# The Chronicles of Early Melbourne/Volume 1/Chapter 29

CHAPTER XXIX.
EXECUTIONS:
The First in Port Phillip.—20th January, 1842.
SYNOPSIS:— Execution of Two Aboriginals, "Bob" and "Jack." —Jepps, Ellis and Fogarty, Bushrangers. —"Roger," Murderer of Mr. Codd. —Council, Murderer of Edward Martin. —The Beveridge Murderers, "Ptolemy" and "Booby." —John Healey, Murderer of James Ritchie. —Dauncey the "Pentonvillian" Murderer. —Kennedy for Wife Murder. —Banqueting the "Gentlemen Volunteers." —What Became of the "Fighting Five." —Melbourne Executioners. —Total Number of Executions from 1835 to 1888.
"BOB" and "Jack," the Vandemonian Aborigines, convicted of the murder of two sailors at Western Port, were the first persons hanged in Melbourne, and their execution was eagerly looked for by the thousands of persons who felt a morbid curiosity to witness the departure of the wretches out of the world. After their condemnation and removal to the condemned cell, the culprits regarded their position with levity, and were confident that not only would the extreme sentence be mitigated, but that they would be pardoned altogether, and permitted to return to Van Diemen's Land. Their minds seemed possessed by a delirious anticipation of the pleasure they would experience in going home to the Old Hunting Grounds of their race, and the zest with which they would resume those habits and customs of aboriginal life over the water, which they had voluntarily abandoned years before. But when the day was fixed for their execution, and they became sensible of the fact, all their castle-building was knocked to pieces—the fairy fabrics constructed by the imagination dissolved like mist, and the dark blank of impending death stunned them. "Bob" grew sulky and taciturn; confessed his guilt, but declared that the women had instigated the murder in vengeance for the death of some of their friends who, they said, had been killed at Port Arthur. Both were allowed to smoke in gaol, but on their last evening "Bob" knocked off his pipe, and refused to partake of food; whereas "Jack," on the other hand, grew positively jolly, and, so far from manifesting any diminution of appetite, disposed of a supper consisting of half a 4lb. loaf, with three pannikins of tea, and by way of promoting good digestion, laughed and joked immoderately after. His pipe was by no means neglected, and having puffed until he was tired, he handed the clay to "Bob," who refused it with a passionate wave of the hand, whereat "Jack" told him he was a fool, and might as well enjoy the good things of life to the end. The Rev. Mr. Thomson, the Church of England minister, passed a good portion of the night with them. "Bob" seemed much affected and contrite, weeping piteously at intervals; but "Jack" was the impersonation of callous indifference. At five o'clock on the morning of the execution, breakfast was served, and "Jack" devoured over 3lbs. of bread, washed down by two pannikins of tea, but "Bob" could eat nothing, though he drank a little. "Jack" next consoled himself with a long and last smoke, and during "his toilet" "Jack" laughed, snapped his fingers,and shouted "that he did not care a fig for anything." He said he was quite certain he was going to his father, to be happy with him kangaroo hunting over the sea. He also expressed a belief that he had three heads, viz.:— One for the gallows, another for the grave, and the third and best for Van Diemen's Land. At seven o'clock the Sheriff and the Chaplain arrived, when Divine Service was held in the prison yard. At eight o'clock the prisoners were removed in a vehicle. Thousands of persons had congregated, and such was the jostling and confusion, that a party of mounted police in attendance had difficulty in clearing a way for the death cart, which moved slowly ahead, surrounded by the shouting, laughing multitude, to whom it appeared to be a fine morning's fun. There was no Private Execution Act then in force, and it was necessary that the hanging of criminals should be performed in public. There was no Hospital, Public Library, or Court House to break the wild open country north of Lonsdale Street, and the walls of the intended New Gaol were only up to the height of some ten or twelve feet. ​T h e place of execution was fixed on a green eminence some yards north-west of the western extremity of the present Old Gaol, about where the modern wing terminates, near B o w e n Street. Approaching the spot from Swanston Street there was a gentle acclivity, the ground was grassy, and not unlike a forest in the c o m m e n c e m e n t of partial reclamation from original savagery, studded with large trees, and presenting to the townspeople, in the inspiring freshness of the infant day, a prospect noyv looked for in vain. O n this occasion there yvas shocking mismanagement in the construction of the scaffold, which was a kind of narroyv shaky stage, consisting of two stout uprights sunk in the ground about tyvelve feet apart, and to the top of each was nailed a beam, round which the ropes yvere twisted. Beneath, at a height of half-a-dozen feet, an eighteen-inch planking of wood was extended from each upright, and in the centre, not six feet long, was the drop, i.e., a portion of plank yvorking on a hinge at one end and sustained by several bricks and a piece of quartering at the other. Around the quartering yvas looped a piece of stout cordage, the other extremity of which was (on a signal from the hangman) to be pulled by a prisoner of the Croyvn, stationed close by for the purpose. W h e n the cord yvas drawn, the quartering and bricks yvere supposed to come ayvay, the drop fall, and the hanging was done. It was a "killing" contrivance of the roughest and most inhuman kind, and in its design yvas not unlike the trapping of birds in snowy yveather in the Mother-country a century ago. This remarkable invention was reached by tyvo short ladders as unstable as itself, and when mounted barely afforded standing room for the criminals and the executioner. Nothing could well be imagined more scanty and insecure ; in fact, it yvas only a degree removed from the proverbial " bucket," the kicking of which is supposed to have constituted the original form of English hanging.
A s the procession (which could not be called a melancholy one) slowly advanced, it yvas syvelled at every few yards by groups of open-mouthed sigl.t-seers, breathless for fear they should be too late. It passed by way of Collins, William, Lonsdale, and Swanston Streets, through the noyv Hospital and Public Library grounds to the gallows hill, where there yvere over 6,000 persons congregated. Early as yvas the hour, the town had not only turned out its inhabitants en masse, but the residents for a circuit of several miles in the country poured in as if to a carnival. It yvas the Christmas holiday tide, and there was consequently a large sprinkling of gay young bucks of bushmen, yvell mounted, and got up in the fashionable style of the period, in buff breeches and top boots, or strapped trousers, and shining spurs, as excited and jovial as if mustering, in a hunting field, or on a racecourse. T h e most prominentfigurein the whole assemblage was a well-known publican n a m e d B y n g — a tall, well-developed, Yankee blackfellow, yvho was dressed in the latest style, and astride a well-appointed prancing white horse. H e was, apparently, m u c h engrossed in the various turns of the tragedy, and from the consequential manner in which he bore himself was fully conscious of, and seemingly enjoyed, the short-lived notoriety of which he yvas the object. T h e part-built walls of the gaol, and the proximate g u m trees afforded plenty of gratuitous viewing accommodation; but the 'trees were almost exclusively appropriated by a horde of Aboriginals, w h o gathered in from the neighbouring tribes, anxious to see the m o d e in which the white fellows rid themselves of obnoxious coolies. Every bough had one or more of these coloured people billetted in its foliage ; and the swarm of big, dark, curly heads popping out from a m o n g the branches, m a d e an European almost believe that the birds had been dispossessed of their patrimonial inheritances, and supplanted by a race of huge black apes. T h e black spectators, hoyvever, behaved with decorum, and so far presented an example yvhich might have been advantageously followed by the " yvhite barbarians," w h o shouted and yelled and vented their gratification in explosions of uproarious merriment, as if they yvere participating in the greatest sport. Old w o m e n and young, with children of all ages, to the babies in arms, were there. W h e n the culprits arrived the Chaplain went through a twenty-minute farce of prayer reading, undeterred by frequent interruptions and loudly-expressed hints " to cut it short." During the offering of the prayers " B o b " never ceased crying, but "Jack" remained stolid. They yvere then pinioned, and "Jack " ascended the scaffold with difficulty by reason of his fastened arms. However, after some struggling, he got on to the staging and stood under one of the ropes. T h e executioner, w h o followed, proceeded to adjust the noose round his neck, during which he never winced, but asked that the cap might not be pulled over his eyes, "as he wished to look at ' B o b '" All this time " B o b " remained shaking below and howling loudly. H e shook hands with several ​persons near him, and then like a man walking in his sleep, when he reached the foot of the ladder, stumbled, and was helpless to go further. T w o policemen lent him a hand, and the hangman from above assisted; but even then he fell twice, stupefied with terror. AVhen the executioner and the two criminals were on the platform any movement on the part of either of the three might pitch one of them overboard, and the yvonder was that when the drop fell the hangman did not go doyvn unhanged with the others. O n being placed beside his companion, " B o b " yvas seized with afitof shivering, and the executioner losing no time in giving thefinishingtouch to his arrangements, at last the ropes yvere secured, and the yvhite caps pulled doyvn over the black faces. T h e chaplain underneath had been reading the burial service, and when he pronounced the well-known words, " In the midst of life w e are in death," the hangman signalled to the puller below, and the drop fell, but a horrible scene of strangulation folloyved. T h e ligature round the brick and timber support when tugged at, so worked that whilst the bricks were displaced the piece of wood settled obliquely, causing the " drop " to descend only half-way, and thus the tyvo poor wretches got jambed, and twisted and yvrithed convulsively in a manner that horrified even the most hardened, until a bystander had the presence of mind to knock away the quartering, the removal ofthe obstruction clearing the fall. " Jack " died instantaneously, but " B o b " kept on struggling for some minutes longer. Loud and long were the execrations vented upon the botching hangman (though he was not so m u c h to blame), w h o only "grinned horribly a ghastly smile " in reply, and m a n y of the w o m e n , w h o were as loquacious as chattering monkeys before, noyv changed their tune and got up a cry, which, for loudness at all events, would do no discredit to a full chorus of demented Banshees. T h e dead bodies remained suspended for an hour, the period prescribed by law, when they were cut down, placed in shells, and sent off to be interred close by, but outside the cemetery, in a corner of the now Victoria Market. For a whole hour, as an after-piece to the tragedy, most of the large croyvd remained, and then dispersed, the m e n to have a "nip" and the w o m e n to "beer" or gossip over the morning's performance. For the disgusting clumsiness of the execution the Clerk of AVorks yvas responsible, and deserved more severe treatment than a mere reprimand. It would, in fact, have been better if he had simply introduced the m o d e adopted at Tyburn in the era of Jack Sheppard—slung the halters from the bough of a tree, beneath which the cart could be drawn up, and then, when the noosing was completed, the vehicle to quickly m o v e off, and all would soon be over. The executioner, w h o had had no previous experience in the "turning-off" way, was also most inefficient and awkward with his work. This official was a prisoner of the Crown, named Davies, serving a sentence for life, and was chosen from half-a-dozen "applicants." T h e appointment was restricted to the convicts in the gaol, and the remuneration was a ticket-of-leave and a £ 1 0 note. That the two malefactors well deserved hanging there could be no doubt, for during the six weeks preceding the murder, they had committed a dozen daring robberies, and dangerously wounded two or three white m e n in the AVestern Port district.
