushrangers of all sorts during 1864 and 1865, that being a favorite field fori operations, by reason of the large number of diggers and carriers passing along the roads to and from the several gold-diggings in the locality and further west. The police were also correspondingly active, and parties of them were always out in search of desperadoes. One party was composed of Senior-Constable Herbert, Constables Ambrose, and Cook, and a black tracker named Peter, and the quartette started out from Canowiudra on tho hunt one morning in March. After riding all day they camped in the bush at night, about half a mile from Mogong. Shortly after dusk, Her. bert and Ambrose started out to watch a hut, where they expected some of tho bushrangers were being harbored, leaving Cook and Peter to.mind the camp and the horses. Before leaving Herbert cautioned Cook not to fire at any person who might approach unless he was certain of his identity, instructed him to short-hobble the horses., and said that if lie arid Ambrose should return during "the night, which he did not think likely, he* would give a whistle with the fop of the powder flask to let him know they were near, at the same time showing him the way he would whistle. Then Cook and the darkie were left alone in the camp, and soon Cook was the only watcher, for Peter had coiled himself in his opossum rug, and, with saddle for pillow, was deep in sleep. Three* or four hours passed Without any other disturbance than the ordinary bush noises of the night, when Cook heard hoof-beats coming in the direction where the horses were cropping the grass on the bank of the creek. Reaching over he struck! the sleeping Peter on the knee with his open hand, and, as the startled black boy sprang to his feet he heard Cook say: “Here they are!” and, looking towards the creek saw two men riding to the spot where the horses were feeding. At once the constable challenged them, and at the sound of his voice the two horsemen galloped off. More watchful now than ever, Cook strained his ears for every sound, and kept a sharp look-out for fear of a surprise; but Peter calmly lay down again and was soon again in the land of dreams.

Two hours or more passed, the darkness deepening as the small hours crept on, r when Peter was once more aroused by Cook’s hand and the repeated warning: “Here -they are!” followed by a loud challenge to someone in the darkness twice repeated, No quick response being made, the constable aimed in the direction from which the disturbing sounds proceeded, and fired; Peter also firing his carbine in the same direction. Immediately following the shots there dame an agonised cry—“ Don’t! Don’t! for God’s sake! You have shot Herbert!” followed by another voice raised in protest, which Cook recognised as Ambrose’s.

In a few minutes the constable and the tracker had covered the distance between the camp and the spot from which the voices had come, and there they found Herbert lying on the ground supported by Ambrose. The former was badly wounded', in the _groin .and also in the neck and shoulder, the bul-

let from Cook’s rifle and the shot from Peter’s carbine having all found lodgment in the body of the unfortunate man. He was carried to the camp, and received all the attention possible, and at daybreak the saddened party started on the return to Canowindra, where uie wounded man succumbed to his injuries after lingering in great pain for about ten days.

Before dying, Herbert made a sworn statement that bo and Ambrose wore approaching the camp without noise from a direction opposite to that intended, they having missed their way in the darkness, and when within fifteen yards of the camp, he being in advance of Ambrose, two shots were fired, and he staggered and 'fell after calling out. He admitted that- he had not blown the whistle as arranged, not thinking they were so close to the camp. This statement was corroborated by Ambrose, who said Ire did not hear any challenge, and admitted that Cook, who was quite sober and good friends with his superior officer, was greatly distressed when he cuscovered that the latter had been shot. Subsequently Cook was charged at the Police Court with shooting at and killing Herbert, but after hearing the evidence the Bench decided that the case did not- warrant more than a severe reprimand as punishment, and the information was dismissed. The AttorneyGeneral, however, afterwards ordered a prosecution, and tlio case was tried at the Bathurst Quarter Sessions, but Cook was acquitted. Herbert’s widow was later allowed by the Government £4O per year for ten years, for the support of herself and two fatherless children.

XVIII.—A SATURDAY NlGxx* RAID. A roadside publican named McSpcddon was standing behind the bar of his roadside inn, at Campbell’s River, one Saturday night in May, 1863, waiting for more customers, when two horsemen rode up, and, quietly dismounting, proceeded to hitch their horses to the posts which had been erected in front of the verandah for the convenience of callers. Anxious to serve, and curious as to the identify of the visitors, he stepped into the verandah to give them the usual welcome, when he was startled to hear a stern command: “Go back there!”—and to find a pistol held in uncomfortably close proximity to his head.

