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BY
THE MORINISH MURDER
MURDER OF
HALLIGAN, THE
GOLD-BUYER, by
PALMER,
WILLIAMS,
ARCHIBALD, AND
TAYLOR
I
FOR dramatic incident no story of
Australian crime excels that of the Morinish murder. A
conspiracy of men, maddened by the passion for gain, plotted
to intercept and rob a traveller carrying gold. The bolder
spirits, bushranger- The Australian gold-rushes drew adventurous
spirits from all the nations of the earth, and with them,
naturally, men of criminal impulses who meant to make their
fortune by fair means or foul. Fortune-making on a goldfield
is an exceptionally speculative enterprise, and the rewards
are not often to the assiduous. To men of a certain type it
must have been tantalizing to see fortune, passing them by,
come so easily to others; and when gold in bulk was
constantly being transported, under police escort, or even
in charge of single travellers, over lonely bush roads and
rugged mountain tracks, it must have seemed an easy path to
fortune for a cunning criminal, masked and armed, to await
his prey, seize the gold, and escape detection. The primeval
bush afforded a screen of secrecy, and the murderer of
solitary men might hope to remain behind it undetected.
II
ON the morning of Sunday, April 25,
1869, Mr. Patrick Halligan, a gold-buyer and landlord of the
Golden Age Hotel, Rockhampton, left on horseback for the
Morinish goldfields, thirty miles away, on his usual trip.
He took with him large sums in bank-notes to pay for the
virgin gold which he would bring back in his saddle-bags to
the bank which employed him. He was well armed, and
splendidly mounted. He reached Morinish, obtained about
seventy ounces of retorted gold, and started back the same
day for home. He was last seen alive at Deep Creek, fifteen
miles from Rockhampton. As he did not return home that night
or on Monday, the well-known Gold Commissioner John Jardine,
with his son and a police orderly, set out on Tuesday in
search of him. They traced him to Morinish, and back as far
as Deep Creek; but there all trace of him was lost.
Mr. Halligan was highly respected. He was in
the prime of life, thirty-one years of age, tall, with a
brown beard and moustache, a man of courage, a fearless
rider. He was married and had a family of four children. His
disappearance caused a painful sensation in Rockhampton. A
search party was quickly organized by the townspeople, and
assembled at Lion Creek Hotel, kept by a Scotchman named
Alexander Archibald. It was learned that Mr. Halligan had
called at this hotel on his way out, had a drink, and in
answer to an inquiry by Archibald had said that he was
coming back the same evening -- a reply that was heard by
John Williams, known as "Old Jack", a New Zealander, who
was on the verandah of the hotel.
The search party spread out and began to
examine the country between Lion Creek and Deep Creek. After
a careful search they found Halligan's hat and whip, and a
piece of black alpaca from his coat. Tracks of two unshod
horses were picked up, as well as the tracks of Halligan's
horse, galloping. Black trackers were then brought, and set
to work round the spot where these relics had been found.
A few yards from the spot on which the hat
was found the trackers discovered a pool of blood; near-by,
a bullet-mark in the trunk of a tree; and near this two
silver coins, a fourpenny and a threepenny piece.
The excitement in Rockhampton was now
intense. A reward of £300 was offered for the
discovery of the murderer, and later the citizens
subscribed £400 to add to the reward. On the 7th of
May, thirteen days after Halligan had left for Morinish, a
party led by Mr. Frank Humphreys (one of several which had
been searching the vicinity of the Fitzroy River) decided to
search again an island in the river opposite the spot where
the murder had been committed. While rowing down the passage
between this Eight Mile Island and the river bank, one of
the men called out "There is something in the rushes at the
edge of the water", and a body was found floating, on the
surface, on its back. It was naturally much decomposed, for
it had been eleven days in the water. On trying to tow it up
the river, it was found to be attached to a sujee bag full
of bricks, which anchored it in its place among the rushes.
The body was detached from its anchor, towed to Rockhampton,
and there identified as that of Mr. Halligan. Further search
on the river bank showed tracks of the horse which had been
used to bring the body from the spot where the murder took
place; and on the bank was found a knot of rope, similar to
that tied round Halligan's body.
