This website is designed, researched and written by Mark Matthews. It may alter with expanded information and research as it comes to hand. This website is a work in progress...
"Ben Hall! Stockman, Squatter, Bushranger, from these personas, his character has remained an enigma. From a man held in high regard by all who knew him to a man through his own actions became one of the most hunted in colonial history, and who would ultimately die a violent and bloody death at the hands of his pursuers."- Mark Matthews.
Yes, in the annals of Australian history, the name Ben Hall stands out as one of the most infamous and intriguing figures of the 19th century. Born in a penal colony, raised in the rugged Australian bush, Hall's life story is as captivating as it is tragic.
This Website, "Ben Hall: From Stockman to Bushranger," aims to delve into the life and times of this notorious bushranger. Drawing from historical records, newspaper accounts, and personal testimonies, we will journey through Hall's life, from his humble beginnings in New South Wales to his violent end at the hands of the NSW police.
Ben Hall was not born a criminal. He was a child of convicts, yes, but he was also a skilled stockman, a loving brother, and father. A respected member of his community. So, how did this young man, known for his good looks and charm, become one of the most feared bushrangers in Australian history? What forces drove him to a life of crime? And how did his actions impact the lives of those around him and the course of Australian history?
In the following webpages, we will explore these questions and more. We will delve into the societal and historical context of Hall's life, shedding light on the conditions that gave rise to bushranging in 19th-century Australia. We will also examine Hall's personal relationships, his criminal exploits, and the legacy he left behind.
"Ben Hall: From Stockman to Bushranger" is more than just a biography. It is a journey into a fascinating and tumultuous period in Australian history, seen through the eyes of one of its most notorious figures. So, let us embark on this journey together, into the life and times of Ben Hall, the bushranger who captured the imagination and fear of a nation. (All historical related articles incorporated into the narrative are coloured and transcribed as published.)
Yes, in the annals of Australian history, the name Ben Hall stands out as one of the most infamous and intriguing figures of the 19th century. Born in a penal colony, raised in the rugged Australian bush, Hall's life story is as captivating as it is tragic.
This Website, "Ben Hall: From Stockman to Bushranger," aims to delve into the life and times of this notorious bushranger. Drawing from historical records, newspaper accounts, and personal testimonies, we will journey through Hall's life, from his humble beginnings in New South Wales to his violent end at the hands of the NSW police.
Ben Hall was not born a criminal. He was a child of convicts, yes, but he was also a skilled stockman, a loving brother, and father. A respected member of his community. So, how did this young man, known for his good looks and charm, become one of the most feared bushrangers in Australian history? What forces drove him to a life of crime? And how did his actions impact the lives of those around him and the course of Australian history?
In the following webpages, we will explore these questions and more. We will delve into the societal and historical context of Hall's life, shedding light on the conditions that gave rise to bushranging in 19th-century Australia. We will also examine Hall's personal relationships, his criminal exploits, and the legacy he left behind.
"Ben Hall: From Stockman to Bushranger" is more than just a biography. It is a journey into a fascinating and tumultuous period in Australian history, seen through the eyes of one of its most notorious figures. So, let us embark on this journey together, into the life and times of Ben Hall, the bushranger who captured the imagination and fear of a nation. (All historical related articles incorporated into the narrative are coloured and transcribed as published.)
BEN HALL
Originally held by William Hall
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| A Good Looking Man |
Benjamin Hall was born in May 1837 at Maitland, in the Hunter Valley of New South Wales, into a colony still deeply shaped by transportation and the convict system. Both of his parents had arrived in Australia under sentence from Britain, and the circumstances of their beginnings in the colony were typical of a generation whose families would later become firmly established upon the Australian frontier.
His father, Benjamin Hall senior, was born at Bristol, England, in 1805. Convicted of theft, he was sentenced to seven years' transportation and arrived at Port Jackson in 1827 aboard the Midas. Ben's mother, Eliza Somers, was born in Dublin in 1808 and likewise received a seven-year sentence for theft. She reached New South Wales in 1830 aboard the Asia I.
His father, Benjamin Hall senior, was born at Bristol, England, in 1805. Convicted of theft, he was sentenced to seven years' transportation and arrived at Port Jackson in 1827 aboard the Midas. Ben's mother, Eliza Somers, was born in Dublin in 1808 and likewise received a seven-year sentence for theft. She reached New South Wales in 1830 aboard the Asia I.
From these transported beginnings the Hall family gradually established itself in the colony. Their son Ben belonged to the first generation born upon Australian soil—a native-born colonial whose childhood would be spent not within the settled streets of Sydney or Maitland, but increasingly on the pastoral frontier.
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| Hall's Creek Area. Google Earth image. |
In 1838, when Ben was still an infant, Benjamin and Eliza Hall left the more settled Hunter Valley and moved their family westward into the interior. They eventually established themselves in the rugged country around the headwaters of the Macquarie River, near present-day Barry and the mountainous locality now associated with Ben Hall's Gap.
Upon reaching the Barnard River district, the Hall family established a modest homestead beside a small creek that flowed into the river. Benjamin Hall senior built their dwelling on its banks, and in later years the watercourse became known as Ben Hall's Creek, a reminder of the family's long association with the locality. The country was remote, rugged and heavily timbered. Winters were often bitterly cold, with snow not uncommon on the surrounding ranges, while the summers could be intensely hot. Later residents would simply describe it as "very mountainous country,"¹ a landscape that demanded resilience from those who attempted to make a living there.
The route by which the family reached this isolated district can be reconstructed with reasonable confidence. A. A. McLellan, in Benjamin Hall and Family, suggests that the Halls most likely followed the inland track established by the Australian Agricultural Company, travelling through Arden Hall, Belltrees and Ellerston before joining the Walcha Track to Glenrock. From there they descended to the junction of the Barnard River and the creek that would later bear the Hall name.
For Benjamin Hall senior, survival depended upon resourcefulness rather than capital. Like many frontier settlers of the period, he built his herd by capturing wild cattle and horses that roamed the surrounding valleys. These animals, descendants of stock that had strayed from earlier pastoral runs, provided the foundation of the family's livelihood. Through hard work and bushcraft, the Halls gradually established themselves in a district where self-reliance was essential, and neighbours were few.
It was in this isolated frontier environment that Ben Hall spent his earliest years. Surrounded by horses, cattle and the daily demands of pastoral life, he acquired the practical bush skills that later became second nature. The rugged country of Murrurundi, with its steep ranges, dense timber and hidden valleys, formed the backdrop of his childhood and instilled the horsemanship, endurance and intimate knowledge of the Australian bush that would later prove invaluable during his years as a stockman—and, ultimately, as a bushranger.
Upon reaching the Barnard River district, the Hall family established a modest homestead beside a small creek that flowed into the river. Benjamin Hall senior built their dwelling on its banks, and in later years the watercourse became known as Ben Hall's Creek, a reminder of the family's long association with the locality. The country was remote, rugged and heavily timbered. Winters were often bitterly cold, with snow not uncommon on the surrounding ranges, while the summers could be intensely hot. Later residents would simply describe it as "very mountainous country,"¹ a landscape that demanded resilience from those who attempted to make a living there.
The route by which the family reached this isolated district can be reconstructed with reasonable confidence. A. A. McLellan, in Benjamin Hall and Family, suggests that the Halls most likely followed the inland track established by the Australian Agricultural Company, travelling through Arden Hall, Belltrees and Ellerston before joining the Walcha Track to Glenrock. From there they descended to the junction of the Barnard River and the creek that would later bear the Hall name.
For Benjamin Hall senior, survival depended upon resourcefulness rather than capital. Like many frontier settlers of the period, he built his herd by capturing wild cattle and horses that roamed the surrounding valleys. These animals, descendants of stock that had strayed from earlier pastoral runs, provided the foundation of the family's livelihood. Through hard work and bushcraft, the Halls gradually established themselves in a district where self-reliance was essential, and neighbours were few.
It was in this isolated frontier environment that Ben Hall spent his earliest years. Surrounded by horses, cattle and the daily demands of pastoral life, he acquired the practical bush skills that later became second nature. The rugged country of Murrurundi, with its steep ranges, dense timber and hidden valleys, formed the backdrop of his childhood and instilled the horsemanship, endurance and intimate knowledge of the Australian bush that would later prove invaluable during his years as a stockman—and, ultimately, as a bushranger.
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| Remains of the Halls Creek home. c. 1932. Courtesy A.A. McLellan. |
The isolation of Hall's Creek, however, came at a cost. While the district offered Benjamin Hall senior opportunities to establish stock, its remoteness and demanding conditions proved far less appealing to his wife, Eliza. After two years of carving out a living in the mountainous country, the family decided to leave the Barnard River and return to a more settled district.
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| March 1841 |
In 1840 they moved to the newly established village of Haydonton, founded by the brothers Peter and Thomas Haydon. Seeking labour for their expanding pastoral and agricultural enterprises, the Haydons had secured a grant of approximately 1,000 acres, part of which they subdivided into town allotments. Around this nucleus a small but growing settlement quickly emerged.
For Eliza Hall, the move represented a marked improvement in living conditions. Instead of an isolated homestead surrounded by rugged bush, Haydonton offered the advantages of an emerging township, including neighbours, shops, tradesmen and the social interaction largely absent from life at Hall's Creek. Although still a frontier settlement, it provided a far greater sense of community than the lonely valleys of the upper Barnard.
For Eliza Hall, the move represented a marked improvement in living conditions. Instead of an isolated homestead surrounded by rugged bush, Haydonton offered the advantages of an emerging township, including neighbours, shops, tradesmen and the social interaction largely absent from life at Hall's Creek. Although still a frontier settlement, it provided a far greater sense of community than the lonely valleys of the upper Barnard.
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Bridge House,built by Samuel Clift |
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| Benjamin Hall land purchase Haydonton. Courtesy Haydon papers Vol-3 |
"The first parcel to be sold was 2 acres situated on the south side of the main road at the ford and is the parcel of land now bounded by Mayne, Adelaide and Liverpool Streets and the Page's River. The purchaser was Benjamin Hall, a ticket-of-leave holder, but an independent grazier from Breeza where he had been employed by Samuel Clift. He paid £140, a price which indicated that there was probably a hut on the land."
The location was an excellent one. Situated beside the principal crossing of the Pages River and adjacent to the Great Northern Road—today's New England Highway—it occupied one of the most prominent positions in the infant settlement. The purchase price of £140 was substantial, suggesting that a rudimentary dwelling already stood on the property.
Benjamin Hall senior quickly improved the holding. The original hut was enlarged into a more substantial slab-built residence roofed with bark and containing three bedrooms. As the family's circumstances improved, additional buildings were erected, including a butcher's shop and a blacksmith's forge. Together these transformed the property from a simple frontier dwelling into a productive family enterprise that served both the growing township and travellers passing through the district.
The success of the Hall family was no accident. Recent research into Benjamin Hall senior's background has confirmed that before his conviction and transportation he had worked in England as a butcher, or skinner. Those skills, carried with him across the world despite his convict sentence, proved invaluable in colonial New South Wales. They enabled him to establish a prosperous butchering business at Haydonton and provide his young family with a level of stability and prosperity uncommon among recently emancipated convicts.
For young Ben Hall, the move marked another important stage in his upbringing. Instead of being raised solely in the isolation of the frontier, he now grew up within a busy rural settlement where drovers, stockmen, blacksmiths, teamsters and travellers were part of everyday life. His father's success also demonstrated an important lesson: in colonial Australia, determination, practical skill and hard work could allow even former convicts to build respectable and prosperous lives.
Benjamin Hall senior quickly improved the holding. The original hut was enlarged into a more substantial slab-built residence roofed with bark and containing three bedrooms. As the family's circumstances improved, additional buildings were erected, including a butcher's shop and a blacksmith's forge. Together these transformed the property from a simple frontier dwelling into a productive family enterprise that served both the growing township and travellers passing through the district.
The success of the Hall family was no accident. Recent research into Benjamin Hall senior's background has confirmed that before his conviction and transportation he had worked in England as a butcher, or skinner. Those skills, carried with him across the world despite his convict sentence, proved invaluable in colonial New South Wales. They enabled him to establish a prosperous butchering business at Haydonton and provide his young family with a level of stability and prosperity uncommon among recently emancipated convicts.
For young Ben Hall, the move marked another important stage in his upbringing. Instead of being raised solely in the isolation of the frontier, he now grew up within a busy rural settlement where drovers, stockmen, blacksmiths, teamsters and travellers were part of everyday life. His father's success also demonstrated an important lesson: in colonial Australia, determination, practical skill and hard work could allow even former convicts to build respectable and prosperous lives.
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Reputed home of the
Hall family,
Murrurundi.
However, this may actually be the rented home of Dr Hallett. c. 1900. Courtesy A.A. McLellan. |
In 1854, amid growing marital difficulties, the property was advertised for sale. The advertisement provides one of the most detailed contemporary descriptions of the Hall family's home:
"In the flourishing town of Haydonton... are erected a snug cottage, three rooms, butcher's shop, kitchen, blacksmith's shop; a splendid well of water, commanding from ten to fifteen feet of water in dry seasons; a small orchard, garden, three stock yards, two gallows; and the whole is enclosed by a four-railed fence. The property's situation is eligible, having an extensive frontage, and commands the main thoroughfare to all the Northern Diggings."
The advertisement illustrates just how successfully Benjamin Hall senior had developed the property since purchasing it little more than a decade earlier. What had begun as a simple allotment had become a valuable commercial holding occupying a prominent position beside the principal route to the northern goldfields. Its combination of residence, workshops, stockyards, orchard and reliable water supply reflected the prosperity that an industrious tradesman could achieve in colonial New South Wales.
Research contained within the Haydon Family Papers suggests that the Hall held two residences and the one depicted (right) may have been the bark-roofed slab cottage later rented to Dr Hallett on Mayne Street. If correct, this would identify one of the few surviving visual associations with Ben Hall's childhood home.
Research contained within the Haydon Family Papers suggests that the Hall held two residences and the one depicted (right) may have been the bark-roofed slab cottage later rented to Dr Hallett on Mayne Street. If correct, this would identify one of the few surviving visual associations with Ben Hall's childhood home.
There also was a medical practitioner residing in Haydonton in a house belonging to Benjamin Hall - Dr Hallett.
An equally valuable contemporary glimpse of the township itself comes from the English traveller Joseph Phipps Townsend, whose Rambles and Observations in New South Wales described Murrurundi during the period of Hall's youth. Townsend found a small but thriving frontier community, with two well-built inns, a large general store, several brick cottages among numerous bark huts, a courthouse in the bush, and a slab-built Roman Catholic chapel. Behind the township the Pages River wound quietly through the valley, while cattle grazed freely on the surrounding waste lands.
Townsend was struck by the contentment of the inhabitants. Most families, he observed, owned cattle running upon the surrounding country and consequently "were at no loss either for meat, or a matter of constant interest." His description portrays a settlement that, although isolated, possessed the confidence and optimism characteristic of an expanding pastoral frontier.
It was in this environment that Ben Hall spent his formative years. Alongside his elder brothers—Thomas Wade, William and Edward—he helped capture and muster wild cattle and horses in the rugged country surrounding Murrurundi. These were not merely childhood adventures but an essential contribution to the family's livelihood. The work demanded courage, horsemanship and intimate familiarity with difficult country. Long before Hall became known as a bushranger, he had earned a reputation as an accomplished horseman and bushman. The skills acquired during these years would later enable him to travel extraordinary distances, evade police through difficult terrain and survive where less experienced riders could not.
Despite its later importance, Haydonton remained a very small settlement. In 1841 neighbouring Murrurundi contained only eleven houses and a population of fifty-two people, while Haydonton itself was even smaller, with just twenty-two residents. Yet each settlement possessed an inn that served as its social and commercial centre—the White Swan at Murrurundi and the White Hart at Haydonton. Around these establishments revolved much of the district's business, travel and exchange of news.
Educational opportunities were equally limited. Formal schooling scarcely existed during Hall's early childhood. Instruction was initially provided informally by James Gowan, a former lock-up keeper who acted more as a tutor than a professional schoolmaster. Recognising the deficiencies, Thomas Haydon led efforts to establish a National School for the district. At the time, some 120 school-aged children had no regular access to education following the departure of the Reverend George Anderson.
Funding such a school proved difficult. Parents were asked to contribute five pounds annually—a considerable burden for frontier families—while also assisting with the construction of both the schoolhouse and the master's residence. Despite these obstacles, a National School finally opened in 1851 under the direction of Alexander Brodie and his sister, Mrs Reid.
Townsend was struck by the contentment of the inhabitants. Most families, he observed, owned cattle running upon the surrounding country and consequently "were at no loss either for meat, or a matter of constant interest." His description portrays a settlement that, although isolated, possessed the confidence and optimism characteristic of an expanding pastoral frontier.
It was in this environment that Ben Hall spent his formative years. Alongside his elder brothers—Thomas Wade, William and Edward—he helped capture and muster wild cattle and horses in the rugged country surrounding Murrurundi. These were not merely childhood adventures but an essential contribution to the family's livelihood. The work demanded courage, horsemanship and intimate familiarity with difficult country. Long before Hall became known as a bushranger, he had earned a reputation as an accomplished horseman and bushman. The skills acquired during these years would later enable him to travel extraordinary distances, evade police through difficult terrain and survive where less experienced riders could not.
Despite its later importance, Haydonton remained a very small settlement. In 1841 neighbouring Murrurundi contained only eleven houses and a population of fifty-two people, while Haydonton itself was even smaller, with just twenty-two residents. Yet each settlement possessed an inn that served as its social and commercial centre—the White Swan at Murrurundi and the White Hart at Haydonton. Around these establishments revolved much of the district's business, travel and exchange of news.
Educational opportunities were equally limited. Formal schooling scarcely existed during Hall's early childhood. Instruction was initially provided informally by James Gowan, a former lock-up keeper who acted more as a tutor than a professional schoolmaster. Recognising the deficiencies, Thomas Haydon led efforts to establish a National School for the district. At the time, some 120 school-aged children had no regular access to education following the departure of the Reverend George Anderson.
Funding such a school proved difficult. Parents were asked to contribute five pounds annually—a considerable burden for frontier families—while also assisting with the construction of both the schoolhouse and the master's residence. Despite these obstacles, a National School finally opened in 1851 under the direction of Alexander Brodie and his sister, Mrs Reid.
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| Hall's mark. Marriage Certificate. |
Therefore, records do not indicate that Ben Hall attended any school. Unlike his elder sister Mary, whereas Ben remained illiterate throughout his life, signing documents with an X. What is clear is that his real education lay beyond the classroom. The hills, rivers and stock routes of the Upper Hunter became his school; horses, cattle and the demanding routines of pastoral life his teachers. It was an upbringing that produced not only an accomplished stockman but one of the finest horsemen of his generation.
As the Hall family's prosperity increased, so too did Benjamin Hall senior's investments within the township. In addition to the family residence, he acquired a second property in Haydonton, which he leased to the local medical practitioner, Dr Hallett. The transaction is recorded in the Haydon Family Papers (Vol. 3, p. 32) and illustrates that, by the mid-1840s, Hall senior had progressed well beyond subsistence, establishing himself as both a tradesman and property owner.
Livestock remained central to the family's prosperity. Like many small settlers on the colonial frontier, the Halls relied upon cattle and horses as both working assets and stores of wealth. Yet ownership of stock in the unsettled districts of New South Wales was frequently accompanied by suspicion. Stock wandered over vast unfenced runs, brands were altered or removed, and proving ownership could be difficult. The line between legitimate acquisition and stock theft was often blurred, particularly in districts where escaped animals and wild cattle roamed freely.
By 1845, Benjamin Hall senior had come under increasing scrutiny. Local opinion increasingly regarded him as a cattle and horse thief, and allegations concerning the origin of his livestock became more persistent. Whether every accusation was justified is difficult to determine today, but contemporary records demonstrate that his reputation had become firmly tarnished.
The atmosphere of Haydonton itself did little to discourage such behaviour. As a frontier settlement serving travellers, stockmen and teamsters, the township acquired a reputation for heavy drinking, gambling and frequent disorder. The White Hart Inn became the centre of much of this activity, and even members of the local police were not immune to its influence.
A correspondent to The Australian painted an unflattering picture of the settlement in April 1843 after the district's Chief Constable, William Shields, seriously injured himself while allegedly intoxicated. According to the report, Shields had been displaying his horsemanship outside the White Hart after consuming excessive liquor, attempting to leap logs to entertain spectators. The correspondent observed that Haydonton had become a gathering place for "low life characters," where horse racing, cricket and other diversions were of almost daily occurrence, adding pointedly that the constables themselves were enthusiastic participants rather than impartial guardians of the peace.
Whether exaggerated or not, the article reflects the reputation Haydonton had acquired during the early 1840s. It was a settlement where policing was often imperfect, alcohol flowed freely, and respectable citizens lived alongside men whose occupations and characters were considerably less certain.
Concerned by the growing social problems, Thomas Haydon attempted to improve conditions by establishing a Temperance Society. Although membership remained modest, Haydon later remarked upon what he believed was a noticeable improvement in the behaviour and appearance of the township's inhabitants, recording that "the change in morals and appearance of the people is wonderful."
For Benjamin Hall senior, however, improving public morals came too late.
The allegations surrounding his stock dealings eventually attracted official attention, culminating in the issue of a warrant for his arrest on a charge of horse stealing. Before the authorities could execute the warrant, James Gowan—the town's lock-up keeper and a friend of Hall senior—warned him that his arrest was imminent. Gowan's loyalty cost him his position; once his actions became known, he was dismissed from the service.
Forewarned, Benjamin Hall senior fled before the police arrived. Assisted by his wife Eliza and his eldest son William, he escaped from Haydonton and travelled approximately two hundred miles south into the Lachlan district, placing considerable distance between himself and the authorities.
The flight marked a decisive turning point in the fortunes of the Hall family. Young Ben Hall was still only a boy, yet he had now witnessed the collapse of his father's respectable position within the community. The successful butcher, property owner and independent settler became a fugitive from the law. The move to the Lachlan would remove the family from the relative stability of the Upper Hunter and place them within another frontier district—one that would ultimately become inseparable from Ben Hall's own life and legend.
Livestock remained central to the family's prosperity. Like many small settlers on the colonial frontier, the Halls relied upon cattle and horses as both working assets and stores of wealth. Yet ownership of stock in the unsettled districts of New South Wales was frequently accompanied by suspicion. Stock wandered over vast unfenced runs, brands were altered or removed, and proving ownership could be difficult. The line between legitimate acquisition and stock theft was often blurred, particularly in districts where escaped animals and wild cattle roamed freely.
By 1845, Benjamin Hall senior had come under increasing scrutiny. Local opinion increasingly regarded him as a cattle and horse thief, and allegations concerning the origin of his livestock became more persistent. Whether every accusation was justified is difficult to determine today, but contemporary records demonstrate that his reputation had become firmly tarnished.
The atmosphere of Haydonton itself did little to discourage such behaviour. As a frontier settlement serving travellers, stockmen and teamsters, the township acquired a reputation for heavy drinking, gambling and frequent disorder. The White Hart Inn became the centre of much of this activity, and even members of the local police were not immune to its influence.
A correspondent to The Australian painted an unflattering picture of the settlement in April 1843 after the district's Chief Constable, William Shields, seriously injured himself while allegedly intoxicated. According to the report, Shields had been displaying his horsemanship outside the White Hart after consuming excessive liquor, attempting to leap logs to entertain spectators. The correspondent observed that Haydonton had become a gathering place for "low life characters," where horse racing, cricket and other diversions were of almost daily occurrence, adding pointedly that the constables themselves were enthusiastic participants rather than impartial guardians of the peace.
Whether exaggerated or not, the article reflects the reputation Haydonton had acquired during the early 1840s. It was a settlement where policing was often imperfect, alcohol flowed freely, and respectable citizens lived alongside men whose occupations and characters were considerably less certain.
Concerned by the growing social problems, Thomas Haydon attempted to improve conditions by establishing a Temperance Society. Although membership remained modest, Haydon later remarked upon what he believed was a noticeable improvement in the behaviour and appearance of the township's inhabitants, recording that "the change in morals and appearance of the people is wonderful."
For Benjamin Hall senior, however, improving public morals came too late.
The allegations surrounding his stock dealings eventually attracted official attention, culminating in the issue of a warrant for his arrest on a charge of horse stealing. Before the authorities could execute the warrant, James Gowan—the town's lock-up keeper and a friend of Hall senior—warned him that his arrest was imminent. Gowan's loyalty cost him his position; once his actions became known, he was dismissed from the service.
Forewarned, Benjamin Hall senior fled before the police arrived. Assisted by his wife Eliza and his eldest son William, he escaped from Haydonton and travelled approximately two hundred miles south into the Lachlan district, placing considerable distance between himself and the authorities.
The flight marked a decisive turning point in the fortunes of the Hall family. Young Ben Hall was still only a boy, yet he had now witnessed the collapse of his father's respectable position within the community. The successful butcher, property owner and independent settler became a fugitive from the law. The move to the Lachlan would remove the family from the relative stability of the Upper Hunter and place them within another frontier district—one that would ultimately become inseparable from Ben Hall's own life and legend.
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| Ben Hall's father Wanted. Courtesy N.L.A. |
Benjamin Hall's departure did not bring the matter to a close. By the mid-1840s, stock theft had become one of the greatest concerns confronting pastoralists throughout the Upper Hunter. Horses and cattle represented substantial capital, and organised theft threatened the prosperity of both large landholders and smaller settlers alike. In response, influential graziers established voluntary associations dedicated to suppressing livestock theft, offering substantial rewards for the capture and conviction of offenders. Among the most active were the Upper Hunter District and Scone District Associations for the Suppression of Horse, Cattle and Sheep Stealing.
With Hall senior now beyond the district, these associations joined with the colonial authorities in seeking his arrest. A reward notice offering £15 for his apprehension was widely circulated through the Government Gazette and colonial newspapers, ensuring that his description became known throughout New South Wales.
The reward notice has occasionally caused confusion because it also named Alexander Paterson. The two men were not sought for the same offence. Paterson appeared on the notice in connection with an entirely separate charge of horse stealing. His case was quickly resolved when he was arrested in Sydney, returned to Maitland for trial, convicted on 19 September 1846, and sentenced to ten years' transportation to Van Diemen's Land aboard the Louisa. Hall senior, by contrast, remained at large.
The pastoral associations further increased the incentive for his capture by offering an additional £10 reward, demonstrating the determination of local landowners to suppress organised stock theft. Their efforts formed part of a broader movement towards coordinated policing and private cooperation in combating rural crime during the 1840s.
Hall senior successfully evaded capture for more than two years. During that time he lived under the protection of Hugh Hamilton on the Lachlan, beyond the immediate reach of the Upper Hunter authorities. His freedom finally ended in October 1848 when Constable Hoy of the New South Wales Mounted Police identified and arrested him near the Lachlan River. He was subsequently returned to Murrurundi to answer the outstanding charge.
During Benjamin Hall senior's absence, the burden of maintaining the family's livelihood fell largely upon Eliza and the children. They continued operating the property as best they could, tending livestock, butchering animals and supplementing their income through the sale of fruit and vegetables. Their efforts demonstrate that the Hall family enterprise remained viable despite the loss of its principal breadwinner.
The authorities, however, did not confine their attention to Benjamin Hall senior alone.
Suspicion soon extended to his eldest son, William Hall. Although only eleven years of age, William was arrested on allegations of horse stealing, accused of assisting his father in the movement of stolen stock. The accusation illustrates both the intensity of official scrutiny directed at the Hall family and the extent to which Benjamin Hall senior's reputation had tainted those closest to him.
With Hall senior now beyond the district, these associations joined with the colonial authorities in seeking his arrest. A reward notice offering £15 for his apprehension was widely circulated through the Government Gazette and colonial newspapers, ensuring that his description became known throughout New South Wales.
The reward notice has occasionally caused confusion because it also named Alexander Paterson. The two men were not sought for the same offence. Paterson appeared on the notice in connection with an entirely separate charge of horse stealing. His case was quickly resolved when he was arrested in Sydney, returned to Maitland for trial, convicted on 19 September 1846, and sentenced to ten years' transportation to Van Diemen's Land aboard the Louisa. Hall senior, by contrast, remained at large.
The pastoral associations further increased the incentive for his capture by offering an additional £10 reward, demonstrating the determination of local landowners to suppress organised stock theft. Their efforts formed part of a broader movement towards coordinated policing and private cooperation in combating rural crime during the 1840s.
Hall senior successfully evaded capture for more than two years. During that time he lived under the protection of Hugh Hamilton on the Lachlan, beyond the immediate reach of the Upper Hunter authorities. His freedom finally ended in October 1848 when Constable Hoy of the New South Wales Mounted Police identified and arrested him near the Lachlan River. He was subsequently returned to Murrurundi to answer the outstanding charge.
During Benjamin Hall senior's absence, the burden of maintaining the family's livelihood fell largely upon Eliza and the children. They continued operating the property as best they could, tending livestock, butchering animals and supplementing their income through the sale of fruit and vegetables. Their efforts demonstrate that the Hall family enterprise remained viable despite the loss of its principal breadwinner.
The authorities, however, did not confine their attention to Benjamin Hall senior alone.
Suspicion soon extended to his eldest son, William Hall. Although only eleven years of age, William was arrested on allegations of horse stealing, accused of assisting his father in the movement of stolen stock. The accusation illustrates both the intensity of official scrutiny directed at the Hall family and the extent to which Benjamin Hall senior's reputation had tainted those closest to him.
Among the allegations associated with the investigation was the particularly cruel practice of killing branded mares in order to obtain possession of their unbranded foals. Contemporary evidence described mares having their throats cut so that the foals, no longer bearing any obvious connection to their rightful owners, could be claimed and reared as apparently legitimate stock. Whether Benjamin Hall senior personally committed every act attributed to him remains a matter for the historical record, but such accusations reveal the methods commonly associated with organised horse stealing in colonial New South Wales and the reasons pastoralists regarded the offence with such seriousness.
The killing of two mares for their Unbranded foals by slitting the mare's throats and letting them bleed to death.⁴
For young Ben Hall, these events proved formative. Before reaching adolescence, he had seen his father transformed from a respected butcher and property owner into a wanted fugitive, watched his family survive under the shadow of official investigation, and witnessed his elder brother become entangled in the same accusations. The experience undoubtedly exposed him, from an early age, to both the realities of frontier policing and the precarious boundary that could exist between respectable pastoral life and criminality in colonial Australia.
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William Hall, 1910
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Evidence later given by Thomas Blair, Clerk of the Court, provides a disturbing glimpse into William's treatment while in custody. Blair described a frightened child, overwhelmed by both his surroundings and the pressure placed upon him during the investigation.
"The boy cried very much through fear; he was kept there some days."
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William Hall, aged eleven, Parramatta Gaol Entrance Book, 4th October 1845.
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When William Hall's trial commenced at Maitland in March 1846, the young boy found himself in the impossible position of giving evidence in proceedings that centred upon his own father. Despite the pressures placed upon him during months of imprisonment, William initially attempted to shield Benjamin Hall senior from implication.
His efforts quickly drew the attention of the presiding judge.
When asked to identify the man who had accompanied him to Abbott's Run, William deliberately withheld the individual's name. The judge immediately intervened, explaining that identifying the person would not incriminate him merely by naming him. Only after this rebuke did William reluctantly answer that the man was "Benjamin Hall, his father."
The exchange demonstrated both the boy's instinctive loyalty and the emotional conflict in which he found himself. Even after months in custody and separation from his family, William's first reaction was still to protect his father.
Under further examination, however, he made admissions that proved deeply damaging to Benjamin Hall senior's defence. William acknowledged that he had himself been involved in horse stealing, although he attempted to minimise his own participation. He stated that he had not "quite helped" to kill the mares, adding that the actual killing had been carried out by his father and William Butler.
The evidence offered the court a rare insight into the operation of organised horse stealing in the colony. The destruction of branded mares allowed their unbranded foals to be retained and later claimed as legitimately acquired stock. Whether William fully appreciated the significance of his testimony is doubtful, but his evidence directly connected his father with the offences under investigation.
Not all contemporary observers viewed the boy sympathetically.
One newspaper contrasted William's youth with what it regarded as his apparent familiarity with criminal deception, remarking:
"But that of Hall, a boy, although young in years, evidently old in crime, and well versed in dissimulation."
The comment almost certainly reflects contemporary journalistic prejudice as much as objective observation. William had spent months imprisoned, separated from his family, questioned repeatedly by police and ultimately called upon to give evidence against his own father. His inconsistent attempts both to protect Benjamin Hall senior and to satisfy the court are perhaps more readily explained by fear, divided loyalties and the extraordinary pressures placed upon a child than by any innate criminality.
Nevertheless, the proceedings left an enduring impression upon the Hall family.
Young Ben Hall watched as his elder brother was publicly examined, imprisoned and portrayed in the colonial press as already corrupted by crime. Before Ben had reached adolescence, he had witnessed his father's transformation into a wanted stock thief, his family's public disgrace, his mother's rejection of William following his testimony, and the criminal courts becoming deeply entwined with the fortunes of the Hall household.
These experiences formed part of the environment in which Ben Hall grew to maturity. Long before he became a bushranger himself, he had been exposed to the realities of colonial policing, criminal prosecution and the devastating effect that accusations of stock theft could have upon an entire family.
Nevertheless, the proceedings left an enduring impression upon the Hall family.
Young Ben Hall watched as his elder brother was publicly examined, imprisoned and portrayed in the colonial press as already corrupted by crime. Before Ben had reached adolescence, he had witnessed his father's transformation into a wanted stock thief, his family's public disgrace, his mother's rejection of William following his testimony, and the criminal courts becoming deeply entwined with the fortunes of the Hall household.
These experiences formed part of the environment in which Ben Hall grew to maturity. Long before he became a bushranger himself, he had been exposed to the realities of colonial policing, criminal prosecution and the devastating effect that accusations of stock theft could have upon an entire family.
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| Mary Hall c. 1905. Penzig. |
No one told her to say so here. She told her mother what she had heard from her brother. Her brother used to ride about after the cattle; her father had 60 or 70 head, and 8 or 10 head of horses.¹⁰
During the trial, it came to light that Mary was the only child from the Hall family receiving formal education. She was being taught by Mr. James Gowan, who had been referenced earlier in the proceedings. Mr. Gowan made the following statement:
He had a daughter of Benjamin Hall's at his school, but was not aware of her coming to the Court to contradict her brother; his school was within eighty yards of the lockup and was patronised by the most respectable people in Murrurundi. Considerable laughter was excited by this witness's off-hand manner of giving his evidence.¹¹
William avoided incarceration and, upon being released, received a sharp rebuke, noted as an admonition from the judge. The effect of their mother's treatment of their older brother on the other siblings remains ambiguous. Nonetheless, for Thomas Wade, Mary, William, and Ben Hall with their father prepared to head for the Lachlan region, suggesting a possible relocation for the entire family.
Benjamin Hall senior intended that his family should eventually join him in the Lachlan after his escape from Murrurundi. Those plans, however, never came to fruition.
Eliza Hall, then heavily pregnant with the couple's youngest child, Ellen, refused to undertake the journey. According to A. A. McLellan in Benjamin Hall and Family, her decision was based upon both practical necessity and bitter personal experience. She objected to the long and arduous journey into the Lachlan and dreaded returning to the primitive frontier conditions she had endured during the family's earlier years at Hall's Creek.
McLellan records:
"However, Eliza, who was then pregnant, objected to moving both on the ground of the long and tedious journey to get to the Lachlan area and that she and the children would be returning to primitive conditions she had endured."
Her decision permanently altered the course of the Hall family.
Rather than the entire household relocating, the family was divided. Benjamin Hall senior departed for the Lachlan accompanied by four of his children, including young Ben, while Eliza remained behind at Murrurundi with the others to await the birth of Ellen.
The separation proved permanent.
Among those left behind was Ben's elder brother Edward. Contemporary family accounts suggest that Edward deeply resented both his father's departure and the decision to take Ben instead of him. Whether that choice reflected Benjamin Hall senior's particular confidence in his younger son or simply practical considerations cannot now be known, but it appears to have created a lasting estrangement between father and son that was never repaired.
For Ben Hall, the consequences were profound. The journey to the Lachlan marked the beginning of a new life under the guidance of his father, separated from the influence of his mother and the settled community in which he had spent his childhood. It was also, unknowingly, a final farewell.
Ben Hall never saw his mother again.
Eliza Hall remained in the Upper Hunter, where she gave birth to her youngest child, Ellen. She lived until 1869, surviving both her estranged husband and the bushranging career of the son who had left with him more than twenty years earlier. By the time of her death, Ben Hall himself had been dead for four years, killed beside Billabong Creek on 5 May 1865.
The family's division in 1845 therefore became far more than a temporary separation. It marked the point at which Ben Hall's upbringing diverged permanently from that of the siblings who remained with their mother. From then onward, his formative years would be spent in the Lachlan under the influence of Benjamin Hall senior—a man already living beyond the reach of the law and immersed in the rough pastoral frontier that would ultimately shape his son's destiny.
Rather than the entire household relocating, the family was divided. Benjamin Hall senior departed for the Lachlan accompanied by four of his children, including young Ben, while Eliza remained behind at Murrurundi with the others to await the birth of Ellen.
The separation proved permanent.
Among those left behind was Ben's elder brother Edward. Contemporary family accounts suggest that Edward deeply resented both his father's departure and the decision to take Ben instead of him. Whether that choice reflected Benjamin Hall senior's particular confidence in his younger son or simply practical considerations cannot now be known, but it appears to have created a lasting estrangement between father and son that was never repaired.
For Ben Hall, the consequences were profound. The journey to the Lachlan marked the beginning of a new life under the guidance of his father, separated from the influence of his mother and the settled community in which he had spent his childhood. It was also, unknowingly, a final farewell.
Ben Hall never saw his mother again.
Eliza Hall remained in the Upper Hunter, where she gave birth to her youngest child, Ellen. She lived until 1869, surviving both her estranged husband and the bushranging career of the son who had left with him more than twenty years earlier. By the time of her death, Ben Hall himself had been dead for four years, killed beside Billabong Creek on 5 May 1865.
The family's division in 1845 therefore became far more than a temporary separation. It marked the point at which Ben Hall's upbringing diverged permanently from that of the siblings who remained with their mother. From then onward, his formative years would be spent in the Lachlan under the influence of Benjamin Hall senior—a man already living beyond the reach of the law and immersed in the rough pastoral frontier that would ultimately shape his son's destiny.
Note: An admonition, where the accused is found guilty but is neither imprisoned nor fined. They receive a verbal warning, and the conviction would be made part of the record. The link below is the 1846 newspaper account of the court proceedings of William's trial at Maitland Court.
MAITLAND CIRCUIT COURT
The Maitland Mercury and Hunter River General Advertiser
Wednesday 18th March 1846
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| Benjamin Hall arrested 30th October 1848 at Hamilton's station. Courtesy NLA. |
The Halls did not travel empty-handed. They drove a modest herd of livestock south with them, intending that the animals should provide both capital and a means of establishing themselves in their new surroundings. Their route first took them approximately seventy miles to Singleton, passing Castle Forbes before continuing through Whittingham, Jerry's Plains and Cassilis, then westward through the interior towards Dubbo and ultimately the Lachlan. Their destination was the country around what would later become Forbes, then still known as Black Ridge.
The journey itself would have been an education for the thirteen-year-old Hall. Moving stock hundreds of miles through largely unsettled country demanded endurance, horsemanship and an ability to find grass and water along the route. By the time the family reached the Lachlan, Ben was already experienced in handling horses and cattle, but the years that followed would transform him into an exceptional stockman.
The journey itself would have been an education for the thirteen-year-old Hall. Moving stock hundreds of miles through largely unsettled country demanded endurance, horsemanship and an ability to find grass and water along the route. By the time the family reached the Lachlan, Ben was already experienced in handling horses and cattle, but the years that followed would transform him into an exceptional stockman.
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| Hugh Hamilton's leases. Squatting Licences, 1848. |
The Hall boys found employment with pastoralist Hugh Hamilton, an acquaintance of their father who had already known Benjamin Hall senior during his years as a fugitive between 1846 and 1848. During that period Hall senior had lived in the Lachlan under an assumed name—variously recorded as Jack Binding or Bradshaw—while avoiding the authorities at Murrurundi. His eventual arrest by Mounted Police Constable Hoy in October 1848 apparently did little to disturb his relationship with Hamilton. Whatever reservations others may have held about the Hall family's reputation, Hamilton was prepared to employ the boys upon their ability.
Ben came under the supervision of Hamilton's head stockman, William Jones. Working cattle across the Lachlan country provided a demanding apprenticeship. Stockmen were required to muster across immense unfenced runs, control difficult cattle and horses, negotiate rivers and scrub, and remain in the saddle for long periods far from the homestead. Hall excelled at the work.
Another of Hamilton's stockmen was James Newell, who became an important friend of the young Hall. Through Newell, Ben was introduced to Daniel Charters, Newell's brother-in-law. Newell had married Charters' sister Agnes in 1850, bringing the families into close association.
The friendship between Hall and Charters would prove particularly consequential.
At this stage there was nothing inherently criminal about their association. They were young men moving within the interconnected world of stockmen, small settlers and pastoral workers of the Lachlan. Yet little more than a decade later Charters would ride with Hall in the Eugowra gold escort robbery and then turn approver, providing evidence against his former companions. The friendship established during Hall's adolescence would therefore eventually become entwined with both his rise into bushranging and the prosecution of those involved in its most spectacular crime.
The Newell family themselves became well established in the district, living for a period at Tommanbil and later becoming associated with several local businesses, including a hotel at Bandon near Eugowra. The relationship between the families appears to have endured. In August 1865, only three months after Hall's death, Agnes Newell gave birth to a son whom the family named Benjamin.
Hall's apprenticeship under William Jones also produced another enduring friendship.
Jones' career as head stockman came to an abrupt end during a muster in the vicinity of Tom Speck's property at The Gap. His horse fell heavily, breaking his thigh and leaving him stranded and badly injured. He remained alone for some time before a party of stockmen found him. Among those involved in assisting the injured man were Ben Hall and Cornelius O'Donnell.
The injury was severe. Jones' leg was roughly set before he could be transported to Bathurst, and his recovery was prolonged. He was eventually left with a pronounced limp that earned him the enduring nickname "Hoppy" Jones.
Many years later the Forbes Times recalled the accident:
Ben came under the supervision of Hamilton's head stockman, William Jones. Working cattle across the Lachlan country provided a demanding apprenticeship. Stockmen were required to muster across immense unfenced runs, control difficult cattle and horses, negotiate rivers and scrub, and remain in the saddle for long periods far from the homestead. Hall excelled at the work.
Another of Hamilton's stockmen was James Newell, who became an important friend of the young Hall. Through Newell, Ben was introduced to Daniel Charters, Newell's brother-in-law. Newell had married Charters' sister Agnes in 1850, bringing the families into close association.
The friendship between Hall and Charters would prove particularly consequential.
At this stage there was nothing inherently criminal about their association. They were young men moving within the interconnected world of stockmen, small settlers and pastoral workers of the Lachlan. Yet little more than a decade later Charters would ride with Hall in the Eugowra gold escort robbery and then turn approver, providing evidence against his former companions. The friendship established during Hall's adolescence would therefore eventually become entwined with both his rise into bushranging and the prosecution of those involved in its most spectacular crime.
The Newell family themselves became well established in the district, living for a period at Tommanbil and later becoming associated with several local businesses, including a hotel at Bandon near Eugowra. The relationship between the families appears to have endured. In August 1865, only three months after Hall's death, Agnes Newell gave birth to a son whom the family named Benjamin.
Hall's apprenticeship under William Jones also produced another enduring friendship.
Jones' career as head stockman came to an abrupt end during a muster in the vicinity of Tom Speck's property at The Gap. His horse fell heavily, breaking his thigh and leaving him stranded and badly injured. He remained alone for some time before a party of stockmen found him. Among those involved in assisting the injured man were Ben Hall and Cornelius O'Donnell.