THE BUSHRANGERS JEPPS, ELLIS, AND FOGARTY.—28TH JUNE, 1842.
During the interval betyveen the condemnation and execution of these three bushranging desperadoes, Melbourne ran almost literally hero-mad; and the air, so to speak, rang with the praises of thefivegallant volunteers w h o so bravely brought them to justice. O n e of them was then entangled in the Insolvency Jurisdiction of the Supreme Court, and if it had been possible to take a plebiscitum, his universal " whitewashing would have been voted nem. con. Gourlay, another, was out on bail to stand his trial for obstructing the police in the discharge of their duty at the recently held races; but the Crown Prosecutor declared in open Court that he could not find it in his heart to file an information against so brave a traverser; and the Judge approved ofthe nolle prosequi! A public meeting was held to express the sense of the community regarding the event, at which it was decided to present the volunteers with an address, and a case of pistols each, as well as to entertain them at a public dinner. T o all this no grateful or reasonable person could offer any objection. But the thing was carried too far; for, whilst the condemned criminals yvere alive and waiting their doomsday, what appeared to be an outrage on decency and humanity, was committed by the convivial gathering in question, of yvhich a detailed notice appears elsewhere in this chapter. ​AVhen the prisoners yvere returned to the gaol, after sentence was passed, Jepps and Ellis yvere attended by the Revs. A. C. T h o m s o n and James Forbes, the Episcopalian and Presbyterian ministers, to whose respective religious persuasions the tyvo convicts belonged ; Fogarty, as a R o m a n Catholic, yvas looked after by P"ather Stevens, the then priest at St. Francis'. T h e culprits became very penitent, and sent to Mr. Fowler, one of their captors, asking him to visit them. H e did so, and yvhen they sayv him they dropped on their knees and asked his forgiveness, which he freely gave, and kindly shook hands with them on leaving. At one of the clerical interviews it transpired that only that their career had been so shortened it was their intention to have murdered the Resident Judge. W h y or wherefore they had resolved on the assassination they could not say ; but they had talked it over amongst themselves, and the Judge's fate was sealed. H e resided at Heidelberg, and was always punctually in toyvn at a certain hour on every M o n d a y morning. This they kneyv, and it was their purpose to have watched for and shot him whilst crossing the Merri Creek. T h e violent death he had so providentially escaped terribly scared Judge Willis, and he could not rest until he had interviewed the prisoners. This he did accordingly, and in the presence of the other tyvo, Ellis confessed that yvhat had been stated had been settled upon, but that Jepps, though finally acquiescing, was atfirststrongly opposed to the killing of the Judge. This had such an effect upon the intended victim, that if there had been sufficient time to have communicated with the Executive in Sydney, he would have sought to obtain a commutation of the extreme penalty on Jepps ; but there yvas neither railway nor telegraph inter-communication to delay or countermand the issue of the death yvarrants, and the Judge yvas constrained to let the law take its course.
T h e Overland Mail at length arrived with the officialfiatthat the prisoners were to be hanged on the 28th June.
T h e place and appliances of the execution were somewhat similar to those already recorded, except that the stage or planking was larger and more firmly secured.
T h e Rev. M r . T h o m s o n administered the Sacrament to Jepps and Ellis, whilst Father Stevens attended Fogarty in another room. AArhen the Sheriff (Mr. R a y m o n d ) m a d e his appearance, each prisoner was taken separately into the prison yard and his fetters struck off. H e was then handcuffed and capped, but not pinioned, and brought back to the cell. Jepps and Ellis went through this ordeal firmly; but Fogarty burst out crying, and upon being spoken to, declared " he did not cry through fear of death, but after his friends at home." A large open cart, with three rough coffins placed in it, was driven up to the gaol door, and an escort of military and mounted police was drawn around. T h e door, yvhich opened into Collins Street, yvas drayvn back, and the three prisoners and four clergymen stepped out in Indianfile; assisted by the gaoler and a turnkey, the prisoners mounted the cart, and each, yvith his back to the horse, sat down upon his coffin! This was very different treatment from that given to the black murderers, hanged some months before ; for their coffins were not produced until after the bodies yvere cut down, and "Jack" and " B o b " were driven in a covered two-horse van on their last journey.
All being in readiness, the officer in charge of the soldiers sang out the yvord " March," and the " death march " accordingly commenced, moving up Collins Street and through Queen Street. A temporary halt was accidentally made, turning by yvhat was then known as "Mortimer's Corner" into Lonsdale Street when the prisoners became excited. T h e procession again moved on down Lonsdale Street, along Swanston Street to its destination. There yvere not less than seven thousand persons present, and, with shame be it spoken, a very large preponderance of w o m e n and children. " Syvells " from the neighbourhood of the town, and from all the country for miles around ; and, as before, well-mounted, smartly-dressed settlers, with top boots and cord breeches, cantered about as if out on some equestrian spree. It appeared like a great gala celebration instead of the punishment of three guilty fellow-creatures. Jepps and Ellis knelt d o w n to prayer, with the reverend gentlemen attending them, whilst Father Stevens engaged in devotions with Fogarty. T h e prisoners yvere then brought together, and Jepps, supported by the arm of the Rev. Mr. Forbes, thus addressed the assemblage: " Fellow Christians! you see before you three young m e n in the prime of life and strength about to suffer on the scaffold for the crime of bushranging. I trust you will take warning by our untimely fate, and avoid those crimes which have brought 11s to this end. G o o d people, I most humbly beg your prayers to the Almighty on our behalf. I die in the faith of our salvation through the blood of our Divine Redeemer." ​The handcuffs being removed, the culprits were pinioned by the executioner. Ellis yvas the first to ascend the scaffold, assisted by the Rev. Mr. AVilkinson ; Jepps and Fogarty followed, with the aid of the Revs. Messrs Forbes and Stevens. AVhen the three wretches yvere standing together under the gallows, they shook hands one with the other, and Fogarty, looking at Jepps, exclaimed " Farewell! W e shall soon meet in eternity." T h e executioner then shook hands twice yvith each of them, adjusted the ropes, and dreyv the caps d o w n over their faces; and whilst operating upon Jepps, the latter said to him, " M a y G o d bless you and your poor soul." T h e Rev. Mr. T h o m s o n proceeded with the reading of the burial service, and whilst he was doing so, the culprits appeared to suffer terribly. Ellis was hardly able to keep his feet, and took a slanting position, as if sustained by the rope ; whilst Jepps gave convulsive starts, and Fogarty opened and closed his hands several times. At length the supports were knocked away, the drop fell, and the three m e n died without a struggle. After hangingforan hour, the bodies were cut down, placed in the coffins (but not before the hangman, with outrageous indecency, had pulled off their clothes), carted ayvay, and interred in the malefactors' burial-place close by, but outside, the fence ofthe Cemetery. T h e executioner yvent through bis work m u c h more artistically than he did at the hanging of the blacks in January. His unskilfulness then yvas so universally censured as to m a k e him fearful of losing the " appointment;" and in order to be more up to his work the next time, and hopeful of making his post a permanency, he procured the strayv effigy of a h u m a n figure, and upon this model yvas in the habit of taking frequent private rehearsals. H e got £ 2 0 and their clothes for dispatching the bushrangers. " J a c k " AVilliams, the leader (who was shot) and Fogarty were what were k n o w n as "Bounty Immigrants," i.e., free persons whose passage to the colony was paid for out of the Land Fund. Fogarty was the son of a farm labourer, and born in Templemore, County Tipperary, Ireland. H e had lost his mother whilst a mere boy. It yvas said that he turned approver in a murder case at home, and after helping to hang his companions, and receiving his share of the "blood-money," found his way to the Antipodes. Arriving in the colony about a year before bis death, he obtained employment with a well-known butcher, named R o e ; but, becoming neglectful of his duties and irregular in his habits, he was discharged, took lodgings at Seymour's, and picked up with his companions in crime there. H e was not quite 19 years of age. Daniel Jepps yvas 27 years old, and a native of Boston, U.S.A. H e was k n o w n as "Yankee Jack." For ten years he led a roving life in South Sea yvhaling vessels, was of highly respectable connexions, and had received a liberal education. H e yvas the captain of a merchantman, trading to the port of Sydney in 1841, and at the close of that year travelled overland to Melbourne, yvhere he idled his time, dissipated his money, and ended by putting up at Seymour's. Ellis, about the same age as Fogarty, yvas a native of Surrey in England, and came of poor, but honest, parents. At an early age he was compelled to look out for himself, and yvent to sea. Arriving in Sydney as cook of an immigrant ship about the time that Jepps was starting southward, Ellis, as if by some fatality, followed in his track, travelled also overland to Melbourne, and came to an anchorage at Seymour's, where he met, for thefirsttime, his co criminals. THE MURDERER OF MK. CODD.—5™ SEPTEMBER, 1842.