III
FROM the first, suspicion rested
upon a young man named George Palmer. A portrait of Palmer,
given in Mr. W.R.0. Hill's "Reminiscences", shows him as a
rather good-looking young man with a pleasant clean-shaven
face, an ample mop of dark hair, and a rather protruding
jaw. He was a native of New South Wales, well-connected in
Sydney and married to a wife of seventeen. He came to the
Rockhampton district to take charge of an out-station for a
squatter. He is described by Mr. Bird as "a strong, smart,
and impulsive young fellow, who, soon after settling in the
district, became associated with a very bad lot."
He began his criminal career by stealing a
racehorse, whose speed was afterwards useful in many narrow
escapes from capture by the police. When things grew too
warm for him near Rockhampton, he went to Gympie, and there
was suspected of being associated with a gang which, stuck
up the coach running between Gympie and Brisbane. Bond, one
of the gang, was shot by a plucky bank-clerk named Selwyn
Smith; it is supposed that Palmer succeeded in getting the
wounded man away. After this he went back to Rockhampton
and, says Mr. Bird, "took up his quarters in the
neighbourhood of the Agricultural Reserve, and established a
reign of terror among the timorous near where he was camped,
threatening all manner of vengeance if anyone divulged his
whereabouts . . . . He had previously made himself so
obnoxious by his rowdy conduct in town, by horse-stealing,
and by escaping from and defying the police, that he was
believed to be capable of anything."
On May 10 Sub-Inspector Elliott received a
letter from a miner named Johnson, asking him to come out to
Ridgelands -- a small goldfield -- and he would give him
information about the murderers; it would be as much as his
life was worth, said Johnson, to come in to Rockhampton.
This was an instance of the terrorism inspired by the
threats which Palmer uttered against those who not only
suspected but actually knew that he was the murderer of
Halligan. The information obtained from Johnson sufficed
to make out a prima facie case for the arrest of
Alexander Archibald, the host of the Lion Creek Hotel, at
whose house Halligan had stopped on his way to Morinish.
Archibald at once volunteered to turn Queen's
evidence. But, though he was allowed to tell the story of
the murder, and give the names and descriptions of those
concerned in it, he was at the trial denied the immunity of
a Crown witness -- a proceeding which caused a great
division of opinion afterwards. He was undoubtedly the first
of the conspirators to offer a disclosure of the facts, and
was of the greatest service to the police. From his
statement the story of the robbery and murder was made
clear.
IV
GEORGE PALMER,
(26), John Williams, known famillarly as "Old Jack" (45 to
50), Alexander Archibald (age not stated) and Charles Taylor
(26), were accomplices in the murder of Halligan. Palmer has
already been described. Williams was a doer of odd jobs, who
in the intervals loafed about saleyards and public-house
verandahs -- a well-known type in the back-blocks of
Australia. His appearance is described by contemporary
reports as "prepossessing -- when his hat was off. He wore
long whiskers and beard, which concealed his face . . . . .
His forehead was broad though receding." His demeanour was
described as "cool and thoughtful". Reviewing the
circumstances to-day, Old Jack stands out as the most
sinister figure among the protagonists in this crime. He had
apparently lived a respectable and blameless life as a miner
in New Zealand before coming to Australia; but there were
rumours of a mysterious past. At the trial and on the
gallows, he delivered speeches of extraordinary eloquence
and power, and probably no more remarkable figure has
appeared in the records of Australian crime than that of Old
Jack.
Alexander Archibald, a Scotsman by birth, was
a horsey man, known far and wide in the Rockhampton district
as a good rider and horse-dealer and breaker -- also, so far
as can be gathered from contemporary records, a "reckless
and harum-scarum" man, greatly disliked for certain
qualities. He was married, and had children. His wife
associated herself with his harum-scarurn horseback
"stunts", and they were often seen riding about the country
together at breakneck speed. Before coming to Rockhampton,
Archibald had lived in New Zealand and Victoria.
"He owned a famous pony named Quart Pot,"
says Mr. Bird, "which won a lot of races, and of which he
was very proud . . . . . He delighted in 'taking a point' on
a man, and on that account got himself disliked by some
people. He was a man easily led away by a stronger will."
Mr. Bird goes on to say that Archibald was mixed up in shady
transactions and with bad characters in the district, but
that "in many ways he was a kind-hearted man, and his faults
were more of the head than the heart." This kind-hearted
murderer was apparently the weakest of the gang, as is shown
by his conduct after the murder, and his haste to offer
himself as approver against his confederates. A couple of
months before the murder Archibald gave up his training
stables, and took the Lion Creek Hotel, and there he appears
to have had Old Jack as a frequenter of his verlandah --
and, unfortunately, as an evil counsellor.