The injury was severe. Jones' leg was roughly set before he could be transported to Bathurst, and his recovery was prolonged. He was eventually left with a pronounced limp that earned him the enduring nickname "Hoppy" Jones.
Many years later the Forbes Times recalled the accident:
"Jones was out mustering in the vicinity of Speck's Gap when his horse fell, breaking the rider's thigh. He lay there alone for a considerable time before being discovered... One of his assistants was a young man named Benjamin Hall."
Unable, or perhaps unwilling, to return permanently to the demanding life of a stockman, Jones eventually entered the hotel trade. At Bathurst he became publican of the Lachlan Inn, situated at the corner of Seymour and Lambert Streets, near what is now Centennial Park.
His association with Hall did not end with their years on Hamilton's run.
As a young married man, Ben and his wife continued to patronise his former supervisor. A later account remembered that "Benjamin Hall and his wife patronised his old Boyd friend for about twelve months" during the happier period before Hall's life began to unravel.
The relationship survived even Hall's descent into bushranging. In March 1865, during the final weeks of his life, Hall robbed Jones' store at Forbes. The episode presents one of the strange contradictions characteristic of Hall's later career: the former stockman, now hunted across the colony, confronting a man who had known him as a thirteen-year-old boy learning the pastoral trade. Hall would be dead only thirty-five days later.
The years spent working for Hugh Hamilton were therefore among the most formative of Ben Hall's life. Here he developed the extraordinary horsemanship for which he later became famous, learned the geography and rhythms of the Lachlan pastoral country, and formed relationships with men whose names would repeatedly intersect with his own.
Some, like William "Hoppy" Jones, remained friends.
Others, like Daniel Charters, would eventually become accomplices—and then witnesses against the gang.
At thirteen, however, none of that lay before him. Ben Hall had arrived in the Lachlan not as a bushranger but as a stockman's son looking for work. By every surviving indication, he was exceptionally well suited to it.
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| (1813-1888) |
Hall appears to have distinguished himself particularly through his understanding of livestock. His ability was not confined to exceptional horsemanship; contemporary recollections suggest that he possessed the stockman's instinctive ability to read the movement and temperament of animals. One later account associated him with the introduction of improved cattle into the district:
"The first man to bring pedigreed Short-horn cattle to the district. The man in charge of the cattle was Ben Hall; after bringing out Mr Hamilton's cattle, Hall was for years on the station as a stockman."
The responsibility is significant. Pedigreed Shorthorns represented valuable breeding stock, and entrusting their movement to Hall suggests that, despite his youth, Hamilton regarded him as a capable and dependable stockman. It also places Hall within the changing pastoral economy of the Lachlan, as graziers sought to improve the quality of their herds rather than relying solely upon the rougher cattle that had characterised the earlier frontier.
Hamilton's various holdings lay within roughly twenty-five miles of the emerging settlement at Black Ridge, later Forbes. For the teenage Hall, these years provided an intimate knowledge of the country that would become the centre of his adult life. The stations, stock routes, watercourses and ranges through which he worked as a young stockman were the same landscapes through which he would later move with remarkable confidence while pursued by police.
The Hall family itself was meanwhile beginning to establish new connections in the district. Ben's elder sister Mary married William Wright, a local stockman and former convict considerably older than herself. Through such marriages and working relationships, the Halls became increasingly embedded within the pastoral community of the Lachlan.
By the end of 1851 Benjamin Hall senior could see that his sons were capable of supporting themselves. They had found steady employment, developed valuable pastoral skills and established connections among local station owners and stockmen. His immediate purpose in bringing them to the Lachlan had therefore largely been accomplished.
Hall senior consequently decided to return to Murrurundi and rejoin Eliza and the children who had remained behind—Edward, Catherine, Robert, Henry and the youngest, Ellen.
For young Ben, the decision represented another significant separation. His father, who had brought him hundreds of miles from the Upper Hunter and introduced him to life on the Lachlan, now departed. Ben remained behind.
Still only fourteen years old, he was effectively beginning an independent working life.
The transition is important in understanding the man he later became. Hall was not raised into adulthood under close parental supervision. By his early teens he was earning his living among adult stockmen in an enormous pastoral district, entrusted with valuable animals and accustomed to travelling considerable distances on horseback. The independence, self-reliance and extraordinary familiarity with the Lachlan that later characterised the bushranger had been acquired years earlier through legitimate pastoral work.
At this point in his life, Ben Hall appears to have been succeeding. He had employment, respected ability with horses and cattle, and an expanding network of friends and acquaintances throughout the district. His father's criminal reputation had followed the family south, but there was as yet little indication that the fourteen-year-old stockman would eventually acquire a far greater notoriety of his own.
Author's Note: Over time, there has been speculation that the Hall family relocated in 1850 and moved to the Lachlan. The birth of Ben Hall's youngest sister, Ellen, was registered during their journey south at the Whittingham Post Office, located at the junction of the old New England Highway and Bulga Trail (Putty Road). However, it was Ellen's father who was responsible for registering her birth, as per the law. It seems he did so at the first opportunity when passing through Whittingham with the four children, which may have led to the misconception that Ellen was born there or that the Halls ever settled in the Lachlan district as a family. The birth record reads: "Ellen E Hall: Birth Date: 1850 Birth Place: New South Wales Registration Year: 1850 Registration Place: Whittingham, New South Wales, Australia Father: Benjamin Hall Mother: Elizabeth- Volume Number: V18501899 71". My ongoing research suggests that it would have taken a significant force, akin to dynamite, to move Eliza Hall from her comfortable home at Murrurundi, as hinted at in the 1854 advertisement and dispute over their home, which will be discussed further on Hall's page.
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| 15th April 1843, Pages River Racing. Courtesy NLA. |
Having secured employment with Hugh Hamilton, Ben and his brothers began working under the direction of the head stockman, William Jones. For Ben, still only thirteen, it was the beginning of an apprenticeship in the demanding world of pastoral work. He quickly demonstrated that he possessed more than simply the ability to stay in the saddle. Hall developed a keen understanding of the behaviour of cattle and horses and an instinctive ability to judge livestock—qualities that would make him a valued stockman throughout the Lachlan.
His affinity with horses, however, had developed long before his arrival there.
Horse racing had been an important feature of Hall's childhood at Murrurundi. His father owned several good horses and participated in the local racing culture that flourished around Haydonton. Racing in these frontier settlements was considerably removed from the formal racecourses of Sydney. Meetings were important social occasions, attracting landholders, stockmen, tradesmen and travellers from across the surrounding district.
The Haydon Family Papers preserve a vivid description of the old Murrurundi course. It began opposite the later school site, ran parallel with Mayne Street towards the vicinity of the Royal Hotel, then turned north across Little Street before circling back towards the starting point. Meetings were held frequently and attracted large fields, with races commonly decided through a series of heats.
Among the horses remembered from these early meetings were Dr Welsh's Death, Mr Butt's Snake, W. Wightman's Cannonball, Henry O'Neil's Wallaby, and horses belonging to the prominent Dangar and Single families. Benjamin Hall senior also entered his own horses, including Jacky Jacky and Roderick.
For young Ben, horses were therefore much more than working animals. From childhood he had watched them bred, trained, compared and raced. He learned to appreciate the qualities that distinguished an ordinary stock horse from an exceptional animal: conformation, stamina, temperament and speed. The excitement and prestige attached to possessing a fine horse made a lasting impression upon him.
That early fascination matured during his years on the Lachlan. Hall became an accomplished judge of horseflesh and retained a particular admiration for well-bred and fast horses throughout his life. In later years, when his circumstances improved, that interest would develop into ownership and racing of horses of his own. Even during his bushranging career, contemporary accounts repeatedly remarked upon the quality of the mounts associated with Hall and his companions.
His ability with livestock extended equally to cattle. Hall was remembered as quiet and reserved, more inclined to demonstrate his competence than advertise it. During mustering he displayed patience and confidence around difficult stock and developed the practical knowledge expected of an experienced cattleman. He could assess the condition of an animal at a glance and determine its approximate age by examining its teeth—an essential skill when buying, selling or sorting cattle on large pastoral runs.
Such abilities were particularly valuable in the unfenced country of the Lachlan, where cattle could scatter across enormous distances and mustering demanded both endurance and judgement. A good stockman needed to anticipate how a mob would react before it moved, recognise when an animal was likely to break away and know when pressure should be applied or relaxed. Hall appears to have possessed these instincts naturally.
His later reputation as one of the finest horsemen in the colony was therefore not created during his years as a bushranger. It was the product of a lifetime spent around horses: first as the son of a butcher, grazier and racing enthusiast at Murrurundi, and then as a teenage stockman learning his trade across the stations of the Lachlan.
Long before the police came to fear Ben Hall's ability to disappear across the countryside on horseback, pastoralists valued precisely the same skills.
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| Ernest & Adelaide |
By the time Ben Hall reached adulthood, his abilities as a stockman were well known throughout the Lachlan. His work brought him regularly into contact with the district's squatters, station managers and stockmen, and later recollections consistently describe a young man whose reputation bore little resemblance to that of the outlaw he would eventually become.
Among those who knew him was Ernest Bowler, a prominent Lachlan squatter who frequently encountered Hall during mustering. Bowler remembered him as an exceptionally capable bushman whose services were welcomed whenever cattle or wild horses had to be gathered.
In Frederick Howard's The Moleskin Gentry, Bowler recalled:
"Ben Hall had a cattle station at Wheogo, and he used to attend all the musters round. He was one of the smart, devil-may-care bushmen, knew the whole country well, always had a good horse and knew how to ride. He was a good mate at mustering cattle or running wild horses."
Bowler particularly remembered Hall's extraordinary ability to identify livestock. During a large muster, cattle belonging to numerous owners might be brought together and held overnight before being separated according to their brands. Cows and calves inevitably became mixed among the mob, presenting stockmen with the difficult task of matching them again.
Hall possessed the ability known as "mothering" calves. Bowler claimed that after a day's muster Hall could identify which calf belonged to which cow even when animals carrying a hundred different brands had been gathered together.
It was a remarkable demonstration of visual memory and practical knowledge. Such a skill required hours of close observation and an ability to recognise subtle differences between individual animals. It helps explain why Hall's services were repeatedly sought by pastoralists throughout the district.
Bowler also remembered Hall personally.
Several years before Hall became a bushranger, Ernest was travelling by dog cart with his visiting sister Adelaide when they encountered Hall driving a wagon towards Wheogo. Bowler recognised him and stopped to exchange greetings. After the two men had spoken and continued on their respective journeys, Adelaide remarked:
"What a good-looking man that was."
Her brother replied:
"Yes, and a fine fellow he is, too. He has a place at Wheogo near Grenfell. His name is Ben Hall."
The recollection is valuable precisely because nothing remarkable was happening. Hall was not yet an outlaw and Bowler had no reason to romanticise an encounter with a notorious bushranger. He was simply a neighbouring grazier and stockman whom Bowler regarded as competent and respectable.
Other residents remembered him similarly.
Elizabeth Farrand, later Ernest Bowler's wife, arrived in Forbes with her family in 1857. Her father, William Farrand, became a prominent local magistrate and was associated with the Lachlan Observer. Elizabeth's later relationship with Hall's memory was considerably more complicated than Ernest's.
As a girl she encountered Hall under very different circumstances during his bushranging years. At Yamma Station she and others were detained by Hall's gang, while her father was threatened with a flogging. Yet despite the frightening circumstances of that encounter, Elizabeth's recollections of Hall remained surprisingly favourable. In later life she repeatedly referred to him as "the good-looking young man" and remembered his earlier reputation in the district with evident interest.
Her description of the young stockman closely corresponded with that of her future husband:
"Mrs. Bowler describes him as being a well-built, good looking young man with a pleasant disposition which gained him the friendship of all with whom he came in contact. A splendid rider and a good stockman, his services were frequently in demand."
These recollections should not be mistaken for evidence that Hall possessed an uniformly gentle character. They were recorded many years after the events, when the mythology surrounding the bushranger was already well established. Nevertheless, their consistency with accounts from people who knew Hall before his outlawry makes them significant.
A somewhat different portrait emerged from other old residents.
When the Freeman's Journal published reminiscences of the bushranging era in 1930, Hall was remembered as possessing "a certain detachment and shyness." The description suggests that the easy confidence displayed on horseback did not necessarily extend to every aspect of his personality. He could apparently be reserved and self-contained, qualities that accord with other recollections of a man who tended to demonstrate his abilities rather than advertise them.
Thomas Bates, remembering Hall many decades later, provided another dimension. He recalled that Ben "could spin a good yarn and sing a song in the rough, boisterous fashion of the day." The shy stockman was therefore not socially withdrawn. Among people he knew, he could participate readily in the convivial culture of the pastoral frontier.
Taken together, these recollections provide a surprisingly coherent picture.
Hall was remembered as physically attractive, exceptionally capable on horseback, observant with livestock and confident in the bush. He could be quiet and somewhat detached, yet among companions he was capable of humour, storytelling and song. Most importantly, he appears to have enjoyed a broad circle of acquaintances extending across an enormous area of the Central West.
Among those who knew him was Ernest Bowler, a prominent Lachlan squatter who frequently encountered Hall during mustering. Bowler remembered him as an exceptionally capable bushman whose services were welcomed whenever cattle or wild horses had to be gathered.
In Frederick Howard's The Moleskin Gentry, Bowler recalled:
"Ben Hall had a cattle station at Wheogo, and he used to attend all the musters round. He was one of the smart, devil-may-care bushmen, knew the whole country well, always had a good horse and knew how to ride. He was a good mate at mustering cattle or running wild horses."
Bowler particularly remembered Hall's extraordinary ability to identify livestock. During a large muster, cattle belonging to numerous owners might be brought together and held overnight before being separated according to their brands. Cows and calves inevitably became mixed among the mob, presenting stockmen with the difficult task of matching them again.
Hall possessed the ability known as "mothering" calves. Bowler claimed that after a day's muster Hall could identify which calf belonged to which cow even when animals carrying a hundred different brands had been gathered together.
It was a remarkable demonstration of visual memory and practical knowledge. Such a skill required hours of close observation and an ability to recognise subtle differences between individual animals. It helps explain why Hall's services were repeatedly sought by pastoralists throughout the district.
Bowler also remembered Hall personally.
Several years before Hall became a bushranger, Ernest was travelling by dog cart with his visiting sister Adelaide when they encountered Hall driving a wagon towards Wheogo. Bowler recognised him and stopped to exchange greetings. After the two men had spoken and continued on their respective journeys, Adelaide remarked:
"What a good-looking man that was."
Her brother replied:
"Yes, and a fine fellow he is, too. He has a place at Wheogo near Grenfell. His name is Ben Hall."
The recollection is valuable precisely because nothing remarkable was happening. Hall was not yet an outlaw and Bowler had no reason to romanticise an encounter with a notorious bushranger. He was simply a neighbouring grazier and stockman whom Bowler regarded as competent and respectable.
Other residents remembered him similarly.
Elizabeth Farrand, later Ernest Bowler's wife, arrived in Forbes with her family in 1857. Her father, William Farrand, became a prominent local magistrate and was associated with the Lachlan Observer. Elizabeth's later relationship with Hall's memory was considerably more complicated than Ernest's.
As a girl she encountered Hall under very different circumstances during his bushranging years. At Yamma Station she and others were detained by Hall's gang, while her father was threatened with a flogging. Yet despite the frightening circumstances of that encounter, Elizabeth's recollections of Hall remained surprisingly favourable. In later life she repeatedly referred to him as "the good-looking young man" and remembered his earlier reputation in the district with evident interest.
Her description of the young stockman closely corresponded with that of her future husband:
"Mrs. Bowler describes him as being a well-built, good looking young man with a pleasant disposition which gained him the friendship of all with whom he came in contact. A splendid rider and a good stockman, his services were frequently in demand."
These recollections should not be mistaken for evidence that Hall possessed an uniformly gentle character. They were recorded many years after the events, when the mythology surrounding the bushranger was already well established. Nevertheless, their consistency with accounts from people who knew Hall before his outlawry makes them significant.
A somewhat different portrait emerged from other old residents.
When the Freeman's Journal published reminiscences of the bushranging era in 1930, Hall was remembered as possessing "a certain detachment and shyness." The description suggests that the easy confidence displayed on horseback did not necessarily extend to every aspect of his personality. He could apparently be reserved and self-contained, qualities that accord with other recollections of a man who tended to demonstrate his abilities rather than advertise them.
Thomas Bates, remembering Hall many decades later, provided another dimension. He recalled that Ben "could spin a good yarn and sing a song in the rough, boisterous fashion of the day." The shy stockman was therefore not socially withdrawn. Among people he knew, he could participate readily in the convivial culture of the pastoral frontier.
Taken together, these recollections provide a surprisingly coherent picture.
Hall was remembered as physically attractive, exceptionally capable on horseback, observant with livestock and confident in the bush. He could be quiet and somewhat detached, yet among companions he was capable of humour, storytelling and song. Most importantly, he appears to have enjoyed a broad circle of acquaintances extending across an enormous area of the Central West.
Hall's growing reputation was not based upon horsemanship alone. Those who remembered him before his descent into bushranging repeatedly described a young man regarded as dependable and generous within the small pastoral community. One later account credited him with:
"An amiable sincerity of soul, a generosity of spirit, and an honesty in all his dealings with his fellow-settlers that won their friendliest esteem. He was steady, industrious, temperate, keenly intelligent, and, above all, always ready to give a helping hand to a neighbour."
"An amiable sincerity of soul, a generosity of spirit, and an honesty in all his dealings with his fellow-settlers that won their friendliest esteem. He was steady, industrious, temperate, keenly intelligent, and, above all, always ready to give a helping hand to a neighbour."
Such retrospective descriptions must inevitably be treated with some caution, particularly after Hall's transformation into a legendary figure. Nevertheless, they accord with other recollections of his early life. Before the events that made his name notorious, Hall appears to have been regarded throughout the Lachlan as an industrious and capable young stockman with considerable prospects.
Hugh Hamilton evidently recognised those qualities.
Jack Bradshaw, writing many decades later in Frank Gardiner, Ben Hall & Gang, claimed that Hamilton became particularly fond of the young man after recognising his exceptional ability with stock. Bradshaw's account relied substantially upon information supplied by Hall's elder brother William and therefore provides an important family recollection, although one recorded long after the events.
According to Bradshaw:
"Mr Hamilton grew very fond of young Ben, finding out he possessed great ability as a stockman. Mr Hamilton gave Ben permission to graze horses and cattle on his station, which young Ben did, and purchased out of his salary in about three years a small station. He became full manager for Mr Hamilton. The seasons were good and the grass plentiful, so that young Ben became fairly rich."
The precise chronology of Hall's advancement is difficult to establish, but the broader picture is consistent with what is known of his early adulthood. Hall was earning wages while still in his teens, investing in livestock of his own and taking advantage of access to grazing country. Rather than drifting towards criminality, he appears during these years to have been moving steadily towards independence as a small pastoralist.
Life as a stockman was nevertheless demanding. Hall's duties would have included mustering, droving, branding and castrating cattle, breaking horses and protecting livestock from dingoes and other threats. Days commonly began around sunrise and continued until the work was completed, often well into the evening.
The ordinary rhythm of station life was punctuated by the great musters.
Several times each year men converged upon the principal stations from distant parts of the runs. Stockmen from neighbouring properties often joined them, and temporary yards were erected to handle the enormous mobs assembled from the surrounding country. The work meant long hours in the saddle, days spent away from the homestead and nights sleeping beneath the stars in blankets and swags.
For young men such as Hall, however, the muster was more than work. It was also an arena in which horsemanship, courage and reputation were tested before one's peers.
Few activities demonstrated those qualities more dramatically than running the wild horses known as warrigals.
Large mobs roamed the western stations, sometimes becoming serious pests by competing with domestic stock for pasture. At other times valuable broken horses escaped and joined them. Capturing a mob required riders capable of pursuing horses at speed through scrub and broken country, maintaining their bearings while anticipating how the mob would turn.
A retrospective account published by the Sydney Morning Herald in 1914 described the qualities demanded of such men. The successful stockman was an "active, game fellow" and "a first-class horseman," possessing what contemporaries called the "bump of locality"—an exceptional instinct for direction that enabled him to negotiate complicated bush country without becoming lost.
Hall possessed precisely those qualities.
Running warrigals could involve miles of hard riding. Stockmen sometimes used quiet horses as "trailers" to draw the wild mob towards yards, while a stallion could prove especially useful in holding the horses together. Once the chase began, however, success depended upon courage, judgement and exceptional riding.
There was also money to be made.
Ray Saint Smith later recalled that captured wild horses, once broken and brought under control, could command prices of £15 to £20 each—a substantial return beyond the ordinary wages of a station hand. For young stockmen, the chase therefore combined sport, prestige and financial opportunity.
Hall excelled in this environment. His easy manner and exceptional riding made him a conspicuous figure during the great musters, while his ability to negotiate difficult country at speed became part of his reputation. The same skills that later allowed him to elude mounted police had been developed years earlier in legitimate competition with cattle and wild horses.
The dangers were equally real.
In about 1853, when Hall was approximately sixteen years old, he suffered a serious accident while attempting to handle a spirited horse named Slasher, remembered as a racehorse on the local bush circuits. The horse suddenly lashed out, catching Hall and throwing him heavily. His leg was badly fractured.
The injury was severe enough to leave a permanent mark. Although Hall recovered sufficiently to resume the demanding life of a stockman and remained an outstanding horseman, he was thereafter said to carry a noticeable limp.
An account of the accident was later supplied by John Maguire, who would become Hall's brother-in-law, and preserved by P. H. Pinkstone in The Biography of a Reliable Old Native. Pinkstone compiled the work from a series of interviews and conversations with Maguire in the early twentieth century, giving the episode particular value as the recollection of a man closely connected with Hall and the district, although recorded more than half a century after the event.
The accident did little to diminish Hall's enthusiasm for horses. If anything, his subsequent life demonstrates the opposite. Racing, breeding, breaking and judging horses remained among his strongest interests. Good horses represented livelihood, status and freedom in the pastoral society in which he had grown to adulthood.
By his late teens, therefore, Hall's prospects appeared remarkably favourable. He was an accomplished stockman, an exceptional rider, increasingly trusted with responsibility and beginning to accumulate livestock of his own. He was well known across the district and remembered as industrious, temperate and willing to assist his neighbours.
Nothing about this period suggests a young man inevitably progressing towards bushranging.
On the contrary, the surviving recollections portray someone moving successfully in the opposite direction—from teenage station hand towards independent pastoralist. Understanding that success is essential to understanding the tragedy of what followed. Ben Hall did not become notorious because respectable colonial society had never offered him a place within it.
For a time, he had already made one.
Following the accident, the severely injured young stockman was transported by wagon to the nearby Bundaburra station, where Mrs. Mary Strickland tended to his fractured leg with the assistance of her brother, Tom Higgins. Higgins, the owner of the Forbes Dog and Duck Hotel, was a steadfast ally and close friend of Ben Hall. His doctoring in Hall’s recovery proved invaluable. In his memoirs, John Maguire noted that Higgins was one of the few people who would stand by Hall throughout his bushranging outbreak, ensuring he received support while on the road. Tom Higgins was also well acquainted with Frank Gardiner and was a respected horse trainer in the district.
Tom Higgins who had a reputation as a bush surgeon, set the fracture, making a good job of it. In nine or ten weeks Ben was able to get about on crutches, and after that was as lively as ever.
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| Mary Coneley nee Strickland c. 1862. |
During his recuperation, Ben Hall developed an affectionate bond with Mary Strickland, the niece of Mary Strickland. She played a key role in nursing the young stockman back to health, and it is believed that they shared a strong connection—perhaps even a romance. However, when Hall began courting Bridget Walsh, Mary was reportedly devastated.
Mary later married Michael Coneley, a stockman from Bundaburra, who would later betray Ben Hall. The Strickland family is said to have disapproved of the marriage, viewing Coneley as merely an employee. While some sources claim Coneley passed away in 1895, this remains unverified, as no official death records for a Michael Coneley have been found.
Note: Peter Bradley, in his investigative book The Judas Covenant, identifies Coneley as the correct spelling of his surname, though various alternative spellings exist, including Connelly, Conley, and Conerly. Some records suggest that Coneley may have died in Petersham, Sydney, in 1910, according to Ancestry records.
Long after Ben Hall’s demise, his grave was reportedly tended to with great care for decades. On August 5, 1911, The Wingham Chronicle and Manning River Observer speculated that a local woman had maintained it.
In
the Forbes cemetery, today rest the mortal remains of Ben Hall, and the
mound which covers his dust is still tenderly cared for by a female
hand—one who, though long years have drifted by since Hall's unfortunate
body was riddled with policemen's bullets, still cherishes a kindly
regard for a man who, but for a certain set of circumstances, might have
earned renown in a different walk of life.
While some believe this caretaker may have been Mary Strickland, who passed away in 1913 at her children’s home in Redfern, others suggest it may have been Anne Hall, Hall’s sister-in-law, who is known to have travelled from Parkes. Alternatively, the identity of the woman who cared for Hall’s grave may forever remain unknown, lost to time but bound by a lingering affection for the fallen bushranger.
Furthermore, on the day of Ben Hall’s death, a heartbroken Mary is said to have cut a lock of his hair as a keepsake. As his bloodied body lay beneath a coat, strapped to a horse near her home at Billabong Creek, she took this final memento—perhaps as a symbol of the deep bond they once shared.
Like many women living on remote properties, Mary was an accomplished horsewoman. In her younger years, she frequently competed in race meetings at Forbes, where substantial bets were often placed on her races. Her skill in the saddle was well known, further cementing her reputation in a community where horsemanship was a mark of both status and survival.
'The Forbes Advocate' Friday 23 September 1921:Mrs Newell, whose husband, John Newell, kept the Western Hotel, which stood on the site now occupied by the Metropolitan Hotel. Dora was ridden by Miss Strickland, daughter of Mr Pearce Strickland. There was always great rivalry between those two well-known horse-women, and the match caused much excitement and considerable wagering. After a desperate race, Virginia won.
Note: John Newell is not related to James Newell, who married Agnes Charters.
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| Mary Strickland nee Higgins. c. 1890's |
The death of Mrs M. A. Strickland, which occurred at Bundaburra Station, Forbes, during the week, has removed one of the real Lachlan pioneers, the deceased lady was 93 years of age, on one occasion Ben Hall was severely kicked by a horse he was breaking in, and Mrs Strickland set the broken leg and nursed Ben back to health. He never forgot Mrs Strickland's kindness, and it is on record that he refused to allow his gang to raid Bundaburra. On several occasions, when hard pressed, his lawless band took valuable horses from the station, but they were always returned within a month or so.
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| Daniel Charters. This photo was most probably taken at Mrs Reed’s photographic gallery Forbes in 1862, on the same day as the Ben Hall portrait. Penzig. |
Daniel Charters played a key role in managing his sister Agnes Newell’s Daroubalgie Station outside Forbes, as well as another property at Bandon, which also housed a hotel. He was additionally involved with Pinnacle Station, a large farm owned by his recently widowed sister, Margaret Feehily, where another hotel was in operation. The Pinnacle was located just twelve miles from Hall’s future cattle station at Sandy Creek.
Described as a tall, stoutly built man with a fresh complexion, light brown hair, and blue eyes, Charters was literate—an asset that proved valuable to his friend Ben Hall, who remained illiterate. Both men shared a reputation for being affable, expert riders, and skilled bushmen. Charters later recalled in 1863, "I have known Ben Hall for six or seven years. I used to visit him when I was gathering cattle for myself and my sister."
While Charters was well known for his charm and reputation as a ladies' man, Hall was more reserved and less confident around women. In 1863, during the trial of John Maguire for the Eugowra gold escort robbery, rumors circulated that Charters had been romantically involved with Ellen Maguire, John’s wife and the sister of Ben Hall’s wife, Bridget. That same year, during Maguire’s trial, Charters also faced a paternity suit filed by Miss Charlotte Brandon. He was declared the father of her son, though tragically, the child passed away within a year.
While Charters managed cattle across several properties near Forbes, he frequently grazed his livestock on Hall’s newly acquired Sandy Creek Station between 1860 and 1862, which bordered Pinnacle Station. With no fencing, cattle from both properties often intermixed and were sorted during mustering periods.
Charters was a substantial stock owner, possessing around 500 head of cattle valued at over £5,000—a significant sum for the time. In 1863, he openly discussed his financial standing, reinforcing his status as a prominent grazier in the region.
Daniel Charters evidence February 1863 Escort Robbery Trials.
"My business is that of a stockowner, looking after my own and my sister's cattle. I have never been employed as stock-keeper by any one, and have never in my life received wages from any person. My sister's station at the Pinnacle is a large one. She has a good many people employed there, and has about 2000 head of cattle. I have about 500 or 600 head of my own."
Marriage; "a pert and lively woman"
In 1855, after spending four years working for Hugh Hamilton, Ben Hall made a significant change in his life. He left his position and took up a new role as a stockman at Weeogo Station (also known as Uoka), a 16,000-acre property owned by John Walsh, an emancipated convict. However, this move was motivated by more than just career advancement—it was also driven by matters of the heart.
In 1855, after spending four years working for Hugh Hamilton, Ben Hall made a significant change in his life. He left his position and took up a new role as a stockman at Weeogo Station (also known as Uoka), a 16,000-acre property owned by John Walsh, an emancipated convict. However, this move was motivated by more than just career advancement—it was also driven by matters of the heart.
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St Michael's Catholic
Church, Bathurst.
c. 1850's. |
His time at Weeogo Station not only gave Hall newfound independence and professional growth but also deepened his relationship with Bridget. Their blossoming romance ultimately led to marriage, marking a major milestone in his life. After years of hard work under various station owners, Weeogo offered Hall a real opportunity for independence and the dream of one day owning his own station.
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| The very same Alter at St Michael's Catholic Church, Bathurst where Ben and Biddy exchanged their vows in 1856. My Photo. |
Decades later, in February 1917, the Grenfell Record and Lachlan District Advertiser published a nostalgic account from a pioneer who fondly recalled the joyful day when Ben and Bridget journeyed to be married, a moment that would shape the course of Hall’s life in ways he could never have foreseen.
I saw Ben Hall and his Bridget Walsh when they were going to Burrowa, or Yass, to get married. I think it was about the year 1857, or it might have been 1856. They stayed at our house on their return trip. They were both, young — Ben about 20 years of age, and I think she was under 20. I fancy I see her slender, little white fingers peeling, with a sharp knife, apples for us youngsters.
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| John Walsh's Uoka (Weeoga) Station, registered under The Squatters Act-1846-47. Note; John Tait's station Oma. |
In the later fifties 'Hoppy's assistant from Wheogo brought a fair damsel, to invoke the aid of a man in holy orders in joining the bond that no man should put asunder, and the Lachlan Inn sheltered the newly wedded couple during their visit to Bathurst. Their friends wished them heal and happiness on their departure for Sandy Creek, a small station which he had stocked with cattle and horses, and where he settled down as a squatter.
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| The Charters' former home, now Fern Hill. c. 1970's. Reputed birthplace of Henry Hall. Courtesy, Carcoar Historical Society. |
Three years into their marriage, Ben and Bridget Hall welcomed their only child, a son named Henry, on 7th August 1859. He was born at the home of Ben Hall’s friend, Daniel Charters’ mother, in Carcoar. There was later speculation that the couple may have had another child before Henry—one who either passed away, was stillborn, or resulted from a miscarriage. John Maguire later noted in his account, "There had been two children, but the first had died." This tragedy may have been an early sign of trouble in the marriage.
Despite becoming a father, Ben Hall was known to associate with some of the more dubious figures in a district notorious for its shady residents. His close ties with Daniel Charters, in particular, would soon draw legal attention to both men.
In late 1859, Hall and Charters were summoned to appear at the Burrowa Court over an unsettled loan concerning a horse Charters had borrowed. The complaint was filed by John Healy, a known troublemaker and acquaintance of both men. Although Hall was called as a witness in Charters’ defense, he ultimately did not have to testify. To further shield Hall from any legal repercussions, Charters explicitly stated in court that Ben had no involvement in the matter, despite having been present when the horse was acquired.
"I was brought up with Ben Hall at the court at Burrowa; I was not brought up there on any charge; I was summoned there about a horse; I had a horse from a man on trial, and he summoned me for payment for the use of it; I swear it was no charge of criminality at all; it is about two years and a half years ago; Ben Hall was present when I borrowed the horse; he was implicated in the matter in no other way, I was summoned by John Healy; the charge was made against me; I was not in custody; I went in and spoke a few words; the verdict was against me, and I paid £2."
Note: John Healy would be sent down to Cockatoo Island for larceny, robbery of a dray with firearms at the O'Meally's Inn at the Weddin Mountains, and sentenced to 15 yrs the first year in Irons in early 1863.
Bridget Hall (Painting by Fiona Craig)
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In 1859, the advertisement above demonstrates that Ben Hall was a person of good standing in the community supporting Law and Order. Note the commitment of some of the Lachlan's most esteemed citizens marked by a #.
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Ben Hall's Marriage Certificate 1856 (above)
Note: Ben Hall signed his name with an "X" (his mark), demonstrating he was illiterate
Bridget also signed her name with an "X"(her mark)
Bridget's sister, Elen, signed her name as a witness, as did John Maguire.
It is interesting how one sister was literate and not the other.
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Henry Hall's (Ben Hall's Son) Birth Certificate 1859 (above)
Note: Again, Hall signed his name with an "X" as his mark further demonstrated his illiteracy. The certificate also names Dr Rowland (1) in attendance during Henry's birth, assisted by Mrs Charters (2).
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Left: Bridget Hall, as portrayed in Fiona Craig’s painting (commissioned by Edgar Penzig, reputedly at the time of her marriage to Ben Hall). The likeness is thought to be derived from a drawing after a later original c. 1919. The image suggest some inaccuracies. Right: Bridget’s granddaughter, Bridget May Costello (1891–1973), daughter of Catherine Costello née Taylor. However, note the strong similarities in eyes, cheekbones, and lips between the two women, both noted for their attractiveness. These comparisons suggest that Bridget Hall can be excluded as the subject of the small locket portrait on the Gallery page, which is more likely to depict Susan Prior. Bridget Hall died in 1923; her granddaughter Bridget May Costello in 1973. Courtesy of a private source. |
Sandy Creek Station; "Estimated to be among the very best runs in the Lachlan district."
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| Ben Hall |
As a young married man, Ben Hall sought to establish a future within the dynamic and expanding society of colonial Australia. He viewed the interior pastoral stations as fertile ground for ambitious individuals, offering opportunities unburdened by rigid social constraints. For those armed with bravery and perseverance, the vast Australian landscape provided a rare chance to escape traditional roles and ascend within the emerging class of landowners—the beau monde and landed gentry of Australia.
This evolving social order was largely shaped by ex-convicts from England, who had overturned long-standing traditions. Once bound by iron chains, these men and women were exiled to a distant land where, upon completing their sentences—ranging from seven years to life—they found unexpected opportunities for wealth and success. Their journey was one of triumph over adversity. Transported across treacherous seas, they endured brutal conditions, but in colonial New South Wales and its surrounds, the vast tracts of cattle and sheep country enabled them to build new lives as pastoralists and entrepreneurs.
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| John Maguire Sandy Creek Station. Gazette, 15th February 1861. |
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NSW Government Gazette
27th March 1860.
Courtesy NLA |
Spanning 16,000 acres, Sandy Creek Station could support up to 640 head of cattle. Though largely uncleared, the land was well-watered, featuring several creeks that added to its value. A contemporary newspaper report praised the potential of Sandy Creek, solidifying its reputation as a promising station in the region. For Hall and Maguire, this lease marked a decisive step toward securing their place in Australia’s burgeoning pastoral economy.
Shortly after his marriage, he, in company with Mr John Maguire, obtained a lease of a run adjoining Wheogo, called Sandy Creek, which they stocked with cattle and horses. Sandy Creek, Wheogo, and Bundaburra are estimated to be among the very best runs in the Lachlan district.¹⁴
There was also a comment regarding Ben Hall's personal standing as a recently established Grazier:
Hall became the owner of Sandy Creek Station, adjoining Wheogo. He had it on lease, running cattle and horses, and managed it in a business-like way, thereby adding further to his reputation as a young man of fine promise.¹⁵
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| Sandy Creek c. 1883. Courtesy David Geelings. |
This week the supply of good, quality was small and prices advanced about 20s per head no improvement for second and inferior qualities which were abundantly supplied. Prime heavy weights, bullocks brought from £9 to £11.- ditto, ordinary weights from £7 to £8 10s second quality ditto from £4 15s to £5 10s; inferior from £2; Prime cows (ordinary weights) from £5 to £6; second quality ditto from £3 to £4 inferior from 35s upwards. FAT CARVES. — Supply small and the demand good best quality from 40s to 50s.
Ben Hall's fortunes received a significant boost when gold was discovered in the town of Young, leading to a rapid increase in his wealth as beef prices surged due to the gold rush. Before his venture at Sandy Creek Station, Ben Hall lived at Wheogo homestead with his wife Bridget and their young son Henry. This property, adjacent to Hall's land, came under the ownership of Bridget's stepmother, Sarah, after the passing of Bridget’s father in 1858.
Note: Sarah Walsh nee Harpur nee Chidley was the mother of well-known Poet Charles Harpur and Josiah J Harpur, NSW Parliamentarian and member for Patrick Plains, 1861-1864 and future provocateur to Sir Frederick Pottinger.
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| John Maguire. c. 1880's. |
Cattle duffing, in those early days, it may be remarked, was not considered a criminal offence. If one settler took a beast of a neighbour's, the latter simply bided his time until he found an animal belonging to his predatory fellow settler worthy of appropriation. Under such retaliatory system recourse to law proceedings was avoided, because the sinner and sinned against then came on an equal footing. In the days referred to the holdings of Crown leases were unfenced, nothing but ill-defined lines denoting their boundaries. As a result, there was frequently a general mingling of herds, separations only being effected during the periodical musters.¹⁶
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| Maguire and Hall's Sandy Creek Station still recorded as owners in Bailliere's New South Wales Gazetteer, 1866. Note acreage. |
The establishment of Sandy Creek Station and the transition from Wheogo Homestead suggest that land clearing and construction began around 1858–1859, preceding the official lease granted in 1860. During this period, Ben Hall, alongside his older brothers Thomas Wade and William Hall, and his close friend Daniel Charters, worked to build a home for Ben, his wife Bridget, and their infant son Henry. The men likely also assisted John Maguire in constructing his residence.
During this time, William Hall and his wife Ann resided with Ben and Bridget at Sandy Creek. While it is unclear whether the cohabitation initially caused tensions, conflicts between William and Bridget did emerge. After Ben’s death, Ann Hall openly blamed Bridget for the tragedy, reportedly stating, “He wouldn’t be lying there if not for his wife’s actions,” hinting at long-standing strains in their relationship.
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| William and Ann Hall. c. 1910. Penzig. |
As a spirited Weddin girl, Bridget may have struggled with domestic life, often taking absences from Sandy Creek for several days at a time, sometimes accompanied by her sister, Catherine “Kitty” Brown. These excursions, initially seen as social visits to neighboring stations, masked an unfolding domestic crisis. Bridget had begun secretly meeting her new romantic interest, James Taylor, while Kitty was engaged in a passionate affair with the notorious bushranger Frank Gardiner—an entanglement that added another layer of intrigue to the turmoil.
During Bridget’s absences, Ann Hall cared for her children, Mary and John, born in 1858 and 1860, respectively, and took on the responsibility of caring for young Henry. This bond between Ann and Henry endured well into adulthood, as he later spent periods living with William and Ann in Parkes, New South Wales, indicating a lasting familial connection despite the fractures that had formed with Bridget during those years at Sandy Creek.
Note: It should also be noted that John Maguire also used the spelling of McGuire with an A, i.e., MaGuire, Maguire as demonstrated on Ben Hall's marriage certificate. However, for the purposes of this bio, I have used Maguire
While Ben Hall was focused on developing Sandy Creek Station, colonial newspapers frequently reported on turmoil within the Hall family in Murrurundi. His father and brothers were repeatedly implicated in various thefts from the late 1850s well into the following century, leading to frequent court appearances and stints in multiple jails.
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| Edward Hall, 1879 prison admission portrait. Courtesy NSW archives. |
Benjamin Hall was charged by Honora Hall with using abusive language towards her. Case dismissed. - Edward Hall was charged with assaulting his father, Benjamin Hall, on the 11th instant. The evidence of the complainant and several witnesses went to shew, that on the day above named Hall senior went to take possession of a bullock, which was also claimed by the defendant. The father and son met in the bed of the river, near the house of the latter, when an altercation arose, which was ended by the son laying his stock-whip pretty smartly across the shoulders of his father. Defendant was ordered to pay a fine of £4 15s., or in default to be imprisoned for two months.
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| John Wilson freehold portion of Sandy Creek. Granted 1868. Courtesy Peter Bradley. |
Author's Note: The exact locations of the homesteads belonging to Ben Hall and John Maguire on Sandy Creek Station have long been debated. In 2013, an exploration of the currently recognised site yielded various artifacts, including fired nails, charcoal, and fragments of bricks from what appeared to be an internal fireplace, as documented in a video I have placed on the site. Nonetheless, new evidence has surfaced casting doubt on the authenticity of this location.
A historical document reveals that in 1868, John Wilson, who purchased Sandy Creek, was awarded 40 acres of freehold land at the southern boundary of the property adjacent Wheogo Station. A title map of this land depicts a hut at a location currently marked as the site of Ben Hall's home, which was destroyed by fire in March 1863. It has long been believed that the residences of Hall and Maguire were situated roughly five hundred yards from each other, although their precise positions relative to the cardinal directions remain unclear.
Further complicating the historical record, in 1909, a man named Mr. Pearse is reported to have dismantled and cleared all structures from the era of Hall and Maguire on the Sandy Creek run. This was highlighted in a publication from 'The Grenfell Record and Lachlan District Advertiser' dated Saturday, 30th January 1909.
Sandy Creek Station is a historical spot, having been the erstwhile property and occasional home of Ben Hall. The present owner, Mr J. S. Pearce, has pulled down all the old buildings and yards so curious and credulous tourists, if any ever penetrate into this part of the bush, can no longer gaze at imaginary bullet holes and speculate how closely the valiant police shot to the bold bushranger's anatomy. In overhauling one of the defunct Mr Hall's humpies, before putting a firestick in it, an ancient pistol and one shilling were raked out of the accumulated debris within. These now form the nucleus of a local buccaneer's museum. The magnificent willow-fringed dam below the hill had water in but was lower than it generally is at this time of the year. Mr Pearse has built a new and roomy house, also stables and shed on the hill near the Pullabooka and Ironbarks road. He has only had the property two years, but in that time has done a lot to improve its condition and is yet busy ringing the country. Out of 2000 acres, there are only some 150 which cannot be ploughed. From a rise beyond the dam by the old diggings hills towards Wyalong are visible in a most varied and extensive landscape.
However, regardless of whose hut was who's the whole of Sandy Creek and adjoining stations Uoka (Wheogo) and Pinnacle and parts further afield are most important to the Ben Hall story.
Although no documented records exist of Ben Hall’s reaction to the legal troubles his father and brothers faced, his life as a young cattleman and horseman changed dramatically with the discovery of gold near Forbes, close to his station.
The allure of this precious metal sparked a global frenzy, drawing fortune seekers from all corners of the world. Entire communities uprooted as thousands rushed to the burgeoning goldfields of New South Wales, particularly Lambing Flat and the newly proclaimed Eldorado of Forbes. Amid this feverish migration, John Maguire, Hall’s brother-in-law and business partner, capitalised on establishing a gold mine at the Pinnacle Range, five miles from his homestead further intertwining their fortunes with the rapidly evolving landscape of the colony.
Gold - The Bushranger
The significant gold discovery at Burrangong in 1860 (later known as Lambing Flat and today as Young) ignited widespread excitement, drawing a flood of prospectors into the Lachlan district. Soon after, another gold discovery and rush transformed the once-sleepy backwater town of Forbes, formerly known as Black Ridge, into a thriving and prosperous gold mining hub.