After the condemnation of Figara Alkepurata, alias " Roger," for the murder of Mr. Codd at Mount Rouse, he took the yvorld easily enough, seemed chiefly interested in practically testing h o w m u c h of the prison fare he could absorb. O n the receipt of the warrant for his execution, Judge Willis, w h o yvas often disposed to be ultra sensational, hastened to the gaol, and personally communicated the fatal intelligence. H e expected an aboriginal scene, but both himself and his news were received with a stoical impassibility disappointing to His Honor. " Roger" appeared quite unconcerned, so the Judge left highly offended, but could do nothing, for the blackfellow was beyond the reach of denunciations or " attachments." For some unexplained reason, "Roger," during the interval betyveen sentence and punishment, was not placed in separate confinement, but was one of twenty-six unfortunates thrust into one apartment. As the day of his death drew nigh, " R o g e r " apparently withdrew into himself, and was often observed to retire into a corner of the room and shed tears. AVhen asked w h y he did so, he merely shook ​his head and said nothing. He persisted in denying any complicity in the murder, stating that it had been done by other blackfellows; of death he professed the utmost indifference, and his belief in futurity yvent to the extent of his being sure that immediately after death he would be transformed into a white.man, and so yvould remain ever after. T h e few hours he passed in bed the night before the execution were frequently broken by short troubled snatches of sleep. H e rose at 6 a.m., and yvas removed from the c o m m o n cell to the reception room, yvhere he was supplied with mutton chops, bread, and tea, of which he breakfasted sparingly. M r . G. A. Robinson, chief of the Aboriginal Protectorate, yvas at the gaol at an early hour, and during an intervieyv yvith him, the prisoner yvas very low-spirited, and sobbed frequently. At half-past seven he yvas taken to something like a butcher's chopping block in the yard, on which his fetters were knocked off, and during the operation he appeared quite composed. AA'hen apparelled, he beckoned Robinson to c o m e to him, and declared it to be a great mistake to think that he killed Codd, for on the day of the murder he yvas away from the place, and so sick that he yvas not able to yvalk; also that some blackfellows yvho yvere allowed to see him in prison, had told him that the two m e n by yvhom C o d d yvas murdered had since died ; as for the yvhite felloyvs they had plenty g a m m o n , but he had none, that C o d d had brought his death on himself for being too free yvith the black "lubras," several of yvhom he had ill-used, and had killed m a n y of the black m e n . H e also said that he kneyv for a fact that since Codd's death the lives of several of the natives had been taken. Robinson having remarked that he should soon see his ("Roger's") yvife and children, and would tell them all about him, the prisoner's reply yvas, " T h e n there will be plenty of crying yvhen you do." In a few yvords further conversation, Robinson alluded to the prisoner's brother, " Milk-and-AVater," and "Roger" broke out in a loudfitof wailing. H e yvas next taken back to the public room, and a yvhite calico cap was with some difficulty put on through his offering resistance, and it being somewhat tight for his big head. H e tried to speak to Robinson, but his tongue failed ; and though the muscles of the mouth yvere seen to work, vox faucibus hæsit, his eyes lighted up in intense agitation. H e yvas then handcuffed and conducted to the door, outside yvhich a horse and cart yvere drayvn up surrounded by an escort of mounted police and some of the soldiers from the barracks close by. There yvas no minister of religion in attendance, and prayers yvere consequently dispensed with. " Roger" was lifted out of the cart and the handcuffs were taken off and pinions on his arms substituted. Davies, the executioner, took him in charge and led .him up the step-ladder by yvhich the scaffold was reached; but just as the culprit was mounting the third step aloud authoritative voice sung out to them to halt. T h e hangman looked about in amazement, causing the criminal to seat himself, yvhich he did without hesitation. It was rumoured that the hanging of the blackfellow was only a ruse to frighten him, to bring him to death's door as a frightful warning, and then let him off. S o m e of the wise-acres shook their heads, and whispered to their neighbours that they had known all along hoyv it would be. It was all a " dodge " — t h e Government had never intended to have the black hanged, and all this m a k e shoyv yvas to frighten him; and after he had been so warned, he would be turned over to the Protectorate, and alloyved by them after a little further detention to regain his tribe and play up his deadly tricks again on the white population. Absurd as this kind of yarning yvas, it spread rapidly through the assembled thousands, w h o did not at all like being humbugged in this yvay. They yvould not be baulked out of their morning's fun, and "they were darned if they'd stand such tom-foolery." T h e vox populi was about to burst out in unmeasured discontent, when, some quarter of an hour having elapsed, it was ascertained that the cause of the ill-timed delay yvas an unpunctual Sheriff, yvho had either forgotten or overslept himself, and w h o n o w arrived puffing and blowing, and breathlessly tokened the proceedings to be resumed. T h e m a n could not be hanged if the Sheriff was not there ; and n o w that the hangman's administrative superior was on the field "Jack Ketch" was free to continue his so strangely interrupted work. All this time "Roger " remained ​sitting, and looking about him like a wild beast at bay. AVho can tell what new-born hope was throbbing in his heart, or yvhat were the feelings with yvhich he beheld the grinning, excited, merry-looking faces circled round him. There being no further impediment, the criminal resumed his ascent of the ladder. The executioner, yvho was noyv an adept at his business, placed " Roger " under the beam, quickly arranged the rope and cap ; after yvhich the drop fell, and with three or four struggles, life was gone. The deceased was reputed to be a great fighting m a n amongst his people. H e was brother of the chief of the Jarcoota tribe, yvho occupied a large territory in the westward, about 100 miles from Portland. H e was a m a n of a robust, well-built physique, and left two wives and several brothers, but no children. His oyvn tribe had been once numerous and powerful, but was almost extinct through native warfare, infanticide, and disease. It was said that the Judge had recommended that the sentence should be carried out at the place where "Roger" had committed the murder, in the hope of striking terror into the blacks; but this was not done in consequence, as was believed, of the large expense that would be incurred thereby. T h e scaffold was in some measure an improvement upon the one employed for the execution of the bushrangers, but it was an uncouth and repulsive looking object. T h e Executive of the time was very penurious in all matters appertaining to Port Phillip, and to save a paltry £ 5 note—the cost of removing it—it was actually alloyved to remain up for some time, until the Press indignantly denounced the standing eye-sore as an outrage upon public decency, and at length, through mere shame-sake, the Superintendent had it taken down. For more than four years, though there were several convictions for murder, no criminal was executed, in consequence of the existence of some doubts as to the legality of the amoval of Judge Willis. The difficulty was said to have originated with Judge Jeffcott, the immediate successor of the unbenched Judge; and, though it was also stated that the Judges and law officers at Sydney did not concur, there was yet a disinclination to carry out any extreme penalty of the law, pending the decision of the Privy Council on Willis's appeal. Even the semblance of an obstacle was at length removed by time, and henceforth there was no restriction to the law taking its course, whenever the Executive thought it desirable to enforce it to the uttermost. THE BUNINYONG MURDERER.—27TH JANUARY, 1847.
