The 1860s saw the height of the bushranging period in Colonial
Australia. Newspapers carried many reports of the exploits of these daring, desperate,
and ruthless outlaws. Not surprisingly, bushranging tales inspired many feckless
youths. But the reality was far from the mythology of the bushranger as “Robin
Hood”.
 |
| Bushrangers' Camp |
In November 1866, an unfortunate traveller by the name of George Cronan
unwisely chose to ask directions from a pair of young ne’er-do-wells in the
bush.
 |
| The Brisbane Courier February 7, 1867 |
The story was related in detail by Cronan during the proceedings of the
court in Ipswich the following February.[1]
On the 22nd November last I met the prisoner[2]
on the road between Normanby[3]
and Fassifern[4];
I had lost my way about sundown; the prisoner and another man were hunting cattle;
I went to them, and asked them the road to Fassifern; the prisoner said if he
told me I should not find the road, and that I had better camp with them for
the night; we rode on together for a short time, when another man (a third man)
came up and joined us; we then all camped, and made some tea and cakes[5].
 |
| View from Normanby Homestead |
The friendly atmosphere did not last long as the “gang” of young
would-be bushrangers soon retreated from the camp site to hatch their plan.
Sometime after supper the prisoner called the other two
men from the fire; they went about two hundred yards, when they returned, and
the prisoner took off his coat and asked if I had any saddle straps; I said
yes, and told him to take two off my saddle; he did so, and called me to him
(making use of a filthy expression), and said he would tie me to a tree; it was
no use, he wanted all I'd got.
Realising his outnumbered position, Cronan resigned himself to his fate
and made no attempt to resist the robbery.
He then called to another man to come and tie me tight,
adding that he supposed I did not know they were bloody bushrangers; the other
man then tied me to the tree, and the prisoner asked me if I'd got any bloody
money about me; before they tied me l told them that if they did me no harm I would
give them all I'd got.
I had thirty shillings about me; the prisoner took that
from me, and then went to my swag and searched my clothes, and took a towel and
a quart pot; the other man said if I told anything about this, the next time
they met me I'd know what they'd do to me; I said I would say nothing about it.
Generously, the desperados promised to return with a restorative drink
for their victim.
Before leaving, the prisoner and one of the other men
said, "Get loose, you bugger;” I said "I could not;" prisoner
said, "Stick there till the morning; we're going to the public-house, and
we'll get you a nobbler[6]."
It did not take long for Cronan to free himself from his bonds and make
his way to Ipswich to report his ordeal at the hands of the Colonial juvenile
delinquents. A few days later Patsy
Collins was arrested near Ipswich. Police Sergeant George Dyas told the court
of the apprehension and dramatic attempt at escape by his prisoner.
I apprehended the
prisoner on Sunday, the 25th November, at a house near the Three-mile Creek[7],
on the Toowoomba Road, and brought him to Ipswich; when I apprehended him and
told him the charge, he said he knew nothing about it, and said he would not
go; I told him he was bound to come, and I would bring him; he then consented to
come; Constable Cuffe was with me.
 |
| A Bushranger Escapes |
On the way down prisoner run me against the
telegraph post, and escaped from my custody; I called on him to pull up, and
told him I would shoot him; we got him again and brought him to Ipswich.
 |
| The Hon. Ratcliffe Pring, Q.C. |
The only defence offered by Patsy’s lawyer Pring was that the whole
episode was merely a youthful prank and that the one member of the gang who
incriminated his friend was an unreliable witness. Unfortunately for Patsy the jury were not
buying it.
His Hon. Mr. PRING, Q.C., then addressed the jury, and contended
that the evidence went to show that the whole transaction was one of practical
joking at bushranging, and that the evidence of the witness O'Loughlan, who was
one of the parties to the offence, ought to be received with great suspicion.
 |
| Court House, Ipswich ca. 1860 |
The ATTORNEY-GENERAL replied, and the CHIEF JUSTICE
having summed up, the jury returned a verdict of, guilty, with a strong recommendation
to mercy on account of his youth.
The CHIEF JUSTICE, in passing sentence, said that
notwithstanding the recommendation of the jury, to which he always paid the
greatest consideration, the prisoner had been convicted of an offence which
called for exemplary punishment, and the sentence of the court was that he be
kept to penal servitude for five years.
So ended the short bushranging career of Patsy Collins.
© K. C. Sbeghen,
2012.
[1]
Reported in The Brisbane Courier 7.2.1867. Note: According to a reader Cronan was a German immigrant whose actual name was Cronau.
[2]
The defendant, Patrick (Patsy) Collins.
[3] A
homestead near the present town of Harrisville.
[4] A
homestead near the present town of Kalbar.
[5]
Probably damper.
[6] A
small glass of rum or other spirit.
[7] A
crossing of the Bremer River near the present town of Walloon.
Collins' victim was a German immigrant whose proper name is Cronau, not Cronan.
ReplyDelete