The dramatic growth of Forbes following the gold discovery was widely reported in contemporary newspapers, with accounts detailing how the influx of fortune seekers rapidly reshaped the settlement into one of the colony’s most important mining centres. A discovery where the enterprising cattlemen soon had an Eldorado at their feet. How beef.
The significant gold discovery at Burrangong in 1860 (later known as Lambing Flat and today as Young) ignited widespread excitement, drawing a flood of prospectors into the Lachlan district. Soon after, another gold discovery and rush transformed the once-sleepy backwater town of Forbes, formerly known as Black Ridge, into a thriving and prosperous gold mining hub.
The dramatic growth of Forbes following the gold discovery was widely reported in contemporary newspapers, with accounts detailing how the influx of fortune seekers rapidly reshaped the settlement into one of the colony’s most important mining centres. A discovery where the enterprising cattlemen soon had an Eldorado at their feet. How beef.
The Forbes Advocate Friday 7 Oct 1921 Page 2 - OLD FORBES.
The Black Ridge its dense scrub and sombre foliage justified the title which had been bestowed upon it, and it was regarded by its then owners as so much wasteland in the middle of a splendid run. Then the magic cry of "Gold!" went forth, and thousands flocked to the new El Dorado. No longer a desert, no longer a wilderness, the blows of the axe resounded through the forest, and a busy hive of humanity had its place, where but few weeks before was solitude of the bush. Then it was that the faint outlines of our fair town of Forbes were traced, and the solid foundations laid, on which has been reared the structure of later times.
The town of Forbes experienced rapid growth with the influx of gold seekers. The discovery not only attracted merchants, hoteliers, carpenters, entertainers, and butchers—eager to profit from the swelling population—but also drew less reputable figures. Among them were criminals and opportunists who preyed on travellers, waylaying them at gunpoint, and those who, after failing as miners, turned to theft even murder. Many of these eventually embraced the life of bushrangers.
The arrival of these lawless elements led to widespread stock losses across the district, with cattle theft becoming rampant. For instance, Mr. George Ranken (1821-1909)) of Bogabigal Station suffered severe losses and sued the government for £10,000 in damages. Though the legal battle was protracted, he ultimately received around £1,000 in compensation. In his honor, a street in Forbes was later named Rankin Street, albeit with a misspelling.
The term bushranger originally referred to escaped convicts who, rebelling against the brutal conditions of the chain gangs, survived by robbing isolated settlers—often facing execution if recaptured. However, as the goldfields expanded, the definition broadened to include any hardened criminal engaged in similar activities. Their notoriety was punctuated by infamous commands such as "Bail up!", "Stand and deliver!", or the chilling ultimatum, "Your money or your life."
Amid this shifting and often dangerous landscape, Ben Hall successfully established a prosperous cattle station at Sandy Creek, ideally positioned to supply beef to the growing demand from the two nearby goldfields. Lambing Flat 60 miles and Forbes 25 miles.
The dramatic transformation and newfound prosperity of Forbes following the gold rush were vividly detailed in a late 1861 newspaper article, capturing the rapid rise of the town and the challenges that came with it.
The town of Forbes experienced rapid growth with the influx of gold seekers. The discovery not only attracted merchants, hoteliers, carpenters, entertainers, and butchers—eager to profit from the swelling population—but also drew less reputable figures. Among them were criminals and opportunists who preyed on travellers, waylaying them at gunpoint, and those who, after failing as miners, turned to theft even murder. Many of these eventually embraced the life of bushrangers.
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| Mr. George Ranken |
The term bushranger originally referred to escaped convicts who, rebelling against the brutal conditions of the chain gangs, survived by robbing isolated settlers—often facing execution if recaptured. However, as the goldfields expanded, the definition broadened to include any hardened criminal engaged in similar activities. Their notoriety was punctuated by infamous commands such as "Bail up!", "Stand and deliver!", or the chilling ultimatum, "Your money or your life."
Amid this shifting and often dangerous landscape, Ben Hall successfully established a prosperous cattle station at Sandy Creek, ideally positioned to supply beef to the growing demand from the two nearby goldfields. Lambing Flat 60 miles and Forbes 25 miles.
The dramatic transformation and newfound prosperity of Forbes following the gold rush were vividly detailed in a late 1861 newspaper article, capturing the rapid rise of the town and the challenges that came with it.
We never saw a place of the same age in such a state of forwardness as this. Several good streets give an appearance of regularity to the rows of calico and bark, and the existence of an unlimited supply of excellent pine timber close at hand has led to the erection of buildings much more substantial, and sightly than those we have been accustomed to see in other new townships. A bi-weekly Court of Petty Sessions has already been established; of amusements, we have no lack of music and dancing, while billiard tables, a rifle gallery, and ten pins seem as popular as ever. The banking and gold buying business, of the "Oriental", and also of the post office are transacted at the stores of Mr Greig. Mrs Reed has a photographic gallery. Coaches ply frequently during the day between the crossing place at Fenn’s. (Wowingragong) and also these diggings a distance of nearly five miles. The Cowra coaches and mails from Sydney and the Flat run three times a week. Thus it will be seen that Forbes is not a place to be lightly esteemed.¹⁷
This important town is situated on the north bank of the Lachlan River, at a point almost midway in between Cowra and Condobolin. It is 82 miles from Orange, and 245 miles from Sydney, Tens of thousands of miners went out to their work at sunrise, and returned at 6 in the evening. Then, many thousands of fires were lighted, and the diggers prepared their evening meal. Comparative quiet reigned while they were partaking of it; but, that over, all is bustle again, for, with few exceptions, the diggers betook themselves to the theaters, concert halls, dancing Saloons, or public-houses, and many did not return to their tents until dawn. Scores of shoeblacks took up positions in the streets, and did a wonderful trade; hurdy-gurdy girls and other itinerant musicians played and sang, and reaped a rich harvest; mounted troopers and policemen (under Sir F. Pottinger) moved to and from among the masses; coaches were running at all hours, and in all directions, as well as actors and singers, sawyers, doctors, clergy, tradespeople, menagerie-men, and men of almost every nation, rank, and condition were on the field in incongruous medley.¹⁸
It was also noted as the influx of people descended on to the gold-diggings the cost in getting from Sydney, a long and arduous trip paid a handsome sum of £5 one way:
Ford and Co, are the most complete and stylish things imaginable; well horsed well driven, and every way comfortable. The fare, I understand, all the way from Sydney either by Burrangong or the Lachlan diggings is £5. A new coach is to be laid on by Messrs Ford and Co, capable I am told, of carrying 16 passengers.
As the gold rush intensified at Lambing Flat/Burrangong and the Forbes goldfields, Ben Hall transitioned from a hardworking stockman to a prosperous squatter, capitalising on the surrounding economic boom. Rather than seeking fortune in the goldfields, Hall focused on expanding his livestock holdings, supplying beef to the growing population of miners and settlers.
During this period, he became acquainted with a group of men who would soon be infamous as the Wild Colonial Boys—a rough and restless crowd, who stepped outside the law, armed with revolvers. Though Hall remained committed to his cattle station, he unknowingly found himself drawn into the orbit of men whose activities would soon turn his property into a focal point for bushranging in the district and a focal point of the police and one Sir Frederick Pottinger.
During this period, he became acquainted with a group of men who would soon be infamous as the Wild Colonial Boys—a rough and restless crowd, who stepped outside the law, armed with revolvers. Though Hall remained committed to his cattle station, he unknowingly found himself drawn into the orbit of men whose activities would soon turn his property into a focal point for bushranging in the district and a focal point of the police and one Sir Frederick Pottinger.
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| Francis Christie, alias Francis Clarke, Frank Gardiner. c. 1862. |
In reality, Frank Gardiner was a pseudonym for Francis Christie, born in Scotland in 1829. He arrived in New South Wales with his parents in 1834 at the age of five, and with his family soon after settled in what would become Victoria. However, as Christie entered adulthood, he found himself on the wrong side of the law.
Convicted of horse stealing in Victoria, he was sentenced to five years at Pentridge Stockade in Coburg, Melbourne. Yet, after serving only a year, he managed a daring escape and fled to New South Wales in late 1851 (for more details, see Gardiner page).
In NSW, operating under the aliases Gardiner and Clarke, he resumed his criminal activities. His freedom was short-lived, however, as he was arrested for horse theft in Yass in February 1854. Found guilty under the name Clarke, he was sentenced to fourteen years—two consecutive seven-year terms—to be served at the infamous Cockatoo Island prison in Sydney, a penal stronghold known for its brutal conditions.
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| Gardiner Ticket-of-Leave 1859. Never before published. |
However, growing suspicions of cattle theft forced Gardiner and Fogg to make a sudden exit from Lambing Flat, retreating to the familiar territory of the Fish River (Lachlan River) district. Gardiner sought refuge at Fogg’s residence, but word of his presence soon reached the authorities. In an attempt to apprehend him, police officers Middleton and Hosie confronted Gardiner, triggering a violent clash. A gunfight and brutal brawl ensued, leaving both officers severely wounded while Gardiner himself was viciously beaten. Yet, under suspicious circumstances, he managed to escape.
Now a fugitive once again, Gardiner resurfaced in Wheogo, aided by his growing association with John Gilbert and John O’Meally, who were involved in cattle theft operations in Young (formerly Lambing Flat) on Gardiner's behalf. However, his return in the district was marked by more than just criminal enterprise—it also introduced scandal.
Gardiner became entangled in a passionate affair with Catherine Brown, the 18-year-old wife of John Brown and the younger sister of Bridget Hall. Catherine and her husband lived in a small hut not far from the Wheogo homestead, where Ben and Bridget formally resided. Despite being 14 years her senior, Gardiner’s relationship with Catherine was intense and illicit, further complicating the web of alliances and betrayals that would soon define the Wheogo district.
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| Sir Frederick Pottinger. c. 1863. |
Pottinger’s arrival in the colony in 1859 was shrouded in mystery. After failing in his endeavours at the Victorian goldfields, he made his way to New South Wales and joined the police force as a mounted trooper in the southern gold escort at Gundagai. It was during this time that his aristocratic status—previously undisclosed—was inadvertently, or perhaps deliberately, revealed. Once his true lineage as a baronet became known, Pottinger swiftly ascended the ranks of government service.
His rapid rise saw him first appointed as Clerk of Petty Sessions at Dubbo, followed by a magistrate’s role during the Lambing Flat riots in 1861, which were fueled by tensions between European and Chinese miners. Eventually, under the newly enacted Police Act of 1862, Pottinger secured the prestigious position of Police Inspector in charge of the Lachlan District, with headquarters in Forbes.
Pottinger’s primary mission was clear: capture the elusive Frank Gardiner. For weeks, he led extensive bush searches through the Wheogo and Bland districts, working alongside other prominent bushranger hunters, including Captain Battye and Captain Zouch. However, his efforts were met with resistance. Many local landowners and grog shop traders harbored deep resentment toward the police, which allowed Gardiner to find refuge among certain sympathisers.
One of Gardiner’s key allies was Mrs. Feehiley, the owner of the infamous Pinnacle Station and the sister of Daniel Charters. Pottinger, increasingly suspicious of the district’s graziers, turned his scrutiny toward Ben Hall and John Maguire’s station, believing they, too, might be complicit in aiding bushrangers.
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| Kitty's reputed hut, Wheogo Station. c. 1920's. Courtesy Gordon Piper. |
"I knew Sir Frederick well. He used to stay at Sandy Creek whenever he was making round my way."
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| Frank Gardiner |
Beyond its role in tracking Gardiner, the map also cataloged individuals the police deemed to be of dubious character or directly involved in criminal activities—particularly those suspected of aiding the bushranger. Among the names prominently featured were Ben Hall’s young wife, Bridget Hall, and her sister, Catherine Brown. Both women were explicitly labeled as "bad", with one entry marking a particular station as a known haven for them. Yorkshire Jack was noted as a "good man", though tarnished by his association with these "bad" women.
The map provides a revealing glimpse into the police’s suspicions about the "wild Weddin girls", highlighting their extensive connections with various figures marked as potential criminal associates—many of whom were longtime acquaintances from their past.
Recognising the map’s strategic value, police officials forwarded it to the Inspector-General of Police in Sydney under the strictest secrecy. Its confidentiality was paramount; any leak could not only alert those harboring Gardiner but also risk provoking retaliation against individuals perceived as police informants. Ensuring the security of this intelligence was crucial to the effectiveness of ongoing law enforcement operations.
Recognising the map’s strategic value, police officials forwarded it to the Inspector-General of Police in Sydney under the strictest secrecy. Its confidentiality was paramount; any leak could not only alert those harboring Gardiner but also risk provoking retaliation against individuals perceived as police informants. Ensuring the security of this intelligence was crucial to the effectiveness of ongoing law enforcement operations.
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| The Map drawn by NSW police c 1861, shows the Routs and Harbourer's of Frank Gardiner living in the western districts and notes Mrs Ben Hall and her sister Mrs Catherine Brown as Women of Interest. ( I have edited the map to make it more legible. The map was brought to light by Edgar Penzig.) |
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| Ben Hall's son Henry, aged 56. Note; Henry's big solid frame. A dead ringer for his Father. c. 1915. Courtesy Noel Thurgood Collection. |
However, during this period, James Taylor—an associate of Frank Gardiner through his sister Mary’s marriage to William Fogg—emerged as a new figure in Bridget Hall’s life. She was frequently seen at the homes of known bushranger sympathisers, often without her young son, Henry, further fuelling speculation about her shifting allegiances.
While Ben Hall had some business dealings with Gardiner, particularly in cattle deliveries to Young, and the butchering business, his association initially appeared to be transactional rather than personal. In contrast, John Maguire, Hall’s station partner, maintained a closer personal relationship with the bushranger.
Additionally, Hall’s circle expanded to include John Gilbert and the O’Meally brothers, John and Patrick, emerging bushrangers from the nearby Weddin Mountains. A long-time Lachlan resident later recalled in 1863 that Hall’s friendships with Gilbert and John O’Meally began forming as early as 1859/60 signaling his gradual entanglement in a world that would soon define his fate.
About four years since, whilst taking some cattle overland from my station on the Lachlan, I fell in with young Hall, who was then stock-keeping for his brother near Bundaburra. He, O'Meally, Gilbert, and some others had all just returned from their usual trip after cattle, and on my asking them what luck they had met with, they replied: "they had camped out for three nights at a place called Humbug Creek, but had met with little or no cattle, only in one mob there were a few duffers." The term "duffer" is too well known to need description here; it simply means clean-skinned animals, which are appropriated by whoever can get them into a yard.¹⁹ See full letter below link.
Dedicated to his spiritual duties of guidance and redemption, the clergyman reproached them for engaging in labor on the Sabbath, urging them to reflect on the sanctity of the day. His rebuke, though well-intended, was met with little concern from the men—both of whom, by then, were becoming increasingly entangled in a life far removed from religious observance.
CORRESPONDENCE
The Newcastle Chronicle and Hunter River District News
Wednesday 4th November 1863
Years later, the enduring friendship between Ben Hall and the youthful troublemakers John Gilbert and John O’Meally was recalled by a clergyman during his ministerial travels. Passing by Wheogo and Sandy Creek Stations, he observed Ben Hall and John Gilbert working together to build a stock fence. Dedicated to his spiritual duties of guidance and redemption, the clergyman reproached them for engaging in labor on the Sabbath, urging them to reflect on the sanctity of the day. His rebuke, though well-intended, was met with little concern from the men—both of whom, by then, were becoming increasingly entangled in a life far removed from religious observance.
On one occasion the same preacher was travelling near the residence of Hall, on a Sunday, when he discovered Ben, Gilbert and others doing some fencing. Reminding them of the sacred character of the day, the preacher was surprised to learn that they did not know it was the Sabbath. They referred the point to a lady who happened to live in a homestead near, and on the statement of the preacher being confirmed they, immediately ceased their work for the day. Facilus descensus averni.²⁰ (Descent to hell is easy. prophetic words.)
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| Bridget Hall c. 1919. Note Taylors Wedding ring. Private Source. Never before published. |
During Bridget Hall’s frequent absences—often in the company of her sister Catherine and mixing with Gardiner’s associates—she became increasingly drawn to the charismatic James Taylor, a stockman ten years her senior.
Despite their age difference, Taylor captivated the young Bridget. While it was believed that she had no prior acquaintance with him before marrying Ben Hall, evidence suggests otherwise. Social interactions among settlers in isolated districts were common, with long horseback rides to visit neighbours, attend social gatherings, and even stay over for days being an accepted part of bush life.
The Weddin Mountains and Bland district were tight-knit communities, where family connections were often cemented through intermarriage. Bridget’s link to Taylor can be traced through Taylor’s former wife, Emma (née Dower), and her sister Mary Jamieson, whose family owned land at Back Creek close to Bridget’s father’s station at Wheogo.
Taylor’s family, meanwhile, held significant landholdings, including Balabla and The Rocks, near Bimbi—strategically located close to key properties such as Arramagong Station, home to the O’Meally family and the raising gold fields. This network of connections further blurred the lines between Bridget Hall’s personal ties and the growing influence of bushranger activity in the district. All these stations were within 15 miles of Lambing Flat.
Despite their age difference, Taylor captivated the young Bridget. While it was believed that she had no prior acquaintance with him before marrying Ben Hall, evidence suggests otherwise. Social interactions among settlers in isolated districts were common, with long horseback rides to visit neighbours, attend social gatherings, and even stay over for days being an accepted part of bush life.
The Weddin Mountains and Bland district were tight-knit communities, where family connections were often cemented through intermarriage. Bridget’s link to Taylor can be traced through Taylor’s former wife, Emma (née Dower), and her sister Mary Jamieson, whose family owned land at Back Creek close to Bridget’s father’s station at Wheogo.
Taylor’s family, meanwhile, held significant landholdings, including Balabla and The Rocks, near Bimbi—strategically located close to key properties such as Arramagong Station, home to the O’Meally family and the raising gold fields. This network of connections further blurred the lines between Bridget Hall’s personal ties and the growing influence of bushranger activity in the district. All these stations were within 15 miles of Lambing Flat.
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| William Fogg and Mary Fogg, nee Taylor. c. 1870's Penzig |
Taylor's older sister, Mary, had connections to Frank Gardiner and was married to Gardiner's accomplice, the cunning William Fogg. The Fogg family had a reputation for their involvement in theft and other shady activities. Additionally, due to their association with the Foggs, Taylor's brothers were frequently suspected by the police and linked to cases of cattle and horse theft.
The close bond between Fogg and Gardiner was evident in the actions of Mary Fogg. She proudly showcased to visitors a symbol of victory against authority—a shredded and bloodied shirt belonging to Gardiner, that survived during his bloody encounter with troopers Middleton and Hosie in 1861. It was this turn of events that brought Gardiner to the Lachlan and Kitty Brown. However, this memento held great sentimental value for Mary Fogg, representing defiance and triumph over the forces of law and order. The 'Empire' newspaper on Saturday, 14th March 1863, reported on this display by Mary Fogg.
The close bond between Fogg and Gardiner was evident in the actions of Mary Fogg. She proudly showcased to visitors a symbol of victory against authority—a shredded and bloodied shirt belonging to Gardiner, that survived during his bloody encounter with troopers Middleton and Hosie in 1861. It was this turn of events that brought Gardiner to the Lachlan and Kitty Brown. However, this memento held great sentimental value for Mary Fogg, representing defiance and triumph over the forces of law and order. The 'Empire' newspaper on Saturday, 14th March 1863, reported on this display by Mary Fogg.
Mrs Fogg is in the habit of showing the shirt that the desperado wore in that encounter, or rather the shreds of it that were picked up after his escape. I am given to understand that it is prized as a relic, and when shown to the rising generation, it in conjunction with the embellished narrative, will, I've no doubt, exercise a beneficial influence over that portion of the particular community in question, viz., The Abercrombie Ranges.
With Kitty in the arms of Gardiner Bridget Hall commenced her relationship with James Taylor. However, he was still legally married, having wed Emma Dower in 1849 in Yass, New South Wales. At the time their affair began, Taylor had recently left Emma, who was struggling with alcoholism, at their home in Bennetts Springs, Narrawa near Crookwell, NSW. He abandoned her leaving Emma to care for their their older children—Sophie (born 1851), Mary (born 1858), and baby John (born 1859).
Note: Many sources mistakenly link James Taylor to the NSW Police, though this is inaccurate. The confusion likely arises from his father, a former convict who, upon release, briefly served in the constabulary at Penrith before settling at Balabla.
By the latter half of 1861, Taylor’s relationship with Bridget Hall had intensified following his return to the Lachlan district. However, Taylor—like his estranged wife Emma—battled alcoholism, a struggle that would ultimately contribute to his demise in 1877. Bridget and Taylor would produce three children Catherine b. 1869 John b. 1870, James b. 1871. James appears to be initially registered as Jameison.
At first, Taylor framed his visits to Ben Hall’s station as friendly gestures. However, it soon became evident that his true motive lay in his growing romantic interest in Bridget, a contrast to Ben’s more reserved and quiet nature.
Sensing trouble, John Maguire, Ben Hall’s business partner at Sandy Creek Station, privately confided in Ben about the suspicious nature of Bridget’s relationship with Taylor. His concerns were later documented in The Biography of a Reliable Old Native, where he revealed...
With Kitty in the arms of Gardiner Bridget Hall commenced her relationship with James Taylor. However, he was still legally married, having wed Emma Dower in 1849 in Yass, New South Wales. At the time their affair began, Taylor had recently left Emma, who was struggling with alcoholism, at their home in Bennetts Springs, Narrawa near Crookwell, NSW. He abandoned her leaving Emma to care for their their older children—Sophie (born 1851), Mary (born 1858), and baby John (born 1859).
Note: Many sources mistakenly link James Taylor to the NSW Police, though this is inaccurate. The confusion likely arises from his father, a former convict who, upon release, briefly served in the constabulary at Penrith before settling at Balabla.
By the latter half of 1861, Taylor’s relationship with Bridget Hall had intensified following his return to the Lachlan district. However, Taylor—like his estranged wife Emma—battled alcoholism, a struggle that would ultimately contribute to his demise in 1877. Bridget and Taylor would produce three children Catherine b. 1869 John b. 1870, James b. 1871. James appears to be initially registered as Jameison.
At first, Taylor framed his visits to Ben Hall’s station as friendly gestures. However, it soon became evident that his true motive lay in his growing romantic interest in Bridget, a contrast to Ben’s more reserved and quiet nature.
Sensing trouble, John Maguire, Ben Hall’s business partner at Sandy Creek Station, privately confided in Ben about the suspicious nature of Bridget’s relationship with Taylor. His concerns were later documented in The Biography of a Reliable Old Native, where he revealed...
"Taylor was a pretend friend of Ben, but, as the after events showed, his visits were more on account of Ben's wife, who was a fine-looking woman."
Maguire ventured on that:
"I suspected his little game myself and had dropped hints to Ben."
Furthermore, after those hints, Maguire revealed Ben's understandable reaction:
Ben cautioned his wife, in very threatening language, what would happen if he ever discovered anything between her and Taylor. Later on, Ben actually came across some of Taylor’s letters, and there was such a row that the latter kept a civil distance.
Bridget Hall’s infidelity and prolonged absences from home signalled the unraveling of what had once been a harmonious marriage. This personal betrayal would set Ben Hall on a path that would ultimately lead him to infamy as one of New South Wales’ most notorious bushrangers.
In the early spring of 1861, as Ben Hall prepared to depart Sandy Creek for the annual cattle muster, he shared a tender farewell with Bridget and playfully tousled the hair of his young son, Henry, unaware that this would be their last goodbye. Casting a final affectionate look at his cara sposa (beloved wife), Hall mounted his horse and rode off to join fellow squatters in the arduous task of rounding up both branded and unbranded cattle, as well as wild horses, across the vast Bland and Lachlan plains.
These mustering events were crucial gatherings, bringing together squatters of all ranks. The crisp spring mornings would slowly give way to lengthening days, as men rode across the sprawling landscape, driving stock and sharing news of the district.
The significance of these musters in the lives of squatters was vividly described by Clarence Paget Bayly:
In the early spring of 1861, as Ben Hall prepared to depart Sandy Creek for the annual cattle muster, he shared a tender farewell with Bridget and playfully tousled the hair of his young son, Henry, unaware that this would be their last goodbye. Casting a final affectionate look at his cara sposa (beloved wife), Hall mounted his horse and rode off to join fellow squatters in the arduous task of rounding up both branded and unbranded cattle, as well as wild horses, across the vast Bland and Lachlan plains.
These mustering events were crucial gatherings, bringing together squatters of all ranks. The crisp spring mornings would slowly give way to lengthening days, as men rode across the sprawling landscape, driving stock and sharing news of the district.
The significance of these musters in the lives of squatters was vividly described by Clarence Paget Bayly:
"Wire fences were unknown, and wild horses and cattle roamed the bush at will, and you would see from 20 to 30 men saddle up in the morning to take part at these great musters, and the stockwhips would sound like thunder coming home to the yards at nightfall. Up would go the slip-rails. Off would come the saddles, when supper would be partaken of, and then you would see as jolly a lot of fellows as ever smoked a pipe."²¹
When Hall returned to Sandy Creek a few weeks later. He found the homestead hut deserted and learned from neighbours that the wife he had so greatly loved and so entirely trusted, had gone off.²²
Upon Hall's return from mustering, he was confronted with the devastating reality that Jim Taylor had whisked away his young wife Bridget. Not only that, but they had also taken Hall's beloved son Henry, the sunshine of his home, with them. The couple had eloped and sought refuge in Bigga, a location roughly 80 miles away from Hall's station. John Maguire described Ben Hall's emotional state as:
Cut up terribly, for he had been fond of his wife, and the little boy was the sunshine of his home.
The 'Adelong and Tumut Express and Tumbarumba Post' of Friday 22 August 1924 reviewed the circumstances, offering an early insight from an old friend of Hall's who earlier reminisced on the effect the desertion had after learning of his wife's faithless actions:
Ben was dumbfounded, and on recovering from his shock, said, "For God's sake, don't say that." It was abundantly clear that Hall was a changed man, and that he had received a wound that no skilled surgeon could heal. He raved and acted like a madman. The agitated father inquired eagerly after his child, only to be told that they had taken it with them. That night he saddled his horse, then procured a loaded revolver, and within a short space of time was on his way to search for the despoiler of his home and happiness. For a whole week, he continued the search, and then returned to Wheogo a completely changed man. Instead of being the industrious, hardworking grazier, he became sullen, restless and ill-tempered. He said it was useless working as he had no home nor anything to which was worthwhile living for. He had no wife, no child to cheer him at the end of the day's toil. As time wore on he became more reconciled to his lot and began to enjoy the company of others. He made frequent excursions to Lambing Flat, then a prosperous gold-digging field.
However, frustration developed into full-blown bitterness as Ben conducted a fruitless search for the lovers. Unknowing that their destination was the Fish River and the Fogg's home. Maguire recalled:
For three or four days Ben raced about, but could not get a clue as to the direction taken by the pair. He abandoned the search in despair.
Ben, my boy, try and forget me; I do not think it is in the power of God to forgive. I love a scoundrel—that is, if it be love at all, which I know the world will say it was not. Call it what you wish. ‘The hellish promptings of the devil,’ Taylor destroyed my duty to you as a wife, and I have destroyed your happiness for life. Something was in me that I had not fortitude to resist, however, hope that you will possess sufficient manliness to bear up against the conduct of a runaway strumpet. If you have not, I can't help it. Follow not. You have always been too good a man for me. Two villains are more suitable, possessing no love nor yet even the fear of God or the eternal flames of hell. Poor Ben, good-bye.
The veracity of the letter allegedly left by Bridget is uncertain. If it did exist, it was likely composed by Bridget’s literate older sister, Elen Maguire, given that Bridget herself could not write, as evidenced by their marriage certificate where both she and Ben signed with an "X". Elen, who remained close to Ben Hall until his death, was fully aware of Taylor’s feelings for Bridget and eventually disclosed the affair to her husband, John Maguire.
In the aftermath of Bridget’s departure and his unsuccessful attempts to locate his son Henry, reports suggest that Ben Hall was deeply affected by the loss, as his son was the sunshine of his home. Furthermore, the discovery of Taylor's betrayal is said to have ignited a fierce anger in Ben, fuelling a desire for violent retribution against the man who had usurped his home. John Maguire noted this profound shift in Ben's temperament, observing a darker, more vengeful side emerging.
I witnessed Ben’s first essay at pulling the trigger. It was a revolver that he had picked up on the road one day while we were out riding together a six-chambered weapon that had evidently fallen from someone’s belt. Getting a supply of ammunition, Ben used to pass his lonely moments at home practising at a target.
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| Jack Bradshaw, 1846-1937. |
He rode about the country like a madman, hardly knowing what he was doing, and mixed up with all kinds of company.
John Maguire further observed that Ben Hall had lost interest in his
share of Sandy Creek. The emotional strain from the betrayal and loss of
his family, along with the turmoil he endured, appeared to have eroded
his once fervent commitment to the station. Ben's priorities had shifted
significantly, and his attention to Sandy Creek soon diminished.
Ben soon lost interest in his station and started roaming about, so often that I missed him for days together.
Ben Hall in despair lost interest in Sandy Creek, whereby his brother William took over the management of the station. Meanwhile, Ben's association with Frank Gardiner became more apparent, as he was frequently seen in grog shops, establishments known for attracting drunkards, hooligans, and the idle individuals of the district. This class of people, characterised as layabouts, was exposed in an article published in The Yass Courier on April 22, 1862. The article shed light on the unsavoury characters with whom Ben Hall was now associated.
It behoves our protectors, the police, to have a keen eye upon all those young men who appear to have plenty of idle time to own and ride flash horses, and knock about public-houses, with apparently plenty of spare cash, and no ostensible means of earning or replacing the same; also, they are generally surrounded by old "loafers" of a shabby appearance, which fact ought to be enough to a sharp policeman for 'noscitur a sciios.' (It is known by the company it keeps.)
During his travels through the Western Districts, the vociferous Member of Parliament and Reverend John Dunmore Lang, often referred to as the "Stormy Petrel," made a number of pointed observations. In his 1862 article, 'Notes of a Trip to the Westward and Southward, by the Rev Dr Lang, M.P.,' Lang detailed the prevalence of rogue elements and unsavoury characters who loitered around the seedy venues near the gold towns of Burrangong and Lachlan goldfields. He also criticised the local citizens for their passive acceptance of the criminal activities that had become embedded in the region. It was in this questionable company that Ben Hall was frequently spotted, as Lang noted in his writings, Hall was engaging and socialising with these types of nefarious figures.
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| Rev. John Dunmore Lang. b. 1799 - d. 1878. Courtesy University of Wollongong. |
All along these routes there are these places of accommodation, shanties, sly grog shops, etc., of the most questionable character and it is in these places that our modern bushrangers obtain occasional shelter and general information.
The last two trips we have made, on both occasions, I saw him at the Pinnacle Station Mrs Feehiely's public house.
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MacAlister's former
Great Eastern Hotel, Forbes, frequented by Ben Hall. c. 1862. N.L.A. |
MacAlister also highlighted how disguising one's identity was a common tactic during robberies, a strategy that Hall might have used in his initial criminal endeavours with 'the boys'. This could have included blackening his face or donning a crape or calico mask to hide his identity.
While some historians question the extent of Hall's early bushranging ties, the accounts from contemporaries like MacAlister provide strong evidence of his involvement. These are not mere conjectures but are based on direct observations and experiences. MacAlister’s writings are particularly insightful for understanding Hall’s early collaboration with Gardiner and his gang, as revealed through thorough research.
The news was brought in on the sticking up of Mr Horsington, the Lambing Flat storekeeper, at Big Wombat, by Gardiner and his gang, Horsington having to part with £500 odd in money and over 200 ozs. in gold dust. Up to that time, this was the biggest coup the Darkie (Gardiner) had made. Ben Hall, Gilbert, Fordyce, Charters, and others of the bushrangers had drinks on many occasions at the Great Eastern Hotel in Forbes, and in broad daylight, too. This was prior to the Eugowra affair, and up to that event, Ben Hall and Gilbert were only suspected of a bushranging kinship with Gardiner. For though several of them had been before the Forbes Bench on suspicion (Ben Hall and O’Malley were repeatedly brought up), the law had failed to sheet the guilt home to them to the satisfaction of the local J.P.
In 1863, Ben Hall confirmed the veracity of MacAlister's observations when Hall recounted being brought before the Forbes magistrates. Hall acknowledged his arrests and voiced his irritation with the persistent harassment from Police Inspector Sir Frederick Pottinger during the capture of Inspector Norton. It is important to recognise, however, that these arrests were justified given Hall's connections with known bushrangers and the accumulating evidence of his participation in criminal activities. But lucky for Hall the police could never sheet the guilt home.
Ben Hall referred to the trouble Sir Frederick Pottinger had given him in having him taken into Forbes so many times before the magistrates for nothing.
Note: MacAlister had built and was the former owner of the Great Eastern Hotel in Forbes a regular drinking hole for Ben Hall, Gilbert etc. MacAlister's book may be accessed on the Links page.
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Illustration of hotel
festivities on the Gold Fields. c. 1860's. Image courtesy NLA. |
Ben Hall's loss of interest in Sandy Creek station became apparent when he was frequently spotted in the bustling township of Forbes, often in the company of individuals associated with Gardiner's gang. These meetings, detailed in Charles MacAlister's memoirs, typically unfolded in the vibrant settings of hotels and dance halls, where bushrangers mixed with locals over drinks, entertainment, and revelry. Uncaring of the police presence.
A notable distraction for Hall during these times was the presence of the Hurdy-Gurdy Girls, who danced with stockmen and miners for money, providing rare social interaction in a community where female company was scarce. Taking advantage of the gold-rich patrons and their often inebriated state, some dancers charged steep prices for a dance some in the vicinity of five pounds. The lively backdrop was set by musicians playing robustly to cover the sound of stomping feet, while poignant ballads about distant homes stirred a mix of nostalgia and longing among the miners.
Charles MacAlister recounted how these social gatherings frequently devolved into violent fistfights, with bushrangers like Gilbert indulging in various misdeeds. The NSW police struggled to control the chaos, often finding themselves outmatched and unable to catch the culprits behind the tumultuous brawls. Even the barmaids were subject to the rowdy advances of the exuberant men, adding to the tumultuous atmosphere of these events.
The barmaid was shying empty bottles and, pewters at the head of a young fellow who, she said, had insulted her, and the air was full of smash and frenzy. The great Sir F. Pottinger (then head of the police) was riding by at the time with one of his troopers, and he and his subordinate rushed into the bar, leaving their horses tethered to a tree nearby. While the police were inside quelling the row, someone made off with their horses, and we doubt if they were ever recovered. Johnny Gilbert, it was said, had a hand in the business; but whoever took them reduced the awful Pottinger to the level of an old vituperative fish-fag and he threatened several bystanders with summary punishment if the prads were not returned.
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| Ted Plunkett 1851-1929. Private Source. |
There was no such thing as whisky in the hotels. Whisky is a comparatively late drink. Pale and dark brandy was sold, then, and it was quite effective, too.
Plunkett provides an insight into the revelry and mischief in the gold town:
Everybody played practical jokes taking wheels off buggies, or removing signs from one shop and placing them elsewhere. Blazing tar balls were rolled up and down the streets, and everywhere there was skylarking going on. There was a crowd we called the Donegallers, and they were always looking for a fight. You might see one fight start away in the distance, and before you could reach it there would be half a dozen more.
Another former old-hand recalled life in the new sin city of Forbes; 'Western Herald', October 1908:
Another former old-hand recalled life in the new sin city of Forbes; 'Western Herald', October 1908:
It was a motley crowd one saw in Forbes along in '62 and '63, pressmen, lawyers, magistrates, surveyors, actors, demireps, unfrocked parsons, gamblers, pugilists, golden hole men, "all sorts and conditions of men," cheek by jowl. Vice and villainy were rampant, needy adventurers on the make, bushrangers in faint—very faint, disguise; bars and dancing saloons full to o'er flowing, cafe chantants better patronised than churches. Money was flung about anyhow; it seemed as if Sheol itself was let loose. Fast and fair women danced, or drank for wagers, and boasted that they could hold-up the police—or any other body in fact. One woman backed herself to waltz "either man or woman blind for £50," and declined to dance with any ordinary mortal for less than a fiver. (Sheol is ancient Greek for Hades.)
In an article for the 'Freeman's Journal' dated November 10, 1906, the noted 1860s journalist Dan Mayne a close friend of Sir Frederick Pottinger, vividly described the bustling atmosphere of Forbes during the time of Ben Hall's infamy. Mayne painted a picture of the town's carefree spirit, highlighting how men casually tossed and scattered gold nuggets, adding to the excitement and joviality that pervaded the environment. The nights were filled with robust singing, energetic dancing, and plentiful drinks, while the charming presence of Forbes' women further enlivened the already vibrant streets. Ben Hall continued to be a familiar figure in this lively scene, moving from one spot to another, fully immersed in the town’s nightlife.
When Maggie Oliver and Joey Gogenheim were playing with old Bill Holloway's company the diggers were so delighted with the sight of those ladies' fair forms and the sound of their sweet voices that (as bouquets were unknown) they threw valuable nuggets of gold on the stage to them instead. It was the liveliest place I was ever in, and many a jolly night I spent with M'Guire's friend, Ted Barry, who kept the hotel where old John Toohey drove the mail coach too, and Ted's pretty sister sweetened the sherry with her sunny smiles. Money was thrown about in the most reckless fashion.
Every entrepreneur was vying for the patronage of the cashed-up prospectors, graziers and station hands. A Forbes theatre advertisement 1862:
Every entrepreneur was vying for the patronage of the cashed-up prospectors, graziers and station hands. A Forbes theatre advertisement 1862:
Wigram's Exhibition Concert, legitimate amusement, light, laughable, and agreeable. Every evening from 7.30 to 11, by an unrivalled company of vocalists, musicians, and dancers. Reserved seats 1/-: Cushioned seats 2/-.
Many of these establishments were well patronised and for those less lucky free theatre shows were available but would include a small stipend:
Also there were several free theaters—but everyone who went in was expected to buy a drink; and whether they wanted it or not, they had to pay sixpence for it.
As Forbes' population grew with fortune-seekers, enterprising individuals took advantage of the town’s rapid expansion. They set up boarding houses, hotels, and various businesses, looking to turn a quick profit before moving on. The real estate market flourished, with properties being listed at high prices to meet the demand of eager purchasers. An early 1862 advertisement highlighting a hotel for sale is a prime example of the lucrative opportunities that were available in the bustling town of Forbes.
For Sale.— A Public House on the South Lead, 4 bedrooms, kitchen and oven. 50 boarders now in residence. Price £150.
As the hotels in Forbes became packed with patrons, it was a common sight to see individuals carrying a wide variety of weapons. Guns, pistols, and other arms were frequently seen in the hands of those mingling in the lively establishments of the town. The sound of gunshots would often echo through the air, a testament to the prevalence of these weapons and the sometimes rowdy atmosphere of Forbes' festive houses:
It was a curious crowd to look at. Nearly, all the men had revolvers or pistols in their belts, few wore coats, nearly all had flannels, some red ones, and moleskin trousers; some wore riding pants, and these could easily be picked out as stock dealers or stockmen, bringing stock for sale to the diggings.
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| Gold Warden Captain Brown. Courtesy HHS. |
There were fully 50,000 people on the field. The Warden Captain Brown, himself informed me that up to that date over 25,000 miners’ licenses had been issued and scores were applied for every day, and truly the Forbes rush at its height was a pandemonium.
Ben Hall immersed himself in the vibrant life of Forbes, frequently joining Gilbert, O'Meally, and their cohorts for nights of revelry. They patronised the many public houses in Forbes, where an abundance of wine, spirits, women, and song created a lively atmosphere. Notable establishments like Montgomery's Rising Sun Hotel, Great Eastern, and Cohen's Inn were among the numerous venues that dotted the town, while Hall also spent time at the Harp of Erin Inn and The White Hart Inn, managed by John Wilson, a friend of Maguire.
For a time, Hall cohabited with a woman reputedly named Betsy, (Penzig) though their relationship was brief as she eventually left with another. Moreover, Forbes was known for its Sly Grog shops—clandestine drinking spots that attracted dubious figures. One notorious shop was run by Gilbert and O'Meally, located along the road from Lambing Flat to Forbes, on the Gold highway near the Weddin Mountains. Highlighted below:
Yass Courier 22nd June 1861
The existence of places on the diggings at which grog is sold in defiance of the law, maybe excused by the peculiar circumstances of the population, constantly shifting from one locality to another, but we see no good reason why they should be tolerated in out of the way places in the bush, where they benefit no one except the class who live by cattle stealing. It is a veil known fact that the unlicensed grog-shops on by-roads, and in other quiet spots, are the very places where the professed horse and cattle thieves meet, concoct their plans, or effect changes in the property they have appropriated. We have known of half the carcass of a bullock (of course a stolen one) given for a bottle of rum at one of these dens, and the other day we were told of a mare of considerable value being swapped away for half a gallon of the same liquor. Of course, while men risk the chances of detection so rashly, it is not to be wondered at that they will filch a dozen foals from a herd of mares, drive them away, and brand them. As these grog-shops are out of the usual line of traffic, and as the police never bother their heads to shape that way, the trade is carried on with impunity, the customers consisting wholly of those to whom the existence of such places is of incalculable advantage.
These sly grog shops were not only places for cheaper drinks compared to the more upscale dance halls and hotels, but they also functioned as hubs for gathering information, planning highway robberies, and fencing stolen goods. Attracting a clientele that often included gangs and individuals looking to avoid police attention, these establishments were a favourite among those operating on the fringes of the law. Located on the edges of the goldfields, saloons hosting bare-knuckle boxing matches for wagers were particularly popular with this crowd. Intriguingly, despite frequent raids by law enforcement, many of these clandestine hotels and drinking spots were run by women, who managed to navigate and survive the challenges posed by the authorities.
These sly grog shops were not only places for cheaper drinks compared to the more upscale dance halls and hotels, but they also functioned as hubs for gathering information, planning highway robberies, and fencing stolen goods. Attracting a clientele that often included gangs and individuals looking to avoid police attention, these establishments were a favourite among those operating on the fringes of the law. Located on the edges of the goldfields, saloons hosting bare-knuckle boxing matches for wagers were particularly popular with this crowd. Intriguingly, despite frequent raids by law enforcement, many of these clandestine hotels and drinking spots were run by women, who managed to navigate and survive the challenges posed by the authorities.
The police have commenced prosecutions against the sly grog sellers. Five were summoned to appear before the court yesterday-Captain Browne and Commissioner Grenfell on the bench. Samuel Richards, James Pattison, and Margaret Scully were severally fined £30. The case against one Elizabeth Marshall was remanded for a week. A warrant was issued for one Helen Berriman, she not appearing to the summons.
Long after the gold rush had faded, and recounting the heady days of life in Forbes, an old resident mused over the throngs of people parading the streets circa 1862. 'The Forbes Advocate', Wednesday 4th April 1928:
Long after the gold rush had faded, and recounting the heady days of life in Forbes, an old resident mused over the throngs of people parading the streets circa 1862. 'The Forbes Advocate', Wednesday 4th April 1928:
I have not as yet given you any idea of the diggings. Well, it opened my eyes. I never saw anything approaching it; it was simply impossible for you to get down Rankin Street with a mate without losing him. The people were like sardines in a tin, it was simply wonderful. The hotels were packed, you had to wait your turn to get into them as well as other places of business. I do not think there was a country on the face of the earth which was not represented.
Ben Hall had thrown off the reputation 'as a young man of fine promise.'
However, before Hall's marriage breakdown, he and Bridget occasionally visited Bathurst, seeking a break from the monotony of station life and indulging in some leisure time. However, their visit in 1858 took an unexpected turn at the 'Australian Hotel' on Bentinck Street. Bridget found herself engaged in a heated argument with another woman, Mrs. Elizabeth Fitkin, which quickly escalated into a full-blown confrontation. The exchange of words between the two women was so intense that it was likened to a provocation for war, leading to their appearance in the Bathurst court.