Jeremiah Connell, the convict condemned to die for the murder of Edward Martin, at Buninyong, bore his fate with much firmness. H e entertained some wild hopes of a reprieve, as nearly all criminals do though there was no tangible reason yvhy the prerogative of mercy should be interposed on his behalf so long as capital punishment for murder remained the law of the land. A memorial had been forwarded) praying for a commutation ; but the grounds for clemency were weak, and only non-compliance with its prayer could have been expected even by those who signed it. By a singular coincidence, the " Shamrock," steamer, from Sydney, which brought the unfortunate man's death warrant, also had as a passenger the official who was to give it effect. This was thefirstduly appointed executioner in the district, which had noyv a hangman provided for on the Estimates. His name was Jack Harris, and he was as great a scoundrel as hangmen usually are. T h e 27th January was fixed for the execution. After this Connell appeared doggedly indifferent as to how time went, or what happened, and more than once declared " he was quite content to die." H e attributed his crime to gross ill-treatment, which he averred he had received at the public-house yvhere the murder occurred, and at other times would say that the murder scene was a complete blank in his memory, for he had not the least recollection of it. For thefirsttime in the Province the execution yvas to be intra-mural, and the scaffold was erected in the north-western yard of the gaol, adjoining the treadmill—the drop on a level with the outer wall, so that the criminal would be wholly visible until "turned off," and the moment the bolt was drawn about three-fourths of him would disappear, leaving only the white calicoed face, shoulders, and breast to be seen by the outsiders. T h e reason for changing the place of execution from outside to inside yvas said to be some vague apprehension in the mind of Captain Lonsdale (then Acting Superintendent during a temporary absence of Mr. Latrobe in Van Diemen's Land) that a rescue was meditated. This notion was simply preposterous, as there never was any such intention. A very unpleasant episode occurred in the prison, arising out of this business. The ​turnkey, named Griffin, selected four prisoners yvho belonged to the same country and creed as the condemned culprit to assist in the construction of the gallows, and they refused to do so. Their names were AVhelan, Crawley, Mitchell, and Connors (the latter an intimate friend of Connell's), and, on bein^ brought before Mr. James Smith, the Visiting Magistrate, for disobedience, he sentenced them each to fifty lashes on the morning of (and just after) the execution. AVhen this became known m u c h public indignation was aroused; some of the newspapers inveighed bitterly against such harshness, and the punishment yvas remitted by Captain Lonsdale. I was aftenvards informed, upon reliable authority, that the Acting Superintendent was influenced a good deal by the perusal of a letter signed " Verax," published in the Herald, and of yvhich I was the writer. In the early sunny morning groups of people began to wend their way towards the gaol, and at 7.30 a detachment of military marched up, and were stationed in the front or end yard, and all the available police yvere distributed outside. T h e prisoner professed the R o m a n Catholic faith, and yvas spiritually advised by the Rev. Father Therry. T h e prisoner, w h o passed a restless night, was up early, and partook sparingly of breakfast. At half-past eight the Sheriff m a d e his formal demand, and Connell accordingly went forth from the condemned cell, holding a crucifix in one hand, accompanied by Father Therry, and followed by the sheriff, gaoler, and several turnkeys. Traversing the corridor and into the yard, both priest and penitent recited a litany, and the manner of the latter was such as to apparently indicate m u c h sincerity, whilst his responses were uttered with deep fervour. O n coming into the presence of the apparatus of death he looked up, and, preceded by the hangman, moving firmly forward, unhelped and unshrinking, ascended the ladder on to the scaffold, and, folloyved by the priest and a turnkey, stood firmly under the waving rope. T h e m o m e n t he was seen by the h u m a n gathering outside he yvas greeted with a loud hoarse burst of commiseration. Grasping the crucifix in his hand, he gazed mournfully upon the couple of thousand up looking h u m a n faces, and, turning to Father Therry, asked to have the crucifix suspended from his neck, which was done. Connell then, yvith eyes glancing high over the heads of the people out into the green forest, exclaimed, in an unfaltering voice : " I never intended to kill the man, or any other man. I a m more sorry for taking his life than for losing m y o w n ; I a m sorry for it from the bottom of m y heart, and I pray to G o d for a favourable judgment." H e then kissed the turnkey (one Sullivan, w h o had been kind to him whilst in prison), and shook hands with priest and executioner. T h e rope was next placed round Connell's neck, and knotted, and, as the cap was being drawn over his head, the poor wretch endeavoured ineffectually with one of his shackled hands to button his coat. All this time his bearing evidenced nerve in a wonderful degree. T h e bolt was drawn, but as the drop fell the rope-knot shifted under the culprit's chin, and for some eight minutes he seemingly suffered excruciating torture during a process of death by strangulation. During the terrible struggle, his hard smothered efforts to breathe were distinctly heard by the dozen persons present in the treadmill-yard, and, had not the "fall" been a long one, the horrible spectacle would no doubt have been further protracted. T h e mishap was said to have been brought about by two causes, viz. : — R o p e of the proper thickness was unobtainable in Melbourne, and consequently coir had to be used; and next, though the executioner had been an attache of the Sheriff's department in Sydney, he had never been more than a "hanging" assistant, and the present was thefirstoperation performed by him. O n e of the newspaper representatives, becoming very indignant at Harris's bungling, told the old fellow a bit of his mind as he leaped from the ladder and looked up at the swinging corpse; but Jack took it very coolly, hinted to the other something about the propriety of people minding their o w n business, that perfection in any art yvas not attained at once, and he would take care and do it better the next time. T h e body yvas handed over to a friend of the deceased, w h o took it ayvay in a coffin, "waked" it that night in Collingwood, and had it interred early next morning. Connell was 28 years of age, loyv-sized, stout-made, and a native of the County Cork, Ireland. H e arrived in Melbourne as a "Bounty Immigrant" in 1842, and had no relative in Australia. H e was industriously disposed, and very inoffensive whilst sober; but when intoxicated, passionate and pugnacious. A few days before his execution Connell placed in the hands of the Rev. Mr. Therry a written paper setting forth what he declared to be a truthful narrative of the circumstances which led to the murder. It was published the morning after in the Herald, and was a minute recapitulation of a series of public-house ​squabbles, in which Connell was represented as the butt of a lot of drunken fellows during a whole afternoon, m a n y of w h o m insulted, and others assaulted him on account of his country and his creed. The assault, which culminated in Martin's death, had been (as alleged), provoked by prior quarrelling and ill-usage. T h e precision yvith yvhich this statement set out everything in detail yvas utterly inconsistent with the drunken obliviousness urged for the defence at the prisoner's trial, and did not obtain much credence. THE BEVERIDGE MURDERERS.—30TH APRIL, 1847.
Special care was taken in providing for the safe keeping of "Ptolemy" and "Booby" after their conviction, and when returned to the gaol they were heavily ironed. M r . William Thomas, one of the Assistant Protectors of Aborigines, was frequent in his attendance upon t h e m ; though as he was altogether unacquainted with their language or customs he could render them but little benefit. T h e execution was appointed for the 30th April. T h e following day Messrs. AVintle (gaoler), and T h o m a s repaired to the prisoners' cell, and on its being explained to them that they were soon to be put to death, both burst into tears. It was understood that some ultra philanthropists in Sydney had endeavoured to procure a mitigation of the extreme punishment, for which there was no reasonable ground whatever. A faint ray of this intelligence in some unaccountable manner gleamed upon the darkness surrounding the prisoners, and kindled a hope to be suddenly extinguished. R u m o u r s had also reached Melbourne, that the native tribe to which they belonged was fully aware of what was taking place in Melbourne, and that several chiefs had openly vowed a bloody vengeance, by the retaliations they would m a k e upon the lives and property of the settlers located in their country, during the approaching winter, when the floods would present facilities for wreaking retribution. It was consequently suggested by some of the newspapers that the criminals should be taken to the Murray, and there, on the spot where the murder had been committed, hanged in a manner that would strike terror into the hearts of intending evil-doers ; but the Executive decided otherwise. Meanwhile, time began to work a change in the minds and demeanour of the criminals, and as each day passed since the irrevocablefixingof their fate, they became more depressed in spirits, and appeared at times as if feeling some contrition for their crime. "Ptolemy" was m u c h the firmer and more indifferent. Indeed, " B o o b y " greyv so attenuated, that in little more than a week he shrank to almost skin and bone. Both prisoners used to frequently break out in excessivefitsof sobbing, and so remain for hours. At last they began to entertain a dim comprehension of a future state; they yvere getting easier in their minds, and more reconciled to the inevitable. S o m e Goulburn black-fellows coming to Melbourne, two of them were permitted to interview the criminals, an event from which the latter appeared to derive deep satisfaction. "Booby" especially was m u c h comforted by this last "yabber" with his fellow-countrymen. The Reverend Father Geoghegan, at the services at St. Francis' on the Sunday before the execution, m a d e a powerful appeal to his congregation to abstain from attending such disgustingly demoralizing exhibitions as public executions. T h e Press also wrote in the same strain, and to such laudable remonstrances was no doubt attributable the greatly diminished number collected outside the gaol on the fatal morning. The gallows was raised in the same part of the gaol yard as upon the previous occasion; but there was this difference in its construction, that the fall was to be n o w deeper than before, so that when the culprits dropped they would disappear altogether from the outward view, instead of having the bust visible as in Connell's case. The prisoners passed their last night and early morning in extreme nervousness, "Booby" especially. They would have nothing to eat, but drank some tea, and were attended by Mr. Thomas, with Messrs. French and Lacy (who interpreted at their trial). AVhen their irons were struck away, they appeared as if pervaded by a sudden burst of relief, which yvas quickly stilled when their arms yvere strapped, and the yvhite caps put on. T h e form of reading a prayer yvas then gone through by Mr. T h o m a s , but it was nothing more than the emptiest of formulas, as they for w h o m it was intended neither understood nor heeded a single syllable uttered. At eight o'clock they were led out into the corridor, and thence to the treadmill yard. They started on seeing a dozen white fellows in waiting for them; and when led to the foot of the scaffold both looked upward and began to cry. "Ptolemy," though greatly distressed, rallied sufficient resolution to enable ​him to mount the ladder yvithout help; but "Booby" could not do so, and had to be aided by Mr. French. W h e n on the platform "Booby," as if dazed, turned away, seemingly powerless; but "Ptolemy" stood firm and immovable as a statue. T h e executioner was this time more expert yvith his yvork, and the rope being quickly adjusted and the caps pulled over, the drop went down and "Ptolemy" died momentarily. It was not so with "Booby," who, as he was commencing the leap in the dark, essayed a last desperate effort to stave off death, and pushing one of his feet against a portion of the platform, his fall yvas thus broken, when after nearly turning a somersault he dropped doyvn, and terminated his existence in lengthened and violent convulsions. Amongst the attendance was a large number of aborigines from the tribes of the Upper Yarra, AVestern Port, and M o u n t Macedon, whose demeanour was a marked contrast to the loud laughter and coarse gibes of the white people, the great majority of w h o m were w o m e n , old and young, handsome and ugly. THE GIPPSLAND MURDERER.—29TH NOVEMBER, 1847.
