CHAPTER XVI.

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.