Bridget, known for her fiery temperament as one of the wild Weddin Girls, used her sharp tongue as a weapon, unleashing a torrent of verbal abuse at Elizabeth Fitkin. The explicit language exchanged between them shocked those who overheard it. The barman of the hotel, Mr. Murray, was so taken aback by the vitriol of their exchange that he failed to appear as a witness when summoned to court, resulting in him being held in contempt. Eventually, Murray was escorted into the courtroom by a policeman. When questioned about his reluctance, Murray candidly explained to the judge.
Bridget, known for her fiery temperament as one of the wild Weddin Girls, used her sharp tongue as a weapon, unleashing a torrent of verbal abuse at Elizabeth Fitkin. The explicit language exchanged between them shocked those who overheard it. The barman of the hotel, Mr. Murray, was so taken aback by the vitriol of their exchange that he failed to appear as a witness when summoned to court, resulting in him being held in contempt. Eventually, Murray was escorted into the courtroom by a policeman. When questioned about his reluctance, Murray candidly explained to the judge.
Because he did not wish to mix himself up with anything so filthy and disgusting as the case in question. and I am disgusted, your Worships beyond measure, at being in any way connected with the transaction. I am an unwilling witness and will say no more than I am compelled.
The reporter in court also appeared to take a civil view and refrained to layout the ribald vitriol except to write:
It appeared that Mrs Bridget Hall had made certain references to Mrs Fitkins', chastity, in language which could scarcely be equalled by either the celebrated Mrs Moriarty or the great Daniel O'Connell, and which is therefore hardly fit for print. A portion of the language was given by Mr Murray, but as he had not taken notes of the belligerent interview he could not undertake to give the whole.
Murray concluded:
For forty years I have been occupied in that vocation, and little imagined it would be my lot, being moreover the father of a family, to figure in a dirty, filthy obscene, piece of business such as this.
The case was finalised and dismissed;
After some little discussion, the Bench concurred in that reading of the law and dismissed the case, at the same time releasing Mr Murray from custody, who left the Court with a polite bow.
Ben Hall had been married to a hellcat!
Authors Note: Elizabeth Fitkin arrived in New South Wales in 1839 as a convict on board the Margaret and received a Ticket of Leave in 1855. Fitkin had several arrests for assault, drunkenness and disorderly conduct in Bathurst:
The Margaret, Captain Canney, with 166 female convicts from Ireland, and 56 free emigrants, under the superintendence of Dr Moxey, R.N. Passengers - Rev Mr Wilkinson, Mrs Wilkinson and family, left the Cape of Good Hope same day at the Boyne, bound to Sydney. She also spoke of the Prince George, with emigrants for South Australia, to the northward of the line. The Margaret arrived in Port Jackson on 1st April 1839.
Conversely, in 1921, an old-stagier reminisced in the 'National Advocate', Friday 30th, September, of another evening in Bathurst, when Ben Hall, in company with his brother Bill, attended a dance at a local hotel:
Talking of dances did it. Alec declared that he had danced with Ben Hall. "Ben Hall wasn't a bushranger, then," protested Alec. "That was before he broke out. A lot of young fellows came into a hotel in William Street and made themselves known. I was only 17 or 18 then, (around 1860) and I didn't know them. One was Ben Hall, and another was his brother Bill. Ben looked a fine young fellow. They said, "Let's have a buck set." That meant all men. And we had a buck set. I took "tops" with Ben. And the only woman in the set was the publican's daughter.
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| Bridget Taylor |
Author's Note: In March of 1876, Taylor faced a personal tragedy when his first wife, Emma, passed away near Crookwell due to complications from excessive alcohol consumption. Despite this loss, Taylor quickly remarried, tying the knot with Bridget Hall on June 1, 1876, in Forbes. They had three children: John, born on January 1, 1869, James, born on April 14, 1871, and Catherine Ellen, born on July 20, 1873.
Amid Ben Hall's tumultuous personal life, his family in Murrurundi was embroiled in their own turmoil. The ongoing feud between his father, his brother Edward, and Edward's wife Honora showed no signs of subsiding. In December 1861, the patriarch of the Hall family, at 56 years old, found himself in the headlines once again.
On this particular occasion, the elder Hall was viciously assaulted by an individual believed to be known to him. This attack happened while he was on his way home after spending a peaceful evening at Thomas Abbott's Plough Inn at Blandford. The story was covered extensively in the January 8, 1862, issue of 'The Newcastle Chronicle and Hunter River District News.'
On this particular occasion, the elder Hall was viciously assaulted by an individual believed to be known to him. This attack happened while he was on his way home after spending a peaceful evening at Thomas Abbott's Plough Inn at Blandford. The story was covered extensively in the January 8, 1862, issue of 'The Newcastle Chronicle and Hunter River District News.'
On Friday last, as poor old Ben Hall, of Blandford, was on his road home, a "little the worse for beer," and as Benjamin resided a distance of half-a-mile from the public house where he had been spending the evening, and felt tired, he sat down to rest awhile, and unfortunately fell into a sound sleep, when some villain poured over his head and face a quantity of hot water, scalding poor Hall in a fearful manner. The police have a clue to the monster who committed this atrocious act.
Yet, the method of the attack on Ben Hall's father suggested the hand of a woman, given that boiling water is not typically a man's weapon of choice. It is plausible to infer that Edward Hall's wife, Honora, may have been the perpetrator, given the bitter animosity known to exist between her and her father-in-law, Ben Hall Sr. However, the records remain silent on how Ben Hall himself reacted to these ongoing familial disputes and his elder brother's fraught relationship with their father.
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| Ben Hall c. 1862. |
Things got from bad to worse, till Frank Gardiner, the bushranger came. He capped the lot. Now under 'The King of the Road's influence, Ben started on his notorious career.
Frank Gardiner was a formidable character, reminiscent of the famous
17th-century English highwayman, Claude Du Val. Born in 1643, Du Val was
known for his bold exploits and charismatic charm. His legacy established the archetype of
the gentlemanly rogue, a persona that Gardiner seemed to emulate
perfectly in the mid-19th century.
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| Flamboyant, Claude Du Val. by William Powell Firth (1819-1909) |
A gallant and courteous rogue, probably the most dashing highwayman ever to haunt the roads of England. He was known as a “true gentleman of the road.
Gardiner wore breeches and high boots, cabbage-tree hat with a black band, and black poncho spotted on the inside of like the skin of a leopard.
This approach was similarly embraced by his cohort, John Gilbert, who also presented himself with flamboyance. Even the more reserved Ben Hall, who took great pride in his appearance, started to adopt this style. This trend among the trio—Gilbert, O'Meally, and Hall—made them stand out; despite their criminal activities, they were often noted for their cleanliness, sharp dress, and composed demeanour. As they carried out their bold raids across the Lachlan region, these bushrangers maintained a dignified presence, their outlaw behaviour contrasting starkly with their refined exteriors. This combination blurred the lines between villainy and respectability, crafting an enthralling image that captivated the public’s attention.
This approach was similarly embraced by his cohort, John Gilbert, who also presented himself with flamboyance. Even the more reserved Ben Hall, who took great pride in his appearance, started to adopt this style. This trend among the trio—Gilbert, O'Meally, and Hall—made them stand out; despite their criminal activities, they were often noted for their cleanliness, sharp dress, and composed demeanour. As they carried out their bold raids across the Lachlan region, these bushrangers maintained a dignified presence, their outlaw behaviour contrasting starkly with their refined exteriors. This combination blurred the lines between villainy and respectability, crafting an enthralling image that captivated the public’s attention.
Hall had a quiet and respectable air—by wearing nicely-shaped high boots and a well-fitting pair of brown cord pants, with fashionably cut cloth coat and vest of the same colour, and only one gold chain, and not much of that to be seen.
Adding to their complex personas, Gardiner and Hall showed a strange sense of generosity amidst their audacious thievery. Even when their victims were at the wrong end of their guns, stripped of their precious belongings and hard-earned money, they were never left penniless. Silver coins, particularly shillings, were a line Gardiner, Hall's mentor, rarely crossed, leaving these for their victims to get by. Hall too adopted this practice, only deviating when circumstances were particularly dire.
These actions, as unconventional as they may seem for outlaws, only served to enhance Gardiner and Hall's prestige. They were not just mere thieves but held a certain code, a chivalry of sorts, within their lawlessness. This intriguing facet of their characters further cemented their reputations, presenting a compelling contrast to the ruthless bushranger image, thereby keeping the public perpetually captivated.
These actions, as unconventional as they may seem for outlaws, only served to enhance Gardiner and Hall's prestige. They were not just mere thieves but held a certain code, a chivalry of sorts, within their lawlessness. This intriguing facet of their characters further cemented their reputations, presenting a compelling contrast to the ruthless bushranger image, thereby keeping the public perpetually captivated.
There have been few instances where violence has been used by these modern highwaymen, they will often leave a few shillings with their victims, so that they may not be on the road quite destitute.
Adopting the egalitarian ideals promoted by Frank Gardiner, John Gilbert, O'Meally, and Ben Hall forged their own distinct path in their outlaw activities. Hall's recent alliance with Frank Gardiner, reinforced by his established friendship with John O'Meally and John Gilbert, shifted him from his life as a grazier into the thrilling realm of bushranging. This transition into a life of defiance and daring inevitably set him on a collision course with the forces of law.
Sir Frederick Pottinger, a determined law enforcement officer, had already targeted the infamous Frank Gardiner and his gang. When several highway robberies occurred near Sandy Creek from March to April 1862, one attributed to Ben Hall, his arrest was notably public and dramatic. Hall was apprehended at the Forbes racecourse, handcuffed, and taken to the lock-up.
The arrest created a significant commotion among the local population, many of whom were stunned to see one of their own detained so publicly. Despite Gardiner’s well-known status as the dominant 'King of the Road,' the notion that Hall might be complicit was startling and left many in disbelief. With Gardiner reputed to control local travel routes—allegedly issuing free passes for unobstructed travel—the lines between criminal and hero in Hall’s public persona became increasingly blurred, complicating how he was viewed throughout the district.
It asserted that the bushranger Gardiner is supplied with information by numberless accomplices both in the township and along the roads; a journalist has had it said of him that he can secure any friend from Gardiner by giving "passes."
As Ben Hall delved deeper into the bushranging life, he found himself amidst a diverse and transient group that frequented the rough sly grog shops and shanties scattered around the goldfields. These men, drawn by Frank Gardiner’s charismatic leadership, would often loiter like dingos, waiting for chances to profit from Gardiner's bold schemes. Notable among this group were figures such as John Davis, John McGuinness, 'Paddy' Connolly, and 15-year-old Johnny Walsh — Bridget Hall's brother — along with John Jameison, Taylor's nephew, all of whom were well-acquainted with Ben.
Gardiner's gang was a diverse assembly, constantly changing as various individuals, often down on their luck, joined and departed from the ranks of these bushrangers. Gardiner’s readiness to confront any passerby with his pistol became legendary. His daring actions were so significant that they were even debated in the New South Wales 'Parliamentary Hansard' and reported in the 'Sydney Morning Herald' on August 19th, 1863, for the period from March 1862 to April 1862, showcasing the broad intrigue and, in some quarters, admiration for Gardiner’s reckless endeavours.
March 25th, 1862.-Telegram, Forbes. Gardiner stuck-up and robbed two drays (between this and Lambing Flat) of provisions, spirits, and winter clothing; April 12th, Gardiner went to Mrs Chisholm station, at Bland, and stole a horse; 17th, telegram, from Forbes, sticking-up is still the order of the day between here and Lambing Flat, 20th, Gardiner stuck-up about twenty-five men on the Lachlan Road a few days ago, and several drays. 23rd, Gardiner and four armed men dashed in front of Greig's coach, on the road from the Lachlan to Burrangong and turned into the bush again; on the same day, they stuck up and robbed a dray, belonging to Moses and Son and the other day, they stuck up and robbed Mr Greig's dray on the Lachlan road.
Undoubtedly, the relationships Ben Hall had formed, coupled with his recent forays into highway robbery, likely tied him to several reported incidents, especially the last three above. It's important to note that there could be a delay of several weeks between the dates of the robberies and when they were published.
Ben Hall's ties to Frank Gardiner trace back to around late 1860. This connection was further confirmed by a mail contract rider who was held up in Binalong in 1863 by Hall and John Gilbert. The postman's testimony further cemented the partnership between these infamous bushrangers, highlighting the complex network of associations that underpinned their criminal endeavours. This was documented in the 'Geelong Advertiser' in December 1863.
Richard Henry, in the employ of Mr Jacob Marks, the contractor, was conveying the mails from Binalong to Yass, he was stuck up by Gilbert and Hall. As to the identity of the bushrangers there can be no doubt, as their faces were not disguised in any manner, and Richard (or Dick, as he is better known by, a half-caste aboriginal) had the opportunity of fully recognising them as those well known bushrangers, who, in company with Gardiner, waited upon him professionally while he was conveying the mails in the neighbourhood of Murrumburrah, some two years past.
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| Ben Hall description NSW Police Gazette, for 8th April 1862, Note Lame. Others no doubt 1. Gardiner, 3. Gilbert and 4. O'Meally. |
However, there is little doubt that Ben Hall had already been involved in earlier robberies with Gardiner’s gang. Through a combination of luck, discretion, and cunning, he had managed to evade identification in the many crimes carried out by Gardiner, Gilbert, and the O'Meally brothers, John and Patrick.
The notion of Hall’s innocence in criminal activity is further discredited by Charles MacAlister, publican and builder of the Great Eastern Hotel in Forbes. MacAlister’s recollections in 'Old Pioneering Days in the Sunny South,' confirm that Hall was deeply entangled with Gardiner’s notorious associates. Though his early misdeeds initially escaped prosecution—often through failure of the authorities coupled with strategic denials or lack of evidence—Ben Hall had already stepped beyond the boundaries of the law. His descent into outright criminality was now inevitable.
Ben Hall and Gilbert were only suspected of a bushranging kinship with Gardiner. For though several of them had been before the Forbes Bench on suspicion (Ben Hall and O’Malley were repeatedly brought up), the law had failed to sheet the guilt home to them to the satisfaction of the local J.P.
During the period 1861/early 62, the New South Wales Police Gazettes reported a plethora of highway robberies, with strong descriptions of the culprits including a description closely resembling Ben Hall in the company of Frank Gardiner.
In an April 1862 edition of the NSW Police Gazette, promulgated three months before the Eugowra Escort Robbery of June 1862. Hall noted in the publication regarding his participation in unlawful acts. The entire Lambing Flat/Forbes district was grappling with rampant lawlessness, and Hall through local observation was deeply involved in the havoc of robbery and fear to the hundreds of victims, many which failed to report their bailing up.
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| Ben Hall woodcut image, c. 1865. Courtesy NLA. |
In an April 1862 edition of the NSW Police Gazette, promulgated three months before the Eugowra Escort Robbery of June 1862. Hall noted in the publication regarding his participation in unlawful acts. The entire Lambing Flat/Forbes district was grappling with rampant lawlessness, and Hall through local observation was deeply involved in the havoc of robbery and fear to the hundreds of victims, many which failed to report their bailing up.
Furthermore, contrary to the portrayal by some contemporary writers of Ben Hall as a tall and slender figure, historical records paint an entirely different picture. Hall was actually of short and stout build, standing between 5 feet 6 inches to 5 feet 8 inches, depending on whether he was observed on horseback or on foot. His lameness—resulting from an earlier accident—became particularly evident by hostages held during the Canowindra raid of 1863.
"The
whole are sober youngsters—none of them
drink-they all have breech-loading rifles, and each has four
revolvers.
Ben
Hall is a quiet, good-looking fellow, lame, one leg having been broken.
He is the eldest of the party and the leader--I fancy about 28 at years
of age."
Another account remarked on Ben Hall: "Rather above the medium height, 5ft 6-7in tall and rather stoutly built, and weighed 13 st 7 lbs."
In the 1860s, a man of Ben Hall’s build would likely be considered overweight by today's Body Mass Index (BMI) standards. Maguire noted that Hall was about three stone (42 lbs or 19.05 kg) heavier than him. For context, Maguire was quite lean, weighing about 140 lbs and standing at 5 feet 9 inches tall, in sharp contrast to Hall's more robust frame, 182 lbs stood between 5 feet 6 and 7 inches. The woodcut above of 1865 is possibly
the most accurate representation of Ben Hall. The known portrait also
shows Hall as a heavily well proportioned individual.
Maguire stated on
Ben's build:
"Although he was a much bigger man than I was, for he was nearly three stone heavier than I."
Frank
Gardiner was as well recorded as 5 ft 9 in and 145 lbs or 10 stone.
During a later robbery in 1864, Ben Hall’s appearance was noted:
Hall is the only one of the three who cultivates any moustache or whiskers, and he is getting fat.²³
The leap into Bushranging; "Next time they take me, they'll have something to take me for."
The leap into Bushranging; "Next time they take me, they'll have something to take me for."
It is 14th April 1862; Frank Gardiner and John Gilbert approach the transport dray of William Bacon drawing their revolvers. Edward Horsenail, an employee of Bacon's, later attested:
I noticed two men ride out of the bush, and cried out to Bacon, "Look out, Bill, here are the boys!" they came up and presented their revolvers, and ordered us into the bush.²⁴
Gardiner ordered Benkin to turn his wagons into the scrub where Ben Hall and another man, John Youngman, reputedly an employee of Ben Hall were waiting. Hall is holding the reigns of a pack-horse to load their ill-gotten gains. Two passing travellers were spotted on the road from the scrub. Gardiner orders Ben Hall and Gilbert to fetch them. They bail them up, steal a saddle and hold the men as prisoners. On completion, the four bushrangers took clothing, tobacco, spirits, and other goods. Newspapers at the time reported Gardiner's command of the Queen's highway and that his current actions could only end in misery:
Gardiner is a bold rogue and a very great fool, because, he not only braves the police and levies toll along the whole line of road from Burrangong to the Lachlan, but he risks his liberty or neck for the paltry equivalent of a few months defiance of the law. A pity it is that so bold a spirit should be occupied in so bad a cause, and should have to look forward to so contemptible an end.²⁵
Taking advantage of his recent gains, Ben Hall leisurely travelled to the annual horse races in Forbes, an event he thoroughly enjoyed. The 1862 Easter holiday races were set to occur over three days, from April 22nd to the 24th at Wowingragong. This event, always wrapped in a festive air, drew a varied audience that included Forbes' high society along with an eclectic mix of intriguing and somewhat questionable figures. For Hall, it was a chance to revel in his passion for horse racing.
However, the victim and owner of the drays robbed, William Bacon had known Ben Hall personally and in his statement at Hall’s subsequent remand hearing, positively identified Ben Hall as one of the assailants:
William Bacon, by his evidence, had nothing to gain or lose and knew Ben Hall well. Well enough to have positively identified him. Another eyewitness, Edward Horsenail, corroborated Bacon’s evidence and also claimed to have known Ben Hall on sight from many previous social occasions:
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| Forbes Annual Horse Racing results, April 22,23 and 24, 1862. N.L.A. |
The attendance was reputed to be large, but the gathering was not altogether free from the presence of notorious "sovereign-sellers," "urgers," "teardowns," "pluguglies," "pea and thimble" tricksters, and "go-getters?' of that day.
However, on the second day of the meeting 23rd April 1862, Ben Hall was arrested by Sir Frederick Pottinger: The Sydney Morning Herald Thursday 1 May 1862.
Benjamin Hall, described as a settler in the Wheogo district, was brought before the Court charged with highway robbery under arms.
Hall's arrest was from information received through the bullock-dray robbery victim William Bacon. (Benkin) Pottinger, who harboured suspicions regarding Hall and his associates, slapped Hall with handcuffs and presented him in court where Pottinger stated to the magistrate:
From information received I apprehended the prisoner on Wednesday last on the racecourse, charged with highway robbery, in company with others, on the road between the Lachlan and Lambing Flat”; It was noted that; "Ben Hall denied the charge.²⁶ (See article right)
On the day of the arrest an old-timer known as Old Ned in 1901 remarked on Hall's arrest and dress later republished in The Forbes Advocate Friday 5 June 1931:
It was at these races that Ben Hall, who was at that time looked upon as being in a fair way well to do, was first arrested for horse stealing or something of the kind. I remember he was dressed in knee-breeches and boots and wore a cabbage-tree hat, which were generally used at that time.
With Hall locked up it was reported of Ben's connection to Gardiner:
One of Gardner's band was arrested, mounted on a fine powerful brown horse, superior to anything belonging to the mounted force.
Note: At the Forbes race meeting one horse entered was called 'Don't You Know' a beautiful brown bay trained by Tom Higgins and reputedly owned by Frank Gardiner.
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| N.L.A. |
Prisoners opened a case of tobacco; the man supposed to be Gardner told prisoner to strap the tobacco and bottles of gin on the pack-horse, which he did; I was requested to help him, which I did; in doing so prisoner said to me, "You never saw me before," to which I replied that I had, and drank with him; they then ordered us to pack up and left us, prisoner leading the pack-horse away; I swear positively that the prisoner is the man; I cannot be mistaken - when he robbed the drays some chaff passed between us with respect to a woman I knew he was acquainted with.²⁷
I am driving for the last witness, I have been in his employ fully fifteen months; I know the prisoner-have seen him on several occasions; on Monday week last, as far as I can judge about ten o'clock, when about two or three miles from Green's, I noticed two men ride out of the bush, and cried out to Bacon, "Look out, Bill, here are the boys!" they came up and presented their revolvers, and ordered us into the bush, one kept near the dray I was driving, the other by the side of Bacon's dray; when a short distance off the road, two other men rode up, one the prisoner, leading a pack-horse on which there were two or three saddles; I can positively swear to the prisoner; the man we supposed to be Gardner then commenced to open the cases on the dray; prisoner stood by with a revolver in his hand; a case of gin was opened, and a bottle passed round for all hands to drink; prisoner and another left by order of the man supposed to be Gardner, and brought two other men from the road; prisoner, by order of the same man, searched my dray; he broke a case of tobacco open, and packed two bags containing tobacco and other things on a horse; they soon after left; I know prisoner; the last two trips we have made, on both occasions I saw him at the Pinnacle Station (Mrs. Feehiely's public house); I can positively swear to him; I cannot be mistaken." "Prisoner, who declined to say anything, was remanded until Saturday (this day) when he was again brought before the Court and committed for trial: bail refused.²⁸
Of all the drays in all the districts to rob. Ben Hall had to pick the one where they all knew him and knew him well!
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| Clerk of the Peace, Forbes, Depositions received entry log for Ben Hall, 1862. Never before published. |
The Sydney Morning Herald
Thursday 1st May 1862
POLICE COURT.—APRIL 25TH.
Apparance at Forbes following his arrest.
The strong evidence against Ben Hall resulted in his detention, as he awaited transfer to Orange for trial, due to the absence of a Sessions Court in Forbes. Charged with 'Robbery Under Arms,' a conviction would likely mean a long prison sentence for Hall.
Forbes, a town teeming with thousands of residents and plagued by frequent criminal acts, sorely felt the absence of a higher court to handle serious offences. This deficiency became a major point of contention among the local population, as highlighted in a report by the 'Empire' on May 23, 1862. The town's frustration over this judicial shortfall was palpable as they awaited the resolution underscoring the critical need for a local Sessions Court.
Amongst our many wants perhaps none is more imperatively felt than that of a session court somewhere in the district. At present, we have to go to Orange, a distance of eighty miles.
Hauled by Sir Frederick Pottinger before the local magistrate. Ben Hall adamantly proclaimed his innocence, contending that he and his co-accused, John Youngman, had accidentally encountered the robbery in progress. Hall argued that the revolver found with him had been picked up earlier in the bush, and that Gardiner had unexpectedly approached them, ordering them to remain where they were. According to Hall, they both compiled, simply sitting on their horses without engaging in the criminal act.
However, a significant question emerged: why hadn't Gardiner also taken the opportunity to rob them, as he had with other unsuspecting individuals during the same incident? This discrepancy, combined with Hall's well-known association with Gardiner, heightened suspicions that Hall was not merely an innocent onlooker but was actively involved as Gardiner's accomplice. This was soon brought to light.
Prisoner and another left by order of the man supposed to be Gardner, and brought two other men from the road.
Given the substantial evidence, the portrayal of Ben Hall merely watching as individuals were robbed at gunpoint and coerced into handing over their valuables is particularly disturbing, transcending historical context. Hall and Youngman's failure to either intervene during the robbery or provide evidence about it later intensifies suspicions about their involvement, especially considering their known connections with Gardiner. The idea that the victims, many of whom knew Hall and Youngman personally, would fabricate evidence against them appears highly unlikely. Consequently, it seems evident that Hall was an active collaborator, deeply embedded in Gardiner’s circle.
This conclusion is reinforced by Hall’s inability to secure bail, reflecting the compelling nature of the case built against him, underscored by victim testimonies. The conditions in the cell where Hall was held highlight the inadequate infrastructure of the time, poorly suited to manage the influx of accused in Forbes. The detention facilities were easy to escape and hardly met the needs of the growing town. An 'Empire' article dated April 28th, 1862, starkly illustrates this scenario:
On mentioning our Government buildings in my last, I forgot to mention our lock-up; it is a log hut, about twenty by twelve feet, anything but secure.
The scant arrangements in the lockup created an environment for an easy escape, which occurred during the time of Hall's incarceration:
For a few nights ago, nine prisoners escaped by burrowing a hole under the logs with their knives; in the morning it was discovered that the birds had flown, and no one to go after them, our inspector and posse being on a wild goose chase after Gardiner, the bushranger." Those who shot through were named as "Richard Eady, John Lewis, James M'Grain, John Donovan, Sydney Reece, James Taylor, and David Fraser, and they had all been committed and sentenced for various offences. There must be some neglect somewhere.
However, Hall surprisingly never apprised the opportunity to join in the mass escape. Moreover, in the local paper, Hall's arrest was commented on:
Things are assuming a quiet aspect since Davis was captured, and Benjamin Hall committed for trial for robbing Mr Greig's team, on Friday last, by Sir F. Pottinger.
As Ben Hall languished in jail, his support network slowly crumbled. The friendships he once relied on began to fade, significantly affected by his notorious associations with figures like Gardiner, John Gilbert, and O'Meally. His April 1862 arrest marked a pivotal moment, as former loyalties and sympathies waned. Sir Frederick Pottinger, who frequently visited Sandy Creek to track down Gardiner and his crew, exacerbated Hall’s infamy. These visits, driven by suspicions of bushrangers being sheltered in the area, cast Hall as a collaborator with these criminals, tainting Sandy Creek’s reputation akin to notorious places like Arramagong and the Pinnacle.
Pottinger was convinced of Hall and Maguire’s criminal involvements. The inspector, holding a firm belief in the supremacy of justice, and bolstered by Bacon's compelling testimony, saw one of Gardiner’s affiliates finally imprisoned. For Pottinger, securing a conviction against Hall seemed imminent—a much-needed victory. However, Hall saw things differently. Having experienced Pottinger's aggressive approach during his arrest at the Easter Wowingragong race meeting, Hall, now behind bars in Forbes jail, directed his growing bitterness towards Pottinger, staunchly denying any wrongdoing.
In a move to further undermine Hall's reputation among his neighbours, Pottinger launched a public campaign to solidify Hall's image as a bushranger. He strategically placed a notice in the 'NSW Police Gazette', an action clearly aimed at reinforcing Hall’s criminal image and isolating him from any remaining supporters. This public declaration starkly labelled Hall as a bushranger, a step Pottinger hoped would sever Hall’s remaining social ties. The stark announcement appeared in the Gazette's edition of May 14, 1862.
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| NSW Police Gazette, 14th May 1862. |
The perplexity surrounding the Gazette notice arises from Pottinger's apparent deliberate exclusion of the alleged horse theft. Given the suspicions that the horse in Hall's possession was stolen, it raises questions why this charge wasn't added to the existing accusation of highway robbery, especially considering the severity of horse theft, comparable to Robbery Under Arms.
A potential reason for this omission might be Pottinger’s frustration with the continual dodging and shielding by those linked to Gardiner. Believing Hall to be a significant figure within Gardiner's circle, Pottinger might have viewed the public notice as a strategy to undermine Hall’s credibility among his peers and potentially gather critical information to further implicate Hall and his cohort. This approach was likely a calculated tactic reflecting Pottinger’s intent to break down Gardiner’s network.
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| Orange Courthouse, c. 1860's. Here Hall's trial took place on 19th May 1862. Hall had been transported to Orange under escort by Sgt Condell. Image courtesy NLA. |
Following this, a shackled Ben Hall, together with co-accused John Youngman, was escorted under heavy guard to Orange, New South Wales, for their trial. This unfolding drama was reported in the 'Lachlan Observer' dated April 25, 1862.
At the Lachlan police-court, John Thomas Youngman, was charged with having, in company with three other men (one of them supposed to have been the bushranger, Gardiner) robbed the dray of William Benkin on the road between Lambing flat and the Lachlan. From the evidence of the prosecutor and his assistant, it appeared that on the 14th April, they were on the road to Lambing Flat with the dray, when they were met by the prisoner, and three other men, one of whom they believed was Gardiner. The prisoner was riding a brown horse, and leading a grey one. The man supposed to be Gardiner handed fire-arms to the prisoner, who stood with them until Gardiner and his mates commenced to break open the goods on the dray. The robbers took clothing, tobacco, spirits, and other goods, and then went away. The prisoner was subsequently arrested by order of Sir F. Pottinger. The prisoner reserved his defence, and was committed to taking his trial at the ensuing quarter-sessions to be held at Orange, on Monday, the 19th May.
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| View overlooking the street from the Orange Courthouse. c. 1860's. Image courtesy NLA. |
During the last two or three days, Jackey Bullfrog became more resigned and attentive, The Rev. Thomas Sharps had also very frequently attended him, and notwithstanding the difficulties of the case, succeeded at length in convincing him of the existence of a Supreme Being, the certainty of a future state, and the necessity of seeking salvation through the redeemer; and being satisfied that he so far understood the leading doctrine of Christianity, the rite of baptism was administered yesterday morning. Exactly at nine o’clock the criminals, having been previously pinioned were led forth from their cells, and conducted towards the scaffold, accompanied by the Revs. Messrs. Sharpe and Hillyer, who read a portion of the funeral service as they proceeded. On reaching the foot of the gallows, the clergymen and the prisoners knelt dawn, and after prayer, in which Piesley appeared to engage very devoutly, the men ascended the scaffold. He (Piesley) concluded, by saying, "Goodbye gentlemen, and God bless you." The fatal rope was then adjusted, and the white caps being drawn over the faces of the culprits, at a signal from the acting sheriff the drop fell, and the two unfortunates were launched into eternity. Piesley did not appear to suffer much for long, but the poor blackfellow was for several minutes frightfully convulsed. After hanging the usual time, the bodies were cut down, and, being placed in coffins, were conveyed to their last resting place.
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| George Colquhoun. c. 1890. Penzig |
While detained in the cells of the Orange courthouse, Ben Hall received visits from his half-brother Thomas Wade and John Maguire. Maguire engaged solicitor George Colquhoun, who in turn appointed the renowned barrister Edward Lee to defend Hall.
Hall’s co-defendant, John Youngman, was also due to stand trial in Orange. The Crown Prosecutor, however, harboured doubts about the robustness of the evidence against Youngman, leading to his being granted bail. Youngman, lacking the personal resources for bail, relied on Maguire and another associate, Peter Murray, who posted £40 each for his release. Youngman seized this opportunity to flee, effectively erasing himself from the annals of bushranging history, leaving Maguire to absorb the financial hit.
With Youngman's escape, Hall's conviction appeared more likely. His trial commenced on Monday, May 19th, 1862. Hall displayed a stoic demeanour in the dock while Bill Bacon, a principal witness, testified to Hall's participation in the robbery, implicating him with Gardiner.
However, the trial took an unexpected turn when Ferguson, a driver employed by Bacon, contradicted his earlier deposition. Initially, he had identified Hall at the Forbes Court as one of the attackers, but at the Orange trial, he expressed doubts about Hall's involvement in the robbery, a development that stunned the courtroom.
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| Mr Mitchell's unvarnished letter. N.L.A. |
After reviewing the now dubious evidence, the jury deliberated briefly before returning a verdict of 'Not Guilty by Reasonable Doubt', swayed by the newly introduced uncertainty. There was widespread speculation among the NSW Police and court officials that Ferguson had been tampered with, possibly coerced or bribed by Maguire to change his testimony. Despite these suspicions, the lack of conclusive proof compelled the judge to dismiss the case.
Relieved by his unexpected acquittal, Hall, along with Tom Wade and Maguire, decided to indulge in a night of celebration in Orange. As they left the town in jubilant spirits, they encountered Bacon and Ferguson, an interaction that was undoubtedly charged with tension in light of the day’s proceedings. Maguire recalled departing orange after the court case:
"About three miles along the road we overtook Bacon and Ferguson. As we bore them no malice, we entered into conversation with them, and we all rode together for 40 miles."
The verdict, however, ignited indignation in R.B. Mitchell, a court official in Forbes and the son of the famous explorer and Surveyor-General of NSW, Sir Thomas Mitchell. Disturbed by Hall's acquittal, Mitchell composed a vehement letter, condemning what he saw as a blatant miscarriage of justice. His intense feelings about the case persisted up to the time of Hall's death, during which he seized the moment to voice his ongoing displeasure with the outcome of the trial. (See article right, a must-read. Open link in new tab to enlarge.)
Author's Note: From the 19th century to the present day, numerous authors and historians have attempted to minimise or negate Ben Hall’s involvement in criminal activities. These accounts often portray Hall as merely an unfortunate bystander, caught up in circumstances beyond his control, rather than an active participant in bushranging.
A specific group of sympathisers has worked to revise history, frequently disputing eyewitness testimonies and official records that implicate Hall in various crimes. This trend of historical reinterpretation is exemplified by a 1934 article from the Scone Advocate, which claims that Hall’s arrest for the Bacon robbery was largely the result of fears held by James Taylor and Bridget Hall, rather than substantial evidence of wrongdoing.
This revisionist narrative aligns with other posthumous portrayals of Hall, which depict him as a conflicted man, haunted by his past actions. However, what exactly tormented him remains unclear.
Was it the ghost of Mrs. Hall?
Was it guilt over his crimes?
Or was it simply the inevitable consequences of his choices?
The old adage "if you lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas" seems to best describe Hall’s life, challenging the romanticised notion of him as a benevolent and honest man. Despite attempts to reframe his legacy, official records and contemporary accounts paint a very different picture—one that cannot be ignored.
Undoubtedly dramatic sympathy to justify the unjustifiable, as the 'Scone Advocate' attempts to portray; "but the wrong which Taylor had done did not rest there. Whether on his own initiative or at the instigation of the fly-by-night wife, is not known. Possibly it was a mutual, conspiracy born of fear, to get the outraged husband out of the way lest he might follow the traitorous pair and be avenged. In any case, Taylor supplied spurious information to the police at Forbes, implicating Ben Hall, in a recent bushranging exploit.
Soon after came the Easter meeting at the Wowingragong racecourse, out from Forbes, and it was here that Sir Frederick Pottinger, Bart., head of the police district centered on Forbes, decided to act on the false information secretly supplied by the traitorous Taylor, and in the full publicity of the race assemblage, he arrested Ben Hall on a charge of highway robbery underarms. The meeting was amazed, left breathless, as the news raced about the course. It was impossible — that decent, likeable, well-respected young fellow charged with bushranging.
This amazement was one of the surest indications of his innocence Bushranging was so woven into the social fabric of the district and the period, and its practitioners had so many sympathisers, assistants, bush telegraphs, and such, while so many, others not actually concerned were passively acquiescent of these activities, that it would have been impossible for Ben Hall to take any part without the fact being generally known. His arrest created much indignation and served to deepen the conspiracy of silence which constituted such a barrier between the police on one side and the bushrangers and citizenry on the other. It served also to increase the contempt in which the police were then held."
The practice of offering incentives to witnesses to change their
testimonies was relatively common among the poorly paid workers and
carters of that era. For instance, a sum of £50, which could
considerably extend a worker’s means, is purported to have been the
amount John Maguire paid to Ferguson to alter his statement.
Unfortunately, the transcript of the Orange court proceedings no longer
exists. However, it is generally believed that William Bacon, a
respected businessman who also testified, stood to gain nothing and risk
losing much from his involvement. As he reportedly declared during the
initial hearing:
"I swear positively that the prisoner (Hall) is the man; I cannot be mistaken-when he robbed the drays some chaff passed between us with respect to a woman I knew he was acquainted with; my loading was for Mr. Greig, storekeeper on these diggings, for whom I have carried, almost exclusively, more than fourteen months; I have not yet been paid for the loading."
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| R.B. Mitchell c. 1882. Courtesy Penzig Collection. |
"On assisting Ben in his trouble, I did so believing him innocent of any crime. It cost me a tidy sum; and, moreover, was a bad day for me, as I left the impression with the police that I had tampered with witnesses."
Despite Hall’s acquittal, the trial's aftermath continued to stir controversy. Maguire claimed to have overheard a conversation between the presiding judge, Mr. Casey, and their defence counsel, Mr. Lee, in which Judge Casey admitted his personal belief in Hall's guilt, despite the jury's verdict. This revelation was startling, casting further doubt on the integrity of the trial and suggesting that the outcome was influenced by underhanded tactics, including the alleged financial corruption of a witness.
"After the court was cleared the judge and our counsel, Mr Lee, were walking to the hotel to dinner. I was just behind them. I heard the judge say that he believed Hall was guilty. Mr Lee said, "I was paid well to defend him, and I did so, by getting him off." The judge replied, "Mr Lee, it was not you that did it — it was done outside." Next morning our party rode home jubilant—all but Ben Hall, who had celebrated the victory by getting immovably drunk. Ben Hall, and Tom Wade (Ben's half-brother) left for Forbes."
After his trial, Ben Hall, celebrated the victory by getting immovably drunk. The next morning Ben Hall, Youngman, Maguire and Tom Wade (Ben's half-brother) left for Forbes. About three miles along the road, they overtook Bacon and Ferguson. As they bore them no malice, they all entered into conversation while riding together for 40 miles. Ben Hall returned to Sandy Creek, seemingly resuming a normal life after narrowly escaping conviction. However, his destiny was still unfolding, and it wasn’t long before he would once again court fate. Before his legal troubles, Hall had taken a leisurely trip to Lambing Flat, where he met Susan Prior, a 17-year-old from Tasmania. Charmed by her, he brought her back to Sandy Creek, where she moved in and eventually started a romantic relationship with Hall, leading to her pregnancy.
The Sandy Creek homestead was already teeming with activity, home to Hall’s brother, Bill, his wife, Ann, and their two children, Mary and John. It also served as a regular meeting place for Frank Gardiner and his band of bushrangers.
Upon hearing of Hall’s acquittal, Gardiner, also known as 'The Darkie', made his way to Sandy Creek. As recounted in Maguire’s memoirs, Gardiner visited to offer Hall an apology for his inadvertent role in entangling him in the robbery, adding yet another layer of complexity to the relationships and dynamics at Sandy Creek.
After his trial, Ben Hall, celebrated the victory by getting immovably drunk. The next morning Ben Hall, Youngman, Maguire and Tom Wade (Ben's half-brother) left for Forbes. About three miles along the road, they overtook Bacon and Ferguson. As they bore them no malice, they all entered into conversation while riding together for 40 miles. Ben Hall returned to Sandy Creek, seemingly resuming a normal life after narrowly escaping conviction. However, his destiny was still unfolding, and it wasn’t long before he would once again court fate. Before his legal troubles, Hall had taken a leisurely trip to Lambing Flat, where he met Susan Prior, a 17-year-old from Tasmania. Charmed by her, he brought her back to Sandy Creek, where she moved in and eventually started a romantic relationship with Hall, leading to her pregnancy.
The Sandy Creek homestead was already teeming with activity, home to Hall’s brother, Bill, his wife, Ann, and their two children, Mary and John. It also served as a regular meeting place for Frank Gardiner and his band of bushrangers.
Upon hearing of Hall’s acquittal, Gardiner, also known as 'The Darkie', made his way to Sandy Creek. As recounted in Maguire’s memoirs, Gardiner visited to offer Hall an apology for his inadvertent role in entangling him in the robbery, adding yet another layer of complexity to the relationships and dynamics at Sandy Creek.
Next day Gardiner called Ben, and expressed regret that Ben had got into trouble through him.
Hall shrugged it off in reply, stated:
Next time they take me they'll have something to take me for.
Following their meeting, Maguire noted that:
From that out, Ben and Gardiner were often together.
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Sydney Telegraph Office
c. 1862.Image courtesy NLA. |
As Hall’s ties with Gardiner deepened, reports of highway robberies and hold-ups began flooding the public consciousness. News and rumours of their exploits spread rapidly, reaching all corners of society. This surge in information was amplified by the advent of the electric telegraph—a revolutionary technology that allowed for near-instantaneous communication. In many ways, the telegraph was the internet of the 1860s, dramatically increasing both the speed and volume of crime reports while elevating Gardiner and his gang to a level of notoriety previously unseen.
The rapid dissemination of their exploits captivated the public imagination, transforming these bushrangers into folk heroes of the 1860s. Tales of their audacious crimes and fearless escapades enthralled people of all backgrounds, influencing children to mimic their antics in play and cementing their status as near-mythical figures.
Meanwhile, in Sydney’s political circles, the escalating wave of crime that had accompanied the gold rush posed a serious challenge. The increasing boldness of the bushrangers alarmed authorities, forcing them to confront the urgent need to restore order and reassert control over the colony’s rapidly expanding frontier.
There is scarcely a nook of the colony which has any population that does not possess its press.
The wires make us acquainted with every outrage committed on the great lines of communication almost as soon as it has happened. The various stages of prosecution cause a repetition of the same facts in different phraseology; and thus, a single crime becomes multiplied to the imagination of the reader, who loses the clue of identity, and takes every repetition as a now incident.³¹
Despite returning to his Sandy Creek operation and welcoming new love into his life, Ben Hall's recent close brush with the law had done little to deter him from his path of criminality. In fact, within weeks, Hall would find himself conspiring to commit one of the most audacious crimes in Australian colonial history — the robbery of the 'Forbes Gold Escort'.
Gold, it has been said, is at the root of all evil. Dating back to the days of the Egyptian Pharaohs some 5,000 years ago, gold has been synonymous with power and prestige. It has been the makings of Kings and Queens, and has offered even the poorest the potential for instant, life-changing wealth. In the Australian colonies, this coveted precious metal not only upset the societal status quo, but also transformed countless humble stockmen and farmers into overnight millionaires.
In its wake, the allure of gold sparked an immigration boom. From the Americas to Europe and China, tens of thousands flocked to Australia, eager to stake their claim in the golden opportunity. Ships arrived in thousands, with them the hopes and dreams of countless fortune seekers adding to the burgeoning population of a colony not quite 74 yrs old. It was a time that irrevocably altered the landscape of the Australia. The influx now lay at the feet of Ben Hall and the wealth associated with feeding the droves of new citizens pouring into the Lachlan from his herd.
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| A NSW mounted gold escort preparing to depart. Image courtesy NLA. |
In this milieu Hall's new acquaintance by 1861, was in love. Frank Gardiner began to have thoughts of abandoning his life of crime. The daily loot of cash, jewellery, and gold he stripped from his unfortunate victims no longer seemed to satisfy his needs. The constant challenge of living rough was becoming increasingly unbearable, and even his safe havens as in Catherine Brown's home were fraught with danger and the growing monotony of life with a six gun, not to mention the escalating costs fanned the idea of a great haul, a one off.
However, with the constant threat of betrayal and the NSW police on his shoulder, Gardiner's audacious exploits garnered him notoriety and regular coverage in the press. Such publicity, while bolstering his infamous reputation, also provided the police with valuable leads for his capture. Gardiner's ability to elude the authorities was indeed bewildering. He even went so far as to pen letters to newspapers, boldly highlighting his knack for moving freely among the police undetected.