John Healey, alias " Pretty Boy," convicted of the murder of James Ritchie, at Tarraville, became in some degree resigned to his fate after removal to the condemned cell, but was hopeful of receiving a pardon. It was remarked of him by the prison officials that he was the least troublesome convict ever in their charge. H e repeatedly declared " that he was drunk on the night of the murder, and the other tyvo m e n yvere the murderers." During the time intervening from his trial to his execution, he expressed deep contrition for past transgressions, and his conduct presented a marked difference to that of all other criminals executed in the district. H e persisted to the last in protesting his innocence, averring that the crime for which he was to yield up his life had been committed by others. A careful perusal of a full report of the trial leads to an almost irresistible conclusion not of the prisoner's innocence, but an incompleteness in the welding of the chain of circumstantial evidence coiled round h i m — a link or a strengthening of a link, or a something else wanted to thoroughly establish the identity of the prisoner as the murderer. H e had prepared an elaborate statement, sought to demonstrate that he had been wrongfully convicted, and that it would be an enormous abuse of justice to hang him and allow tyvo of the witnesses w h o syvore against him to get off free, they being, as he declared, the true homicides. This appeal was ineffectual, and the prisoner was ordered for execution on the 29th November. Father Geoghegan and Dean Coffey were in attendance upon him, and one or both continued so up to the last moment. Healey expressed a wish to be hanged in the same moleskin trousers and redflannelshirt in which he yvas said to be dressed when he killed Ritchie. His desire was gratified. O n emerging from the cell Father Geoghegan offered a consolatory remark, to which the prisoner, as in reply, declared, " If I got the yveight of myself in gold, I do not think I should exchange for it. I a m glad to die for m y sins, and I am sure G o d will forgive m e !" After entering the corridor, the Sheriff asked one of those absurdly purposeless questions which Sheriffs have been asking time immemorial from prisoners on the road to death, " If he was satisfied with the treatment he had received in gaol ?" to yvhich, as a matter of course, an affirmative reply was returned. T h e prisoner then begged permission, when on the scaffold, to address a few remarks to the people outside, on the evils of drink and bad company; but Father Geoghegan advised him not to do so. T h e prisoner concurred, and, looking into the faces of the few persons standing around, in a steady, unfaltering voice, said: " From the time I was a child up to this m o m e n t I never had a thought of doing any harm to Ritchie, and I a m not guilty of murdering him. I do not know anyone that had a thought of murdering him, but I a m willing to dieform y sins." T h e executioner next stepped forth, and quickly buckled the pinion strap. T h e two priests accompanied the prisoner, chanting a litany, to which Healey responded. Though the responses became weaker, he passed into the gallows yard, and, unaided, mounted to the drop, followed by Father Geoghegan. It was now raining, and the priest descending, the few remaining formalities were hastily got over, and there was an end of the prisoner, yvho died very quietly. The attendance of the public was very small, not more than about three hundred, where there used to be twice as m a n y thousands. T h e gathering outside seemed ill-humoured and impatient, and vented not over mild imprecations upon the gaol authorities for keeping them out in the rain. Just as the prisoner became visible on the drop, a sudden gust of wind swept overhead, as if about to unroof the prison, followed by an ​instantaneous fall of rain which washed the dying exit of the prisoner from human sight, half drowned the spectators, and added to the gloominess of the scene. John Healey was a m a n of stout build, ruddy complexion, pock-pitted, and dark haired. H e was a native of M a y o (AVest of Ireland), born in 1806, and on the 13th March, 1832, was tried at Sligo for stealing an ass, and, on conviction, was sentenced to seven years' transportation, leaving a wife and child behind. H e was forwarded to N e w South AATales, and arrived in Sydney per the convict ship " Portland " in 1833. THE " PENTONVILLIAN " MURDERER.—IST AUGUST, 1848.
Augustus Dauncey, the young Pentonville "exile," sentenced to death for the murder of a younger companion, lay in the condemned cell. His youth and intelligence, and the cool recklessness of his conduct, attracted a good deal of public attention. T h e prisoner was condemned on the 16th June, and on the 18th July, Dr. Perry (the Anglican Bishop) visited the gaol, where service was performed, and in an interview with the prisoner expressed a few kind words of admonition, but was coolly assured that " he might spare himself the trouble, as he (Dauncey) knew all that before." This was not said in a jaunty or impudent tone, but as if giving expression to what he believed to be the truth. T h e order for the execution was received in Melbourne at 11 a.m. on the 18th July, and the Sheriff (Mr. Alastair M'Kenzie), a timid, well-meaning mite of a Scotchman, proceeded forthwith to communicate the ultimatum of the Executive. Dauncey heard this with the utmost unconcern, and said, " O h , this is only what I expected. I knew very well it would happen; 1 expected to die a fortnight ago. I assure you, sir, I feel both happy and comfortable, and calculate to go to heaven right off, as I a m innocent." T h e Sheriff remonstrated with the prisoner upon such indifference to his terrible position, but Dauncey told him he might m a k e himself easy on that score ; and he would save time and trouble by quietly " shutting up." Hoyvever, he would thank him very m u c h for a bit of tobacco, for it was the only consolation he cared about. This was a quietus for the Sheriff, w h o withdrew rather unceremoniously. Dauncey was m a d e aware that he was to be executed on the ist August, and when a turnkey brought him his dinner shortly after, he carelessly remarked, " All I shall have is thirteen dinners more." T h e next day he said, " T h e dinners are now down to twelve;" and so on at dinner-time every day he noted the gradually numerical diminution. T h e Rev. Mr. Thomson, Episcopalian minister, was in daily attendance at the condemned cell, but his ministrations were useless, for the prisoner was unwilling to speak on the subject of the murder, and whenever that was mooted, he promptly, and indeed pertly, changed the discourse. Singularly enough, Dauncey, whilst in gaol, read regularly from Bible and Prayer-book; and notwithstanding his sang froid by day, he was subject to frequent nocturnalfitsof insomnia, and declared that something was about to catch him. Phantoms of every conceivable shape filled the room, and prominent amongst them yvas the bloody corpse of Lucke. O n one occasion he remarked " that he might blame himself for being hanged, for if he had not stated that he had seen Lucke on the day of the murder, nothing could have happened to him." O n Sunday, before the execution, the Rev. Mr. Thomson preached a " condemned sermon." Dauncey never looked towards the preacher. U p to the day preceding the execution there was no falling off in his appetite, and he consumed not only his ordinary rations, but also some extras supplied through the Rev. M r . Thomson. H e begged the Chaplain to procure him a pair of white trousers and a white shirt, in which to die decently, and his requirements were satisfied. H e declared " that when on the drop he should take good care and let the people know something." But he felt a strong presentiment that he should be reprieved, and the Chaplain found him in a state of mind extremely indisposed to listen to religious consolation. H e told the reverend gentleman point blank that remonstrances were useless, for he was positively certain that a something or other would intervene to stay the arm of the law. During the last night one of the prisoners was posted in the condemned cell, but both sentinel and criminal fell asleep. O n awaking, Dauncey said, " I was never so happy in m y life as this moment, and the reason is, because I a m as innocent as a child unborn of the offence for which m y life is to be forfeited." T o this the sentinel rejoined, " I a m equally innocent of the offence for which I a m punished; and I shall be going out on Thursday." "Ah, but," responded Dauncey, " I shall have the start of you, for I shall be going out to-morroyv morning." Dauncey arose at 6.30 a.m, and was un-ironed at 7. H e then with a vigorous appetite tackled a breakfast, one of the elements ​of which comprised three large cuts of beef steak, which he totally disposed of. Thus fortified he was in good condition for the Rev. Mr. Thomson, w h o persisted in entreating him to make an acknowledgment of his guilt, in the hope of obtaining pardon for his sins; but to no purpose. Dauncey yvas next led back to his cell, where he donned his white shirt and trousers, and yvith his own hands put on the ill-omened white cap. Devotions yvere renewed, in which the criminal joined in a distinct and apparently cheerful voice. T h e appointments for the execution were the same as before, and Dauncey looked up at the "drop" and smiled. Politely declining the executioner's arm in the ascent of the ladder, and bowing that functionary on before him, he closely followed, and on reaching the top briskly kicked off his shoes. H e advanced close to the wall, and elevating his voice he thus spoke :—" Gentlemen, and all of you ; I have just a few words to say to you; I hope you will all take warning by me." (Here he stopped for some seconds, as if unable to proceed. H e seemed to make an effort to articulate ; but all utterance ceased, as if his tongue had been temporarily paralysed. H e soon recovered, and was able to proceed.) " I a m quite innocent of the crime for which I a m going to die, and I hope G o d will forgive them who syvore against me. M a y G o d bless you all 1 " Retiring a little he was immediately in the hands of the hangman, who rapidly completed his arrangements. T h e Chaplain proceeded with the burial service, in the midst of yvhich Dauncey passed without a struggle into eternity. O n this occasion there were about two thousand persons present, and their behaviour indicated m u c h improvement. There was a marked falling off in the number of w o m e n and children as compared with previous executions. Augustus Dauncey was a native of AVooten-under-edge, in Gloucestershire, England. H e was born on the 25th July, 1829, and was in his nineteenth year. H e was by trade a blacksmith ; had been half-a-dozen times in prison, and ultimately was sentenced to seven years' transportation. H e was transferred to the Parkhurst Reformatory, where his conduct was good, and he was permitted to become yvhat was known as an " Exile." O n the passage to Melbourne, he made the acquaintance of the murdered lad, yvho conceived a strong affection for him, and regarded him in the light of a protector. During his incarceration no criminal could be better behaved, nor, considering his years, display more fortitude. So well did prison life agree with him, that he fattened on it, an incident recorded of no other criminal cast for death. A singular occurrence happened in connection with this tragedy. O n the morning of the execution there was found a heap of stones piled on the spot at Stoney Creek where Lucke was murdered, and on the top yvas planted a small, rudely constructed gallows, from which dangled the figure of a doll. This yyas removed by the police, but the next day there was a second doll exhibit, and on the disappearance of this, the third morning yvitnessed the suspension of a piece of wood in the doll's place. This was regarded as a demonstration of feeling by some of Lucke's shipmates. In the course of the yveek the Sheriff placed at the service of the Melbourne newspapers a yvritten statement prepared by Dauncey. It yvas an ingeniously and evasively constructed narrative, in yvhich the author persisted in asserting his innocence. It yvent back to his early life, and his honest and industrious parentage, his father being a small farmer and market gardener. H e was the only member of a family of seven, who had ever been in prison. His troubles began by disobeying his parents, Sabbath breaking, and running away from home. H e was grateful for the consideration shown him by Mr. and Mrs. AVintle (the gaoler and his wife), and the kind offices of the Rev. Mr. Thomson, Miss Langlands, a Mr. Smith, and Mr. Joseph Lowe. THE MOUNT ROUSE AVIFE SLAYER.—I8TH OCTOBER, 185 I.