Charles Taylor -- whose name now appears for
the first time in this narrative, and who was afterwards
accepted as approver in the case was another horsey man, a
superb horseman, trainer, and steeplechase and flat jockey,
who had worked in Archibald's training stables. He had a
criminal record before he came to Rockhampton, and while
there had been known as a swindler and sharp practitioner in
regard to racing. He probably assisted Palmer in
horse-stealing and is thought to have suggested the
"sticking up" of Halligan.
The plan of the robbery was decided upon long
before the actual date of its execution. It was not, we
believe, particularly aimed at Halligan, but embraced
designs against other gold-buyers such as Mr. W. Pattison
(afterwards the Hon. W. Pattison of Mount Morgan fame), Mr.
T.S. Hall, referred to in the Griffin story, and O'Rourke.
It seems clear from the circumstances that robbery was the
objective of the gang: and that no thought of murder entered
into their scheme at first.
The actual agents selected for the enterprise
were Palmer and Old Jack. Twice they waited on the road for
Halligan, but missed him, as there were two roads to the
Morinish field, either of which suited him. Halligan was
careless and boastful -- witness a story told by the then
editor of the Daily Northern Argus, Mr.
Robison. He went to Halligan's Hotel on the evening before
the murder, and found Halligan in the parlour -- which was
full of men drinking and smoking -- telling the company of
the quantities of gold he had brought in from the various
mines round the district. His folly in thus boasting was
remarked, and one of his audience advised him to "hold his
tongue" or he would be stuck up some day, and "very probably
get a bullet through your head." Halligan declared that he
"had a little gentleman in his pocket" that would stand by
him, and that no one would "ever get the gold from him so
long as he could pull a trigger." The former speaker replied
-- "That's all very well. But take a fool's advice and keep
your tongue quiet." Mr. Robison recognized the speaker as
Old Jack, who at that very moment had made all preparations
to meet and rob Halligan on the following day.
V
RIDING carelessly on his homeward
journey, Halligan emerged from the scrub into an open glade.
Evening was coming on, but it was not yet dark, and the moon
was in the sky. Palmer and Williams, quite undisguised, lay
in wait. As Halligan came into the open, Palmer rode at him,
caught him by the coat, and levelled a revolver, and
demanded the gold he was carrying. Halligan struck Palmer
again and again with his whip, all the while endeavouring to
urge his horse on, and crying "I know you, Palmer! I will
not give it to you. I won't! I won't!"
During this struggle Old Jack rode cautiously
behind: but, seeing Halligan drop his whip and draw his
revolver, shouted "Look out, Palmer, he is drawing his
revolver; he will shoot you."
Halligan fired; but Palmer knocked the
revolver away in time to divert the bullet, which went into
a tree. Palmer at once shot Halligan in the breast, the
bullet going right through his body. Halligan continued to
shout Palmer's name loudly until weakness caused him to fall
off his horse. Palmer, still holding Halligan, dismounted
too, and -- according to his story -- wished to ride for a
doctor; but Old Jack told him not to be a fool. After
Halligan was on the ground, he still continued to call
Palmer's name; whereupon the robbers gagged and bound him,
dragged him some distance off the road, and proceeded to rob
him, taking the gold he brought from Morinish, £14 in
notes, and a ring off his finger, Then with the utmost
sang-froid they left him in the bush-gagged, bound, and
bleeding to death.
They rode to Archibald's hotel at Lion Creek,
and told Taylor. Archibald was away when they came back, but
returned at ten p.m., and the murderers took him out into a
paddock and told him what had happened. He saw the terrible
trap he had fallen into, and urged them to go back and put
Halligan on the road, so that he might have a chance of
being succoured by some good Samaritan. Palmer and Old Jack
appeared satisfied to let their victim bleed to death, and
proposed to divide the money. Archibald refused to touch it:
but Palmer pushed it at him, saying "Take hold of the
'dough', boy; it won't bite you." Palmer was angered at
Archibald's pusillanimity, but was moved by what he said;
and at midnight they rode back to the place where they had
left Halligan, and found him dead.