Three of your troopers were at a house the other night and got drinking and gambling till all hours. I came there towards morning when all was silent. The first room that I went into I found revolvers and carbines to any amount, but seeing none as good as my own, left them. I then went out, and in the verandah found the troopers sound asleep. Satisfying myself that neither Battye nor Pottinger were there, I left them as I found them, in the arms of Morpheus. - Frank Gardiner.
In light of this, the monotonous routine of profitless robberies, where after paying off those who sheltered him, drove Gardiner to concoct a plan. His goal was to secure a substantial fortune in gold, grabbing the financial foundation he desired to start anew with his beloved Catherine Brown. This fresh life he envisaged was far removed from the watchful eyes and familiar haunts of the Lachlan region.
With audacity Frank set into motion plans to orchestrate an audacious heist of Her Majesties Royal Mail Escort. Over several months, he had been observing the movements of the gold escorts in and around the Forbes and Lambing Flat goldfields. He noted their routes, departure times, and the amount of gold each coach carried. His task was facilitated by the fact that these details were often published in the local newspapers.
Gardiner may have been inspired by a daring and highly publicised robbery in Victoria back in 1853. A private gold escort, heavily guarded by the Victorian police and transporting gold from the McIvor diggings to Bendigo, was ambushed and robbed by a gang of six men. Splitting into two groups, one attacked the police while the other seized the gold. In the ensuing action, four police officers were wounded. The event created quite a sensation. The gang managed to escape with over 2,300 ounces of gold and £800 in cash.
Meanwhile, as Gardiner was gathering information for his heist, the local newspapers he had been reading began to express serious concerns about the inadequate police protection afforded to the escorts. On 30th January 1862, the 'Western Examiner' voiced its worries:
Fully aware of the concerns raised by the 'Western Examiner', Frank Gardiner was emboldened. He knew that the limited police guard could easily be overwhelmed, and this gave him the confidence to finalise the details of his audacious plan. John Maguire, a close associate who witnessed the events both before and after the heist, vividly recalls Gardiner's ambitious scheme:
All Gardiner needed was the perfect location to stage his ambush on the gold escort. In response to this need, new accomplice Ben Hall and Charters proposed the ideal spot following discussions about various potential locations. The area needed to be relatively deserted, away from the well-trodden path between Lambing Flat and Forbes. It was suggested the Eugowra Rocks, a vast landscape scattered with large granite rocks and boulders flanking the road that the escort would traverse between Forbes and Orange. Ben's familiarity with this particular area stemmed from his numerous trips there with his close friend, Daniel Charters as Charters sister Agnes held the licence to a hotel at Bandon a short distance from the proposed robbery site. This proposed location was also part of a conversation including Maguire, as recounted by Tom Richards:
Bill Hall, Ben's elder brother, presented a candid account of the pre-planning activities and eventual departure for the Eugowra Rocks in a series of interviews conducted by Jack Bradshaw in 1912 for 'Frank Gardiner, Ben Hall & Gang.' Bill did not hold back any details regarding the events, thereby dispelling any speculations that Ben was not an active and enthusiastic participant in Gardiner's schemes. William lived at Ben's home.
In the meantime, as the bushrangers set off for Eugowra, preparations were underway in Forbes on the morning of June 15th, 1862, for the Escort coach to embark on its ill-fated journey. Typically, Sergeant McClure would be in charge of overseeing the Escort; however, in this instance, temporary command was handed to Sergeant Condell. Condell was slated to travel to Sydney for drill instruction, marking his transition from the foot police to the mounted force. Thus, the stage was set for a sequence of events that would be etched in the annals of colonial history.
What's more, before the coach arrived at Eugowra on that fateful Sunday afternoon, it was reported that:
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| S.M.H. 8th May 1862. |
Gardiner may have been inspired by a daring and highly publicised robbery in Victoria back in 1853. A private gold escort, heavily guarded by the Victorian police and transporting gold from the McIvor diggings to Bendigo, was ambushed and robbed by a gang of six men. Splitting into two groups, one attacked the police while the other seized the gold. In the ensuing action, four police officers were wounded. The event created quite a sensation. The gang managed to escape with over 2,300 ounces of gold and £800 in cash.
Meanwhile, as Gardiner was gathering information for his heist, the local newspapers he had been reading began to express serious concerns about the inadequate police protection afforded to the escorts. On 30th January 1862, the 'Western Examiner' voiced its worries:
Lachlan escort has, for some time, past, formed a subject of comment here. It consists of four men only, and as if to facilitate their destruction by any gang of ruffians that may take it in their heads to "stick them up," they are cooped up, two in a row, in the vehicle containing the gold. It is pretty generally admitted that our whole escort system is faulty. The men should be mounted in order to be effective in an emergency. Under the present system what would be easier than for half a dozen determined fellows-of which there are numbers on the Lachlan-to fell a tree, and when the coach had pulled up, to fire into the escort, the robbers all the time undercover. Such things have occurred in these colonies since the discovery of gold and may occur again. It certainly shows a want of prudence on the part of the authorities to do things in this half-and-half way. What possible effective resistance could four armed men, cooped up in a coach, and placed in a row to be shot at, offer to the same number, undercover none whatever. On full consideration, it appears little short of recklessly jeopardising the lives of public servants, and indirectly holding out a premium to the gang of marauders who have so long infested these districts, to continue the present system.
Fully aware of the concerns raised by the 'Western Examiner', Frank Gardiner was emboldened. He knew that the limited police guard could easily be overwhelmed, and this gave him the confidence to finalise the details of his audacious plan. John Maguire, a close associate who witnessed the events both before and after the heist, vividly recalls Gardiner's ambitious scheme:
It was with Gardiner that the idea of taking the escort originated and took a fortnight to prepare for the attack. For some months before Gilbert and O'Meally were Gardiner's constant companions, and they had been talking about it together. They were getting full of the petty bailing-up business, and wanted to make a grand haul and then quit the country.
I was speaking to Maguire about the escort some two weeks previous at Forbes; he said what a good place the "Rocks" would be to stick up the escort.
With the location secured, Gardiner then set about gathering a team of willing accomplices. It was not a challenging task for Gardiner; the promise of abundant riches was a powerful motivator. Under Gardiner's leadership, he managed to assemble a team of seven men: John Gilbert, John O'Meally, Daniel Charters, Alex Fordyce, John Bow, Henry Manns, and Ben Hall. The final stages of preparation for the audacious assault were then set in motion and meticulously executed over several weeks. The gang would often meet at the homes of John Maguire and Ben Hall at the Sandy Creek station, with some members even setting up camp in the paddocks surrounding the station's homes.
Evidence which went to show that Maguire's house was the rendezvous of Gardiner and his gang, where the attack on the escort was planned.
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| William Hall. c. 1910. (Penzig) |
These assertions countered any insinuations that Ben Hall was somehow forcibly dragged into Gardiner's criminal activities. It became abundantly clear through these accounts that Ben Hall was deeply entrenched in the bushranging lifestyle.
Ben Hall knew the place well and had a good knowledge of the surrounding country. He was also appointed pilot. Ben Hall was likewise chosen to go into Forbes and inquire particulars as to the escort. Hall found out that the escort would be leaving Forbes on Sunday. Word was passed around for another meeting on the Friday before. True to their promise, the lot turned up on that day. After receiving instructions on how to act, they rode away, and camped that night near Mrs Feeley’s pub. - William Hall.
However, whether Hall and another went to Forbes, thought to be either Charters, Gilbert or Manns, to gather more firearms and the hatchets for breaking the gold boxes is vague. On the evening of the 13th June two of the men arrived at dusk at store-owner William Baldwyn's business to purchase the equipment. Under oath Baldwyn later stated:
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| Daniel Charters. c. 1862. Courtesy Mrs Fred Wells (Coloured by Author) |
William Baldwin, sworn : l am storekeeper; I was living at Forbes in June last; my store was opposite the Harp of Erin public-house kept by Patrick Gallen; I remember one Friday evening, the 13th June; on that evening I remember selling two double-barrelled guns to two young men; I noticed one of them; the other kept near the door, and I did not notice him so fully; I didn't remember ever seeing them before; they had some gold with them; they did not pay me in cash, but they went away and sold the gold, and came back and paid me in cash they also bought an American hatchet or tomahawk, and some other things were sold them by the shopman; this was between six and eight o'clock in the evening; it was light when they came, and dark when they went away. I have not seen either of them since to my knowledge.
Note: Although Baldwyn testified it is a wonder why the storeman wasn't called at the Eugowra trial as he dealt directly with the man purchasing the goods. Curious.
The stage for the audacious armed robbery was set a mere three miles northeast of the quaint hamlet of Eugowra, about 25 miles from Forbes, planned for the late afternoon of Sunday, June 15, 1862. During this planning phase, the deep-seated friendship between Dan Charters and Ben Hall seemingly enticed Charters into this daring scheme, a chance for a quick ascent to riches. Moreover, they needed crucial information and necessary equipment. Bill Hall shed light on Charter's eagerness to participate and shared how his brother Ben, along with Charters, journeyed to Forbes to secure the required supplies for the venture. Why again, Bill Hall wasn't called at the Special Commission in 1863 is strange due to his first hand knowledge of all that occurred before and after the Eugowra robbery.
When spoken to about it Charters said, “I am your Moses. A really good thing. To miss such a buss as this would cause me a shock in the stuffing of life.” “We knew this, old hoss, and that is why we called on you. Come over to us to-night. You and Ben Hall are required to go for the necessary equipment.” “I will do anything, lads, for my share of such a beautiful haul." Charters came to the camp and willingly agreed to do everything proposed to him. He and Hall started out the next morning for everything required and returned with six double-barrelled muzzle-loading guns, and moulds for making bullets. They also brought back with them black crape for making masks and other articles for disguise. After having dinner Hall and Charters went over to Jack Healey’s, where lived a young lad of 19 Henry Manns, and Charters persuaded him to join them also. At about 3 o’clock in the afternoon Ben Hall, Charters, and Manns joined the rest of the band. - William Hall.
Next Gardiner then ordered:-
Spoke to Charters and said: "Now, go and lead us through the bush to Eugowra and keep off the roads; if there are any fences we will chop them down. Charters knew every inch of the country and had never been away from it for a day, and took the party to a creek near Mr Clements station at Eugowra rocks. On Sunday morning, the gang crossed the creek and reached the Eugowra mountain, where the attack on the escort was to be made.
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| Foreground view of Escort Rock as Fagan would have seen on approach, 2013. My photo. |
The escort left Forbes on Sunday morning, under the immediate charge of sergeant Condell, seated on the box alongside the driver, Mr Fagan; the remainder of the escort, three men, were seated in the body of the coach; their names, were senior constable Moran, constable Haviland, and another constable, Rafferty a stranger on the escort. The treasure consisted of 2719 ounces of gold, and £3700 in cash; there were also the usual mails, which were heavy. The escort proceeded on its way without any unusual occurrence to warn them of impending danger; at about half-past 4 o'clock, on arriving at Coobong, a distance of 27 miles from Forbes, and immediately in the vicinity of Mr Clement's station, two teams were observed in the roadway, no uncommon circumstance. As the coach drew near, it became evident there was but one passage, and that between the obstructing teams, and a mass of broken, perpendicular rocks, overhanging the narrow passage; the peculiarity of the situation never for a moment excited suspicion, but the driver brought his horses into a walk, in order to steer between the drays and the rocks.³²
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View from behind
Eugowra Rock
as the coach
approached the hidden
bushrangers, 2013.
My photo.
|
Gardiner hid his men behind some large rocks by the roadside, having first forced a number of carriers to block up the road with their wagons. The long-expected coach came in sight. "Make way for the Royal mail," cried the driver John Fagan, as he noticed the teams on the road. There was no answer, and again he repeated the order. There was no answer but the echo of his voice.³³
"Make way for the Royal mail," As the echo of Fagan's voice faded, the crack of gunfire suddenly followed by a barrage of bullets splintering the coach's timber wounding some unsuspecting police officers, including Sergeant Condell. The rapid-fire startled the horses, which bolted, flipping over the gold coach to its side. The escorting troopers outgunned and, under intense fire, managed to retreat into the nearby scrub, where they covered the short distance to Mr Hanbury Clement's farm. Clement's had heard the gunfire and was in the process of investigating as the armed robbers Gardiner, Hall and company quickly descended on and ransacked the coach, clearing out with over £14,000 worth of gold and cash. Roughly $10,440,000 in today’s value. (Spot Gold 2024 $3,720 per ounce Aud)
The result of the successful attack and raking gunfire, Sgt Condell was shot in the ribs explains:
Upon encountering Hanbury Clements and his brother William, who were making their way towards the scene of the crime, the grazier assisted the injured police, who had managed to emerge from the bush. They were escorted to Clements' homestead, where they received immediate first aid. Following this, Hanbury embarked on a 25-mile ride to Forbes, the objective of his journey being to “carry intelligence of the affair”.
When word of the audacious heist reached the public, the entire colony was left in a state of shock. Instantaneously, Frank Gardiner became an infamous figure, his notoriety spreading far and wide. His daring act had not just stolen gold, but had also brazenly challenged the existing law and order, leaving an indelible mark on the narrative of colonial Australia. 'Sydney Morning Herald', Saturday 21st June 1862:
Upon his arrival in Forbes, Hanbury Clements conveyed the startling news to a bewildered Sir Frederick Pottinger. Clements had covered the twenty-seven-mile distance overnight, completing the journey in just three hours. Reacting swiftly, Pottinger gathered his forces and left Forbes, reaching Clements' home by 6 a.m. on Monday, 16th June. Accompanying Sir Frederick were eleven troopers, twenty settlers, and two black trackers, forming an impressive posse.
As they advanced towards Clements' residence, they ran into the draymen who had witnessed the entire robbery. Pottinger interrogated them thoroughly, striving to reconstruct the events that led to what was one of the boldest robberies of that time.
The bushrangers long gone, Pottinger at Clements' Eugowra Station immediately began collecting
detailed accounts of the bold heist from the injured troopers, ensuring a
comprehensive understanding of the events. After evaluating their
injuries, he focused on his main goal: capturing the culprits. Pottinger
examined the damage to the coach and ordered its relocation to Clements
for repairs, to enable it to complete its journey. He then released his
trackers, setting them eagerly on the trail of the bushrangers. This
marked the beginning of the challenging pursuit of the robbers, who were
at that time still unidentified. However, Sir Frederick suspected that
Gardiner's influence was behind the events.
Following this incident, an inquest was held at the O'Connell Inn, overseen by Coroner Mr. John Templer. After careful review and evaluation of the evidence, the jury concluded that Haviland had "died from a wound inflicted by a bullet, with the intent or cause of the discharge remaining undetermined."
William Haviland's death thus became a sombre milestone as the first fatality in the recently organised and restructured NSW Police Force during active duty. His premature demise brought a poignant dimension to the narrative of these turbulent times.
Subsequently, the drivers of the bullock drays, who had been instructed by Gardiner to block the road and slow the coach's progress, eventually reached Forbes. Their arrival stirred a flurry of excitement and speculation about the dramatic events. Among them, Dick Bloomfield offered a firsthand account of the extraordinary disaster. His story would stand as a moving testament to the crime and those who carried it out.
Intriguingly, at the coming trial of the apprehended escort robbers in February 1863, the dray operators were never summoned as witnesses by either the defence or prosecution. Their testimony could have been pivotal in possibly saving the life of the convicted Henry Manns.
As the law enforcement continued their pursuit and the gang dispersed, Hanbury Clement penned a letter to a friend in Bathurst, providing a vivid account of the robbery and its repercussions. He commended Sergeant Condell for his level-headedness during the assault. Notably, Clements emphasised that three bullock teams obstructed the road, and the only member not masked was Frank Gardiner. Impressively, one of the guards managed to traverse the twenty-five miles back to Forbes through the wilderness. This excerpt from a letter received by a gentleman in Bathurst was published in the Free Press on June 24, 1862:
Interestingly, another direct witness to the infamous event was George Burgess, who was merely a thirteen-year-old boy at the time. Burgess is the sole person, apart from the law enforcement officers involved, to recount a detailed narrative of the happenings that fateful day at Eugowra in June 1862. Curiously, despite his firsthand knowledge, George was never summoned to give evidence. Here's a glimpse into the tale told by George Burgess:
There were about seven of us in all, including a swagman. In about 20 minutes’ time along came the gold escort of four horses, and manned by four police. A strange thing, two mounted troopers were a few miles ahead of the escort, and never knew, that it was stuck up until they reached Orange. When the escort came up against the barricaded road, about seven bushrangers, who were concealed behind the rocks, rushed out and fired a volley at the coach, saying "bail up". The shots frightened the horses, and they became frantic. Jack Fagan, the driver, jumped off his seat and tried to steady them, but they did not go 20 yards before the coach was upset, and all was confusion in a few minutes, all the occupants scampering through the scrub in the direction of Eugowra station, then owned by a Mr. Clements, who, after attending to the wounds of his visitors, galloped to Forbes to inform the police. In very quick time the coach was, rifled, the gold: — about 5000 ounces was packed on the coach horses, and when everything was in readiness one of the bushrangers came over to us, took our blindfolds off, broke open a case of grog from one of the teams, and gave us a drink and £1 each. With my £1, I ate lollies continuously for about two weeks. As we pushed our way on towards Eugowra we saw the bushrangers pass over the mountains, in the direction of the Weddin Ranges. In due course, we reached Forbes, a huge canvas town of nearly 30,000- people."⁴¹
Authors Note: George Burgess died on 12th June 1945; GEO. BURGESS PASSES AT 96. WITNESSED FAMOUS GOLD HOLD-UP; -"Molong 's oldest identity in the person of Mr George Burgess, of Hospital Hill, passed away on Tuesday night, at the grand old- age of 96 years and 4 months. Born at Bathurst in 1849, he came to Molong in 1860 and has resided here almost continuously for 85 years. The late Mr Burgess worked for years at shearing and other bush work. When the late John Black opened his flour mill in 1876, he was an engine driver for over 25 years. He then conducted a bakery business in Bank Street for many years until he retired. His wife predeceased him some years ago, and he is survived by two sons, George (Wellington), Alfred (Sydney), and one daughter, Miss Annie, who nursed him to the end with the fortitude and patience of a saint. The other daughter Jessie (Mrs Rodgers), is deceased. Three brothers survive — Harry (Manildra, 85), Frank (Manildra, 82), James (Parkes, 80). Unlike most old people, Mr Burgess' mind was as vivid and as clear as any man of 30 years of age. George Burgess was the only living individual who witnessed the greatest gold robbery in Australia—the Eugowra Escort Robbery in June 1862."⁴²
The colonial populace in review was shocked, and the press was astounded at the apparent ease of the heist. They vehemently criticised the Cowper Government, pointing out its failure to contain the escalating lawlessness that was infiltrating larger parts of NSW, particularly the Western Districts. As a result, the NSW Police faced intense scrutiny and pressure. The press, sensing a potential political scandal, were demanding immediate arrests.
Fortunately for the beleaguered police, they were able to claim a significant victory within days of the robbery when Sgt Charles Sanderson, accompanied by Senior Constables Armour and Burke, Constables Powell and Westhead, and the tracker Charlie, discovered the gang's hideout near Ben Hall and John Maguire's homes at Wheogo and located atop Wheogo Hill, some 32 miles from Forbes and 60 miles from Eugowra, the hideout was strikingly close to Gardiner's lover Catherine Brown on Wheogo Station some half mile west from the hill.
Sanderson's determination to head straight for Ben Hall's residence clearly indicated that the police harboured suspicions about Hall's alleged connections to bushranging activities. However, when they arrived, Hall was absent, at that moment he was a short distance away atop Wheogo Hill, counting his ill-gotten gains.
Sanderson's track record as a diligent trooper was invaluable to the Forbes police at this time. He had proven his mettle during the Chinese riots at Lambing Flat in 1861, serving as a right-hand man to Captain Zouch. His commitment to maintaining law and order contrasted starkly with the behaviour of others who were quick to abandon their duties in pursuit of instant wealth at the goldfields. Nonetheless, despite these challenging times, dedicated men like Charles Sanderson were emerging as stalwarts, forming the backbone of the police's efforts to combat the rampant crime wave.
The gang having retreated to their hidden sanctuary atop Wheogo Hill, skillfully covering their tracks from Eugowra led by Daniel Charters, and later testified in court on how the spoils of their daring exploit were divided. He revealed that, even before the robbery, Gardiner had stashed weighing scales and necessary supplies on the hill, anticipating their triumphant return.
Under the leadership of Sgt Sanderson, the police were instantly intrigued upon spotting a rider abruptly turn and gallop away while at Hall's hut. As darkness fell Sanderson set off in pursuit. In their frenzied chase, the police reached the foot of Wheogo Hill, watching as their quarry ascended the crest.
However, as the years passed and the evidence surrounding the chase from Ben Hall's residence grew murkier, a strong indication emerged that Johnny Walsh was the rider whom Sanderson noticed and pursued.
Charles Sanderson upon his retirement in 1903, reflected on his search for the gang, recounting his actions independent of Sir Frederick Pottinger. He detailed his decision to head for Hall's home and his ultimate success in securing the gold laden packhorse. His account, published in 'Old Times' in May 1903, provides an intriguing account of the dramatic events.
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Sgt James Condell. Coloured by me.
|
When the first volley came, I felt I was hit in the side; I put my hand to my side, and found a hole in my coat and blood coming from it; when I got to Mr, Clements' I examined my side, and found there were two holes in it; about 2½ inches apart; the holes were of the same size; they were in a position so that a bullet going in at one would go out at the other. Both holes bled; Sir Frederick Pottinger saw the wound four or five hours after.
Sr. Constable Henry Moran was wounded in the groin explains:
I turned, and to the right, on the rocks, I saw four men in front and two behind them; they had guns pointed down at us; I heard the word "fire," and a volley was fired; I was wounded, and I called out to my mates, "lookout, I'm wounded;" we fired in return, and the horses took fright and ran up a shelving rock, and I was flung wounded out of the coach; constable Haviland assisted me to get out of the way, and I afterwards got to Clements' station. I was wounded in the testicle.
However, for Condell and Moran, the wounds upon further investigation were not considered life-threatening. Constables Haviland and Rafferty providentially appeared unhurt, including the coach driver, Mr Fagan, who in turn had been very lucky as many whizzing bullets passed through his hat and coat. The whip or driver of the coach John Fagan describes his close encounter:
However, for Condell and Moran, the wounds upon further investigation were not considered life-threatening. Constables Haviland and Rafferty providentially appeared unhurt, including the coach driver, Mr Fagan, who in turn had been very lucky as many whizzing bullets passed through his hat and coat. The whip or driver of the coach John Fagan describes his close encounter:
"I was mail-driver of the escort on the 15th; I had four horses in my coach; I lost some of the horses in the attack; they were the property of Ford and Co,; Phil. Mylecharane was one of the owners; I was in the coach when it was attacked; I then lost all four horses; next morning saw two of them at Clements', where they went after getting away; about a week after saw a black horse, one of the leaders, and afterwards at Forbes the other; it was at the Camp; a dark brown horse with a switch tail; I received it from Sanderson; I was not wounded, but a ball went through my hat and another through my coat; there were eight or ten bullets in the coach; the gold boxes were gone when we came back to the coach; the mail-bags were opened, and the contents scattered about; I lost two coats from the coach belonging to myself."
The men made their way to nearby Hanbury Clements' Eugowra station, some individually while Rafferty made for Forbes.
Authors Note; John Fagan died in 1912, and it was noted that he drove the coach when the memorable robbery of the escort occurred near the rocks at Eugowra. On that occasion, he was almost shot, a bullet perforating his hat as he ran for shelter from the flying shots of Gardiner, Ben Hall and Co., fired at the police escort, and himself.³⁴ In July 1863, Mr Fagan was a bus driver for a short period in Sydney. That hat is now in possession of his family, upon his death, Mr Fagan left an estate valued at £257 970 = $19,151,160 today.
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| Jack Fagan. c. 1900's. |
Upon encountering Hanbury Clements and his brother William, who were making their way towards the scene of the crime, the grazier assisted the injured police, who had managed to emerge from the bush. They were escorted to Clements' homestead, where they received immediate first aid. Following this, Hanbury embarked on a 25-mile ride to Forbes, the objective of his journey being to “carry intelligence of the affair”.
When word of the audacious heist reached the public, the entire colony was left in a state of shock. Instantaneously, Frank Gardiner became an infamous figure, his notoriety spreading far and wide. His daring act had not just stolen gold, but had also brazenly challenged the existing law and order, leaving an indelible mark on the narrative of colonial Australia. 'Sydney Morning Herald', Saturday 21st June 1862:
Our citizens are awaiting with some impatience the result of the efforts that are being made to get upon the trail of the villains implicated. The Escort consisted of 2067 oz. 18 dwts. of gold, and £700 in cash belonging to the Oriental Bank; 521 oz. 13 dwts and 6 grs. to the bank of New South Wales; and 129 oz. and upwards of gold, £3000 in cash, to the Commercial Bank.
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| Sub Commissioner for Lachlan Goldfield J.G. Grenfell. 1829-1866 Newspaper Image c. 1867. |
In a lesser-known event related to the day of the heist, it was disclosed that a few hours before the Gold Escort left Forbes for Orange, there were originally two additional passengers along with the police troopers. These were the Police Magistrate for Forbes, Captain Brown, who was a close friend of Captain M’Lerie, the Inspector-General of the NSW police, and the Gold Commissioner for Forbes, Mr. Grenfell. Earlier in May, Grenfell had been responsible for sending Ben Hall to Orange to stand trial for the Bacon (Benkin) Dray Robbery. However, before the Gold Escort departed, both men opted to travel from Forbes to Orange on horseback instead of by coach; 'The Courier' Tuesday 8th July 1862:
Captain Brown and Mr Commissioner Grenfell were to have come down by the escort, but owing to special instructions from Inspector General M'Lerie, they came on horseback and were some miles in advance of the escort when the attack was made. These
gentlemen arrived in Orange on Monday forenoon, and took their
departure for Bathurst in the mail.
Whether as the gang waited for the approaching coach and before blocking the road, the robbers watched the two men pass by is unknown.
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| Hanbury Clements. c. 1881. Private Source. First time published. |
As they advanced towards Clements' residence, they ran into the draymen who had witnessed the entire robbery. Pottinger interrogated them thoroughly, striving to reconstruct the events that led to what was one of the boldest robberies of that time.
The troopers fell across the owners of the bullock-teams, who had been stuck up by the bushrangers. The unfortunate men state that they had been made to lie upon the ground, face downwards, for several hours; and that whilst the firing was going on between the bushrangers and escort they were exposed to the bullets. After urgent entreaty, they were removed from this perilous position by the bushrangers.
About six o'clock yesterday morning Sir F. Pottinger, with eleven troopers, twenty settlers, and two trackers got on the track of the bushrangers. About three miles from the coach they found, near a camp fire, the gold boxes, which had been opened.³⁵
Discovering the remnants of the daring robbery, Sir Frederick Pottinger showcased his tactical expertise by quickly splitting his forces, allowing them to cover a wider area in their unyielding search for the bushrangers.
As word of the robbery spread throughout the colony, the machinery of justice sprang into action. Troopers from surrounding districts were rapidly deployed and converged on the area, reinforcing the teams already scouring the harsh terrain for the perpetrators. This swift and organised response highlighted the seriousness of the situation and the determination to capture those responsible.
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| Hanbury Clements station Eugowra. Bailliere's New South Wales Gazetteer and Road Guide, 1866 |
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| NSW Police Gazette, August 1862. |
As word of the robbery spread throughout the colony, the machinery of justice sprang into action. Troopers from surrounding districts were rapidly deployed and converged on the area, reinforcing the teams already scouring the harsh terrain for the perpetrators. This swift and organised response highlighted the seriousness of the situation and the determination to capture those responsible.
Early on Tuesday morning, Mr Superintendent Morrisset, with a detachment of six troopers, passed through this town en route for the scene of attack; and on Wednesday morning a couple of troopers from Stoney Creek also set out for the same destination. On the arrival of the Forbes mail-in Orange, on Wednesday, we were informed that two troopers belonging to Sir Frederick Pottinger's party had returned to Forbes to obtain fresh horses, theirs being knocked up. These men report that they had tracked the bushrangers to within a short distance of Finn's public-house on the Lachlan, and within ten miles of Forbes. The rain had, however, set in, and destroyed the tracks. The black trackers could only discover the tracks of six horsemen.
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| Mr Charles Cropper. c. 1900. Never before published. |
Soon after the robbery the British press ran the story and named several key bushrangers involved in the events, including Frank Gardiner, Ben Hall, John Gilbert, and John O'Meally, along with others such as Alexander Fordyce, John Bow, and Dan Charters.
Authors Note: Mr Hanbury Clements died in January 1912; "The death occurred at "Kilmessan," Freeman's Beach, near Sydney, on January 11, 1912, of Mr Hanbury Clements passed away aged of 84 years. Deceased was the third son of the late Lieut. Hanbury Clements, R.N., and at one time owned Eugowra station, and at the time of the robbery of the gold escort, he, with Mr C. W. Cropper, the owner of Yamma station, took an active part in the pursuit of the bushrangers. Eugowra station, a few years after, was cut up, and the owner left these parts, being a single man at that time."³⁶
The robbery galvanised the surrounding area's influential citizens into action, demonstrating the unity in adversity that had been forged on this rugged frontier. Among them were Mr. Suttor, Mr. Clements, and Mr. Cropper, the owner of Yamma Station. Mr. Cropper, a long-time advocate for eliminating the bushranging menace, threw himself wholeheartedly into the pursuit.
As the search parties scoured the landscape, the perpetrators – Ben Hall, Charters, and Gardiner – adroitly evaded their pursuers, making their way towards the relative safety of Wheogo Hill, a stone's throw away from Hall's homestead. The seeming insouciance of their retreat spoke volumes about their intimate knowledge of the terrain and the confidence they had in their ability to outwit the law.
As the search parties scoured the landscape, the perpetrators – Ben Hall, Charters, and Gardiner – adroitly evaded their pursuers, making their way towards the relative safety of Wheogo Hill, a stone's throw away from Hall's homestead. The seeming insouciance of their retreat spoke volumes about their intimate knowledge of the terrain and the confidence they had in their ability to outwit the law.
Mr. Cropper's in detail recounted their tireless efforts in pursuit and vividly portrays a community on high alert, determined to bring these outlaws to justice.
"I live about fifteen miles from the Eugowra rocks. I recollect hearing of the escort robbery, and on the night of the 15th, I went in search of the robbers, with Mr. Clements, and my stockman. We went first to Mr. Clements' station. On the following morning, we set out to Eugowra rocks. From Eugowra rocks to the junction of the creek with the Lachlan River is about ten miles; the crossing place is near Newell's. At the back of the rocks, and on the bank of the river, were the only two places where we saw that horses had been tied; the rocks lie to the east of the road; there is a mountain between the road and where the horses had been tied at the rocks. The escort in coming from Forbes would have the rocks on the right hand. We saw traces there of the coach, and of men. We next went over the range and saw tracks up a path. We found tracks for about a quarter of a mile, when we came on some boxes and red comforters; there were four iron boxes broken open; there was the remains of a fire, and portion of burnt comforters; we then got on the tracks of horses; there were shod horses among them; we crossed a creek and got to a pine scrub; the tracks then went to the Canowindra road, and on by the side of a fence to the Eugowra Creek again; I was running the right hand track which led down the creek to a place where the horse had evidently slipped; I went down from my horse, and in the bed of the creek found a bottle of Old Tom; we followed on and joined the other persons tracking, and further on we crossed a creek, and on to a fence, where the rails were cut down; the mortice-holes were cut; we passed through, and followed the tracks till we got on to the Orange road; the tracks ran down the road a little way, and then went off to the right, as if in the direction of Forbes or my own place; after going some distance, the tracks bore in towards the river again, and kept along the bank; we saw no teams there; when we got on to the Forbes Road, we saw some teams; the tracks went near the teams, passing through two paddocks; the tracks went in a zigzag sort of way, and it was after passing the slip panels that we saw the teams; we saw where the tracks crossed the river, and on the other side we saw the remains of a small fire and where horses had been tied; this was in Newell's paddock; the fire was close to the river bank; we found here some beef on a bone and some envelopes; we followed the tracks across Newell's paddock and into another paddock through slip rails; the tracks went crooked, and led away to the left of Mr. Suttor's.
The tracks turned off from where the dray was camped; we followed them down nearly parallel with the road; we ran them down that night to within five miles of Fenn's public-house; we followed them up till dark when we could no longer see; in the morning we resumed the track; it led in the direction of what I believe to be the Wheogo Mountain; after this, two or three days after, I noticed that my fence was cut in the way the other fence was; there was a track through my fence which led in the direction of Eugowra; the other tracks that I now speak of led from Eugowra; the track came near Newell's; they led past a sawyer's hut. We tracked a distance of about forty miles; We ran them down that night to within five miles of Fenn's public-house; Fenn's from Eugowra rocks to the junction of the creek with the Lachlan River is about ten miles; the crossing places it near Newell's, the first day we tracked a distance of about forty miles. In a straight line, the course we tracked would be about 20 or 25 miles. Near the Eugowra rocks, when starting, I found a spur and a coat; I saw where horses had been tied; the spot was about a quarter of a mile behind the rocks."³⁷ (Remembering that Newell is Charters' brother in law.)
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| Eugowra Escort Coach. Photograph was taken in 1917 at Orange, by W. H. Burgess. This was also the coach in which Cost Haviland died. Many thanks to Dick Adams. |
Authors Note; The image right was believed photographed in the yard of Dr Roberts property in Moulder St Orange 1917 and is of a Concord Coach the property of Ford & Mylecharane. John Fagan the driver at the time of the robbery stated; "I had four horses in my coach; I lost some of the horses in the attack; they were the property of Ford and Co,; Phil. Mylecharane was one of the owners." The reverse of the photograph states "This photograph was taken by me, W.H. Burgess of Calias, Bay Road, North Sydney. It is of a stage coach owned by Cobb & Co., and was stuck-up in the vicinity of Euganda by Gardiner's bushranger gang. At the time it had the gold escort with it. The bit of wood accompanying this photo was taken by me from the body of the coach as it stood in 1917 in the backyard of Dr. Robert's of Moulder St., Orange. W.H. Burgess." (Source: 'A Yankee Mounted Trooper' by Dick Adams.)
Constable Moran described the tragedy at Haviland’s inquest into his death:
"We left Mr Clement’s yesterday morning; the sergeant was on the box with Haviland, and a passenger in the coach; deceased said during the day he would not come on the escort any more unless there was a mounted party along with us; deceased had no spirits or wine that I know of; he was perfectly sober; yesterday evening between six and seven o’clock we arrived at Orange; we had taken up a lady passenger, with her servant and child; I and a lady and the other male passenger were sitting with our backs towards the driver; the female passenger was sitting in the middle; we heard the report of a revolver after leaving the Orange Post-office; the female passenger exclaimed, “My God the man is shot!” Haviland was sitting at the back of the coach opposite me; I said “No! It can’t be!” I saw the flash from the revolver in a line with deceased’s chest; the female put her hand over first; I then put out my hand and felt the blood pouring down quite warm; I said, “he is shot in the stomach”; the coach was going on all the time; I said it might be from the sergeant’s rifle; he said “no it could not be”’ in reply to a question from the sergeant I said deceased was shot; in the coach, there was my revolver, and a revolver case empty."³⁸
In the sombre aftermath of the accidental shooting, Haviland's lifeless
body was moved to a bed at the inn, prompting an urgent request for
medical help. Dr. Warren was quickly called to the scene. After a brief
examination, he confirmed the tragic outcome. Constable Haviland, a
servant of the law, had died prematurely under tragic circumstances. Dr.
Warren's solemn declaration deepened the sorrow of those gathered,
turning the inn into a temporary place of mourning. At the inquest, Dr.
Warren testified:
"Last night, about seven o'clock, I was sent for to see deceased. Arriving at Dalton's inn, I found him lying on the bed in the verandah-room, with blood- running out of his mouth and out of a wound in his neck; he was quiet dead; this morning, I traced the course of the bullet — it entered the throat below the chin — just above pomun-Adami its course was backward and slightly upward— passing through the larynx and through the pharynx back to the spine at the junction of the skull; I believe the immediate cause of death was effusion of blood into the windpipe; the wound would cause almost instant death; it is my opinion he might have been stooping down to pick up the pistol, it being just the close of the journey."
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| Mrs Haviland's gratuity. |
William Haviland's death thus became a sombre milestone as the first fatality in the recently organised and restructured NSW Police Force during active duty. His premature demise brought a poignant dimension to the narrative of these turbulent times.
Amongst other observations made by the deceased prior to the tragic event, was one to the effect that so soon as he arrived at Orange, he would telegraph to his wife in Sydney, to allay any alarm she might entertain for his safety.
Tragically, William Haviland's death left his wife and two children without a husband and father. His untimely demise was an indirect result of the chaos instigated by Ben Hall, setting the stage for the unfortunate accident. In another sorrowful twist linked to the legacy of the 1862 Eugowra attack, Henry Moran, who had survived the ambush, met a similar fate years later. At the age of 63, he passed away in 1890 after falling from a cart at Hilton Grove, Hartley. The long-lasting impacts of the daring actions initiated by Hall continued to affect the lives of those involved, long after the events themselves had faded.
Tragically, William Haviland's death left his wife and two children without a husband and father. His untimely demise was an indirect result of the chaos instigated by Ben Hall, setting the stage for the unfortunate accident. In another sorrowful twist linked to the legacy of the 1862 Eugowra attack, Henry Moran, who had survived the ambush, met a similar fate years later. At the age of 63, he passed away in 1890 after falling from a cart at Hilton Grove, Hartley. The long-lasting impacts of the daring actions initiated by Hall continued to affect the lives of those involved, long after the events themselves had faded.
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| "Make way for the Royal Mail." Sketch by Percy Lindsay. c. 1935. |
Since our last we have little to communicate in reference to the robbery of the Escort which can enlighten the public mind, On Wednesday one of the bullock drivers who was stopped by the robbers arrived in Forbes, and reported that his own team and another was stopped and drawn across the road two hours before the Escort arrived, when the bandits made free with two bottles of spirits, and placed the drivers some distance from the rest, compelling them to lie faces downwards.⁴⁰
As the law enforcement continued their pursuit and the gang dispersed, Hanbury Clement penned a letter to a friend in Bathurst, providing a vivid account of the robbery and its repercussions. He commended Sergeant Condell for his level-headedness during the assault. Notably, Clements emphasised that three bullock teams obstructed the road, and the only member not masked was Frank Gardiner. Impressively, one of the guards managed to traverse the twenty-five miles back to Forbes through the wilderness. This excerpt from a letter received by a gentleman in Bathurst was published in the Free Press on June 24, 1862:
"You will have heard, before this reaches you that the Escort was stopped, and of course robbed. It occurred at the head of the blind gully, on the right of the double gate. The Escort goes by Eugowra at about four p.m. I do not know whether you recollect a big rock in the gully, about twenty yards to the right of the road; from behind this a number of men (the troopers say fifteen) jumped up, all dressed in red, apparently red shirts, with red comforter on, night-cap fashion; They let drive at the guard at once. I was in the paddock on horseback, and, on bearing the firing, galloped over at once. I met Fagan, the driver, at the big stockyard, and asked him what was the matter. He said the troopers were all shot, and the coach and horses gone, but where he did not know. I went on, and met one of the troopers, who told me that he thought the others were killed. He was wounded in the side. Whilst talking to him, I saw two men at the top of the paddock; I went towards them, found they were two troopers, and brought them down, one of them was wounded in the region of the groin."
"The sergeant, or corporal, who was the only cool man of the lot, was wounded in the side, the ball having entered between the short ribs and passed through the flesh out again; another ball went through the arm of his jacket. Another out the rim of the driver's hat and a piece out of the crown. Another stuck in the wood of the seat. The coachman was fearfully frightened and jumped off the coach, the horses then ran away taking three of the guard with them until they dashed up the rocks when the men were thrown out and took to their heels. The road was blocked up by putting three bullock teams across. The fellows had blackened faces, excepting one who appeared to be the leader."
"I started at once to Forbes, and some time after my arrival the missing trooper made his appearance there, but knew nothing of his comrades, whom he supposed were all killed." - Hanbury Clements.
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| George Burgess. c. 1930's Very rare photo. Private Source. |
"My father had four horses and dray, and wished to take advantage of the great prices. In June 1862, he loaded up with one ton of hay, half-ton potatoes and five cwt. bacon, engaged Dick Bloomfield as driver, and I was sent as offsider or, as called in those days, his billy boiler; On the fifth day out, at about 11 o'clock; I went into a pine scrub about two miles, from Eugowra to cut a whip handle when I came out I saw the driver in conversation with a man wearing white moles and Wellington boots, with a red comforter round his head and his face blackened, who I afterwards heard was the notorious Frank Gardiner. He was leaning on a double-barrelled gun, and he said, "I want you fellows, come along". We then turned a corner in the road and came in sight of two bullock teams right across the road, ours was put in the same position and made a barricade. Our hats were pulled over our faces and tied in that position with handkerchiefs. My hat, which was an old cabbage tree one, had a hole in the crown, and I could see what was going on. We were placed behind a small rock and threatened, under pain of death, not to look up or remove our hats.
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Mr Penzig's re-drawn Map from the
originally sketched NSW Policeat the time of the Robbery.© |
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| Back to Molong Celebrations. 1928. |
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| The police original map of bushrangers track too and from Eugowra. Courtesy Bathurst Historical Museum. |
Fortunately for the beleaguered police, they were able to claim a significant victory within days of the robbery when Sgt Charles Sanderson, accompanied by Senior Constables Armour and Burke, Constables Powell and Westhead, and the tracker Charlie, discovered the gang's hideout near Ben Hall and John Maguire's homes at Wheogo and located atop Wheogo Hill, some 32 miles from Forbes and 60 miles from Eugowra, the hideout was strikingly close to Gardiner's lover Catherine Brown on Wheogo Station some half mile west from the hill.
Sanderson's determination to head straight for Ben Hall's residence clearly indicated that the police harboured suspicions about Hall's alleged connections to bushranging activities. However, when they arrived, Hall was absent, at that moment he was a short distance away atop Wheogo Hill, counting his ill-gotten gains.
Sanderson's track record as a diligent trooper was invaluable to the Forbes police at this time. He had proven his mettle during the Chinese riots at Lambing Flat in 1861, serving as a right-hand man to Captain Zouch. His commitment to maintaining law and order contrasted starkly with the behaviour of others who were quick to abandon their duties in pursuit of instant wealth at the goldfields. Nonetheless, despite these challenging times, dedicated men like Charles Sanderson were emerging as stalwarts, forming the backbone of the police's efforts to combat the rampant crime wave.
Sanderson thirty-two years of age, was a Cockney born and bred. In the year 1848, he joined the London police, then newly established by Sir Robert Peel and known as Peelers. He won rapid promotion and came to New South Wales in 1855 under three years' contract with the government. He was sent to the goldfields, liked the life and remained in the force after his three years had expired, being raised to the rank of senior-sergeant. A policeman to the core, by training and temperament, he was one of the most reliable officers in the force, steadfast in his duty, the scourge of criminals, as brave as a bulldog, and completely lacking in imagination, as a good policeman should be. There was a need for men like Sanderson to steady the police force at a time when constables were hard to recruit and harder to keep - for who would be a policeman at 5s. 6d. a day when fortunes were being made by diggers from the golden gravel? Dozens of constables had deserted their posts during the decade of golden glory. The substitutes, hastily recruited to cope with the ever-expanding population and increase of crime, were seldom satisfactory. Many a constable was dismissed for drunkenness and other vices. A policeman's lot was "not a happy one" in New South Wales in the Furious Fifties and Sensational Sixties. - Clune.
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| View from Gardiner's camp Wheogo Hill. Weddin Mountains in the foreground. Courtesy Peter C Smith |
After camping, Gardiner went down to some rocks, and brought back a pair of scales, some weights, and some grog; we remained there for that evening. On Tuesday night it rained; we rigged a tent with a blanket; we weighed the gold, rigging up three sticks to support the scales. I assisted along with the others; as Gardiner weighed the gold, he put the gold on a newspaper on a sheepskin; he also counted the notes; I heard him say there was £3561 in notes; he weighed the gold off in lots and said, "there was about 22 lbs. weight for each man." Each man's share was put up in lots; Gardiner shared out the gold and notes.