Patrick Kennedy convicted of the murder of his wife, was after his condemnation, religiously ministered to by Dr. Geoghegan, the senior pastor of the R o m a n Catholic Church, the Revs. J. J. Bleasedale, H . Geoghegan, and Madden. It was decided by the Executive that the point of law reserved at the trial should receive every consideration, and it was accordingly transmitted to the Full Court at Sydney. T h e prisoner, therefore, in any case, would have the benefit of " a long day ;" for supposing the decision to be averse to him, his execution could not take place for some weeks. During the terrible interval of his suspension between life and death, the condemned criminal passed his time in quiet and resignation, indulging in fitful gleams O'f hope of a reprieve, never to be realised. In addition to the ecclesiastical staff before mentioned, a youth named O'Farrell, was delegated to read frequently to the prisoner. If this youth had bad the gift ​of prescience—if it were possible for him to con his own fate between the lines in the prayer book from which he recitedforK e n n e d y — h e would have descried amongst approaching, though still distant, shadows, the silhouette of another prison in another colony, wherein, not past the prime of life, he would himself be the occupant of a condemned cell, and the recipient of spiritual comforts such as he yvas n o w himself administering. In 1867, this identical person (O'Farrell), was executed in Sydney for the attempted assassination of the D u k e of Edinburgh, at Clontarf. T h e 18th October was n a m e d for the execution. Turnkeys relieved each other, in the culprit's cell, but yvith them he scarcely exchanged a word ; and, buried in himself, heedless of passing events, he spent the days in semi-somnolent abstraction. O f the poor yvife so ruthlessly murdered he spoke kindly, and was heard more than once to say : " M a r y was an excellent w o m a n , and a good mother to her children." A fellow-countryman, from R o s c o m m o n , m a d e him several visits, showing various small kindnesses. The Rev. Messrs. Bleasedale, Geoghegan, and M a d d e n arrived early, and Mass was offered in a cell known as the Gaol Chapel, after yvhich the procession m o v e d away, a hangman at each side, like two masters of ceremonies, eagerly scanning everything that happened, as if desirous that no hitch should occur. Kennedy approached the ladder with a firm but hurried step. This he climbed with alacrity, and stood erect and unshrinking under the rope, amidst ascending prayers. O n this occasion there were, for thefirsttime, two executioners in attendance. S o m e twelve months before the regular hangman (Jack Harris) committed a robbery in Geelong, lost his appointment, and was succeeded by James Cahill. This was»hisfirstjob; but, as Harris was serving a sentence of imprisonment in the gaol, it was deemed desirable to have him present, so that the tyro might have the benefit of his experience. Harris was, therefore, what might be considered the consulting, and Cahill the acting, engineer. Harris was loud and fussy in trying to " boss " Cahill, who performed his dreadful office with coolness and propriety. After the final death struggle, Harris turned round, rubbed his hands, and gleefully exclaimed to the few spectators in the yard : " I knew he wouldn't take more than three minutes; I said so. Hadn't the chap a nice, quiet tumble d o w n ?" Mr. William Corp, one of the two attendant journalists, was about to treat the bravoing hangman to a kicking, but yvas promptly prevented by the Sheriff sternly ordering Harris to quit the place, and a couple of warders, dragging him off, locked him up. A crowd of some 700 or 800 persons assembled to yvitness the execution. Kennedy yvas a native of the County Galway, Ireland, and was 30 years of age. H e was a strong, firmly built man, close upon six feet high, with a pleasing turn of countenance, though indicative of vicious propensities. His four children were provided for by the yvife of a settler near the scene of the murder adopting the infant, and tyvo others being taken care of by tyvo aunts living in Melbourne, whilst the fourth, a three-year-old boy, died suddenly the day the father was sentenced to death. F r o m conversations sometimes held by Kennedy with officials and visitors at the gaol, it was ascertained that he yvas a Fatalist, a firm believer that good or evil actions were inevitable. H e once said to a turnkey : " It was drink that did it all; if drink had not done it something else yvould, as it was to be done." H e also said he bad been married just nine years on the day of the crime. AVhat a frightful wedding anniversary ! O n e of his family was a boy called " Micky," and a strangely ominous occurrence in reference to him was a great trouble to the unfortunate father. AVhen " Micky " began to get the use of his tongue thefirstphrase he was able to string together was the childish refrain of " M a m m y dead and daddy gone !" T h e poor mother paid no attention to it; but the m o o d y predestinarian steadfastly believed that it boded some terrible catastrophe, and this impression grew rooted in his mind. T h e child's innocent tongue went on with its tinkling about " M a m m y " and "Daddy," whilst Kennedy became so painfully absorbed in the everrecurring thought of some looming calamity that he prayed for the death of the little boy, which by an awful coincidence happened on the same day and hour that the father's d o o m was pronounced. BANQUETING THE GENTLEMEN VOLUNTEERS.