They bound up the body with a rope which had
been purchased in town by Old Jack, tied it on Halligan's
horse, and took it towards the river bank. On the way they
came to a deserted building near the river, known as
Byerley's, filled a sujee bag with bricks from the chimney,
and tied this "sinker" to the body. They approached the
river at Eight Mile Island, led the horse down through the
reeds on the bank, close to the channel between the bank and
the island, and threw in Halligan's body and his saddle.
When it was seen that the water was shallow there, Old Jack
stripped and went in, dragging the body and "sinker" into
deeper water. Then they went back to an old building called
"Baker's Hut", on the Agricultural Reserve, where Palmer
and Old Jack had been camping for some time. On the
following day they led Halligan's horse into the bush, and
in a secluded spot, amidst the long grass, shot him, cut the
brands out, and buried them. All traces seemed thus to have
been removed.
VI
THE next step was a division of the
spoil. Palmer and Old Jack were accustomed to haunt the
scrubs, at that time filled with long grass which afforded
as secure a hiding-place as a field of sugarcane or maize.
They usually rode about at night, Mr. Bird tells us, and Old
Jack would go into town for provisions, Palmer holding the
horses in the scrub while awaiting his jackal's return.
These night-birds of ill-omen made an
appointment with Taylor to meet them in the scrub, and he
was instructed to bring a spring-balance, so that the gold
could be divided -- for the gold, being retorted, was in a
solid mass, and had to be cut up. Taylor told Archibald he
was afraid to meet them by himself, and prevailed upon him
to accompany him. They rode out at midday on May 5, ten days
after the murder, and met Palmer and Old Jack in the scrub.
Taylor brought a balance and a new tomahawk. Old Jack, who
seems to have assumed leadership, suggested that the
retorted gold be divided into three equal parts, Palmer and
himself to have one part each, and the third to be cut up
between Archibald and Taylor. This was agreed to, Old Jack
remarking as the cutting up began "It is very little: if I
had known he had no more, I wouldn't have put him away."
The shares were measured in the solid gold
block by Palmer, who cut off twenty-six ounces for himself
(worth less than £100), Old Jack getting twenty-four,
and the other two sharing the remainder. £14 in
bank-notes had been found in Halligan's pocket, of which the
robbers had spent £2 on rations. Palmer and Old Jack
divided the £12, and then tossed for Halligan's ring,
which Old Jack won.
It is to be noted here that Archibald firmly
refused to take any share of the spoil, so Taylor took his
own and Archibald's. He had not so tender a conscience as
the hotel-keeper. But Archibald's fellow-criminals, in their
subsequent statements, insisted that he took a leading part
in the plot, and had made it a point that Halligan should be
shot; he also, they said, plotted against Hall, Pattison,
and O'Rourke. This view of Archibald's character is not
credited by Mr. Bird, who says that it was prompted by rage
at their discovering that Archibald had given information to
the police. Palmer was particularly vindictive, and declared
that Archibald had tried to persuade him to shoot Taylor,
for more abundant caution, lest he should "split."
VII
PALMER fled to Gympie, where he hid
in the river scrubs. He rode a chestnut horse and led a
packhorse, stolen by him from Mr. Toussaint. This horse
broke away from him on the journey, and when recovered by
the police was found to be carrying a saddle belonging to
Archibald, which furnished an important clue. Palmer was in
communication with his young wife who at this time was
living at Gympie and in this connection a story printed by
Mr. W.R.0. Hill may be retold here.
At that time "Jack" Hamilton, afterwards a
member of the legislature of Queensland, and a famous
revolver-shot, was in Gympie, and one evening went with a
Mr. Milligan to a diggers' dance. Mr. Milligan tells the
story: "We entered the passage at Billy Flynn's Hotel on our
way to the dance-room. As we pushed along, a man in front,
called 'Bluey', accused a man beside him of burning his
finger with a cigar. The man replied that if he had he was
very sorry. That failed to satisfy Bluey, who insisted it
was done purposely. Hamilton told him he should accept the
apology, as it was evidently unintentional. Bluey, however,
was determined on blood, and insisted on fighting. The man
replied that he was a stranger, and could not depend on fair
play. Hamilton then said 'I'll second you, and then you'll
get fair play. A ring was made in the middle of the
dance-room, the women standing on the chairs and forms, the
inner circle of men squatting on the floor. At the call of
time, Bluey sprang from the knee of his second, 'Long Bill',
and the stranger from Jack Hamilton's. The stranger dropped
Bluey, and directly he fell Long Bill rushed at him.