For a moment lie stood as if dazed, but - second roughly-worder order, mix<kl with an oath or two, and a threatening movement of the pistol, induced him to promptly obey, and lie went back inside the house, closely followed by the two men. When fairly in the light shed by the kerosene lamp that swung over the counter, McSpeddon did not require more than one glance at his discourteous visitors to convince uim that they were bushrangers, for, besides being armed, they each wore a mask made of a red woollen “comforter”—a winter neck wrap much in vogue in the bush in those- days. As McSpeddon entered the door, closely followed by the bushrangers, two men (farmers living in the neighborhood) rose in alarm from the corner where they were sitting enjoying a quiet glass and chat; but one of the bushrangers ati once covered them with a revolver and declared that he would shoot the first man that moved. It goes without saying that neither of the farmers made any effort on that occasion to be the first man, and they both stood quietly where they were, watching McSpeddon quietly submitting- to have his hands tied behind him by the bushranger who had him in charge. Then the order came: “Get out of this room!”—a small room leading off the bar being indicated—ana that orct. er was met by obedience that was prompt if not cheerful. “Now, look here!” said the leading bushranger. “We mean business, and if there’s any hanky-panky tricks, there will be some shooting done. Hand over your cash!” Submissively enough the three victims turned out their pockets, but there wasn’t much handing' over of cash, for the simple reason that there Avas very little to hand o\ r er.

“You’re a poor lot, anyway,” said the leader, “but Ave .must make something more than this. Here, Bob (to his mate) look after these Avhile x hunt around; and pop the first of them that makes a move while I’m aAvay.” So “Bob” took charge, and the other proceeded to straightway ransack- the place.

An hour after their entry the bushrangers took their departure, having loaded up a third horse with clothing, provisions, and such articles of value ias they considered worth pirating. But somebody had left the place before them. Shortly after theirj entry a farmer named Clarke, w r ho was in a back room when they arrived, and saw the first part of the “stic'king-up” process from the window of that room, noiselessly opened the sash and crawled out, ran round to the hack, saddled a horse, and went away hot-foot to give information to the police, who returned with him to McSpeddon’s some three hours afterwards.

McSpeddon told his story and gave a clear description of the leading/ bushranger, whom, he declared, he had frequently seen before, the rod comforter - he was wearing- over his head not being sufficient disguise to hide his identity. Clarke also declared that he had seen the other man before, and would know him again if'he saw him. From the description given by, Me-. Speddon and Clarke, the police gathered a clue, and at once started off across the bush in the direction of Oberon, near which place a man lived who answered the description given. Arrived

/ here, they f discovered that the person for whom they Avere searching had! left some days before Avith a bullock team, going to Sydney for loading. The task of folloAving tho dray was an easy one, for it had kept the road, and next day they came up with it at Hartley, travelling in company with a second dray.

There Avas no difficulty about the arrest, and Patrick McKill and William Slat-cry, the drivers of the tAVO drays, Avere shortly afterwards being escorted along the road to Bathurst, charged with the robbery at McSpeddon’s. Both prisoners in-otestcd their innocence, declaring that they had been with their drays at Mutton’s Falls on the night of the robbery and had not left the camp, Avhich was twenty miles from Me. Sped don’s house. Subsequently the case against Slattery was dismissed, but MclCitt was sent up- for trial at the September sittings of the Bathurst Assize Court. At the trial McSpeddon swore most positively that McKitt Avas one of the men engaged in the robbery, for he had seen his face distinctly during the hour they had stayed at the place, and he could not be mistaken. He also identified the hat Avorn by prisoner. Tho two farmers who had been bailed up in the house Avith McSpeddon Avould not, hoAvever, swear to him, but the farmer Avdio had watched them from tho AvindoAV and then rode off to gh’e information to the police, unhesitatingly declared that McKitt Avas one of the robbers. In his defence, tho prisoner called several witnesses to prove that he was with the drays at Mutton’s Falls on the night before and tho morning after the robbery. Two of the Avitnesses were William Slattery and John Pollard, who wore travelling Avith the prisoner, and they declared that McKitt had not been absent day or night for a time sufficiently long to permit a visit to McSpeddon’s place. But the jury gaA’e Aveight to the positive evidence of identification given by McSpeddon and Clarke, and returned a \ r crdict of guilty. The judge passed a sentence of ten years on the roads, the first year in irons, and the carrier Avho had been voluntarily crossing the mountains Avhen bis journey was interrupted was taken over them aginst his will.