An entertainment of this kind, the only instance on record in the colony, is a festive novelty of so peculiar a nature, that I a m induced to append an abridged notice of it as a rider to the foregoing chapter, and also to annex to it a few facts relating to the after career of the men, the authors of such a dash of gallantry as has found no parallel in the annals of Victoria. ​At the Royal Hotel, in Collins Street, on the evening of the 20th May, 1842, 120 gentlemen sat down to a repast which was said to have " reflected credit on the host." T h e Chair was taken by M r . William Verner, the Commissioner of Insolvency; Mr. F. A . Powlett, Commissioner of Crown Lands, officiating as Vice. Messrs. Henry Fowler, Robert Chamberlain, Peter Snodgrass, James Thompson, and Oliver Gourlay were the " guests of the evening," and were greeted with enthusiastic acclamation. Special invitations had been issued to the Revs. A. C. T h o m s o n (Episcopalian minister), M . Stevens ( R o m a n Catholic), and James Forbes (Presbyterian), but they declined the honour, because at the very time they yvere engaged daily in administering spiritual consolation to the unhappy m e n yvho were primarily the cause of the demonstration. T h e invariable introductory toasts were disposed of in the usual perfunctory manner, and after the health of Sir George Gipps, the Governor of N e w South AVales was "bumpered," a letter was read from the Superintendent (Mr. Latrobe), testifying " His Excellency's (Sir G. Gipps') satisfaction at hearing of the recent capture of the bushrangers on the Plenty, and at the spirited manner in yvhich it was effected." It further conveyed " to all the gentlemen w h o took part in the apprehension of the m e n his Excellency's thanks and acknoyvledgments of the service which they have rendered to the colony," adding " that he is quite satisfied a few instances of alacrity and gallantry such as they have displayed will do more to put d o w n bushranging than any measures which the Government, without the assistance of the settlers, could effect." T h e Chairman then rose, and said :—" Gentlemen, I have now the pleasing task of proposing ' T h e Health of our Gallant Guests'—of those intrepid heroes w h o have so nobly distinguished themselves by the capture of a band of desperadoes whose career of rapine and violence they have arrested at the imminent risk of their lives, the preservation of which must strike everyone, under the circumstances in which they were placed, as attributable solely to the special intervention of a protecting Providence. I a m sure there is no one here present yvho does not feel extremely indebted to our gallant friends for the services rendered not only to themselves, but to the district in general; and more especially those gentlemen who, like myself, are both husbands and fathers, must feel doubly on this occasion for having preserved their yvives and families from danger and injury. I, therefore, beg to add to our o w n their acknowlegments for the gallant conduct of our distinguished guests." T h e Chairman concluded amidst loud applause, and the toast yvas received yvith all the honours. Mr. Peter Snodgrass, yvho was gifted with great fluency, if not eloquence, was put up to reply "for self and fellows," and he did so in the following terms :— " I shall be believed, gentlemen, yvhen, in undertaking to return thanks for myself and brother volunteers, I assure you of the difficulty I find in expressing m y feelings yvith adequate effect and in appropriate terms. T h e kindness that, hoyvever, you have shoyvn in acknowledging our efforts for the peace and character of society, gives m e confidence in this unusual attempt, and yvith such sympathy yve are ready to brave a thousand times the dangers yve have encountered in the protection of our fellow colonists, their lives, and their properties. T h e generous applause w e have received will prove to the surrounding colonies and to far distant Britain, that the inhabitants of this country are as prepared to honour public services as, I trust, we have been in fulfilling our voluntary duties. But delightful as it is to meet with cordial thanks and a brilliant entertainment in return for the risk yve have run, our pleasure rises with the belief that such a demonstration is more an approval of the moral service yve have rendered by the suppression of vice, than the mere physical gallantry that has been so freely attributed to us. Your high-minded conduct, enhanced as it has been by public opinion, and honoured by the sanction of Government, must be an incentive to others to equal, if not to eclipse, our cheerful exertions in the c o m m o n cause. Under the encouragement of both, then, our actions are amply reyvarded, and the natural feelings of m e n gratified to the full extent of our pride." " T h e Bench and the Bar" was introduced by M r . J. L. Foster, and responded to by the Honorable J. Erskine Murray, in a speech from which I cull this extract, for the cogitation and digestion of the legal practitioners of to-day :— " M r . Poster has truly stated that to arrive at eminence in the legal profession, talent and integrity in its members are required perhaps more than in other professions. Such is doubtless the case, but there are other requisites than these most necessary for the Bar to possess, and without yvhich its character and its independence yvould be nothing. O u r guests of the evening have, by their late gallant conduct, evinced a ​a cotirage honourable to themselves as it is a bright example to others ; and we, members of the Bar, may yvell take a lesson on the occasion. Yes, courage is as necessary at the Bar as in the field. I mean that moral courage which is the safeguard of a Barrister's independence; and there are times and circumstances when the exercise of such courage can alone preserve to the Bar that character which it ought ahvays to proudly maintain." T h e demonstration did not pass off yvithout its laughable incident. In "the brave days of old " the three Melbourne newspapers, Gazette, Patriot, and Herald, were in a state of incessant war with each other. O n some very rare occasions the hatchet used to be buried, but it was no sooner covered than it was dug up again, and wielded asfiercelyas ever. T h e Editors might be compared to three shoe-blacks, who, yvhen unpolished boots are at a discount, keep their hands and brushes in practice by smirching each other's face. T h e consequence yvas that the toast of " T h e Press" was a difficulty in the Steyvards' arrangements for all the old public dinners. Fix N o . i was the position on the programme which the Press ought to occupy. If too far up on the list, someone that had a " d o w n " on the papers would object, and he always had a couple of " bottle-holders " to back him. Then, if placed too low, the Editors would kick against it, interview the Stewards, and threaten all kinds of pains and penalties. Next, when this knotty point was arranged, there came the knottier one to be adjusted as to the particular Editor of the triplet to return thanks. Arden, of the Gazette, was the senior, as representing the first duly registered and printed newspaper; but Kerr, of the Patriot, claimed precedence, as his journal was the lineal descendant of Fayvkner's manuscript Advertiser; whilst Cavenagh, of the Herald, though the junior, possessed more influence with the magnates who "ran " those festive gatherings. O n this occasion the Stewards did not know well what to do, and they decided upon doing nothing about the toast of the Press—that is, they left it out altogether. AVhen the newspaper champions heard this, the Editors declared they would not attend the dinner. T h e Stewards, at the eleventh hour, became alarmed lest there might be no report of the proceedings, andfinallyadded the toast, but too late to placate the offended dignity of the journalists, w h o were conspicuous by their absence ; though out of consideration for the five chief objects ofthe festival, tolerably lengthy reports were published. T h e " Press," notwithstanding, triumphed, for it was proposed in a very creditable manner by Mr. Archibald Cunninghame, a long-defunct, queerlooking stick of an Equity Barrister, and pompously acknowledged by the late well-known Mr. C. H . Ebden. A n d n o w afeyvremarks as to what futurity had in store for the gay and gallant "Five," the heroes of the time, whose bravery was the theme on every tongue, and whose names were "household words " for many a day :— Peter Snodgrass was the son of a military officer of high distinction, w h o at one time officiated as Administrator of the Government of N e w South Wales. So far back as 1838, Peter was gazetted as Commissioner of Crown Lands in the Colony; but, for some reason or other, never entered upon the duties. H e was one of our earliest squatters, and a shining light of the Melbourne Club, when it was in its syvaddling clothes. That he yvas rather partial to povvder is evidenced by the fact that he yvas a prominent character in some of the early duels that came off in the Province. AVhen the colony obtained the boon of Responsible Government, Peter, w h o had long before finished the sowing of his " wild oats," was elected to the Legislative Assembly, andfilledthe office of Chairman of Committees for several years. Though his Parliamentary career was unmarked by any unusual display of eloquence, it yvas not through any deficiency in the gift of tongue,for,in putting a question from the chair, about saying " A y e " or " N o , " or " the Ayes have it," or " the Noes have it," he was master of a rapidity of utterance which no other Parliamentarian in the world could beat. At his death he was very generally regretted. James T h o m p s o n (better known as " J e m m y "), was a squatter, and the occupier of a station at Cape Schanck, and he and Chamberlain (also a squatter) left the colony, and died in England only a few years ago. Oliver Gourlay was of Scottish descent, and a Melbourne merchant for a time. A year or so after the bushranging encounter, he sailed on a m a d c a p expedition to some of the Pacific Islands, where it is believed he either supplied the materials for a cannibal feast, or died some other violent death. That he came to an untimely end admits of no reasonable doubt. ​T h e last though not the least, but the most injured—Henry (" Harry") Fowler. H e is the only one ofthe "Fighting Five" now amongst us (1888), and is no stranger about town, for he may be met any day sauntering leisurely up and d o w n with hands philosophically folded behind his back, taking the world easily and very partial to peering through shop windows, or having a turn at a game of billiards. M r . Fowler therefore remains the sole survivor—calm looking, white-haired, and time-bleached—the solitary remanet of five as gallant, light-hearted, and free-handed young m e n as ever enrolled themselves amongst the pioneers of a new country.
A " HANGING " POSTSCRIPT.