In its 28th June 1862 edition, the 'Bathurst Free Press and Mining Journal' offered a detailed account of the relentless police pursuit of the bushrangers. The report highlighted the law enforcement's path from Eugowra, passing by Ben Hall's residence, and culminating in a startling incident which sent the robbers scattering to the wind.
Starting from the scene of the outrage, the track was taken up and continued with various turnings and windings down the Lachlan, till they found themselves near Finn's public house, not far from the diggings. Here the track turned off to the left and made for the Pinnacle, near which the track was lost; the party, however, searched round and roundabout, and as night had set in by this time they had to give up the search camping where the track was last seen. Next morning they started, still in company with the black-fellow Charlie, taking the direction of a mountain named Wheogo; when near the place of a person named Ben Hall, the party came upon very recent tracks, apparently of a horse at full speed, well-shod, and well ridden, (a thing rather unusual in that out of the way part of the country) they kept this trail for some time till they came in sight of a man on horseback, who on getting a sight of the pursuing party went off at the top speed on his horse followed by the troopers also at full gallop. Our men continued the chase for two miles when the man they were pursuing appeared to have vanished into the side of a creek, the tracks suddenly ceased, on this deep creek both up and down, the pursuers came to a stand thinking the man might have jumped into the creek. On close search, however, he appeared to have leapt the creek at a bound, as his tracks were observable on the other side, the party crossed over, and took up the trail, which was followed up to the top of Wheogo mount, when at the back of Mr Walsh's station.
The newspaper continues:
In this camp were found various articles of bedding, bread and beef, and some tea ready-made and nicely warm, also the envelope of a letter bearing the Burrowa postmark. There were marks where several horses had been tied up to some trees. Circling round this camp, the troopers came upon the tracks of what appeared to be 5 horses, and these tracks were making for the dense pine scrubs surrounding the west point or entrance to the Weddin mountains. The broad trail was followed for a long time when on the party entering one of the densest scrubs of pine in that region, the black-fellow called out “me see him”. The pursuers charged after, but the fellows ahead were too quick for them, and making a short turn through the pines, were lost to the sight. Following on, however, a horse was observed without a rider, and thinking this might be some ruse, the pursuing party separated, and taking what cover they could find, and in expectation of a shot every moment, they bore down upon the horse, which turned out to be the pack horse of the flying bushrangers, and laden with a costly treasure; as when it was caught, a large amount of gold was found on it, supposed at the time to be some 1200 or 1500 ounces; the gold was in 4 bags and were lashed to a trooper's saddle, there were also 2 carbines strapped to the saddle; From this point, the tracks of only 4 horses were found, and these were followed all-round the Weddin, till it got dark, and then the party made the best of their way to Forbes, and gave up the recovered treasure, to the authorities.
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| View of Wheogo Hill from Deaths Lane. 2013. My photo. |
Charters would later give his account of this nerve-racking event, describing how the looming approach of the police caused a panic that resulted in the loss of the pack-horse carrying part of the stolen gold. In his testimony Charters claimed it was Gilbert who Sanderson pursued. However, that was knowingly incorrect. Charters Escort Robbers trial Sydney:
A lot of police coming from the direction of Hall's towards M'guire's. After that we all got ready to start; after we got ready, we could hear the tramp of the police horses coming up the mountain; we left the bottles and several other things; we had no time to shift them; we were then five in number myself, Gardiner, Gilbert, Fordyce, and Bow; we travelled through some thick scrub, and Gardiner had got off his horse to take a drink of spirits and water, when I heard the police horses behind us. Gardiner was with me. I looked back, and saw what I thought was a black-fellow on a white horse; he was about 400 yards behind me; I could just see him through the scrub. I pointed him out to Gardiner; he said, " O'Christ, here they are." I then cantered away; Gardiner called to me not to go away that way. Gilbert went in one direction, Fordyce in another; Gardiner was prodding his packhorse with the end of his gun to urge him along, till finding he could not get him along he left him. This was in a very scrubby place, close to the Weddin Mountains. Gardiner galloped after me, and said "pull up." He said, "he had lost the gold and it was a bad job." We asked to go back, as they might miss the pack horse; we turned, and looking through the scrub, saw three men on foot catching the horse. I went to Nowlan's; there were several patrons there, amongst others Johnny Welsh, Nowlan and his son.
Charles Sanderson upon his retirement in 1903, reflected on his search for the gang, recounting his actions independent of Sir Frederick Pottinger. He detailed his decision to head for Hall's home and his ultimate success in securing the gold laden packhorse. His account, published in 'Old Times' in May 1903, provides an intriguing account of the dramatic events.
On leaving Forbes, I took four men and a black tracker, with the object of moving in a different direction, as it was only natural to suppose such a large party of bushrangers would separate. I camped by the banks of the Lachlan, and as there were no tracks on the opposite bank, I presumed some of the men had made for the Weddin Mountains. When we reached Ben Hall's house near Wheogo, the tracker noticed a man riding from it for all he was worth. Surmising this was a bush telegraph, we followed him immediately, and in course of time, his tracks brought us to a camp, which had evidently been abandoned in a hurry. We pushed on as fast as we could and were soon rewarded by seeing a packhorse in the trees ahead. When we came up with it, we found four bags of gold, containing 1239 ounces, strapped to the saddle. It was then dark, and as we consequently could follow the tracks no further with them in that condition, we returned to Forbes, consoling ourselves that if we hadn't caught anyone, we had recovered part of the gold.
On the arrival of the little band with the treasure-viz., a pack horse carrying about 1600 z° of gold, two rifles and a trooper's coat, they were loudly cheered, and surrounded by some 3000 people, eager to learn the news and see how affairs stood. The horses and men appeared knocked-up, the black fellow who had served as tracker appearing the least fatigued, to judge by his self-satisfied and merry countenance.⁴³
Fortunately for Ben Hall, by the time the police arrived and departed Sandy Creek, he was already en route home, his share of the spoils secured. As Maguire noted, Hall had narrowly missed crossing paths with Sanderson and his men. It may also be probable that Hall observed the troopers in their chase and lay hidden. Undoubtedly a turn of events that saved him from immediate capture. This close shave highlighted the elements of chance and timing inherent in the outlaw lifestyle. Maguire noted of Ben Hall's windfall:
"He had 22lb of gold strapped to his saddle and £460 in notes in his pockets, he galloped down the other side of the hill until he found a nice, convenient hollow log. Into this, he thrust the whole of his share of the spoils. Then he coolly cantered away home as if nothing had happened. And he always pretended, even to myself and his other relatives and friends, that he knew nothing of the robbery."
Note: 22 lbs of gold equates to 325 oz. and is worth in 2024 $1,181,050 and £460 = $38,600 for a total of $1,281,050.
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| Johnny Gilbert. Coloured by me. |
However, unlike Sanderson, success Sir Frederick Pottinger proved elusive. After dividing his tracking teams, he led his group south, journeying as far as Hay, 225 miles from Eugowra, without so much as a trace of the suspected bushrangers. Pottinger held the belief that the robbers had come from Victoria. While he spotted signs of riders heading towards the Victorian border, he discerned they were not the men he was pursuing. Upon reaching Hay without the slightest indication of the bushrangers' presence, Pottinger decided it was time to return to Forbes. A despondent Pottinger, accompanied by Detective Lyons, civilian court official Mr Mitchell, and a tracker, Billy Dargin all recuperated a few days, embarked on the lengthy journey back to Forbes.
Note: Trackers were invariably discounted in articles that highlighted the police against the bushrangers. Pottinger's run to Hay undoubtedly included a tracker, most notably Billy Dargin, who was generally a constant fixture in Pottinger's patrols.
During their return journey, Mitchell -- son of the renowned explorer Sir Thomas Mitchell -- who had been riding a considerable distance ahead of Pottinger and Lyons, encountered three riders at Merool, near Temora. Mitchell did not recognise the riders, yet surprisingly, one of them turned out to be the notorious bushranger John Gilbert, accompanied by another of the escort robbers, Henry Manns, and Gilbert's older brother Charles, who had been employed in and around the Weddin Mountains, possibly at the Pinnacle Station.
Unbeknownst to them, as Pottinger rode up to the group and engaged Gilbert in conversation, he found himself speaking directly to one of the very individuals he was hunting. Pottinger, none the wiser, casually queried Gilbert about the quality of the horse he was riding.
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| Charles Gilbert. Private Source. |
Unbeknownst to them, as Pottinger rode up to the group and engaged Gilbert in conversation, he found himself speaking directly to one of the very individuals he was hunting. Pottinger, none the wiser, casually queried Gilbert about the quality of the horse he was riding.
Pottinger said to Gilbert: 'That's a nice looking horse you're riding, young man.' Gilbert replied 'Yes.' Asked if it was his own, Gilbert again replied 'Yes.' The inspector asked to be shown a receipt for the horse. Gilbert halted as if to produce it, but, standing in his stirrups, put spurs to his horse and galloped away.
In the ensuing chaos, the police unsheathed their revolvers and successfully apprehended Gilbert's two companions. Gilbert's brother Charles and Henry Manns, both of whom were using aliases at the time, found themselves in the hands of the law they had brazenly defied.
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| Marker commemorating the gunfight opposite Mrs Sproules Station. My photo 12/03/20 |
One of them, apparently, addressed himself principally to Sir Frederick Pottinger, saying, "I know you, you bl---y ba---rd, Pottinger: "I'll put a pill through you, you ba---rd," &c. Sir Frederick fired at this fellow three times, Mr Mitchell, at his side, being also fully occupied with their assailants, and discharging shot for shot.
Finally, those engaged in the assault on Pottinger fell back to the refuge of the Weddin Mountains. Gilbert, along with his brother, charted a course for Victoria, before eventually venturing onwards to New Zealand. (See Gilbert Page.) Manns, on the other hand, sought solace in his former refuge near Burrowa. However, within a month of the Merool conflict, Pottinger had a face-off with Hall at Sandy Creek, culminating in the latter's arrest.
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| The arrest of Ben Hall, William Hall, and Dan Charters, by Sir Frederick Pottinger depicted by Monty Wedd, from Bold Ben Hall. c. 1970's © |
Six weeks after the Eugowra robbery, on the 27th of July, 1862, Ben Hall was taken into custody along with his brother William Hall, his brothers-in-law John Brown (husband of Catherine Brown), John Maguire, and his close friend Daniel Charters. They were all apprehended at Sandy Creek. Pottinger had received reliable information regarding these men's knowledge and involvement in the events at Eugowra. The informant was Maguire's friend Tom Richards, who later served as a voluntary crown witness during the 1863 Sydney Escort Trials. Richards had been present during the planning stages of the Eugowra robbery at Maguire's.
Sir Frederick Pottinger recounted:
I apprehended Charters on the 27th July. He was having supper with Benjamin Hall and William Hall. It was after dark. No other man was present. I mentioned the charge. They expressed their surprise, and asked to be allowed to finish their supper. I took Charters and Benjamin Hall.
The enticing £1,000 reward and a pardon provided ample motivation to reveal the secrets and he was housed separately at the Forbes gaol to ensure his safety. Furthermore, it became clear that Bill Hall was also fully aware of the events surrounding Eugowra. His detailed recounting of the events to Jack Bradshaw revealed his complete knowledge of his brother's guilt. Indeed, Bill Hall was privy to everything.
Hearing afterwards of the robbery, he (Richards) was forced to combine the one set of facts with the other, and on this, before any charge was brought against him, he gave information to the police.
After the men's arrest, Charters explained his presence with Ben Hall in February 1863:
"I slept at Hall's on the Tuesday night and breakfasted there on the Wednesday morning. I had been there for several days before. Hall was gathering cattle; getting fat cattle for market, and I was there to get mine and my sister's cattle that might be brought in."⁴⁴
Regrettably, the arrests and the subsequent lengthy imprisonments would prove to be the final blow for Hall and Maguire's Sandy Creek station.
On Tuesday, last, at the Lachlan police-court, four men, named Benjamin Hall, William Hall, John Maguire, John Brown, and Daniel Charters, were brought up charged with being concerned in the late escort robbery. The only evidence taken was that of Sir Frederick Pottinger, who deposed to having received information to the effect that prisoners were concerned in the robbery; he prayed for a remand, for the purpose of obtaining further evidence. Mr Pendergast appeared for the prisoners, and applied for trial, but was refused, as was also bail. The prisoners were remanded accordingly.⁴⁵
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| Sir Frederick Pottinger. c. 1863. |
John Maguire (who was blind in his right eye) gives an eyewitness account in his memoirs, 'The Biography of a Reliable Old Native', of the happenings on their arrest:
Sir Frederick turned to the men and ordered them to put the handcuffs on me, two of the men (police) were then sent off to Browns, a similar mission was made to Ben Hall’s house where Ben and Charters were secured, about 4 o’clock the police decided to stay for the night, so my wife proceeded to get supper for the crowd. When bedtime came round Hall, Charters, Brown and I were handcuffed together and had to doss (sleep) in our clothes on a rough shakedown, whilst Sir Frederick took possession of the sofa, in the morning we were roused up and paired off again, after breakfast Sir Frederick gave orders to start for Forbes.
Maguire continued:
Each of us was now handcuffed singly and bidden to mount our horses. Our hands were then strapped to the pommel of the saddle, and with a trooper each holding our reins, Sir Frederick giving orders that should anyone appear on the road suspected of having intentions to rescue us, each trooper was to shoot his man dead.
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| Ben Hall & others court appearance August 1862. |
I often noticed Hall and Charters whispering together apart from the rest of the prisoners; I began to suspect that they knew something about the robbery.
Maguire also stated that he overheard Ben Hall tell Charters:
They haven’t found anything on us, and they can do nothing to us.
Maguire continues:
"We noticed Sir Frederick in conversation with James Newland, a brother in law to Charters, Sir Frederick then came and took Charters away. On his return Charters told us he was going to get bail whilst we could not, I watched Ben’s countenance, and noticed that he looked a bit upset when Charters got his freedom."
"Ben and I were now left alone together, and next morning he confided to me a full account of the robbery and the names of the men who took part, they were himself, Gardiner, young O'Meally, Gilbert, Charters, Bow, Fordyce and the only man I was not acquainted with-Henry Manns. This I declare, was the first time I really knew who the culprits were, although as I said before, I had my suspicions as to some of the gang, at any rate."
Maguire in his memior feigned knowledge, however, he was well aware of all the happenings before and post Escort Robbery:
"I remonstrated with Ben, as there had been no occasion for him to take that game on, but he said he had been run on to it by Gardiner."
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| Daniel Charters. c. 1862. |
I have had conversations with Maguire in regard to this matter while in the lock-up; but I had none with Hall whilst there. It was nothing particular, only about what a job it was to be kept in the lock-up on this account.⁴⁶
Note: The claim of innocence or knowledge about the robbery or its planning and Maguire's ignorance is not to be considered truthful.
Charters also rejected any suggestions that he had been offered a certain incentive to exclude Ben Hall and John O'Meally from the incident.
"I was not confined in the same cell as Ben Hall. I was under the same roof, but not in the same apartment. I was confined for about eight days at the same time as Hall. I had no communication with Hall at that time; nor had I any with him on this matter after my release, neither directly nor indirectly have I had any communication with O’Mealy or Hall relative to this matter. I will swear that I have not been offered a sum of money to leave their names out of the information I have given in regard to this robbery."⁴⁷
Again this contradicted Maguire’s statement regarding their arrest in his memoirs transcribed many years later.
Author's Note; Even 40 years after the Escort Robbery, Maguire attempted in his memoirs to be totally ignorant of the planning of the escort robbery. In fact, Maguire knew full well who the participants were in the robbery, as the whole affair was planned at his and Ben's residence. Even after the robbery, he was supplying the gang with food and equipment. After having been charged for his part in the robbery, Maguire was transported to Sydney for one of the most sensational trials in the history of the young colony and appeared before the special commission established for the escort trial and bushranging. The first escort trial took place in February 1863 with a result of a hung jury. The government immediately placed the defendants back in the dock for a second trial. After all the evidence was heard again, Bow, Fordyce and Manns were found guilty and sentenced to death. John Maguire was found not guilty by his peers (he was rearrested over the bond still outstanding for Youngman, which was paid by a benefactor). Manns would be the only bushranger from the escort robbery (see “In Company” page) to be executed and died a long and horrible death at the hands of the bungling hangman. Bow and Fordyce’s death sentences were commuted to life, whereby they served 12 years and ironically enough were released from prison with the man who had led them there…, Frank Gardiner. After the convictions and Maguire's acquittal, this sentiment was also noted, from; 'The Manaro Mercury, and Cooma and Bombala Advertiser', Friday 6th March 1863; "the Escort Robbers have been sentenced to death, except for Maguire, who is acquitted. I have no doubt he is the biggest scoundrel of the three. The evidence showed clearly enough, in my opinion, that he was an accomplice of the gang from the beginning to end: at any rate, that he was cognizant of the intended robbery. The prisoners will, I am afraid, be strung up without mercy."
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John Maguire's Darlinghurst Gaol entry log February 1863.
Note that John Maguire was blind in his right eye until publication; this information was unknown. |
Charters turned state's evidence in hope of securing the full pardon that was offered. He revealed the identities of those involved in the gold robbery but conspicuously failed to implicate his close friend Ben Hall and the tempestuous John O'Meally. In the course of time, however, it was exposed that Charters had indeed committed perjury regarding the involvement of Ben and Jack O'Meally at Eugowra. The mysterious Charley and Billy were fictional characters.
Charters' evidence was false, and consequently would not bear the production of those men; it was a lie from beginning to end. That perjured villain had not only made up his mind as to what men should be condemned, but he had also received money to swear that certain individuals who did take part in the robbery were not present. Charters swore that Ben Hall and O'Meally were not present at the escort robbery, but those men were present; Charters knew well.
Note: O’Meally would no doubt have harmed Charters had he been implicated or more than likely the pair did pay Charters to keep them out of it. Charters would be protected by the police for some months following the trial and was horse breaking at Longbottom near Concord.
Overflowing with rage, Ben Hall was finally granted bail towards the end of August 1862, a bond amounting to £500 and two sureties of £250 each. His bail condition was to 'appear when called upon'. Hall, however, would never again experience the confines of a courtroom or a prison cell. Intriguingly, upon Hall's release, it was noted that an exchange of words reportedly transpired between Hall and Pottinger.
On the last occasion, that Sir Frederick had Ben Hall brought up in Forbes, as Ben was leaving the Courthouse, Pottinger remarked, "Well, Hall, you have escaped again." ''Yes," replied Ben, "and the next time you bring me here it will be for something, and don't you forget it. And if all be true that I hear, when I get home you'll get cause to remember me."⁴⁸
Note; £1,000 in 1862 is worth today around $83,000, demonstrating that Ben Hall appeared to be in an excellent financial position or at least asset-rich to raise that amount of money. However, with the bush and bushranging Hall's new home Sandy Creek would pass through sale to John Wilson, thus providing the funding or Hall may have fenced off his proceeds from Eugowra. Whether Hall lost the funds is unclear as records indicate he was never called as he had crossed the point of no return. It may well be that the loss of £1000 also feeds Hall's desire to wage war with the authorities.
Author's Note; A surety is someone who is often mentioned in a bail undertaking. If the defendant fails to appear, the money or property may be 'forfeited to the court'. Another condition used when defendants apply for bail is the naming of a surety. A surety is a person who guarantees that the defendant will attend her or his court hearing. This security is returned when the hearing has finished. If the defendant does not turn up to court, the surety loses the security, and the court may keep it. (Source; Supreme Court NSW.)
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| Robert Hall, Maitland Gaol 1862, released in 1863. |
In what was becoming a Hall family criminal tradition, as Ben Hall was released on bail in Forbes, his younger brother Robert was sentenced to six months gaol at Maitland for 'Illegally working two Bullocks'.
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| Robert Hall. c. 1870. |
In the course of the trial of the four accused escort robbery individuals — Bow, Fordyce, Manns, and Maguire — Sgt Sanderson, the much-celebrated hero of Wheogo, was summoned to testify about his commendable endeavours in recapturing half of the stolen loot. Sanderson once more shed a more detailed light on the scene at Gardiner's camp on Wheogo Hill.
Wheogo Hill rose to an elevation of 430 meters providing a panoramic vista of the surrounding areas. Sanderson, in his testimony, vividly described the spectacle that awaited them at the bushrangers' camp after their spirited chase of Warrigal Walsh from Hall's home to the summit of Wheogo Hill.
"I saw a horseman coming towards me from the Wheoga Mountains, in the direction of Hall's or McGuire’s house; when he caught sight of me he turned round and bolted into the mountains; I followed him with my party; by the aid of our black tracker we got on the tracks; we followed him by roundabout course up to the top of the Wheogo Mountain; the top of the mountain was about a mile and a half from McGuire’s place; at the top of the mountain I found the remnants of a camp; there were sixteen empty bottles; some contained remnants of port wine, some of gin, some of rum, some of ale; there were biscuits about and tea with milk in it; I did not see how the robbers could have got milk on the spot without going to the stations round about; there were remnants of beef, bits of bread! pieces of green hide tied to bushes, and bits of red tape; I found the top of the hill very stoney, and consequently very difficult to keep the track; we lost it for a time; in about a quarter of an hour it was found by the black tracker, and we proceeded on it a distance of about twenty or twenty-six miles, through a dense scrub; the black tracker rode a white horse; as far as I could judge the man who evaded me at the foot of the Wheogo Mountain rode a bright bay horse; we found the track of several horses; I could not say how many; one of them was shod; we followed in these tracks about twenty-five miles; when we came upon a shod horse with a pack on his back; the pack contained a bag with 1239 ounces of gold, a bag similar to that which I saw put into the escort which started on Sunday, 15th June, from Forbes."
Authors Note: There is sufficient evidence that the rider fleeing Hall's place was indeed young Warrigal Walsh dispatched by Gardiner to gather some more saddlebags to carry the gold and that his identity was protected by all involved.
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| Report of the hold-up of Sale of Sandy Creek in 1865, for £3000. |
As if matters were not complicated enough, the already unsettled legal circumstances surrounding Maguire and Hall brought further turbulence. A close friend of John Maguire and a familiar figure to Hall, John Wilson was also the proprietor of the renowned White Hart Inn in Forbes. In the midst of these troubled times, Wilson was orchestrating a move to take control of the Sandy Creek Station.
This juncture heralded a profound transformation for Ben Hall. Once prospering and standing tall with an untarnished reputation, Hall found himself abruptly caught in the grip of an uncompromising descent. Ben Hall's once abundant and esteemed life was now facing the winds of change. It was a pivotal moment that marked the beginning of an unanticipated chapter in Hall's personal narrative.
This juncture heralded a profound transformation for Ben Hall. Once prospering and standing tall with an untarnished reputation, Hall found himself abruptly caught in the grip of an uncompromising descent. Ben Hall's once abundant and esteemed life was now facing the winds of change. It was a pivotal moment that marked the beginning of an unanticipated chapter in Hall's personal narrative.
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| July 1862. |
John Wilson, a reputable figure, was believed to have extended financial support to Maguire, who was bracing himself for an impending, costly trial in Sydney. It is highly plausible that Ben Hall also benefited from Wilson's largesse in securing his bail, considering the hefty sum of £1,000 needed wasn't easily accessible. Did Hall dig into his Eugowra reward? That is unknown.
Concurrently, as Hall and Maguire's woes grew Wilson was reportedly beginning to liquidate his stakes in local gold mining ventures around Forbes. It seems likely that this strategic move was aimed to raise the capital necessary to finance his impending acquisition of the Sandy Creek station's lease. It was a significant period of financial manoeuvring and strategic decision-making for Wilson, reflecting the intricate intertwining of personal, legal, and business affairs in this era.
John Wilson, of the White Hart Inn, Rankin-street, has for sale a full share in the Britannia Prospecting Claim and a sleeping half share in the same claim, including a share in 200 tons’ quartz now ready for crushing as soon as machinery is ready.
As circumstances unfolded, Maguire disclosed that he and Hall were compelled to relinquish ownership of Sandy Creek Station to Wilson during their time in custody. As a result of Maguire's detention in Sydney and Hall's own inability to manage the station due to constant police scrutiny and long absences, Sandy Creek's fell into disarray with William Hall managing his brothers share. Despite these changes, Hall's brother, Bill Hall and family, along Hall's new girlfriend, Susan Prior, remained in Halls home after Wilson assumed control. It took an extended period before the changes in the station's ownership were officially recorded in the government gazette, further complicating the situation. While incarcerated Maguire's wife Elen lived at Wilson's Hotel as well as approver Richards Forbes home and the Harp of Erin in Forbes and not at the station.
"My wife and children were living at the White Hart Inn kept by a man named Wilson, to whom I had transferred the Sandy Creek Station whilst in gaol, in order to raise the wind."
Furthermore, upon Maguire’s return to Forbes, he stated on release and a not guilty verdict at the Escort Trial of his arrival managing the hotel:
"I made over to Wilson's to see my wife and two children; Next day I arranged with Wilson to take over his hotel, as he wished to go out and work the station."
"Mrs. Maguire was stopping at my house whilst Maguire was in custody. She stopped eight or nine days. After she left my house, she went to the Harp of Erin. Mrs. Maguire left my house because William Hall, who had been taken up about having some of these notes, came to my house, and my wife kicked up a row, and said she would not have people coming about the house at all hours, and then she left next day."
In addition to the complexities surrounding Sandy Creek station, Sarah Walsh found herself indebted to Wilson over her stepson, young 'Warrigal' Walsh, aged 16. Bridget's younger brother, a budding horse and cattle thief, and purported right-hand man to 'The Darkie' Frank Gardiner, was currently under custody.
Warrigal was with Gardiner at Wheogo Hill during Sanderson's arrival, and was the individual attempting to head towards Hall's location, to pickup more saddle bags to cart the gold of Eugowra in eluded the police by leaping across a creek.
Wilson eventually gained control of Uoka (Wheogo), after Warrigal's death only to sell the lease three years later in 1866. Sandy Creek's value was estimated value ranged between £3,000 and £8,000, factoring in new dwellings, stock and improvements. As of 1864, both John Maguire and Ben Hall still were noted as lessees with an outstanding debt to the New South Wales government for rent of £5 10 s for Sandy Creek dating back to November 1862. It was recorded that a partial payment of £3 15s was made in late 1863 when Sandy Creek was still under Hall and Maguire's control, leaving some of the debt unsettled.
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| New South Wales Government Gazette Friday, 23rd October 1863. |
Warrigal was with Gardiner at Wheogo Hill during Sanderson's arrival, and was the individual attempting to head towards Hall's location, to pickup more saddle bags to cart the gold of Eugowra in eluded the police by leaping across a creek.
Wilson eventually gained control of Uoka (Wheogo), after Warrigal's death only to sell the lease three years later in 1866. Sandy Creek's value was estimated value ranged between £3,000 and £8,000, factoring in new dwellings, stock and improvements. As of 1864, both John Maguire and Ben Hall still were noted as lessees with an outstanding debt to the New South Wales government for rent of £5 10 s for Sandy Creek dating back to November 1862. It was recorded that a partial payment of £3 15s was made in late 1863 when Sandy Creek was still under Hall and Maguire's control, leaving some of the debt unsettled.
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| Uoka Station, Bailliere's New South Wales Gazetteer, 1866. |
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| NSW Gazette November 1862, a notice of forfeiture of Sandy Creek. |
With the sale of beef to the nearby goldfields of Forbes and Lambing Flat, a mere forty-five miles away, their income was readily supplemented. This is corroborated by Charters' statement at the Special Commission that he and Hall were rounding up cattle for market when Pottinger made his unexpected appearance in 1862. Further indicating their comfortable financial standing, William Hall, was also arrested holding over £60 in his possession at the time.
Moreover, Maguire was able to afford the services of a cook and housekeeper named Mrs Shanahan, which implied a lack of financial distress. Despite these seemingly comfortable circumstances, it appears that Ben may on Bridget's fleeing with James Taylor have succumbed to the allure of easy money and the excitement of the lifestyle offered by Gardiner. With no home, no family, and devoid of the warm embrace of his son Henry noted as the sunshine of his life to return to at the end of a long day's work and no boy, Ben Hall began to drift away to the more seedy side of life. Hall abandoned his undoubted wealth and prosperous farm for the thrill of a fast horse and the power of a six-gun.
Authors Note on Maguire; I have utilised Maguire's memoirs, and in doing so, note that much of his narrative is out of context to some facts regarding times and places during his friendship with Ben Hall. Maguire recounted his memories near the end of his life, and as such, I have tirelessly cross-referenced much of and disregarded the erroneous information such as the many Gardiner references. However, the bulk of his reminiscence is solid and most useful.
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| The Peak Hill Express, 5th July 1907. NLA. |
"My wife was entitled to 640 pounds as a fourth part of the proceeds, but by some manner of means the executor never handed over a copper of it."
At the time, Maguire and his wife Elen had separated, leading to an eventual divorce, circa 1867. It is believed that they had one more child together, a daughter, who tragically passed away in 1867. This heartbreaking event may have been the final straw that cast their relationship beyond repair along with the rumour of Elen's tryst with Daniel Charters.
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| Susan Prior c. 1862. |
However, this burgeoning family was compromised as Hall deepened his association with Gardiner, participating in the April 1862 Bacon dray robbery and the notorious June 1862 Escort robbery. There is some speculation that Susan's presence might have represented a brief period of attempted reform for Hall before these events, but such attempts to stay on the straight and narrow seemed fleeting at best.
In this time of turbulence, a controversial portrait emerged, often erroneously attributed to Bridget. However, by the end of 1861, Bridget had already entered a relationship with James Taylor, making it highly doubtful that she would have posed for a portrait with her estranged husband. Bridget and Ben's relationship had become mired in acrimony by the dawn of 1862, and despite any shortcomings Taylor may have had, Bridget remained faithfully by his side until his death in 1877.
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| Locket reputed to be among Ben Hall's effects when shot dead on 5th May 1865. Susan Prior. Note no wedding ring and matinee jacket commonly worn by women with child. Unlikely Bridget Hall or sister. Forbes Historical Museum. |
During one of these weekend visits, he met a handsome young girl of 16 summers named Susan Pryor, whom he induced to go and live with him at his home at Wheogo. This action, or mode of life, provoked no resentment on the part, of the Walsh family. Ben now resumed his former energies and appeared as much enamoured of his mistress as he was of his wife.
Note: There is little else recorded of Susan Prior after 1864. Susan gave birth to her and Ben's child, a daughter named Mary, born in January 1863. Mary died in Newton, Sydney, in 1922. However, it has been noted that in old age, Susan was a very bitter and cantankerous woman. However, Susan would live at Burrowa in 1863/4, and due course, forms a relationship with one Alfred Stonham where Susan Prior produced a son, Alfred. The delivery was registered at Yass with Alfred Stonham named as the father. However, Alfred was still married to Mahalah Dengate, and in 1867 he and Mahalah had another child, Ambrose Stonham. By 1875 the marriage of Alfred and Mahalah collapsed. Therefore, it may well be that Alfred in all probability could be another son of Ben Hall and that the birth was attributed to Alfred to deflect any link to Ben Hall. ( See BH pt. 3.)
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John Wilson c. 1872 New South Wales, Australia,Gaol Description and Entrance Books,1818-1930 |
Bill Hall never turned out on the road, though he remained in the district whilst his notorious brother went through all his exciting experiences; in fact, he lived in Ben's house until it was burnt down by the Police.
William Hall, with Sandy Creek home fired decided to venture into gold mining, relocated to the Pinnacle Range. It was here, at the site known both as the Pinnacle Reef and Maguire's Reef, that he initiated his mining operations. Eventually, he settled down in Parkes, where he would spend the remainder of his days. As times became increasingly turbulent, Ben Hall often used the Pinnacle Reef as a hideout.
Meanwhile, prior to Bill Hall's departure from Ben Hall's former residence at Sandy Creek, the household expanded with Susan Prior, her mother Mary, sister Charlotte, and brother William in residence.
Note:
The Ben Hall, Susan Prior and Charters photographs may well have been
taken at Mrs Reed's studio 1862. Photographs were both a novelty and
expensive.
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| Susan Prior and her youngest daughter Esther Stonham. Note the striking resemblance between Mother and Daughter. Susan right. c. 1862, aged 17. Esther Stonham never published before. Private Source. |
Author's Note: In the annals of history, a persistent myth has pervaded that paints a heart-wrenching picture of Ben Hall's Sandy Creek Station during his detention in Forbes in connection with the Escort Robbery. This narrative suggests that the property was abandoned, leaving the livestock yarded at the time of Hall's arrest by Sir Frederick Pottinger in August 1862 left to perish from hunger and thirst. This, however, is a fallacy, a tall tale spun and perpetuated through the sands of time that has come to be accepted as the truth.
Moreover, the story seems to foster a misplaced sympathy for Hall, who was initially seen by many in his district as a respectable, industrious individual. The image, however, faded quickly with Hall's multiple arrests and the public's increasing awareness of his association with Gardiner and his gang. The tale of the decimated livestock further clouds Hall's culpability in his bushranging activities by redirecting blame on his destructive path towards the NSW police and Sir Frederick Pottinger's supposed persecution of Hall - a claim entirely without basis.
The reality of the situation at Sandy Creek Station in 1862 and prior to is well documented. The homestead was inhabited by William Hall, his wife Ann, their two children, and the then-pregnant Susan Prior and her mother Mary and siblings William and Charlotte. Additionally, Hall's former in-laws, the Walsh family, along with John Brown, resided nearby, within a mile or so and his partner John Maguire his wife Elen and children lived close by Hall's home.
To suggest that these individuals would allow the livestock to succumb to such cruel fate, without intervening, or checking on them would be inconceivable. Given the critical importance of these animals for sustenance and survival in such an isolated location, such neglect is simply implausible. Would these people have ignored the audible distress of the suffering animals?
At the second escort trial in 1863, Sir Frederick Pottinger was questioned under oath about the circumstances surrounding the arrests of Ben and William Hall and Dan Charters. His responses shed light on the individuals' reactions at the time of his arrival, the condition of the livestock, and the suspicious cash found on Bill Hall at the time:
Moreover, the story seems to foster a misplaced sympathy for Hall, who was initially seen by many in his district as a respectable, industrious individual. The image, however, faded quickly with Hall's multiple arrests and the public's increasing awareness of his association with Gardiner and his gang. The tale of the decimated livestock further clouds Hall's culpability in his bushranging activities by redirecting blame on his destructive path towards the NSW police and Sir Frederick Pottinger's supposed persecution of Hall - a claim entirely without basis.
The reality of the situation at Sandy Creek Station in 1862 and prior to is well documented. The homestead was inhabited by William Hall, his wife Ann, their two children, and the then-pregnant Susan Prior and her mother Mary and siblings William and Charlotte. Additionally, Hall's former in-laws, the Walsh family, along with John Brown, resided nearby, within a mile or so and his partner John Maguire his wife Elen and children lived close by Hall's home.
To suggest that these individuals would allow the livestock to succumb to such cruel fate, without intervening, or checking on them would be inconceivable. Given the critical importance of these animals for sustenance and survival in such an isolated location, such neglect is simply implausible. Would these people have ignored the audible distress of the suffering animals?
At the second escort trial in 1863, Sir Frederick Pottinger was questioned under oath about the circumstances surrounding the arrests of Ben and William Hall and Dan Charters. His responses shed light on the individuals' reactions at the time of his arrival, the condition of the livestock, and the suspicious cash found on Bill Hall at the time:
"Nothing was said beyond the expression of surprise. I took them to Maguire's, where I had arrested Maguire and Brown, and took them all into town. I did not notice any cattle in Hall's stockyard. They might have been mustering, but I saw nothing of it. I found £50 or £60 in notes on Hall. A great deal was said about them, and a long investigation was had into the matter, about there being notes that had been taken from the escort. I took some notes from the house of Ben Hall, and they were claimed by William Hall, to whom they were returned. There was an investigation before the Bench, and then they were returned. I took possession of them and produced them before the Bench with a view to show that they were taken from the escort. They were placed before several witnesses; Mr Weakes and a clerk of the Commercial Bank who is not here.’ By the Judge: ‘An investigation took place; the notes were examined by witnesses, and the magistrates dismissed the case and returned the notes to William Hall."
Authors Note: It must also be noted that £1 in 1862 is equal today to $84.00.
Hence, I encourage anyone who perpetuates this misguided tale to embark on a journey of comprehensive and credible research. Furthermore, another often-repeated falsehood is a quote allegedly uttered by Hall himself, where he claims he was driven to bushranging because "his wife ran off, his house burned, and his cattle were left to die." This assertion is, under the known circumstances, entirely fictitious and without foundation. Using such a fallacy as a historical reference can mislead those seeking to understand the true narrative. It may, perhaps, find a home only in the realms of fictional literature!
However, Sir Frederick Pottinger could not shake off his suspicions after the Eugowra robbery and remained convinced that 'Sandy Creek' was a haven for bushrangers. Therefore with good intelligence, Pottinger stepped up patrols around Wheogo, including the Pinnacle and the nearby Weddin Mountains..., O'Meally territory!
Accordingly, a letter was published in the newspapers by a resident of the Lachlan depicting the bushrangers friendly inhabitants that were both harbourers and telegraphs and who invoked the old 16th century saying in assistance to the bushrangers that 'a nod is as good as a wink to a blind horse:
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| Mary's Baptism Certificate. Purchased by author. |
On the Billibong and Bland Plains are several stations; many of the residents there, to my certain knowledge, having been at one time hut mates and companions of the now noted bushrangers, whilst after cattle in bye-gone days; consequently, though these residents may not go out and stop persons on the roads still there is little doubt they do wink at the evil practice of their former companions, and, when they see them, give them food and shelter. It is impossible the police can take the bushrangers whilst they have such means afforded them of escape with scouts in all directions — "bush telegrams" as they are called. They may be within an hour's ride of the police, and still escape them. They will never take these bushrangers openly, or in uniform; it will be done simply by stratagem, Humbug Creek, and Weddin Mountains used to be their haunts when they were stockkeepers; consequently, they know the ground well now — every bush and tree is familiar to them.⁴⁹
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| The Empire. 16th August, 1862. Ridicule of Pottinger's confrontation. |
On that occasion Pottinger had laid a stakeout at the home of Catherine Brown, Gardiner's paramour, in Wheogo, accompanied by eight officers. The Inspector had received credible intelligence that 'The Darkie' would show up for a romantic rendezvous with Mrs Brown. Indeed, the information proved accurate when, under the cover of darkness, Gardiner was seen arriving on his white steed. Pottinger, seizing the element of surprise, abruptly stood and fired at Gardiner point-blank, who was completely taken aback. However, owing to a malfunction in Pottinger's rifle, Gardiner managed to slip away, evading the eight strategically positioned troopers. Two of them discharged their weapons but missed Gardiner, who disappeared into the night. Pottinger under oath described the moments.
As the pine scrub in which myself and Sergeant Saunderson were hid was 150 yards distant, we could not identify her; about twenty minutes afterwards I saw a man on a white horse with a gun slung by the saddle, proceeding from the house; he proceeded quietly along in a certain direction 80 or 100 yards, from which he finally deviated, taking a cattle track through the scrub; up to this period myself and Saunderson proceeded in a parallel direction through the scrub, but when he diverged we fell back; presently we heard the sound of horse's hoofs proceeding slowly towards us. I waited until he had arrived within five yards, when I stepped out, and levelled my carbine at him over the horse's shoulder, with the muzzle within three yards of the rider's body; I called out 'stand;' the rider, I swear was Frank Gardiner; he immediately uttered a yell or shriek, and threw up his arms into the air, still holding the rein; at this moment the horse turned away, and determined not to lose a chance; I pulled the trigger; the cap missed fire, and the next moment the horse bolted into the bush; the shriek was that of a man already shot; I called out to Saunderson and the trooper to shoot the wretch; Saunderson fired two shots from his revolver, and Hollister fired at him, but was 100 yards distant or thereabout, and Newton was too far off.
Moreover, it was reported that Gardiner having bolted reined his horse some five hundred yards away:
Gardiner, cantered away into the bush on his white horse, and seems to have felt quite secure that nobody would follow him, for he dismounted and sat down at his ease when he got about five hundred yards away. The Battle of Wheogo was over, and the nine men remained masters of a barren field.
Unrepentant at his failure, Pottinger proceeded to Kitty's hut where she did not deny that indeed the Darkie had been present:
Rather than go home empty-handed, it seems they took a little boy out of bed, where they found him asleep, and carried him off to Forbes, on suspicion of having held Gardiner's horse.
Regrettably, Pottinger's confrontation with the Darkie drew considerable ridicule from the NSW press, particularly when he detained Catherine's young brother, 'Warrigal' Walsh. Yass Courier 30th August 1862:
Up started then Sir Fred. and his men, with cock'd carbine in band. And call'd aloud on the Ranger proud, on pain of death, to "stand;" But the Ranger proud, he laughed aloud, and bounding rode away, While Sir Frederick Pott. shut his eyes for a shot, and miss'd—in his usual way.
Yet, the exploits of the bushrangers held an irresistible allure, drawing extensive coverage in the newspapers and becoming the topic of conversation in homes, restaurants, and hotels. The trend even inspired children to mimic the bushrangers in play, causing a wave of concern over the idolisation of figures like Gardiner and, in due course, Ben Hall. In response, 'The Goulburn Chronicle' expressed deep worry over the growing number of children pretending to be bushrangers in its issue from October 24, 1862. The newspaper cautioned its readers, stating:The amusement of playing bushrangers and sticking up one another may prove very exciting to the juvenile mind, but such amusements must necessarily tend to loss of moral principles and disregard of right and wrong.
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| Wanted notice NSW Police Gazette, 1863. |
The NSW Police Gazette contained descriptions of perpetrators who closely resembled the known physical characteristics of Gardiner, Gilbert, O'Meally, Hall, and other known acquaintances such as the three Jacks, Patsy Daley, and another emerging bushranger, young John Jameison, a close friend of John Walsh. These records provided crucial information that helped keep track of the infamous outlaws' activities and movements. In some instances the criminals were named.(See above.)
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| Hall Robbery NSW Police Gazette, 14th January 1863. |
However, the bushrangers didn't lay low for long. On the following day, January 14, 1863, they struck again, robbing David M'Veigh 10 miles outside of Forbes on the heavily trafficked road to Lambing Flat. These successive robberies further underscored the audacity of the bushrangers, who continued their exploits seemingly unimpeded by the threat of capture.
On the 14th instant, Mr. David M'Veigh of Forbes was stuck up on the road about 10 miles from Forbes, by three mounted men, armed with revolvers and robbed of 13 s. in silver. 1st described as being young, fair, no hair on face; dressed in flash striped trousers and cabbage tree hat; The other two men had their faces covered with crape and cannot be described.
Jameison and Daley would later be found guilty over this particular robbery, the third person being Ben Hall. Yass Courier, July 29th, 1863:
John Jamieson was also committed for trial, at the same court, on a charge of having, in company with Patsey Daley and another, committed a robbery on the persons of David M'Veigh and David Pollon, on the Lachlan road, about six months ago (the day of the fire at Forbes). He was also charged with an attempt at robbing (being armed) John Large and William John White, on the Lachlan road.
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| Mrs Brown, NSW Police Gazette. |
However, many of these correspondents appeared reluctant to name these suspects in newspaper articles, likely as a self-preservation strategy. The act of publishing their speculations often ran the risk of alerting the bushrangers or their confederates about the extent of information held by the police, potentially providing them with a forewarning to evade capture or alter their criminal strategies. Thus, the bushranging epidemic continued, with the names of those involved often whispered in hushed tones, rather than splashed across the public press.