Hamilton cried 'Fair play!' and sprang in front of the
stranger. Long Bill then let go his left at Hamilton, who
allowed it to shave past his cheek and landed his left with
such force that the first part of Long Bill's anatomy to
touch the floor was the back of his head. Long Bill was then
pulled to a corner, and before he regained his senses the
dancing was in full swing again."
"Years after," continues Milligan, "Hamilton
told me the sequel. On the way home the stranger overtook
him, and said -- 'You saved me from being mobbed this
evening; and I think I should tell you who I am, as I am
sure you will not divulge the name. I am Detective Hanley.
That young woman I danced with so frequently is Mrs. Palmer.
Her husband is wanted for murdering Halligan. Those fellows
are jealous of her preference of me, and the row was planned
to-night as an excuse to mob me. I am merely making love to
her professionally, to get news of her husband. She says he
visited her last night, and threatens to shoot me, as he is
jealous of me too.
VIII
AS soon as Archibald was arrested,
he told where Old Jack could be captured. Deprived of the,
companionship of Palmer, he had returned to his haunts on
hotel verandahs. A police officer went to the hotel
specified, and saw a man sitting on the verandah in the
dark. Pretending to light his pipe, he struck a match,
identified Old Jack, and arrested him on suspicion of
murder. Old Jack said "All right. I'll go with you quietly."
Shortly afterwards Taylor was arrested; and then a shepherd
named McNevin, who was charged as an accessory.
Palmer meanwhile had left his track to Gympie
quite plain. On the way there he had called at a wayside inn
at Burrurn and paid some attention to the barmaid, Miss
Staley. Among other gallantries, he asked her if she would
like gold for a ring. When she acquiesced, he produced some
gold and a tomahawk, and cut off a piece weighing about an
ounce, which he gave her. When news of the murder was
published, Miss Staley informed the police and showed the
gold-which was found to be retorted gold, such as Halligan
had in his possession when he left Morinish. A later search
turned up Palmer's "plant"; it was the retorted gold, and on
the lump was found a tomahawk mark, where a piece had been
cut off. The piece given by Palmer to Miss Staley fitted the
lump.
IX
ALL the conspirators save the most
desperate of the group were now under lock and key. Palmer
was not so easily trapped, though the police and black
trackers were out after him. They came upon a clue at
Calliope, where he told a story of sticking up by
bushrangers and said he had shot a man, and showed the
revolver stained with blood as proof. There, too, he
displayed the lump of retorted gold, and gave a piece to
a young lady in the audience. He rode rapidly from one place
to another, his superb bushmanship standing him in good
stead. He had no scruples in taking the best horses he could
find without consulting their owners, and so traversed
hundreds of miles with the police and trackers in hot
pursuit. But by this time he was starving and in rags. His
health had suffered, and he had no chance of disposing of
the gold which he carried with him. The game was up; his
cunning, criminal mind realized that he could not remain
uncaptured much longer, and devised an extraordinary scheme
to make some profit out of his surrender.
On the 29th of May, after evading arrest for
a month, Palmer communicated with a Gymple solicitor, Mr.
J.W. Stable, and arranged that that gentleman should secure
the reward for giving him up to the police, and should apply
the money in certain channels to be indicated. On this Mr.
Stable telegraphed to Rockhampton on Palmer's suggestion, to
know if the reward was for the apprehension of Palmer or for
his conviction. Finding it would be paid on apprehension,
Stable informed the police that he could put them in a
position to arrest Palmer, and an appointment was made.
Inspector Lloyd and a constable went to the place indicated
-- a scrub on the Mary River, two miles from Gympie and
waited. Soon Palmer, sick and miserable, accompanied by
Stable, came to the spot. When the police seized him, he
turned melodramatically to Mr. Stable and exclaimed "You
have betrayed me!"
Mr. Bird says that the scene was "engineered"
by Palmer as he did not want to be considered as
surrendering voluntarily. He was brought to Rockhampton and
locked up. All the prisoners except Old Jack and Palmer had
now confessed; on June 7 Palmer added his confession to the
list. Each of them had made out the best case he could for
himself, and shifted the blame as much as possible on to the
others. Thus Palmer asserted that Old Jack had actually shot
Halligan in spite of remonstrances, while he himself had
done all he could for the dying man. Old Jack, for his part,
kept his own counsel.