If the ancient records of the yvorld are to be credited, the status of that repulsive, but eminently indispensable, public functionary, the State P^xecutioner, was variously determined at different times and places. In Imperial R o m e the "carnifex" was an object of such aversion that he was not permitted to dwell within the City AValls. During the Middle Ages, the office of " headsman " yvas held in such esteem as to be hereditary in certain European countries; whilst during the brief Danish Succession in England, the executioner was a functionary of such dignity that, according to Spelman's Glossary, he yvas treated as of equal rank with the Archbishop of York and the Lord Steward. There was once upon a time in London a c o m m o n hangman, known as Gregory Brandon, yvho by a trick so imposed upon a Garter King at A r m s as to be enrolled as an "Esquire," and London hangmen were for some time designated " Gregories " or " Squires " after him. Another similar official was a Mr. Dunn, and, as a posthumous compliment, several successive "finishersof the law " Were known as " Dunns." T h e London hangman, w h o has most effectually descended nominally to posterity, was a Mr. John Ketch, supposed to have flourished A n n o 1682. H e was a married gentleman, and his dexterity in ridding the yvorld of condemned criminals inspired his wife with such admiration for his handicraft, as to m a k e her boastful of his skill. She was incessantly declaring to her neighbourly gossips " that anyone might do a plain piece of work, such as a bare hanging; but to m a k e a malefactor ' die sweetly,' yvas a gift that belonged only to her husband." Still the identity of this individual is by no means settled beyond dispute, notyvithstanding an assertion of the great historian, Macaulay, that " Jack Ketch " was the popular n a m e for a public hangman, derived from a person so called yvho officiated as such in the reign of Charles II. " Jack Ketch " was quite an apocryphal hero if there be truth in Lloyd's M S . collection of British pedigrees in the British M u s e u m , where the following version of the origin of the unenviable nomenclature is to be found :—" T h e manor of Tyburn, where felons were for a considerable period executed, was held by one Richard 'Jaquett,' whose cognomen was afterwards corrupted or anglicised into 'Jack Ketch,' a bisection or transformation which seems to have chimed in so 'ketchingly' yvith the vulgar taste, that yvhen once caught it was detained, and so remains incorporated with English slang to the present time, not only in Britain, but in every portion of the globe yvhere the Anglo-Saxon tongue is spoken." There yvas also in London during the 17th century a hangman named Derrick, whose cognomen is also imperishably inwoven with our language. This yvorthy yvas such a genius in his particular line of swinging, that he devised a novel m o d e of roping the wretches turned over to his care ; but though his invention did not take in the manner intended, it suggested the construction of a special sort of crane by lashing spars in the manner in which Derrick rigged his gibbets, a contrivance found so convenient and effectual in unloading and hoisting purposes on board ship, that it grew into a regular maritime appliance, and a modification of it is still known as the Derrick. In connection with the old English executioners, a curious fallacy exists as to their scale of remuneration. Hangmen's wages have been assessed at thirteenpence halfpenny per case, with the culprit's clothes thrown in as a perquisite; but this is a popular error, which originated in the fact that, stealing to the value of the amount stated yvas at one time regarded as a capital crime. In reality the hanging tariff yvas considerably higher, as is shown by the following transcript of an account furnished (ioth November, 1813) to Sir John Silvester, a London Recorder : — T o executioner's fees, 7s. 6d.; to stripping the body, 4s. 6d.; to use of shell, 2s. 6d.; total, 14s. 6d. ​Originally in Port Phillip there was no stated allowance provided for an execution, and the first hangman's office was required in the case of the. two Vandiemonian aborigines executed in January, 1842. AA'hen it was announced that a hangman yvas wanted, there were a dozen applicants for the post, but as the Government restricted the choice to convicts under sentence, one Samuel Davies was selected. H e was a double-distilled scoundrel, yvho, after doing a sentence at the Ocean Hill—known as Port Arthur— passed over to the new settlement, where he soon got into trouble, and was serving as a " lifer " when the stroke of luck came in his way yvhich secured his enlargement. His remuneration for hisfirstjob must have astonished him, for he was not only paid £ 1 0 in hard cash, but be also obtained yvhat was knoyvn as a "Ticket-of-leave," i.e., a discharge from prison and his freedom so long as he "mustered and reported" himself to the police. This fellow was about the best conducted of our hangmen, and he continued to officiate until certain doubts arising out of the validity of the removal from office of thefirstResident Judge (Willis), led to the practical abolition of capital punishment for several years, when, Davies' occupation being gone, he slipped quietly out of the public mind, and neither nominally nor otherwise was anything knoyvn or heard of him afterwards. T h e first permanent executioner in the colony was one Jack Harris, w h o was transported from England to N e w South AVales in 1818, and remained a prisoner of the Crown for twenty-nine years in the N e w South AVales penal establishments. Here he yvas employed for some time as assistant hangman, but never accomplished a "turning off" himself until a regular appointment yvas made. His emoluments were 2s. 6d. per diem, with rations and a cell in the Melbourne prison. Jack's 'prentice hand was in ridding the yvorld of a convicted murderer, and a bungling muddle he m a d e of the job. It took him just eight minutes to effect the strangulation of the hapless being on yvhom he had to operate, and it was a horrible sight to behold. H e used too thick a rope, and yvas ignorant of the " professional knot," which, after the drop fell, shifted under the culprit's chin ; and had there not been a long fall the eight minutes would probably have been extended to eight-and-tyventy. Harris having obtained his freedom, became a thorough drunken scamp and public nuisance. T h e police often brought him before the Police Bench, whence he yvas usually sent back to gaol. O n e day he m a d e his appearance before Mr. Henry Moor, one of the ancient Mayors. H e yvas accused of having been drunk and disorderly, and begged hard for another chance, protesting most solemnly that if let off only this time he would most certainly turn over a new leaf. M o o r good-naturedly took him at his word, which so astonished Jack that he burst forth into a profusion of thanks :—" A n d so, please your Vursbip " (concluded he), " I h a m so mightily hobleeged to you that, s'elp me, hif hit hever do 'appen that you come hin m y line you m a y believe m e that hi'll do you ha good turn." T h e roars of laughter that greeted this wind-up in a croyvded Court seemed to tickle and annoy the Magistrate, who, though always good-humoured, did not m u c h relish a laugh against himself, and he quickly retorted on the unconsciously offending " Mr. Ketch :"—" Be off, you scoundrel, or I will repent m y leniency and give you six months. Y o u rascal, I will take precious good care you shall never have a chance of doing m e either a good or a bad 'turn.' I will keep out of your clutches, never fear." Jack "quickly took the hint, twitched the hair over his forehead with thumb and forefinger, and with a lowly jerk of the head and a villainous half-smothered snigger, hastily went through a right-about-face and left the Court. This fellow kept in and out of gaol for a couple of years, during yvhich he yvas almost a sinecurist, for there was only one execution in 1848, none in '49 or '50, and but one in 1851. T h e gaol floggings did not average more than two per annum, and Harris began so to rust that he one day m a d e a dash at Geelong, stormed the place, committed some larcenies, and only came to a halt in the Geelong gaol. At an execution towards the close of 1851 (Harris having been recently convicted of felony) it yvas thought desirable to have a brand-new hangman, and the office was conferred upon James Cahill, w h o was an " Emancipist," or prisoner free by servitude. H e also hailed from Sydney. But he was a poor hand with the " cats," and so fumbled over hisfirsthanging that had not Harris been brought from Geelong as a helper, Cahill would hardly have got through yvith it. Cahill married a fine buxom immigrant girl of no mean personal attractions. O n e day soon after her arrival she was walking in the bush northward of the gaol. The hangman yvas seated on a stump, reading a well-thumbed novel. They met, they sayv, they conquered. T h e wedding was solemnized at St. Francis', in the presence of quite a concourse of ladies from 15 to 50, eager to see h o w a hangman could bear the tying of an ecclesiastical halter about his oyvn neck. T h e ​marriage was not, however, a happy one, for Jim soon pitched his billet to the winds and his wife to Jericho, disappeared from the colony, and was heard of no more. T h e young "grass w i d o w " did not break her heart over the bereavement, for, during the goldfields turmoil of 1852-3, she m a d e money, and years after was comfortably settled down, the reputed married hostess of a well-kept hotel in one of the principal streets in Geelong. Cahill's abdication brought about Harris's re-appointment, but he rendered universal dissatisfaction by his riotous and rowdy conduct, for which the ordinary imprisonment punishment yvas altogether inadequate. T h e fellow at length determined upon making a bold coup, in which he succeeded. In concert with tyvo or three expert gaol pals, he engaged in an extensive burglary in the city, and the robbers wisely shook Melbourne dust off their feet, and got clean off with the most valuable part of their booty, plate and jewellery. Harris was subsequently convicted of a street robbery in Sydney, and died in bondage there. Next on the rollfiguresMichael Gately, known to the convict world by the uncouth sobriquet of " Balla-ram," a big bearish, monstrous-looking item of mortality, paid by piece-work for what he did, the greatest scoundrel of the batch, and a veritable " carnifex " in vocation and nature. This ruffian's m a d pranks, yvhenever out of gaol, and rushing about like a drunken wild beast, are not so remote as to be unfamiliar to m a n y readers of the present day. H e also married a wife, but it must have been a good riddance for both when Gately divorced himself, yvithout legal intervention, from yvhat could in no sense be termed a "better half," and followed in the wake of his predecessor for Sydney on the n t h June, 1880. H e penetrated to a remote portion of Queensland, and had the astounding audacity to write to a M e m b e r of Parliament, beseeching his political influence to reinstate him in his former position, in reyvard for which he vows grateful remembrance, and a reciprocation of "kind offices," should any future opportunity present itself. T h e destruction of the Kelly gang of desperadoes, and the probable execution of their leader, led to the appointment of M r . Elijah Upjohn, then a convict under sentence. This individual descended from a family of good account in Devonshire, and lived for years in fair repute at Ballarat. Dropping into habits of dissipation he gradually fell lower, and paid the penalty which, as a rule, dogs the steps of the criminal, and from yvhich few escape. Hisfirstand only hanging was that of N e d Kelly on the n t h November, 1880, and from the modern improvements introduced in the m o d e of effecting executions, none of the hitches in carrying out the old capital sentences were possible. For so doing he received £ 5 . It yvas subsequently thought desirable to revert to the mcdiceval system of remuneration, and at the present time the arrangement is 5s. per day, with quarters at Pentridge, for which all executions and floggings are to be performed. Upjohn after receiving the appointment went on well enough for a time, until he was m u c h upset by a serious disappointment. A n execution was expected to c o m e off at Adelaide, and as some difficulties were anticipated in procuring the services of a competent hangman, it was arranged that Upjohn should be retained specially for the occasion. H e yvas to be wheeled ayvay by train and coach to the Glenelg, and on crossing the South Australian border was to be taken up by a "guard of honour," and so escorted to his destination. For such exceptional work, executed so far from home, Upjohn's brief was to be heavily marked; and he calculated gleefully upon the wonderful results he should realise out of such an unexpected windfall. But he "counted his chickens before they were hatched," for whilst in daily expectation of a telegram to start, he yvas astounded by the intelligence that, for some reason or other, the meditated hanging yvas deferred sine die. This was a sudden disruption of his golden vision. His short-lived steadiness deserted him, and, indulging in sundry indiscretions, he one day found himself minus his appointment, and plus a sojourn in the Melbourne Gaol. Since the settlement of Port Phillip to the present time (1835 to 1882) one hundred and thirty-one persons have suffered death in the colony for violation of the law, viz, 130 m e n and one y v o m a n — Mrs. Elizabeth Scott, who, with two male accomplices, was, on the n t h November, 1863, executed at Beechworth for the murder of her husband. Four m e n have been executed in Melbourne for murder since the last above-named date and the year 1888. T h e last execution yvas that of " Freeland Morrell," on the 7th January, 1886.