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| Ben Hall wanted NSW Police Gazette 1863. Note age. Height incorrect. Should read 5 ft 6 in. |
January 1863 marked the reappearance of John Gilbert in the Lachlan District, following a period of absence after the notorious Escort robbery. His lucky escape from Inspector Pottinger in July 1862 had led him to New Zealand's South Island. Accompanied by his two brothers, Gilbert had found temporary refuge at Clyde on the Dunstan goldfield. On his return to NSW, he wasted no time jumping back into the saddle, revisiting his old stomping grounds around the Weddin Mountains and its surrounding districts, including Marengo, Gilbert's former home.
This homecoming was not a quiet affair. Gilbert quickly reestablished himself, joining forces with O'Meally and Hall. Known collectively as 'The Boys,' they launched a spree of plundering local establishments with reckless abandon. As reported by the "Sydney Morning Herald" on February 7th, 1863, Gilbert's return was anything but inconspicuous.
There are many rumours afloat as to the number of bushrangers in this affair, and the number of stations "stuck up," but I know for certain of two places being ransacked by them, viz, the Bentick-Morrell station (Mr George Tout's), and a roadside accommodation house (G Harcombe's) At the latter place they only got £7. The house was entered by three robbers, but six others were counted waiting at a short distance within call as a reserve if necessary within call as a reserve if necessary, apparently with the plunder from the Bentick-Morrell station strapped upon them. The rascals were under the leadership of one Johnny Gilbert, a henchman of Gardiner's. This is an undoubted fact, because a sister-in-law of George Harcombe's was present, and distinctly recognised him, she is a native of Marengo, near which place John Gilbert was stock-keeper for some time. None of the desperadoes took the trouble to mask themselves.⁵¹
In quick succession, many robberies were Gazetted by police fitting Ben Hall's description. However, many of these robberies as the one above were littered with unknowns and in some cases as many as eight or nine would be bushrangers:
In quick succession, many robberies were Gazetted by police fitting Ben Hall's description. However, many of these robberies as the one above were littered with unknowns and in some cases as many as eight or nine would be bushrangers:
A man named John Grandylar, who left Goulburn for the Lachlan some time back, was stuck-up by two armed bushrangers on Monday last, about sixteen miles on this side of Burrowa, on his return hither, and was robbed of whatever money he had on his person A cheque for a considerable amount that he had sown inside the band of his trousers escaped observation. They, however, took a good pair of boots off his feet, but gave him an old pair in exchange, and also robbed him of his coat. The man's swag with a revolver in it, where of course it was utterly useless, was appropriated by the bushrangers to their own use.⁵²
By January 1863, Ben Hall's metamorphosis into a dedicated bushranger seemed thoroughly accomplished. His visage became increasingly recognised by victims who were familiar with him from past encounters, even though some modern interpretations question the historical evidence of this. However, the undisputed reality was that Hall, bereft of any semblance of honour or civility, aimed his firearm at unsuspecting victims, instilling paralysing fear before ruthlessly stripping them of their hard-earned wages and personal possessions. His transformation from a respected member of society to a feared bushranger was now irrevocable.
As Hall began to routinely conduct holdups in the Lachlan between Lambing Flat, Sandy Creek and Forbes at the Fish River situated in the Brisbane Valley another bushranger was working the area. At the New Years day races future chum of Ben Hall's, Fred Lowrie bailed up the race goers Reported in the Bathurst Free Press January 1863.
OUTRAGE WITH FIREARMS. - On New Year's Day, races were held at a place called Brisbane Valley, near the head of the Fish River Creek. Among the parties present, it appears, there were two men for whom the police have been some time on the lookout, named Lowrie and Foley. After the races, the prizes having been paid, the man Lowrie attempted to bail up the persons present Two, however, refused to go into the house, when Lowrie fired upon them. The ball grazed the cheek of one of the race visitors, and struck a horse that stood by, on the hip. A young man named Foran then rushed at Lowrie, when the latter immediately fired, and shot the poor young fellow through the right lung. Dr Eaton, who was sent for, is of opinion that the ball is lodged in the region of the spine. Notwithstanding that Foran was thus wounded, he sprang at once upon the villain, and was enabled to hold him till, other assistance coming forward, he was effectively secured. The police at Bathurst, having received information, at once proceeded in the direction of the scene of the outrage. It is to be hoped these daring men, who have so long been a terror to the neighbouring localities, will not have made their escape before the arrival of the police.
Luckily, the shot man Mr Foran survived his brave encounter.
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| NSW Police Gazette February 1863. Note; Hall's description- 5 ft 6 in. Hall's height would vary in future police Gazettes from 5 ft 6 in-5 ft 8 in. |
However, Gardiner long left the Lachlan was still claimed as a thought to be perpetrator. A
subsequent article in the 'Goulburn Herald' detailed a verbal exchange
during the hold-up, shedding more light on this significant episode in
Ben Hall's now notorious career.
Mr David Pollock accompanied by Mr Reed's traveller was returning from Green's at Uah. He was bailed up by three mounted and armed men; "What have you got in your pocket"? said the leading robber, "Dam all a halfpence," was the reply, after which the lord of the road said, "what are you driving about the country, for, without money"? To this. Mr Pollock answered that he had been looking for a mule, and if his interrogator would find it and bring it to Forbes, he would give him a note. "Now Pollock," said the bushranger, "never go on the road again without money"; and the three rode away. We have good reason to believe that the leader of this trio: was on other than the, veritable Gardiner himself; and that his companions were newly enlisted.
Note: Once again, Hall's height is noted as 5' 6", far from the many historians claiming Hall was a tall man. Ben Hall's short and stout frame can not be emphasised enough.
On January 28, 1863, a mere day after the previous heist, Ben Hall struck again. This time, he targeted Mr Green of 'Uar' station, where Hall's was on occasion in the 1850s a stock rider during the yearly cattle musters. Th bushrangers approached the public house and held up Green's wife, Mary who had been a witness to the robbery on the previous day. This time, Hall made away with bottles of gin and kegs of brandy. Once again, Ben Hall was positively identified at the scene by Mrs Green.
Interestingly, the Police Gazette initially named Patrick O'Meally, younger brother of John O'Meally, as one of the bushrangers. However, upon subsequent investigation by Captain Zouch, Patrick was found to be innocent of this particular crime. He was arrested by police for his alleged involvement in the two robberies, but upon examination, the young man was exonerated, proving that not all initial suspect identifications were accurate.
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| NSW Police Gazette, February 1863. |
Interestingly, the Police Gazette initially named Patrick O'Meally, younger brother of John O'Meally, as one of the bushrangers. However, upon subsequent investigation by Captain Zouch, Patrick was found to be innocent of this particular crime. He was arrested by police for his alleged involvement in the two robberies, but upon examination, the young man was exonerated, proving that not all initial suspect identifications were accurate.
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| NSW Police Gazette, February 1863. |
As fate would have it, during the robbery, a police trooper named Constable Stewart happened to pass by the scene. This chance occurrence was to significantly alter the trajectory of the event, adding a further layer of tension and potential for chaos to the unfolding scenario.
Regrettably for Constable Stewart, he became an unwilling participant in the unfolding chaos, as he was ambushed and stripped of his horse and saddle, a personal rather than police possession. In response to the bushrangers' demands, Stewart bravely yet unwisely attempted to resist. This act of defiance did not go unpunished; he found himself at the receiving end of a severe beating, reportedly delivered by none other than John O'Meally. This act of violence against a law enforcement officer highlighted the escalating audacity and ruthlessness of the bushrangers. 'The Empire', 13th February 1863:
On Monday evening last, (2nd Feb) about half-past eight o'clock, five men called at the store of Mr George Dickenson. He was behind the counter, serving a customer. One of the robbers said to him, in a half drunken manner, "Bail up, we want what you have got." Mr, Dickenson hearing this, made a dart for his bed-room, where he kept his revolver, but he was immediately stopped and ordered to go outside the store, where he was placed under the charge of an armed man with his customer, Mr, Mead with one of the bushranger's in police uniform. The robbers searched them. From Mr Mead, they took £5 in notes, and searched and no less than eleven other persons who were passing along the high road outside the store. They then went inside, stole a revolver, a bag containing five pounds in silver, between ten and eleven pounds’ worth of gold dust, and sundry articles of clothing. After stealing what they required, they helped themselves to brandy, gin, &c., and in fact everything they fancied. While the premises were being ransacked, a policeman happened to pass. He was stuck up also, and his horse, saddle and bridle, were taken away.
The horse was the constable's private property. He consequently offered resistance, when one of the villains struck him a severe blow on the hand and wrist, quite disabling the limb; they kept him in durance vile until their unlawful work was accomplished; they then allowed him to proceed. He made his way with all possible speed to the camp, and Captain Battye mustered all hands, and started immediately in pursuit. The men also stuck-up the adjoining inn, Mr. Dalton's, known by the name of the Golden Fleece. They are supposed to have obtained about £60 in cash, and several guns and pistols. The latter were taken from Dalton's. The robbers are supposed to be the same who stuck-up the Bendick Morrell station on the 29th ultimo.
During the tense standoff, one of the onlookers noticed that Daley seemed particularly unnerved, shaking 'like a leaf' under the intense pressure of the situation. The captives saw this vulnerability as a potential opportunity to overpower their captors. However, sensing the rising tension, Ben Hall stepped in to quash any potential rebellion. "You fellows think there are only five of us, there are others within coo-ee," he warned. His firm intervention served to remind the captives of the unseen threat lurking nearby, effectively stifling any hope of mounting a successful counterattack.
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| Boland. Police Gazette 1863. |
A man named Christie Boland, alias Burtell, and supposed to be connected with Gilbert, Ben Hall, and O'Meally, in the sticking-up of Dickinson's and Solomon's stores, at Young, in February 1863, was arrested yesterday by the police. The bench, this morning, remanded him to Young for identification.
'The Argus' Saturday 23rd April 1864 reported:
A man named Christie Boland was remanded last week by Captain Brownrigg, for robbery under arms, to Young, the scene of his exploits. As it is supposed he was a mate of Ben Hall's, and it being known that the latter gentleman has recruited and reorganised his gang for the winter campaign, it was deemed necessary by Mr Superintendent M'Lerie to send four troopers with this single prisoner. We have no hesitation in saying that this proceeding was a discreet one; and still further to show the opinion that officer and the police generally have of Morgan and Hall's audacity, the foot patrol are initially armed with loaded revolvers, to be prepared for an attack upon the town.
On 26th September 1863, Mr Dickenson offered his unique account of the robbery and actions of the bushrangers during Patsy Daley's trial, as reported by the 'Goulburn Herald'. His testimony would add another riveting chapter to the captivating saga that was Ben Hall and his gang's life of crime.
"I reside at Spring Creek, Burrangong; on Monday, 2nd February, I was stuck-up by five men; one of them stood over me with a pistol, another presented a pistol at my storekeeper, and a third held a pistol to a customer I was serving; it was about eight in the evening and moonlight; I was behind the counter; we were all stuck-up at the same moment, and were all turned outside and a guard put over us; the prisoner was the guard; I have no doubt of him; he stood with a pistol over us; there were three of us at first, but some people passing were ordered to fall in, and there were eight or nine of us; prisoner said nothing but to tell some of the men to stand back when they were pressing forward; he did nothing but stand guard; he was standing guard about a quarter of an hour, I had seen prisoner at Clark's public-house a few months before; we were both dining there, and I had an opportunity of noticing him; when the men were going away I went into the house and found all the things tumbled about; I saw five men ride away; I did not notice the prisoner particularly, but I noticed the number and I did not see him afterwards; a policeman in plain clothes passed while the men were there, and being unarmed they made him give up his horse, saddle, and bridle; I missed £5 in silver, £10 or £11 in gold dust, a revolver, three watches, several pairs of boots, and a quantity of clothing; altogether, property to the value of £50 or £70 was taken, including the money and gold; these articles were all in the place previous to the men coming; I got my revolver afterwards from Sir Frederick Pottinger, but have not recovered any of the other property; when the men left I noticed large swags in front of them; prisoner was dressed in a sort of police uniform, old fashioned."
Upon completing the testimony, Sir Frederick Pottinger attested:
"I handed to Mr Dickenson a revolver I got from a horse I believed to belong to Ben Hall."
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| NSW Police Gazette, Frank Gardiner & John Gilbert. |
Yet, the path to a reformed police force was not without its hurdles. The police found themselves in daunting situations as they grappled with the task of establishing law and order in the harsh western territories and remote settlements.
The gold rush had a profound impact, not only on the colony but also on the isolated towns. As tens of thousands flocked to the new goldfields with each discovery, a climate of lawlessness took hold. Robberies, beatings, and murders became disturbingly common. In this chaotic environment, opportunistic thieves thrived, and audacious bushrangers, who openly defied law and order, began to emerge. Ben Hall was one such figure who carved his name into the annals of notorious bushrangers.
Mr Charles Cowper, the Colonial Secretary, often earned the moniker 'Slippery Charley' due to his cunning political manoeuvring. During his tenure, he faced the daunting challenge of confronting a new and audacious wave of lawlessness and an influx of world citizens with many different traditions and outlooks and many not afraid to throw themselves into the rough and tumble of the goldfields. Furthermore the vast lack of education to the often claimed idle youth who thought it a lark to nick horses and cattle meandered across the colony haunting sly grog shops and the seedy backwater towns quick to saddle up and emerge as bushrangers. In his estimation, the solution to quelling the lawlessness lay in the substantial financial rewards - incentives he believed would set the hearts of 'cockatoo squatters' racing at the windfall, and pave the way for apprehending these outlaws. The Manaro Mercury, and Cooma and Bombala Advertiser, on the 13th February 1863 wrote:
Cowper is getting quite convinced of the inclemency of the 'Grande idee' about the New Police: for he has just offered a reward of £500 for the apprehension (without conviction) of Gardiner, and another £500 for his mate Johnny Gilbert. The only chance of capturing these ruffians seems to be by offering a large reward. (See reward notice above right.)
However, the Colonial Secretary was off the mark as the old convict distrust amongst the Cockatoo Squatters held firm and the police blocked in their inquiries. As Hall continued to carve out a name for himself in this lawless world, the echo of a once familiar name - Gardiner - still resonated with many reported robberies. Yet the erstwhile leader's whereabouts remained an enigma, prompting one correspondent to comment:
After every enquiry could hear of no confirmation of the report, nor of any stranger having visited that quarter bearing any resemblance to the redoubted bushranger. Verily, there are as many Gardiners in the colony as there were Richmond’s at Bosworth field.⁵³
Author's Note: The Police Regulation Act was passed by the NSW Colonial Parliament, and as of the 1st March 1862, all existing police forces amalgamated to establish the NSW Police Force under former Army Captain John McLerie as Inspector General.
Ernest Bowler, a familiar associate of Ben Hall, shared an intriguing account of Hall's activities in the early months of 1863, as recounted in 'The Moleskin Gentry'. On this particular instance, Bowler had been mustering cattle on the expansive pastures of the Charter's Pinnacle Station. As the sun was beginning to set, his party ascended a mountainside, only to stumble upon two hobbled horses - stolen, by all appearances. Bowler recognised the horses as his own and those of a friend, presumably taken by Hall. One was a fine bay, the other a dappled grey. Proceeding with caution, Bowler disengaged the hobbles and spurred the horses towards the Pinnacle stockyard with all haste.
Later that evening, Bowler found himself back at the public house on the Pinnacle Station, sharing a meal in the kitchen when whispers that 'The Boys' (local slang for bushrangers) were lurking nearby began to circulate. Bowler vividly recounts Hall's dramatic arrival following the earlier recovery of the horses:
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| Earnest Bowler 1830-1896 Private Source. |
Later that evening, Bowler found himself back at the public house on the Pinnacle Station, sharing a meal in the kitchen when whispers that 'The Boys' (local slang for bushrangers) were lurking nearby began to circulate. Bowler vividly recounts Hall's dramatic arrival following the earlier recovery of the horses:
"Ben Hall appeared at the back door. Nothing was said for a while. Hall, Ernest noted was wearing a cabbage tree hat that seemed new. He stood somewhat menacingly, a hand on each doorpost. It was perhaps, Hall's silent warning to a man he respected that it is unwise to liberate hobbled horses. When at last Ernest said, “Good evening,” Hall nodded curtly and moved away."
Bowler, along with the others present, harboured a gnawing fear that 'The Boys' might swoop down upon them, seize their cash, and make off with their horses. In a bid to forestall this looming threat, two messengers hastily made their way to the Pinnacle police station, a mere three-quarters of a mile away. They managed to convince the sole constable in charge, a man by the name of Constable Knox, to accompany them back to the public house to provide some form of protection. It was reputed that Constable Knox was involved in a romantic relationship with the widow Mrs. Feehiley, who was the sister of Dan Charters. In retrospect, Constable Knox's decision to accompany the messengers back to the public house was a grave misjudgement. Contrary to their fears, the Pinnacle station's public house was not the intended target of 'The Boys'.
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| NSW Police Gazette, February 1863. |
The most impudent of robberies it has ever been our lot to record was perpetrated on Saturday last, at the Police Station, at the Pinnacle, between Forbes and Lambing Flat. It appears that the station has been usually occupied by three troopers. Last week, however, two of these, including the officer in charge, had occasion to come to Forbes; the third was accordingly left behind, with instructions not to leave his post. On Saturday morning, when the men were returning, from Forbes, they were met by the trooper from the station, who reported that the place had been broken into during his temporary absence, and robbed of firearms, a pair of saddle-bags, and other property. Suspicion rested upon two men who had been seen about the neighbourhood, namely, Benjamin Hall and John Daley. Pursuit was immediately commenced, and Hall and Daley were soon within view. On the tracker approaching them, one of the fugitives turned and fired at him, but happily missed his aim., The tracker attempted to return the compliment, but his revolver missed fire. It is to be hoped the desperadoes are by this time in safe custody.⁵⁴
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| Pinnacle Station with Weddin Mountains in the background. |
Recognising the men, Hollister and his two trackers immediately took up pursuit, engaging in a high-stakes chase peppered with gunfire. One of Hollister's trackers, Billy Dargin, later provided a firsthand account of the harrowing events that unfolded.
Followed them at that time with Prince Charlie and Trooper Hollister. Chased them for three miles and a half, and should have taken them but for Hollister getting thrown from his horse through running against a tree; saw Daley snap his revolver three times at Charlie.⁵⁵ (For more on Billy Dargin see The Traps Page.)
Note: William Hollister was an American by birth and a former world travelling sailor who worked as a Trimmer on sailing ships, resigned as a crew member to try the NSW goldfields and soon after joined the NSW Police force in early 1862. Coincidentally he was a crewman onboard the 'City of Sydney' that arrived in Sydney with a passenger named F. Pottinger in 1860 from Melbourne.
Trooper William Hollister, noted for his efficiency, maintained a personal diary throughout his service. He recorded the chase and attempted capture of Hall and Daley in an entry dated Saturday, 7th February 1863. The diary entry stands as a vivid testament to the fraught nature of policing in these lawless territories, offering us a firsthand glimpse into the perils and frustrations of pursuing these elusive outlaws.
Note: All credit is due to Peter Bradley for his endeavours at the NSW Historical Society at uncovering Hollisters diary.
O
n Saturday 7th instant the Pinnacle barracks were broken into and robbed of one rifle one carbine 10 rounds of rifle ammunition one pouch and bridle one pair of saddle bags belt one gunnysack one flask of powder two pair of handcuffs two Crimean shirts &c. Ben Hall was tracked from the barracks to Uar by constable Knox." Diary entry Sunday 8th February 1863;"With Dargin (Tracker) from this station to Uar from Uar to Pinnacle reefs from reefs to this station. Myself and Dargin from Forbes met constable Knox at Uar and took up the tracks and ran them for about 12 miles and came upon Ben Hall and Patsy Daly within about 3 miles of the Pinnacle reefs and chased them about one mile when my horse ran me against a tree Daly tried to shoot one of the Black Trackers McFenns black fellow was with me through me getting the fall Hall and Daly escaped came to Pinnacle Police Station. When I met Knox, I sent him back to this station.
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| NSW Police Gazette, March 1863. |
Trooper Hollister harboured no doubts that it was Ben Hall he was pursuing. The robbery at the Pinnacle Station would prove consequential for Constable Knox, leading to his dismissal from the NSW police force.
The Pinnacle Station and its police presence were depicted in a 1863 edition of the Sydney Morning Herald:
This is the name given to a mountain range lying about a couple of miles to the right of the road from Forbes to Young. It has been made familiar to Sydney's ears from having been frequently mentioned during the course of the trial of the escort robbers, as the home of Charters, the approver, who lived there with his sister. It takes its name, as I was informed-for I had no opportunity of examining the locality closely from a peculiarly-shaped hill that forms part of the range. The Pinnacle station lies about half a mile off the road and was until lately a public house. The locality has long been regarded as a suspicious one, because the Pinnacle Range, like that of the Weddin, affords complete shelter, in its many almost inaccessible fastnesses, and offers a ready asylum through being so near the road. Captain M'Lerie, on his recent visit, established a police station here. The barracks are erected by the roadside and about a mile on the Forbes side of the Pinnacle squatting station. it was supposed that this would effectually cut off the bushrangers from the Pinnacle range, or at all events prevent them from making it a regular haunt.
During the pursuit led by Hollister, words were fired along with bullets. Hall later confided in Inspector Norton that Hollister had threatened to shoot him, a sentiment he reciprocated. This pattern of denial on Hall's part could be traced back to the Bacon robbery of April 1862. In that incident, Hall claimed that he and John Youngman stumbled upon the crime while Gardiner was orchestrating the hold-up. After his arrest, Hall managed to secure a questionable not-guilty verdict, allegedly through bribery. Can one man really be so unlucky as to constantly be in the wrong place at the wrong time, or was Hall simply a master of playing the innocent bystander? The evidence leans towards the latter. Ben Hall was deeply involved in criminal activities, a fact corroborated by his brother William.
Numerous newspaper reports, entries in the NSW Police Gazette, and accounts by respected citizens like Ernest Bowler and Charles MacAlister, among others, all provide solid evidence for what the police had long suspected: Ben Hall had long been embroiled in the world of bushranging, a fact all too familiar to the local populace of the Lachlan region.
After his encounters with Knox and Hollister, wherein shots were exchanged, the NSW Police Gazette published a disturbing account on February 13, 1863 following the confrontation with Hollister.
By the end of February 1863, Hall had earned a reputation as being armed and dangerous. Historically, some have cast doubt on Hall's involvement in criminal activities prior to the robbery at Pinnacle Police Station. However, let's put such conjecture to rest right now! When the evidence is closely scrutinised, it's clear that Hall's illicit activities and association with the likes of Gardiner began around 1861. Although Hall proclaimed his innocence during the Bacon robbery, eyewitness accounts from the Bacon affair in April 1862, the Gold Escort attack at Eugowra in June 1862, and the subsequent Pinnacle hold-up, all suggest a different narrative.
His collaboration with Patrick Daley in the Pinnacle hold-up was confirmed by eyewitness accounts. It wasn't a case of mere coincidence. Even when Hall claimed he merely ran into Daley for a drink at Allports' pub and was incidentally in the vicinity during the Pinnacle hold-up, Constable Knox identified him as Daley's accomplice. Knox would have been familiar with Hall from his time spent at Pinnacle with Charters. It was also common knowledge that Constable Knox was romantically involved with Daniel Charters' widowed sister, Margaret Feehily.
However, Hall's account — that he had left Allports with Daley and was casually riding home when trooper Hollister began pursuing them based on Knox's information — doesn't hold water. Why would an innocent man flee and brazenly exchange gunfire with troopers? This act alone gives credence to the guilt he professed to not bear. And it was unfortunate for Hall that Hollister knew him well, most likely due to Hollister's awareness of Hall's notorious associations and recent criminal activities.
His collaboration with Patrick Daley in the Pinnacle hold-up was confirmed by eyewitness accounts. It wasn't a case of mere coincidence. Even when Hall claimed he merely ran into Daley for a drink at Allports' pub and was incidentally in the vicinity during the Pinnacle hold-up, Constable Knox identified him as Daley's accomplice. Knox would have been familiar with Hall from his time spent at Pinnacle with Charters. It was also common knowledge that Constable Knox was romantically involved with Daniel Charters' widowed sister, Margaret Feehily.
However, Hall's account — that he had left Allports with Daley and was casually riding home when trooper Hollister began pursuing them based on Knox's information — doesn't hold water. Why would an innocent man flee and brazenly exchange gunfire with troopers? This act alone gives credence to the guilt he professed to not bear. And it was unfortunate for Hall that Hollister knew him well, most likely due to Hollister's awareness of Hall's notorious associations and recent criminal activities.
Ben Hall, Daley, and O'Maley, three well-known bushrangers.
Numerous newspaper reports, entries in the NSW Police Gazette, and accounts by respected citizens like Ernest Bowler and Charles MacAlister, among others, all provide solid evidence for what the police had long suspected: Ben Hall had long been embroiled in the world of bushranging, a fact all too familiar to the local populace of the Lachlan region.
After his encounters with Knox and Hollister, wherein shots were exchanged, the NSW Police Gazette published a disturbing account on February 13, 1863 following the confrontation with Hollister.
The report detailed an attack on an elderly woman named Mrs. Mary Finnigan. Mrs. Finnigan, who ran a shanty near Forbes, was known locally for her benevolent nature. The report read as follows:
Mrs. Finnigan's Shanty had frequently served as a rest stop for the police in their pursuit of Hall, Gilbert, O'Meally, and Daley. The New South Wales Police Gazette reported an incident involving two men who bore a striking resemblance to Ben Hall and either Patsy Daley or John Gilbert. The men entered Mrs. Finnigan's shanty, which doubled as her home, and committed a terrible act against the helpless woman. Daley's family resided at the Arramagong station, once shared with the O'Meally's, and Gilbert was also known to take refuge at the O'Meally's shanty. Police described the O'Meally's as having reddish-brown hair, a description that did not fit Gilbert and Daley. The second man fits Ben Hall in all respects.
Moreover, the brutal attack on Mrs. Finnigan marked a turning point in Ben Hall's criminal career. The incident at the Pinnacle had already exposed Hall's ruthless nature, but his assault on Mrs. Finnigan indicated a drastic escalation in his disregard for societal norms. Now, more than ever, Hall seemed to be on a reckless path that could only end in prolonged imprisonment, death on the gallows, or a violent end in a shootout.
Renowned bushranger historian J.H.M. Abbott, writing for 'The Truth' in March 1935, offered an insightful perspective on the roots of modern bushranging and its seductive power over impressionable native-born youths. He observed:
Undoubtedly, Harpur's intimate knowledge of the Lachlan bushrangers was likely informed through his mother. His familial ties subsequently tarnished his reputation within the NSW Parliament, as he was perceived as being lenient due to his family's associations. This leniency was notably absent in his stance towards the rigorous measures proposed by the Cowper Government to address the bushranger menace. In July 1863, Harpur's perceived soft approach was brought to light:
Sir Frederick Pottinger, the officer overseeing the Lachlan district, was a contentious figure who drew the ire of many, not least Harpur's mother, Sarah. Her young stepson, John Walsh, had come under Pottinger's heavy scrutiny as a suspected thief and was widely considered to be the horse handler for the notorious bushranger Frank Gardiner. Consequently, Harpur had a deep-seated bias against Pottinger, influenced heavily by his mother. Using his parliamentary privilege, Harpur would publicly denounce Pottinger as a coward, criticising the officer's heavy-handed tactics and his perceived harassment of his mother:
Mrs Finnigan—an elderly widow whose generous hospitality to penniless travellers keeps her poor.
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| NSW Police Gazette, 13th February 1863. |
Moreover, the brutal attack on Mrs. Finnigan marked a turning point in Ben Hall's criminal career. The incident at the Pinnacle had already exposed Hall's ruthless nature, but his assault on Mrs. Finnigan indicated a drastic escalation in his disregard for societal norms. Now, more than ever, Hall seemed to be on a reckless path that could only end in prolonged imprisonment, death on the gallows, or a violent end in a shootout.
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| Gardiner & Gilbert. c. 1862. |
For those who had known Ben Hall in his early years as a diligent stockman, the transformation was a shocking turn of events. His once stalwart advocates watched with increasing dismay as Hall spiralled from a respected station owner into a notorious outlaw.
Association with the likes of Gardiner, John Gilbert, and O'Meally had erased any lingering doubts about his life of crime. His lawless activities were not mere rumours but a well-established fact, which made him a high-profile target for the relentless but trans-formative NSW police, led by the zealous Lachlan inspector Pottinger. Having missed the opportunity to convict Hall for his involvement in the Bacon and Eugowra robberies, Pottinger was eager to see Hall captured and ultimately hanged for his crimes.
One might also note that the accomplices Hall kept were often from similar backgrounds as himself. Like him, they were children of convicts, raised among cattle and horse thieves who took advantage of any opportunity to steal. This new breed of bushrangers, including John Peisley, O’Meally and Fred Lowry, shared a common bond of lawlessness passed down through generations of parents who lived on the take. Family ties and close friendships often drew Hall and his associates into their criminal lifestyle, and the older generation's tales of past adventures and their longstanding distrust of authority played no small part in influencing them. Ben Hall himself witnessed his father and older brothers stealing livestock. Through prolonged idleness the situation was exacerbated by no coherent discipline nor education. The back country school was unheard of as tutors filled, for those who could afford, them the void. The 'Empire' newspaper on March 12th, 1863, aptly summarised the bushranging epidemic's adverse impact on the country:
One might also note that the accomplices Hall kept were often from similar backgrounds as himself. Like him, they were children of convicts, raised among cattle and horse thieves who took advantage of any opportunity to steal. This new breed of bushrangers, including John Peisley, O’Meally and Fred Lowry, shared a common bond of lawlessness passed down through generations of parents who lived on the take. Family ties and close friendships often drew Hall and his associates into their criminal lifestyle, and the older generation's tales of past adventures and their longstanding distrust of authority played no small part in influencing them. Ben Hall himself witnessed his father and older brothers stealing livestock. Through prolonged idleness the situation was exacerbated by no coherent discipline nor education. The back country school was unheard of as tutors filled, for those who could afford, them the void. The 'Empire' newspaper on March 12th, 1863, aptly summarised the bushranging epidemic's adverse impact on the country:
If once detected in cattle stealing, they become depredators on a large scale, bushrangers of a more dangerous kind than the colony has yet known, having resourced in themselves and their surroundings of which the poor outlaws under the old penal system were utterly devoid. Horses they have the pick of the country and friends and brothers wherever they go. Hence the class of bushrangers who have, within, the last few years spread terror throughout the country districts. PEISLEY, GARDINER, GILBERT, are each and all "bush natives;" at first stockmen, drovers, or horse breakers, suspected or found guilty of cattle stealing, and taking to the bush to avoid as long as possible apprehension and punishment, and so entering upon a career of crime that has conducted PEISLEY, and is likely to conduct the others, to the gallows. But the ignominy and distress which these men have brought down upon their own heads is not confined to them. The influence they have exercised over their young countrymen has been of the most pernicious kind and disastrous consequences. Already some who have been misled by GARDINER, are doomed to expiate their complicity with his criminal designs and doings, by an ignominious death on the scaffold.
The article continued:
A given number of GARDINERS and GILBERTS, obtaining the ascendancy, must soon transform Australia into a howling wilderness, where men more savage and unreasoning than wild beasts could only anticipate starvation by mutual slaughter. But the class we are speaking of are not generally capable of reflecting upon the effects of a certain course of action upon the general interests of society, or upon their own individual welfare as bound up therewith. They have never been taught to think, and scarcely to read. They are not, therefore, readers of newspapers, and have no turn for politics. And, as might naturally have been expected, whatever smatterings of speculative politics the more intelligent amongst them possess are decidedly obstructive. For "bush natives," as a general role, are the rankest of colonial Tories. (Tories-a dispossessed Irishman who resorted to banditry)
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| J.H.M. Abbott. c. 1919. |
A great many ex-convicts — 'oldhands' was the generic term— were scattered about the bush on small holdings, and a large proportion of them were hard-working, honest people who were doing well in the development of the country they had been compelled to adopt. But nearly always, deeply ingrained in their characters, was an antagonism to the laws that had made them exiles and to those who administered them. Their sympathies were wholly with anyone who made war on society, and their offspring very naturally inherited these views. Besides these people, there were innumerable wanderers about the countryside—shepherds, bullock-drivers, axemen, shearers and drovers—and when they were working together their principal intellectual recreation was spinning yarns, or listening to them, about the convict days. Men like Jack Donohoe, Brady, William Westwood (Jacky Jacky), or Martin Cash had songs made about their more conspicuous exploits, or about their inherent nobility of nature.
Years later, Frank Gardiner himself reflected on why young men were
drawn to the wilderness and subsequently into the world of bushranging.
He expressed his thoughts as follows:
"From want of suitable, employment. Young men can find no employment in the country districts except herding sheep or stock-riding. The latter occupation leads to horse-stealing simply because you become wholly engrossed in horseflesh, and the crime is so easily committed that you do not think of the consequences. Horse-stealing and horse "sojering" are of everyday occurrence in certain parts of the country."
When asked why Gardiner replied:
"I do not know; I was young at the time and spent my money as quickly as I got it. I thought it an easy life for a while."
The regularity of the Ben Hall's outrages and many successes were often due to the ability to remain one step ahead of the frequently befuddled NSW police. Hall and his cohorts' achievements and easy access to money were facilitated by reliable intelligence. The Cockatoo Squatter and the bush telegraph all eager for some easy cash or goods. Furthermore, they had a wide selection of high-quality thoroughbred horses and a variety of firearms easily obtainable from many larger stations. In contrast, the NSW police had to contend with inferior horses and subpar equipment. The law enforcers also had to deal with numerous settlers who were in league with the desperadoes and had established a 'Cone of Silence' against the police.
The regularity of the Ben Hall's outrages and many successes were often due to the ability to remain one step ahead of the frequently befuddled NSW police. Hall and his cohorts' achievements and easy access to money were facilitated by reliable intelligence. The Cockatoo Squatter and the bush telegraph all eager for some easy cash or goods. Furthermore, they had a wide selection of high-quality thoroughbred horses and a variety of firearms easily obtainable from many larger stations. In contrast, the NSW police had to contend with inferior horses and subpar equipment. The law enforcers also had to deal with numerous settlers who were in league with the desperadoes and had established a 'Cone of Silence' against the police.
In the short term, the bushrangers held the high ground in the field of battle.
Note: Cockatoo Squatter was a small farmer living in remote districts often illegally on land not leased to them.
However, an article published in the 'Sydney Morning Herald' on 17th February 1863 expressed hope that the NSW Government, through the new police and the courts, would soon eliminate all the troubled districts' bushrangers. This included their extensive network of supporters and Cockatoo squatters. Expectations were high, as reported:
However, an article published in the 'Sydney Morning Herald' on 17th February 1863 expressed hope that the NSW Government, through the new police and the courts, would soon eliminate all the troubled districts' bushrangers. This included their extensive network of supporters and Cockatoo squatters. Expectations were high, as reported:
Acting under the direct instructions of the Executive Council through the Chief Secretary, the Inspector-General is adopting stringent measures to put an end to those acts of bushranging which have been so frequent during the last eighteen months or two years. It is understood that a considerable amount of information is in the hands of the Government which is likely to lead, not only to the apprehension of the parties actively engaged in these lawless deeds but also of persons in various stations of life who have afforded them harbour and succour. Should success attend the exertions of the police with regard to the latter class of offenders, the public will be surprised to find that Gardiner and Co have been sheltered and supplied with provisions if not with the munitions of war, by individuals who carry their heads somewhat high amongst their fellow colonists.
The outrooting of what a witness at the late trials designated "a public-house, but which had no license," and the cancelling of the squatting licenses of those parties whom the Government have good reason to suspect are, or who have been, harbouring bushrangers, will, it is generally expected, be resorted to without delay. A considerable number of picked men, detectives and other police, have been already dispatched to the lawless district. Captain Battye is engaged in scouring the country about Murrumburrah, Burrowa, Marengo, and the diggings, and he will now be ably supported in his movements by some of the pick of the detectives. All accounts that have recently reached us of acts of "sticking up"' state that the robbers chiefly sought for firearms, although well-armed, themselves. This would lead to the supposition that the outlaws had increased in number, and that guns and revolvers were required for the recruits. The police station at Bogolong (Pinnacle) was attacked for that purpose, and it may, therefore, be expected that unless the police are successful in breaking up the gang, some desperate work will be done, before the winter sets in.
Accordingly, for the townsfolk of Forbes, the ease in which the Pinnacle Police station was raided by Ben Hall and other outrages taking place daily created great concern. The citizens of rural towns were on edge due to the scarcity of police protection. The burgeoning populations were so large and the allure of gold so prevalent that manpower for the constabulary was almost nonexistent. Numerous instances occurred where the local police were led astray by endless wild goose chases, a result of the misinformation propagated by Ben Hall and others.
The 'Lachlan Observer' on February 18th, 1863, noted the police deployment for various Western NSW towns saw no fewer than 47 troopers stationed at Forbes, a town with a fluctuating population of around 30,000. Additionally, 22 police were stationed at Young, home to an itinerant population of 10,000, and 17 police at Bathurst, a community of 5,000.
In certain situations, local residents stepped in to fill the void, adopting the roles of self-styled constables. These individuals often administered vigilante-style justice, doling out summary punishments to transgressors, as highlighted:
In certain situations, local residents stepped in to fill the void, adopting the roles of self-styled constables. These individuals often administered vigilante-style justice, doling out summary punishments to transgressors, as highlighted:
A few nights ago, a man was bailed up by a fellow opposite Dave White's establishment in Rankin street, and, on his calling out lustily, the pugilist-to his credit be it spoken-rushed to the rescue and administered a sound thrashing to the would be robber, The town is now almost destitute of police protection, the whole of the detectives being employed elsewhere, and the police generally being either at Orange, Bathurst, or some other distant locality attending to their various duties. Seeing that the Pinnacle police station has recently been taken possession of by the bushrangers, in order to secure the firearms and ammunition, we would advise sergeant Rush to "keep his powder dry," and make ready for a similar, visitation. (Sgt Rush was the Forbes lock-up keeper.)
As Ben Hall was igniting chaos across the western plains, other long-past criminal activities related to the Hall family at Murrurundi were brought to light in parliament, events still vivid in the memories of some. 'The Empire' newspaper in 1863 revisited one such episode concerning the past criminal exploits of Ben Hall's father. This incident was commented on by Mr. Joseph Jehoshaphat Harpur, a Parliamentarian.
Harpur represented the Hunter Valley seat of Patrick Plains, NSW. Importantly, Harpur was the son of Sarah Walsh, the stepmother to Bridget Hall and hence Ben Hall's stepmother-in-law. Given his close familial ties, Harpur was privy to all of Ben Hall's antics and robberies, and it is plausible that he benefited indirectly from the proceeds of those criminal activities via Elen Maguire. Therefore, Harpur was keenly aware of the activities within the bushranger fraternity.
After all, three of his mother's stepdaughters, who were also Harpur's stepsisters, were involved in relationships with individuals deeply entrenched in criminal activities. Harpur shared his insights:
As Ben Hall was igniting chaos across the western plains, other long-past criminal activities related to the Hall family at Murrurundi were brought to light in parliament, events still vivid in the memories of some. 'The Empire' newspaper in 1863 revisited one such episode concerning the past criminal exploits of Ben Hall's father. This incident was commented on by Mr. Joseph Jehoshaphat Harpur, a Parliamentarian.
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| Joseph Jehoshaphat Harpur |
After all, three of his mother's stepdaughters, who were also Harpur's stepsisters, were involved in relationships with individuals deeply entrenched in criminal activities. Harpur shared his insights:
I remember when old Ben Hall robbed one Brown of a splendid horse, which he almost worshipped. A gentleman gave information to Brown about the robbers but charged him to make no use of the information because if it were suspected that he had given the information, he would not be safe for a moment. The man Brown came to him (Mr Harpur), who was then young and daring. He went with the owner of the horses, in pursuit of the robbers, and was near losing his life. Such was the state of things on the Hunter in the time of old Ben Hall, the father of the present Ben Hall, who had always been bad. They were connected with a gang of cattle stealers.⁵⁶
Undoubtedly, Harpur's intimate knowledge of the Lachlan bushrangers was likely informed through his mother. His familial ties subsequently tarnished his reputation within the NSW Parliament, as he was perceived as being lenient due to his family's associations. This leniency was notably absent in his stance towards the rigorous measures proposed by the Cowper Government to address the bushranger menace. In July 1863, Harpur's perceived soft approach was brought to light:
No one would suppose that the hon. member (Mr Harpur) would put before the House a statement he did not himself believe, or that he would advocate the cause of robbers and murderers—no, not even were some of them his own blood relatives.
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| Lambing Flat. c. 1862. Courtesy NLA. |
In the course of the debate, it transpired that Sir Frederick Pottinger had sent a friend to demand satisfaction from Mr Harpur, the member for Patrick's Plains, who had some time since stigmatised Sir Frederick as a coward.
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| Lambing Flat. Boorowa Street. c. 1862. Courtesy NLA. |
As for some days, the whole town has been in consternation, and several rumours of Gardiner intending to make a general attack on the town have been afloat.
The daring raid on the Pinnacle Police Station by Ben Hall and Daley,
coupled with their narrow escape and gunfire exchange with Constable
Hollister, was sensational news. Bell's Life in Sydney and Sporting
Chronicle, in its edition dated 21st February 1863, keenly dissected the
event. The correspondent seemed particularly fascinated by the items
stolen from the police station by Hall, speculating on their possible
future use.
The robbery itself must astonish every one;- to attack a police station is certainly one of the most daring acts probably ever heard of. The motive, however, is the next consideration. The stealing of the police clothing is rather a mysterious affair; bushrangers would scarcely carry about property of this description, for sale, neither would they wear it except to accomplish some daring outrage in the disguise of mounted troopers; what that will be time will tell, but it would not surprise us if the escort or some of the banks were stuck-up. This, at first sight, may appear an imaginary conclusion, but when it is borne in mind that a 'number of bushrangers (we believe a large one) are infesting the roads of this district, we do not consider it at all imaginary. Look at the late robberies at Macnash's station, Mr Tout's, Herbert’s, at the West Lead, and last, not least, Mr Dickinson's; consider the property taken in almost all instances;-firearms of all descriptions-ammunition, even to the wadding, clothing, saddles, and bridles! What does all this mean but that the force is to be well armed and mounted. We are fully aware the horses are a secondary consideration, as these ruffians can very easily help them self to horses at the various stations, which are no doubt as well known to them as the wild bush itself.
Unfazed by having a murderer in their midst, Ben Hall and his gang soon set their sights on the small town of Little Wombat, near Lambing Flat. Their target was the general store owned by Mr Meyer Solomon and his wife, Julia. As the gang walked through the doors of the store, Julia Solomon was just days away from giving birth to their second child, Samuel, who would be born on the 23rd of February, 1863.
In an ironic twist, many members of Hall's gang had chosen to dress as police troopers for this particular heist, possibly using uniforms they had stolen from the Pinnacle Police Station. This tactic, while certainly bold, must have caused immense confusion and fear amongst the local populace, making the gang's lawless activities even more disruptive and threatening.
In an ironic twist, many members of Hall's gang had chosen to dress as police troopers for this particular heist, possibly using uniforms they had stolen from the Pinnacle Police Station. This tactic, while certainly bold, must have caused immense confusion and fear amongst the local populace, making the gang's lawless activities even more disruptive and threatening.
It appears that the robbery was perpetrated by four men dressed in police uniform, and hence supposed to be the same parties who lately robbed the police station at the Pinnacle.
At around 4 pm, Hall's gang arrived with their pack horses, ready to carry away their ill-gotten goods. Initially, they faced resistance from the store's owner, Meyer Solomon, who fired a shot, reportedly grazing one of the gang member's necks. Undeterred, Solomon soon fled to the safety of a nearby Chinese camp.
However, a moment of remarkable bravery came from an unexpected source - the shop boy. Seizing one of Solomon's revolvers from the counter, he aimed at one of the bushrangers. In a chilling moment, another gang member seized a pregnant Mrs Solomon, threatening to "blow Mrs Solomon's brains out" unless the boy dropped his weapon. The boy, recognising the danger to Mrs Solomon, reluctantly dropped the gun, commenting, "If it hadn't been for Mrs Solomon I'd have stopped your run."