The prisoners were privately examined, and a
controversy arose in the press as to the justice of what was
described as "Star Chamber business," public indignation
being aroused at a procedure like that now known as "the
Third Degree". At length the prisoners were brought into
open court before the police magistrate, Mr. W.H. Wiseman.
Mr. Rees Jones, a well-known Rockhampton solicitor, appeared
for Palmer, but, for objecting to a question on the ground
of its inadvisability, was ejected from the court by the
magistrate. Palmer's statement was read in open court, and
Archibald gave evidence describing the whole plot. Palmer,
he declared, in describing the murder had said "I shot him;
I held him, and Old Jack tied him."
Palmer, Williams, and Taylor were committed
for trial, and were removed to Brisbane and lodged in gaol
there. Archibald and McNevin were tried separately and
committed for trial, but the Crown did not file a bill
against McNevin.
X
THE prisoners elected to be tried
separately. Mr. Justice Lutwyche presided at the September
sittings in Rockhampton. George Charles Frederick Palmer was
the first tried. The Crown was represented by the
Attorney- Deadly evidence was given by McNevin, who had
known Palmer for eighteen months. In the February before the
murder he was feeding sheep near Baker's deserted house,
when he saw a man sitting on the doorstep, with a revolver
in his hand and another on the floor. McNevin asked him if
he rented the place.
"Yes" replied the man.
"You're George Palmer aren't you?" said
McNevin.
"Yes. You would not have got up the steps had
I not known you -- I would have blown your brains out. I
don't want anyone to know I am about here, and by G---d, if
you tell I will take your life."
McNevin promised to say nothing. As he was
going away Old Jack and Taylor rode up, unsaddled their
horses, and went inside the house. Palmer then came after
McNevin and asked him for some sugar, as his mates had
brought none out. He gave their names, and said Old Jack
was the principal one. A few days later he met McNevin
again, bound him to secrecy under threat of death, and said
"I am put on a 'lay'. I want to wait to see Halligan to rob
him."
When they met again, weeks afterwards, Palmer
told McNevin he had been up country after horses. He said he
was sick of waiting, but Archibald wanted him to wait for
something to turn up, and meanwhile was supplying him with
food and money. On April 25 McNevin saw Palmer and Old Jack
arranging their swags on their saddles, and at 5 p.m. they
rode in the direction of the Six-mile scrub, where they
murdered Halligan.
On the Tuesday night after the murder,
McNevin saw Palmer and Williams. Palmer got off his horse
and said:
"McNevin, do you know what it is? I shot
Halligan."
McNevin said: "Good God, you wretch!"
Palmer continued: "I had to kill him, as he
knew me. Don't you tell Old Jack I told you, and if you
split I will blow your brains out."
The material facts were then proved.
Archibald gave evidence, and when counsel had addressed the
jury, and the judge had summed up, the jury, after seven
minutes' retirement, brought in a verdict of Guilty.
Williams ("Old Jack") was then arraigned. The
same counsel appeared for the Crown; Williams asked to have
counsel assigned, but this was not granted, though Mr.
Stable was allowed to cross-examine on his behalf. When,
however, Williams also desired to put questions, the judge
would not permit it, and Stable retired, leaving Old Jack to
conduct his own defence. The chief witness in this case was
Taylor, who had been accepted as Crown approver. He
desrcibed the division of the gold in the bush. He declared
that Old Jack told him he had shot Halligan. When Taylor
asked what they had done with the body, Palmer answered "I
swallowed it!" and went on to say "If anyone brings up our
names, I will come into town and blow out their brains on
their doorstep."
After the Crown case had closed, Old Jack
(who had adroitly examined several of the Crown witnesses)
delivered an extraordinarily eloquent address to the jury.
He skilfully analysed the evidence, and commented on the
methods pursued before the trial by the police and the
magistrate. His peroration may be read with interest; its
close argument, admirable diction, and passionate appeal are
a complete contrast to the laboured, repetitive, and often
absurd and obnoxious periods of such criminals as Deeming.
Coming from a "rouseabout" at saleyards, a verandah loafer,
a taciturn, secretive prisoner under a terrible charge, it
must have been a complete surprise to judge, jury, counsel,
and public. Here is the peroration:
"Is it fair? is it just? And you will
recollect that he (Taylor) is the second prisoner or
approver in this case who has been called on to give
evidence. Why they wanted but another, and that other
Archibald, to have had three-fourths of the untried in this
case in the witness-box, instead of the felon's dock. But
no, gentlemen, they would not put Archibald in the box --
his character was too well-known -- but they put Taylor in
the same yard as Archibald, and then put Taylor in the box .
. . . . I do not for a moment think, gentlemen, that the
evidence of this wretched man Taylor will weigh with you --
for recollect, gentlemen, he is also charged with murder --
with this murder, gentlemen . . . . . This is an awful -- a
terrible moment in my life, for my existence depends upon my
ability to defend myself, and convince you that I am
innocent of the crime laid to my charge. I feel how poor
that ability is -- how weak my strength in this supreme
moment . . . . . While others have acquaintances, friends
and relatives, to support, encourage, and cheer them in
their day of trouble and time of sorrow, I have no one, not
even a friend to give me a word of comfort and good cheer.
All who are near and dear to me are far distant from me now.
No loving faces of friends, bearing kindly and consoling
words, have come to brighten the gloom and darkness that
surround me on all sides. In peril and danger, I stand alone
against my enemies; and oh, gentlemen, at such times
solitude is hard to bear. It is not that I fear death; for,
being innocent as I am, death has not terrors for me. But it
is not death itself, it is the eternal disgrace that such a
death would leave behind-a legacy of shame and sorrow to
those who love me. Without means and without friends, I had
many difficulties to overcome in framing the poor defence I
have made. I did not know what evidence would be brought
against me, and could not defend myself on the evidence
taken in the police court . . . . . Whilst proclaiming my
innocence, gentlemen -- attempting, struggling to prove it
as best I might -- I have studiously avoided accusing any
other, unless when bound to do so in self-defence, and in
justice to my character and innocence. But though alone and
desolate, with no friends near me; with all the dangers that
encompass me thickly around; still I would not change places
with those who have attempted to swear my life away.
Confident of my innocence, I can proudly look around me and
meet the eyes of my fellow-men with unflinching look,
confiding in the promises of my God and my Creator that the
designs of the wicked shall not prevail. Strong in the
justice and righteousness of my cause, and in my innocence,
I place my case in your hands, gentlemen of the jury, with
these my last solemn words, my wish, and my prayer -- 'May
God Defend the Right.'"*
*Taken from the Rockhampton Bulletin.
Mr. Bird regards this speech as proof that
Old Jack's was the master mind in the murder plot. Indeed,
on all the facts of the case, reviewed at this distance, the
theory of Mr. Lilley looks more than probable -- that
Halligan was fired at by both Palmer and Old Jack, Palmer in
front and Old Jack from behind; that Halligan did not fire
at all; and that the bullet found in the tree was from the
murderous pistol of the eloquent Old Jack.
The jury, with this oratory still ringing in
their ears, were out considering their verdict for forty-two
minutes, and brought it in Guilty. Before being sentenced,
Old Jack again called Heaven as a witness of his innocence.
XI
WHEN Archibald was arraigned, a
point of interest to the legal profession arose. Counsel for
prisoner asked for a postponement of the trial till the next
sittings of the Court, on the ground that twenty-four men on
a panel of forty-eight had already sat on the two previous
cases and had found the prisoners guilty. If any of these
men, he argued, should be called to sit on a third jury, it
would be almost impossible for them to divest their minds of
the impression the previous evidence had made upon them. The
postponement was refused.
On the evidence it was shown that Archibald
volunteered a full disclosure, and made it to the police
after being warned that it would be used in evidence against
him. A witness also swore that, on the day Halligan's body
was found, Archibald tried to poison himself and called out
"Halligan's body is found, and I am done for."
Archibald's statement to the police was also
put in evidence. Before the summing up, the prisoner asked
the judge if it were possible that Taylor had been shown his
(Archibald's) written statement before he gave evidence in
the other cases. "The reason I ask the question is because,
when I was a witness, Taylor was a prisoner with Palmer and
Williams; and I was led to believe that I would be taken as
Queen's evidence. I was led to believe that before I went
into the box. Mr. Dick (his counsel) was put into the cell
with me to read Palmer's statement to me, for I cannot read
myself. Inspector Elliott gave Taylor my evidence to crack
up against me."
His Honour, after the Crown Prosecutor had
denied the truth of Archibald's charge, instructed the jury
that if prisoner aided or counselled Palmer and Williams,
knowing at the time that they were about to commit a
robbery, then they should find him guilty of the murder. If
they had any reasonable doubt, they would acquit. The jury,
after fifteen minutes' deliberation, found the prisoner
Guilty. In answer to the usual question, he declared again
that he was led to believe he would be accepted as an
approver, and had done all in his power to bring the
murderers to justice. Inspector Elliott, he said, "took me
by the hand and said 'By God, Archibald, I'll do what I can
to get you out of it.'"
Mr. Dick raised the point that Archibald's
statement should not have been admitted as evidence against
him. This point was reserved for the Full Court, and
eventually dismissed. A petition was also presented to the
Executive Council, asking for a reprieve on these grounds:
1--The Government had publicly offered a
reward for the apprehension and conviction of Halligan's
murderers, "and a free pardon to an accomplice, not actually
the murderer."
2--When Archibald was locked up, he almost
immediately asked to see Inspector Elliott, and told him
roughly the particulars, as well as indicating the place
where Williams would be found.
3--The same night he made and signed a
lengthy and detailed statement to Chief Inspector Murray.
4--He was not placed on his trial with the
other prisoners before the police magistrate, but was called
as a witness by the Crown, and gave evidence for the Crown
against the others, and was cross-examined.
Looking back on the matter, we are inclined
to think that the choice of Taylor instead of Archibald as
approver would hardly be sanctioned to-day. It looks as if
favouritism or influence were at work -- but Archibald
deserved his fate. Mr. Bird, nearer to the events than we
are, says "Most people would assume it was intended to
produce Archibald as Queen's evidence, even though no
promise had been made to the prisoner . . . . . That he was
justified in expecting to be accepted as an informer was
shown by the wording of the Government proclamation 'A free
pardon to an accomplice not actually the murderer' . . . . .
A little consideration goes to show that he was allowed to
hope that he would be accepted as an approver."
The petition was, however, refused.
XII
PALMER appeared to pay close
attention to the ministrations of his pastor, and repented
bitterly of his crime. Old Jack was stubborn to the last,
though he discussed religious matters with the clergyman in
a detached sort of way. When the fatal morning arrived,
another dramatic surprise occurred. A terrible tropical
storm followed abnormal sultry conditions, and as the
prisoners came out of the gaol on their way to the scaffold
it rained heavily, with thunder and lightning. Palmer,
looking broken down, nodded to some acquaintances in the
gaol yard. Old Jack was bold and undaunted. They knelt
at the foot of the gallows, and prayers for the dying were
read. Prayers were also said by the prisoners' pastors, who
then shook hands with the doomed men and left them. Palmer
mounted the steps first and was placed on the right-hand
side of the drop, facing the spectators. Williams followed,
but "it was some little time before the hangman fixed the
rope to Old Jack's satisfaction."
Williams asked Palmer if he had anything to
say. Palmer said "Nothing!" Then Williams began a speech "in
a loud and firm voice." I must quote Mr. Bird's account:
"The address was one of the most remarkable
ever delivered from the scaffold. Rain fell in torrents,
lightning flashed, and the thunder rolled as this man of
iron will poured forth a deluge of bitter invective against
those who had brought him to his doom. Palmer all this time
stood beside his partner in crime with a set despairing look
on his face, but silent. When Old Jack concluded, the
hangman drew the white caps over the faces of the two men.
The final arrangements were quickly completed. At a sign
from Mr. Wiseman the executioner drew the bolt. Death was
instantaneous in each case."
When Archibald's turn came a month later, he
left the condemned cell resigned and fearless. He prayed
fervently at the foot of the scaffold, and when on the drop
spoke, warning young men against drink, bad company, and
race-horses. He cried "Let me hear you say one word for me!
Let me hear you say 'The Lord have mercy on your soul!'"
The crowd, deeply touched, cried "Lord have
mercy on your soul!"
"Thanks be to the Great God! Now I die
happy!" Whereupon the bolt was drawn and the sentimental
murderer died instantly.
(End)
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IN AUSTRALIAN CRIME
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