This robbery was widely reported, including in 'The Newcastle Chronicle and Hunter River District News' on Saturday 7th March 1863. The evidence presented in these reports suggested that it was indeed Jack O'Meally who had earlier fired the fatal shot that killed Mr Cirkel. (In colonial Australia, hundreds of newspapers existed and re-produced the same articles from their original source thru the Electric Telegraph.)
However, a moment of remarkable bravery came from an unexpected source - the shop boy. Seizing one of Solomon's revolvers from the counter, he aimed at one of the bushrangers. In a chilling moment, another gang member seized a pregnant Mrs Solomon, threatening to "blow Mrs Solomon's brains out" unless the boy dropped his weapon. The boy, recognising the danger to Mrs Solomon, reluctantly dropped the gun, commenting, "If it hadn't been for Mrs Solomon I'd have stopped your run."
This robbery was widely reported, including in 'The Newcastle Chronicle and Hunter River District News' on Saturday 7th March 1863. The evidence presented in these reports suggested that it was indeed Jack O'Meally who had earlier fired the fatal shot that killed Mr Cirkel. (In colonial Australia, hundreds of newspapers existed and re-produced the same articles from their original source thru the Electric Telegraph.)
The Newcastle Chronicle and Hunter River District News
Saturday 7th March 1863
Provincial News.
Following the robbery, the use of the stolen Pinnacle police items appeared in the 'Sydney News:
Intelligence has reached the town of the robbery of Mr Solomon's store at Wombat near Lambing Flat on Saturday last. It appears that the robbery was perpetrated by four men dressed in police uniform, and hence supposed to be the same parties who lately robbed the police station at the Pinnacle. They took away two pack-horses loaded with the property. Mr Solomon reports having fired at and wounded one of the robbers in the neck, and that he can identify him.
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| Typical country store. c. 1860's. Image courtesy NLA. |
The article gave a vivid account of the audacity and ruthlessness of Ben Hall's gang during the robbery. Solomon recounted how they burst into his store in the middle of the afternoon, their pack horses waiting outside to carry off their spoils. Despite the terrifying threat to his wife's life, his shop boy showed remarkable courage, attempting to stand up to the intruders.
In addition to detailing the events of the robbery, the report also served to highlight the brutal and lawless nature of the bushrangers. Their threats against Mrs. Solomon, who was heavily pregnant at the time, were particularly shocking, showing a clear disregard for innocent lives.
The eyewitness account provided by Mr. Solomon served to heighten the sense of fear and urgency felt by local communities in the face of these escalating crimes. The report also shed further light on the identity of Jack O'Meally as the individual who had earlier fired the fatal shot that killed Mr. Cirkel.
A most daring wholesale robbery on Burrangong, at which shots were exchanged between the robbers and the robbed, but fortunately the latter escaped unkilled. Although happily unattended with the same fearful atrocity perpetrated only a few days previously at Stoney Creek when poor Mr Cirkel lost his life in an attempt to protect his property, yet this affair is a more extensive robbery than the murderers accomplished at Stoney Creek. The victim in this instance was Mr Solomon storekeeper at Big Wombat and also at Little Wombat and the robbery was committed at the latter place about fifteen miles from Young, and about five miles from Big Wombat. The particulars as I have learned from Mr Solomon are these:- About four o'clock in the afternoon of Saturday, four men mounted, and equipped with firearms something approaching the style of police in private clothes, were observed by Mrs Solomon riding towards the store, when she immediately gave the alarm to Mr Solomon who, having plenty of firearms at hand ready for action, instantly seized a musket, and ordered the door to be closed, but instead of obeying the order, the lad went outside to have a look at the men and discarding the repeated order to come in and shut the door, he cried out 'Troopers!" Troopers!" under the impression that the robbers were mounted, constables. Immediately on coming up to the door two of the fellows presented carbines (similar to those used by the police) at Mr Solomon who at the same instant levelled his musket at them and fired the ball grazing the neck of one of the fellows and tearing the collar of his coat: Two shots were fired in return, and the bullets lodged in some shirts on a shelf nearly behind Mr Solomon.
By this time two of the ruffians had entered the store and seized the lad so that they could not be fired at without placing the boy’s life in danger. Mr Solomon then rushed out at the back, and made for a Chinaman's tent for help and in so doing fell headlong into the muddy bed of a creek which he had to cross. He was closely pursued by two of the robbers, who captured him in the mud and assuring him they had no intention of injuring his person, ultimately conducted him back to the store, and placed him under guard alongside Mrs Solomon and the lad. During the chase after Mr Solomon, all the four bushrangers left the store for a second, and with admirable courage and presence of mind the lad jumped over the counter, got hold of a revolver, presented it at one of the fellows who had returned to the store, and was about to pull the trigger, when the robber held a similar instrument of death close to Mrs Solomon's head, and said, "If you fire I'll blow her brains out."
The counteracting threat stayed the hand, and immediately the return of another of the robbers compelled him to surrender, but with undaunted courage, he said, "Had it not been for Mrs Solomon, I would have stopped your run;" and for this noble exhibition of spirit one of the villains knocked him down and said, "If you want a pistol, get up and I'll give you one, and let me see if you are game to use it.
The lad instantly sprang on to his feet, and boldly held out his hand for the pistol saying, "Give it to me, and you'll see what I'll do" The coward who had given the challenge refused to give the pistol and obliged the lad to sit down The other two having returned with Mr Solomon, who was also placed under guard the robbers, after taking all the cash and gold they could find, amounting in all to only about £6-besides about one ounce and a half of spurious gold which they also took, then began deliberately to select goods of all descriptions-blankets, men and women's wearing apparel and boots, ribbons of various patterns, silk and cambric handkerchiefs, Neva candles, blacking and blacking brushes, all the firearms they could find, several pounds' weight of gunpowder, besides a quantity of jewellery, which they said was for the ladies on the mountains. They also took a supply of groceries, raisins, currants, &c, and helped themselves freely to fancy biscuits and lollies. Some idea of the extent of this robbery and of the cool, deliberate manner in which it was perpetrated, may be formed from the fact that it was commenced about four o clock in the afternoon, and the robbers did not leave the premises until nearly seven o'clock in the evening, when they departed in peace having four horses, two of which they also stole from Mr Solomon, heavily laden with the booty to the value of about £200. Of course, they could only travel very slowly, and thus even opportunity was afforded for pursuing them, but no pursuit was made.
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| NSW Police Gazette, 11th March 1863. |
This portrayal painted a picture of a police force that was either incapacitated by fear or hampered by apathy. The bushrangers were running rampant, and the police, who should have been the protectors of the community, seemed unable to counteract the escalating threat.
The police's actions, or lack thereof, further frustrated and frightened the local communities. People looked to the police for protection and justice, but they were being let down. The authorities' seeming inability to control the situation only served to embolden the bushrangers, allowing them to continue their reign of terror with seeming impunity and much support from those willing to be bush-telegraphs.
One policeman only was on duty at Little Wombat, and of course he could not leave the station, or rather the apology for one, for fear it too should be robbed of perhaps an old corroded pistol or two. At any rate, two Chinamen volunteered to ride into town to give information at the police camp at Young, and the affair was known in town about eight o'clock in the evening, yet strange to say, the troopers did not arrive at Mr Solomon’s place until about two o'clock am on Sunday, when detective Wolf, the sub inspector of police, with his gloves on, and two troopers arrived, expressed their surprise, but from the darkness of the night, could not trace the bushrangers. At day light, they succeeded in tracing them; for upwards of ten miles, in the direction of the Weddin Mountains, where, from the want of a tracker, and exhaustion, as most of the police had just returned from Yass, they were obliged to discontinue the pursuit.
The bushrangers who orchestrated the Solomon's robbery included Ben Hall, John Gilbert, John O'Meally, Patsy Daley, and Patrick O'Meally. Among them, Ben Hall seemed to take the leading role, directing the group with an authority that often led him to be mistaken for the notorious Frank Gardiner.
This confusion could likely be attributed to Hall's seniority compared to the rest of the gang, as well as his commanding presence. His previous reputation as a respected stockman and station owner may have endowed him with a demeanour that, when turned to criminal pursuits, was reminiscent of the charismatic and influential Gardiner. This inadvertent association bolstered Hall's reputation, unintentionally casting him in a role that he was swiftly growing into: the feared leader of a notorious gang of bushrangers.
This confusion could likely be attributed to Hall's seniority compared to the rest of the gang, as well as his commanding presence. His previous reputation as a respected stockman and station owner may have endowed him with a demeanour that, when turned to criminal pursuits, was reminiscent of the charismatic and influential Gardiner. This inadvertent association bolstered Hall's reputation, unintentionally casting him in a role that he was swiftly growing into: the feared leader of a notorious gang of bushrangers.
The ruffian, supposed to be Gardiner, ordered and directed everything that was to be done, pushing and swearing, at the others if they did not obey his orders quickly enough.
We cannot look upon Gardiner us a myth, though we might almost consider him ubiquitous. Not a highway robbery takes place, not, a store or station is stuck-up, but the cry immediately is "Gardiner,"-" Gardiner!" Why, he; would want a railroad, with a carriage, to carry him sixty miles an hour, to be often in the different places people accuse him of being in.
However, the reality was quite different. Following Gardiner's narrow escape from the clutches of Sir Frederick Pottinger in August 1862, he and his lover, Catherine Brown, had left the Lachlan area. Around late October 1862, the pair embarked on a challenging journey north towards the Peak Downs goldfield, via Rockhampton. Finally reaching Apis Creek in Queensland, they had travelled an impressive distance of approximately 900 miles as the crow flies. Their journey was made in a spring cart through terrains that varied from challenging to outright inhospitable.
Despite this, the press was awash with speculations and various reports regarding Gardiner's supposed location. Some believed he had relocated to South Australia in the guise of a priest, others suggested he had gone to Portland, Victoria or Gippsland where his family lived. There were even assumptions that Gilbert's family was based in South Australia. These reports highlighted the widespread confusion and the prevalent rumours surrounding Gardiner's whereabouts. A case in point being a report in the 'Launceston Examiner' on Tuesday 30th September 1862, which was further fueling the speculative fire.
However, the reality was quite different. Following Gardiner's narrow escape from the clutches of Sir Frederick Pottinger in August 1862, he and his lover, Catherine Brown, had left the Lachlan area. Around late October 1862, the pair embarked on a challenging journey north towards the Peak Downs goldfield, via Rockhampton. Finally reaching Apis Creek in Queensland, they had travelled an impressive distance of approximately 900 miles as the crow flies. Their journey was made in a spring cart through terrains that varied from challenging to outright inhospitable.
Despite this, the press was awash with speculations and various reports regarding Gardiner's supposed location. Some believed he had relocated to South Australia in the guise of a priest, others suggested he had gone to Portland, Victoria or Gippsland where his family lived. There were even assumptions that Gilbert's family was based in South Australia. These reports highlighted the widespread confusion and the prevalent rumours surrounding Gardiner's whereabouts. A case in point being a report in the 'Launceston Examiner' on Tuesday 30th September 1862, which was further fueling the speculative fire.
The following is the latest respecting Gardiner: "Gardiner, the supposed leader of N.S.W. escort robbery, is reported as either at Adelaide or Portland Bay accompanied by a woman named Brown, in boy's clothes. The family of John Gilbert, who is charged with being one of the same gang, resides in Adelaide. Gilbert is supposed to be either there or in Melbourne.
Just where were they! Gilbert had resurfaced in the Weddin in January 1863 after a short stint in New Zealand, but 'The Darkie' was long gone.
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| "next time you bring me here it will be for something, and don't you forget it."- Ben Hall. |
It was at Toogong, where the coach used to change horses, that I had a talk with him about his trial. He told me that the next time the police should want him he would give them a "jant", that is they would have a lot of trouble to take him. I little thought that his word would come true.
Certainly, the transformation of Ben Hall was a drastic one. He had morphed from a respected squatter to a feared bushranger, his reputation and societal standing irreversibly damaged. His transition into a life of criminality was both shocking and tragic, signifying a complete abandonment of the life he had built as a farmer.
Mr Redman, a member of Parliament and Hall's former defence counsel, commented later on Hall's character and the circumstances that led to his turn to bushranging.
Mr Redman, a member of Parliament and Hall's former defence counsel, commented later on Hall's character and the circumstances that led to his turn to bushranging.
Ben Hall, prior to his entering upon the career of a bushranger, bore an unexceptionable character. He was well known in the Lachlan District as a hardworking, industrious, and honest man, who had by his own efforts risen from a humble position to be the proprietor of a station. A squatter of that district stated that he had known Hall intimately for some years, and that his character for honesty and industry stood so high that he would have trusted him with all he possessed.
Unfortunately, Hall became implicated in a horse-stealing case, and although the charges were dismissed, his reputation had been tarnished. The police, however, seemed to have marked him down, and on more than one occasion he was brought up on charges which were later proved to be entirely false. This injustice, and the suspicion which was constantly thrown upon him, caused Hall to become reckless, and he eventually threw in his lot with the bushrangers.
He was a man who might have been reclaimed, who might have been made a useful member of society, but the law and its administration instead of reaching out a hand to save him, pushed him to the very brink of the precipice, and then left him to his fate. No wonder that, feeling himself outlawed and persecuted, he should become a desperate and dangerous criminal.
Redman's depiction of Hall's story stirred sympathy and evoked questions about the workings of the judicial system. According to Redman, Hall was driven to a life of crime due to continuous targeting by the police, despite the charges against him being proved false repeatedly. It was the failure by the systems heavy hand, Redman argued, that transformed a hardworking, honest man into one of the most notorious bushrangers in Australian history.
Some of the bushrangers were the creatures of circumstances. He remembered the imprisonment of Ben Hall and young O'Meally, who was incarcerated with his father. Month after month they were kept confined without any charge against them, and against his (Mr R.'s) repeated remonstrance. The family and antecedents of Ben Hall were credible, but after he came out of prison there was no incentive to virtue; he knew he was watched by the police, and he felt disgraced by being imprisoned, and not being a man of great mind, he took to the bush.⁵⁸
Indeed, while Mr Redman's perspective provides a sympathetic lens through which to view Ben Hall's life, it is vital to remember that it does not justify the actions that Hall took. It's important to note that, while he may have been subject to minor injustices' and persecution, his response—to embark on a violent path of criminality—holds no excuse
Hall's lack of formal education might have limited his options in some ways, but he but he had established a fine cattle property was still capable of making better choices. However, it's clear that he was through associations with Gardiner not just a passive recipient of circumstances. His expert knowledge in bushcraft was to make him a formidable adversary for the law enforcement agencies trying to apprehend him.
Ultimately, Ben Hall made a choice to lead a life marked by violence and crime. He perpetrated or was involved in serious crimes such as murder, attempted murder, kidnapping, theft, arson, intimidation, assault, and robbery, spreading fear and distress. His actions caused harm to many. Therefore, while it is crucial to understand the circumstances that might have led him down such a path, it is equally important not to romanticise or excuse his choices and actions.
Indeed, it's crucial to dispel the notion of the romanticised "gentleman bushranger" when it comes to Ben Hall. The many accounts of his criminal actions certainly illustrate a man who was far from the victim he's sometimes portrayed as. Rather, his behaviours were characterised by aggression, violence, and lawlessness. Hall made deliberate choices to engage in criminal activities, threatening the lives of many he targeted.Indeed, while Mr Redman's perspective provides a sympathetic lens through which to view Ben Hall's life, it is vital to remember that it does not justify the actions that Hall took. It's important to note that, while he may have been subject to minor injustices' and persecution, his response—to embark on a violent path of criminality—holds no excuse
Hall's lack of formal education might have limited his options in some ways, but he but he had established a fine cattle property was still capable of making better choices. However, it's clear that he was through associations with Gardiner not just a passive recipient of circumstances. His expert knowledge in bushcraft was to make him a formidable adversary for the law enforcement agencies trying to apprehend him.
Ultimately, Ben Hall made a choice to lead a life marked by violence and crime. He perpetrated or was involved in serious crimes such as murder, attempted murder, kidnapping, theft, arson, intimidation, assault, and robbery, spreading fear and distress. His actions caused harm to many. Therefore, while it is crucial to understand the circumstances that might have led him down such a path, it is equally important not to romanticise or excuse his choices and actions.
It's important to note that he did not operate in a vacuum. He was influenced by individuals like Gardiner and sought their approval, adopting the same blend of charm and menace in his interactions with others. This dual persona could have been an attempt to maintain some level of public sympathy or gain protection from those he encountered. However, such calculated manipulations do not negate the seriousness of his crimes.
Furthermore, the assertion that his actions were due to external circumstances such as police pressure or marital troubles lacks substance when weighed against his subsequent actions. The choices Hall made were not reactionary but premeditated and strategic, indicating a degree of agency in his actions.
Next in the annuls of outrage Hall and his associates attempt to kill a police inspector and a blacktracker illustrating a level of aggression and lawlessness that characterised Hall's activities. Such instances highlight that despite any perceived veneer of respectability or charm, at his core, Hall was a violent and dangerous man.
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| John Oxley Norton. (1829-1880) Private Source. Never Before Published. |
The presence of these men was suspicious, and it was clear that this chance meeting was about to take a dangerous turn. Norton and Dargin prepared themselves for a potential confrontation. In these perilous times, officers of the law had to always be ready for encounters with outlaws who were just as likely to fight as they were to flee. The event and outcome are narrated by Inspector Norton in his own words:
I was proceeding through the neighbourhood of Wheogo, accompanied by a black tracker, each of us leading a horse; about 9 o'clock I saw two men riding, about 500 yards before us, one of whom had a lead horse, and the other a gun on his thigh; I beckoned to the tracker, who was on the hill opposite, and he came down; on nearing the men, they made off; we followed them for some distance into the scrub, and got off, and then fired on them; we then returned to our horses, to pick up our lead horses, and, on preparing to start, saw them again watching us; we followed them again, and fired on them, when, finding our horses unable to overtake them, we returned to some huts, and remained there for twenty minutes or half an hour; seeing no more of them, I thought it advisable to go to the police station to get some men, who were to have met us in the neighbourhood, to follow them; about three or four miles from those huts, the black fellow called out that there were three men coming up behind us; they were so near that I could hear them; I could hear them shouting, "Bail-up," evidently with the intention of stopping us; the black fellow passed me and left his lead horse; I dropped mine also and turned round, and, on seeing me do so, the tracker stood at about fifty yards distance.
"The three men were scattered at about 100 yards apart, one on each side of the road, and one near the road; the man on the left side advanced within eighty yards of me, and then commenced firing; the man on the left charged and fired a double-barrelled gun; I cannot swear to the man on the right firing his rifle, but he fired a revolver; the man I supposed to be O'Meally took up his position about eighty yards from me; Hall and the prisoner a little farther off; O'Meally cried out, "Throw up your arms," repeatedly; they then commenced firing with revolvers; we fired several return shots; they might have fired fifteen or eighteen shots; my ammunition was then expended, and O'Meally with Hall rode up to me; the latter presented a revolver at me, while O'Meally and Daley ran after the black-fellow, and fired after him; after a few minutes, Hall rode up to me, and said that they had nothing against, me and that I might go.
"The three men were scattered at about 100 yards apart, one on each side of the road, and one near the road; the man on the left side advanced within eighty yards of me, and then commenced firing; the man on the left charged and fired a double-barrelled gun; I cannot swear to the man on the right firing his rifle, but he fired a revolver; the man I supposed to be O'Meally took up his position about eighty yards from me; Hall and the prisoner a little farther off; O'Meally cried out, "Throw up your arms," repeatedly; they then commenced firing with revolvers; we fired several return shots; they might have fired fifteen or eighteen shots; my ammunition was then expended, and O'Meally with Hall rode up to me; the latter presented a revolver at me, while O'Meally and Daley ran after the black-fellow, and fired after him; after a few minutes, Hall rode up to me, and said that they had nothing against, me and that I might go.
"Hall spoke of a trooper named Hollister, who had threatened to shoot him, and that he would return the compliment when he got hold of him; Hall returned me a revolver which he said was no good to him; he spoke of Sir Frederick Pottinger; how Sir Frederick had brought him several times into Forbes, and had him remanded from time to time, until really the magistrates were inclined to believe that there was some charge against him, and those, with him; that it was his opinion that Sir Frederick detained them till he could make up a case; Hall referred also to the case of young Walsh who was then suffering in the lock-up, as he had suffered before; I asked for my horse, and he said that I could take them; but he inquired if there was anything particular in the swag on one of them; I told him there was nothing of any consequence; the three detained a Government revolver, a Government carbine which the black-fellow had dropped, a Government saddle and bridle, and the horse on which the black-fellow rode, remarking that they would shoot the horse, and so teach people not to lend horses to policemen; the man who I supposed to be O'Meally, said to me, "you had better not give our description when you return to town"; they then rode round, and picked up their discharged arms, and cleared off; I cannot swear positively that the prisoner is one of the men.
"I never saw O'Meally but once before, and the prisoner never but on that occasion; I could not have been close to the prisoner more than three or four minutes; Hall was the one who was in conversation with me, and whom I would swear positively to; the names were given to me by the black-fellow as Hall, Daley, and O'Meally; O'Meally was dressed differently to the prisoner, the hat is exactly like what I have seen Daley wear; have seen the prisoner twice since he was apprehended, and I identify him so far as that to the best of my belief he is the man; I will not swear positively to him; while the others were away Hall fed his horse at a distance from me; I was unarmed, and he had a revolver in his belt and a gun in his hand; I did not care to go near him; he looked as if keeping guard.
Note: Why would Ben Hall want to kill Hollister if he was innocent of participation in the Pinnacle robbery?
Billy Dargin, finding his commander captured and their ammunition expended, was pursued by two of the men. Despite the tense situation, Dargin, through some quick thinking and deft negotiation, managed to escape on foot dodging tress and running bare foot over the hard stone ground for the Pinnacle Station roughly eight miles distant. The two bushrangers pursued him for several minutes before returning to their companion, allowing Dargin to continue his escape unscathed.
With his commanding officer held by the bushrangers. Upon reaching the station, Dargin arranged for a rider to take the news of Inspector Norton's capture to Forbes. A contemporary newspaper article provides more insight into Dargin's actions during this intense episode, highlighting his courage and resourcefulness in a bid to save his leader:
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| Artists impression of Billy fleeing after Norton capture. c. 1933. NLA. |
With his commanding officer held by the bushrangers. Upon reaching the station, Dargin arranged for a rider to take the news of Inspector Norton's capture to Forbes. A contemporary newspaper article provides more insight into Dargin's actions during this intense episode, highlighting his courage and resourcefulness in a bid to save his leader:
Billy, the black, being the only person with him at the time, escaped and had arrived without his horse.⁵⁹
Dargin reported too:
Constable Hogan who immediately sent word to Forbes telegraphed the particulars to Captain M'Lerie. Six mounted constables were immediately dispatched from Forbes to the assistance of Mr Norton and on Monday afternoon twenty mounted troopers and twelve-foot police left Sydney by the five o'clock train for the Weddin Mountains with the same object in view. A further detachment followed in the course of yesterday.⁶⁰
Unfortunately, in the era of the 1860s, the logistics of quickly dispatching a force from Sydney to Forbes would have been challenging. While a train line existed, it only stretched as far as Penrith. From there, it would take approximately a week of hard riding to reach Forbes, an area notorious for its rugged terrain and isolated location.
George Boyd, a new recruit to the NSW police force at the time, would later recall the frenzy in Sydney following the news of Inspector Norton's capture. As he tells it, the force was in a flurry of activity, scrambling to assemble a team of troopers to be dispatched as soon as possible. The goal was clear: apprehend the trio responsible for Norton's capture and end their reign of terror in the region.
Boyd's recounting gives a vivid picture of the urgency and intensity that gripped the police force in response to the lawlessness of Ben Hall and his gang. Despite their efforts, the challenges of distance and limited resources made it difficult for the law enforcement of the time to effectively contain the bushrangers' activities. The Sun, Monday 19th August 1912:
George Boyd, a new recruit to the NSW police force at the time, would later recall the frenzy in Sydney following the news of Inspector Norton's capture. As he tells it, the force was in a flurry of activity, scrambling to assemble a team of troopers to be dispatched as soon as possible. The goal was clear: apprehend the trio responsible for Norton's capture and end their reign of terror in the region.
Boyd's recounting gives a vivid picture of the urgency and intensity that gripped the police force in response to the lawlessness of Ben Hall and his gang. Despite their efforts, the challenges of distance and limited resources made it difficult for the law enforcement of the time to effectively contain the bushrangers' activities. The Sun, Monday 19th August 1912:
Very short space had passed when the new recruit found himself actively involved in the general excitement resulting from a long succession of bold and successful outrages. "We had only been at the depot a few weeks," said the ex-sergeant, during a chat at his pleasant home at Windsor, "when we were called to the front. To speak exactly, we had been in training just seven weeks when the startling news arrived of the capture of Superintendent Norton by [sic] Ben Hall. That news threw the barracks into a tumult. With it came an urgent appeal for reinforcements. There were all the available police engaged in the hunt of the outlaws already, but they were not nearly enough. And there were very few men at the depot, even including the recruits. But Superintendent Black got together a company of 22 of us, nearly all raw recruits, and we started for the scene of war. We got off the mark very promptly. I believe we were all in the train with our horses and equipment, inside an hour. "The railway at that time went only as far as Penrith. It took us three days to get to Bathurst and we were all in the highest spirits possible, at the near prospect of excitement. But disappointment awaited us at the new headquarters. We learnt with satisfaction that the bushrangers had released Norton, unharmed. But it did not sort well with our desires to distinguish ourselves to hear that the outlaws had absolutely disappeared, no one knowing within a few hundred miles where they were working.
Boyd's career coincided with a tumultuous period in Australian history, marked by the notorious activities of bushrangers. The most infamous of these events involved the audacious capture of Inspector Norton by bushranger Ben Hall, which sent shock-waves of disbelief and embarrassment throughout the New South Wales Police Force.
The bushrangers' shrewdness, their superior horses, and weaponry, and most crucially, their intimate knowledge of the local terrain, often gave them the upper hand in their confrontations with the police. Their exploits became a source of both fear and fascination for the colonists, a vivid manifestation of the harsh realities and unpredictable nature of life in the Australian outback. While Norton was capture Sir Frederick Pottinger was in Sydney for the conclusion of the Escort Trials and Manns' death sentence announcement. However, with the Lachlan deteriorating Pottinger was dispatched post haste to regain the upper hand and reinvigorate the police pursuit of Hall Gilbert and O'Meally.
POLICE MOVEMENTS.- Intelligence has been received of the arrival of Sir Frederick Pottinger at Forbes. We also hear that active preparations are being made by the police to scour the Weddin Mountains; and it is to be hoped that before many days have elapsed they will have succeeded in capturing and breaking up the band of bushrangers that infest the neighbourhood of Forbes and Lambing Flat.-S. M. Herald.
Norton released and Pottinger back in the saddle an intriguing postscript to these events was found in a report from 'Bell’s Life in Sydney and Sporting Chronicle.' The publication speculated about the potentially tragic consequences had it been Sir Frederick Pottinger, not Norton, at the mercy of the bushrangers. It suggested that Pottinger's encounter with the bushrangers could have ended not in capture but in bloodshed, a sobering reflection on the danger that these lawmen faced in their tireless pursuit of justice.
Norton released and Pottinger back in the saddle an intriguing postscript to these events was found in a report from 'Bell’s Life in Sydney and Sporting Chronicle.' The publication speculated about the potentially tragic consequences had it been Sir Frederick Pottinger, not Norton, at the mercy of the bushrangers. It suggested that Pottinger's encounter with the bushrangers could have ended not in capture but in bloodshed, a sobering reflection on the danger that these lawmen faced in their tireless pursuit of justice.
Sir Fred. Pottinger has just arrived. I forgot that Mr Norton was told that had he been Pottinger, they would have "shot him dead as a crow." There's a consolation for Sir Fred. Pottinger.⁶¹
However, the news of Inspector Norton's capture sent tremors through the community of Forbes. The audacious actions of the bushrangers, coupled with the inspector's perilous predicament, left the townsfolk aghast. Leading citizens, deeply affected by these events, resolved to intervene, vowing to attempt a daring rescue of Inspector Norton.
On 7th March 1863, an article in 'Bell’s Life in Sydney and Sporting Chronicle' shed light on the palpable frustration permeating the town. The citizens had reached a tipping point; they were thoroughly exasperated with the bushrangers' continued reign of terror, their relentless and indiscriminate acts of violence.
The newspaper provided a chilling insight into the ruthless nature of Ben Hall. It suggested that only a combination of Hall's poor marksmanship or a stroke of tremendous luck saved the disarmed Inspector Norton from a fatal bullet. This grim scenario underscored the cold-blooded nature of Hall, painting a picture of a man who was not just willing, but ready, to kill without a second thought.
As the nefarious activities of 'The Boys' continued unabated in the goldfield districts of Lambing Flat and Forbes, the high-profile Eugowra Escort trial and the 'Special Commission' into bushranging reached their conclusion in Sydney. The bushrangers had become a force to be reckoned with, their daring exploits providing a stark backdrop to the legal proceedings unfolding in the city.
However, the end of the trial did not signal the end of the drama. A tantalising piece of gossip circulated among the populace. It was rumoured that the bushrangers had sent a bold message to the government through their confidante, Billy Dargin.
The message was said to contain a chilling ultimatum: if any executions were carried out on their incarcerated comrades, Inspector Norton would pay the price. It was a threat, framed as a polite missive, which demonstrated the audacity of the bushrangers and the desperate lengths they were willing to go to in order to protect their own. The alleged threat further heightened the tension between the bushrangers and the authorities, adding a perilous new dimension to an already volatile situation.
The severity of Foran's injury resulted in Lowry's subsequent capture and incarceration by those present spurred into action at Foran crashing to the ground. In Bathurst Gaol Lowry with a number of others would hatch his plan to escape, further solidifying his place in the regional history as an infamous outlaw.
Outrage with Fire-arms, Bathurst Free Press, Jan. 3:
Confidently navigating through the Wheogo area, Ben Hall seemed to operate with an unusual degree of security. He was bolstered by the knowledge that he was surrounded by old friends and family members who were more than willing to lend him aid and comfort. Their support served as a safety net, enabling him to move fearlessly through the region.
An incident from around 1863 underscores this fear. Staff from the Pinnacle public house faced a stern reprimand, having attempted to scapegoat the bushrangers for squandering provisions and alcohol. Hall's reputation was such that his name was used to cover their own transgressions.
Years later, in 1889, the Freeman's Journal published a letter by an anonymous correspondent who called himself Viator. He recounted an encounter at the Pinnacle public house that took place during a journey in 1863. He had been a passenger on a coach that had a chance meeting with the notorious trio: Ben Hall, John Gilbert, and John O'Meally.
Published on November 23, 1889, Viator's letter offered a glimpse into the past, detailing a direct encounter with these infamous outlaws, a brush with the annals of the Australian bushranging history. The narrative, tinged with the fear and respect these men commanded, enriched the legacy of Ben Hall and his cohorts.
Furthermore, as well as the Bland, it came to light that Hall often appeared at his former home of Sandy Creek, where his latest child Mary and her mother Susan Prior continued to live. However, events at Sandy Creek would shortly alter to disastrous, culminating in a confrontation with Pottinger and his troop. As Hall and the gang had dropped off the radar, elements in the press had attempted to paint Sir Frederick Pottinger and his men as being a law unto themselves. Much criticism from many quarters of the region was directed at Pottinger, who dismissed any notion of unfairness and wreaked havoc against anyone suspected of sympathies toward the bushranging fraternity.
Here the loyal and brave tracker Billy Dargin gave evidence about Daley's involvement with Hall and O'Meally in Inspector Norton's kidnapping. However, Aboriginal Billy's grasp of the court's legalities and proceedings was questioned by the legal eagles. However, after some deliberation by the magistrate, Mr D. W. Irving, J.P. regarding Billy Dargin's understanding of an Oath, the police tracker was asked about his own knowledge of the oath procedure and replied:
As Daley was apprehended, Ben Hall sought to evade the increased efforts of Sir Frederick Pottinger remained in the bush of the district but near his home. This period marked a succession of escalating difficulties for Hall, most notably at Sandy Creek. There, John Wilson, a publican from Forbes and the new leaseholder of Sandy Creek station, expressed irritation over the residence previously owned by Hall, now being occupied by Susan Prior's family. The household included Susan Prior, her siblings, their mother Mary Prior, Ben Hall's elder brother William, his wife Ann, and their two children.
However, Wilson moved to evict them all through his friend Sir Frederick Pottinger. It's worth noting that as early as 1861, there had been efforts in the New South Wales Legislature to remove defaulting renters and undesirables from leased Crown Lands. The Cockatoo Squatter. Prior to Wilson purchase, Ben Hall held legal tenure over Sandy Creek. However, the Crown Lands Occupation Act of 1861, enacted in response to those criminal activities, impacted the lease of Sandy Creek. This resulted in Wilson taking up the lease in late 1862. A factor that played a role in Hall losing his hold over the land was his failure to sign the lease transfer to Wilson and settle any rent arrears with the government became untenable. John Maguire washed his hands of the situation.
In March 1863, officials from the Lands Office, including a certain Mr Crosby, were instructed to pass on information about individuals unlawfully occupying Crown Land to the police in Forbes. This list included Ben Hall's homestead and those in occupancy. Consequently, Hall's hut became one of the first in the Lachlan District to be subjected to these impending, arbitrary evictions. As set out under section 32 of the Act, which stated in part:
The Crown Lands Act 1861 gave Wilson through Pottinger the legal grounds to evict those living in Hall's former home, which Wilson then had incinerated by Pottinger to prevent the homes continued refuge for undesirables. This act marked a significant escalation in the situation, causing profound upheaval and disgust by well to do landholders and inconsequence rendering Hall's baby daughter, Mary, who had been born at Sandy Creek in January 1863, homeless.
The severity of these actions, which left a mother and her baby exposed to the harsh elements, (It rained on the day) stirred discontent among Hall's close associates and significant landowners, one being William Jameison of Back Creek Station.
Nevertheless, Pottinger remained steadfast in his conviction that Hall's former residence was serving as a sanctuary for the elusive bushranger and other criminals. He perceived these individuals as of 'low character', a prejudiced view possibly that was influenced by his aristocratic background.
The destruction of Hall's home was a bold demonstration of Pottinger's intention to exert control over those he considered part of a criminal underclass. The inspector aimed to send a strong message that the police were a force to be respected and obeyed, not hindered.
In June 1863, Pottinger relayed a memorandum justifying his actions to the Inspector-General of police, Captain McLerie. The document underscored Pottinger's disdain for the class of people who, in his view, operated under a 'cone of silence' when dealing with the authorities. An extract follows:
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| Ben Hall's pursuers promotions in March 1863. |
On 7th March 1863, an article in 'Bell’s Life in Sydney and Sporting Chronicle' shed light on the palpable frustration permeating the town. The citizens had reached a tipping point; they were thoroughly exasperated with the bushrangers' continued reign of terror, their relentless and indiscriminate acts of violence.
The newspaper provided a chilling insight into the ruthless nature of Ben Hall. It suggested that only a combination of Hall's poor marksmanship or a stroke of tremendous luck saved the disarmed Inspector Norton from a fatal bullet. This grim scenario underscored the cold-blooded nature of Hall, painting a picture of a man who was not just willing, but ready, to kill without a second thought.
The town was in a very excited state, many being anxious to be going, not only to release Mr Norton, but to use every exertion to get rid of this lawless banditti, and in a few minutes there were nearly 100 names down, and all were to meet the next morning, each bringing what arms he best could. At the appointed time crowds of determined storekeepers, miners, and others were in attendance, each one ready and willing to enter with spirit and resolution upon the enterprise, when, to the astonishment of the multitude, up rode Mr Norton safe and sound; he stated that they kept him for about three hours, during which time some of them wanted to shoot him, and one more determined than the rest, of the name of Ben Hall, did while he was a prisoner actually fire at him several shots, but still he came off free; but he was cautioned by the band of ruffians that if he showed himself any more in that quarter, he would not come off in a like manner.
They took his horse and arms but LENT him another to ride into Forbes with. Directly after the return of Inspector Norton, it was announced outside the Court House that the Volunteers would not be required. The J. P. was thankful for the spirit and loyalty displayed by the people. The gallant Captain Browne was to lead the volunteers, who felt every confidence in their leader; but after that announcement of course the matter was dropped.
As the town was preparing the rescue, Norton unharmed rode in and quickly fired off a telegram to the Inspector-General telling of his situation and safe return:
Forbes, 3rd March, 5 10 p.m. I am just returned here in safety and have not been wounded. I was detained about three hours on Sunday morning. I surrendered to the bushrangers after having expended all my ammunition; having been surrounded by them, with their revolvers presented at me. The men I took with me, did not meet me at the place appointed, according to agreement the previous evening, consequently, I had only the blacktracker with me.⁶²
Following his release, Inspector Norton was left physically unscathed, yet his pride bore the brunt of the ordeal. Sir Frederick Pottinger, wearied by incessant derision from certain corners of the media, was spurred into action. His resolve was as steely as ever, the quest for justice now imbued with a thirst for retribution.
While on patrol, Sir Frederick found himself near the very scene of Norton's harrowing encounter. His reliable aide, Billy Dargin, pointed out the specific spot where Ben Hall had made his ruthless attempt on Norton's life. Eager to piece together the chilling event, Sir Frederick dismounted his horse and approached the tree where the remnants of Hall's missed bullets lingered.
A closer examination of the tree revealed the close brush with death Norton had experienced. The bullets had struck alarmingly close to where Norton's head had been, a stark testament to his narrow escape. The sight of this grim memento stirred within Sir Frederick a renewed determination to bring Ben Hall to justice. The calculated violence of the bushrangers had to be curtailed, and Sir Frederick was resolved to be the one to do it.
While on patrol, Sir Frederick found himself near the very scene of Norton's harrowing encounter. His reliable aide, Billy Dargin, pointed out the specific spot where Ben Hall had made his ruthless attempt on Norton's life. Eager to piece together the chilling event, Sir Frederick dismounted his horse and approached the tree where the remnants of Hall's missed bullets lingered.
A closer examination of the tree revealed the close brush with death Norton had experienced. The bullets had struck alarmingly close to where Norton's head had been, a stark testament to his narrow escape. The sight of this grim memento stirred within Sir Frederick a renewed determination to bring Ben Hall to justice. The calculated violence of the bushrangers had to be curtailed, and Sir Frederick was resolved to be the one to do it.
On Wednesday morning last, whilst Sir Frederick Pottinger with Billy, the black tracker, and some of the mounted police were out in the neighbourhood of the suspected bushrangers, near the Weddin Mountains, the tracker detected fresh footprints of a horse crossing the path Sir Frederick and his party were pursuing and directing the master's attention to the circumstances Sir Frederick turned his course in the direction of the tracks. Billy soon pointed out the identical spot which had afforded such friendly protection to J. O. Norton, the sub-inspector of police. Frederick Pottinger descended from his horse and minutely examined the tree, and found the imprint of two large bullets, one of which must have strayed just over the head of Mr Norton, as he was described to have stood by the tree, and the other nearly at the level with his chest.⁶³
As the dust settled on the events surrounding Inspector Norton's return, the grim spectre of the gallows loomed over convicted Eugowra Escort robbers, Manns and Bow. While Fordyce's death sentence had been commuted to life imprisonment, Manns and Bow languished on death row, awaiting their imminent fate.
Yet hope was not entirely lost for the condemned pair. The citizens of Sydney, in an act of collective mercy, petitioned for the commuting of Manns and Bow's death sentences to life imprisonment. The appeals echoed through the city, a testament to the compassion that underscored the community's sense of justice.
The media, too, continued to cast a critical eye over the proceedings. Doubts were raised over the credibility of the evidence provided by Daniel Charters, adding another layer of intrigue to the case. For the first time, Benjamin Hall and John O'Meally, two notorious figures, were explicitly named in the press as members of the gang involved in the Eugowra Gold robbery of June 1862. This revelation injected a new dimension to the narrative, linking the events of the present with the unresolved crimes of the past. The Maitland Mercury and Hunter River General Advertiser, 17th March 1863;
As the dust settled on the events surrounding Inspector Norton's return, the grim spectre of the gallows loomed over convicted Eugowra Escort robbers, Manns and Bow. While Fordyce's death sentence had been commuted to life imprisonment, Manns and Bow languished on death row, awaiting their imminent fate.
Yet hope was not entirely lost for the condemned pair. The citizens of Sydney, in an act of collective mercy, petitioned for the commuting of Manns and Bow's death sentences to life imprisonment. The appeals echoed through the city, a testament to the compassion that underscored the community's sense of justice.
The media, too, continued to cast a critical eye over the proceedings. Doubts were raised over the credibility of the evidence provided by Daniel Charters, adding another layer of intrigue to the case. For the first time, Benjamin Hall and John O'Meally, two notorious figures, were explicitly named in the press as members of the gang involved in the Eugowra Gold robbery of June 1862. This revelation injected a new dimension to the narrative, linking the events of the present with the unresolved crimes of the past. The Maitland Mercury and Hunter River General Advertiser, 17th March 1863;
Considerable exertion is being made to save the lives of the culprits, Bow and Manns, now lying under sentence of death in Darlinghurst gaol. It appears pretty certain, that when Chartres, the approver, was first taken into custody, with Ben Hall and O'Meally, they were all three charged with the escort robbery. Chartres, however, in taking advantage of turning approver, declared that neither Hall nor O'Meally had anything to do with the robbery, it is now pretty clear that these two were present and took part in the robbery, and that Chartres obtained their release by declaring that they were not concerned in it; but gave evidence against Bow, Fordyce, Manns, and Maguire, who were then at large. These facts, it is understood, will be brought before the Executive.
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| Horse Theft. |
However, the end of the trial did not signal the end of the drama. A tantalising piece of gossip circulated among the populace. It was rumoured that the bushrangers had sent a bold message to the government through their confidante, Billy Dargin.
The message was said to contain a chilling ultimatum: if any executions were carried out on their incarcerated comrades, Inspector Norton would pay the price. It was a threat, framed as a polite missive, which demonstrated the audacity of the bushrangers and the desperate lengths they were willing to go to in order to protect their own. The alleged threat further heightened the tension between the bushrangers and the authorities, adding a perilous new dimension to an already volatile situation.
Inspector Norton was taken yesterday (Sunday) by fourteen bushrangers, between Lambing Flat and Forbes. It is supposed that his captors are Gardiner and his gang. A black tracker has forwarded to the telegraph station a statement informing the authorities that if the men sentenced in Sydney were executed Norton would be hanged. He is planted in the bush. A meeting has been called to consider the matter in the camp reserve this evening.⁶⁴
Fortuitously, the townsfolk of Forbes, along with Inspector Norton, were spared from the grim fulfilment of the bushrangers' ominous threat. Ben Hall, John O’Meally, and Daley failed to execute their menacing promise. Nevertheless, the gallows claimed the life of Manns, a sombre reminder of the ongoing conflict.
A few days after Manns' execution, the 'Goulburn Herald' of Saturday 7th March 1863, weighed in on the alleged threat to Norton. As was often the case during these turbulent times, the writer sprinkled the account with a touch of derision aimed at the police. The article provided yet another angle on the unfolding drama, showcasing the media's critical and often mocking commentary on the authorities' struggle to maintain law and order against the audacious bushrangers.
A few days after Manns' execution, the 'Goulburn Herald' of Saturday 7th March 1863, weighed in on the alleged threat to Norton. As was often the case during these turbulent times, the writer sprinkled the account with a touch of derision aimed at the police. The article provided yet another angle on the unfolding drama, showcasing the media's critical and often mocking commentary on the authorities' struggle to maintain law and order against the audacious bushrangers.
Then poor Norton was to be hung as high as Haman or as Gilderoy, if the executive dared to send the escort robbers to the scaffold. The government, as is usual, were fairly frightened out of their wits, and as if capturing a policeman was any worse than capturing anyone else, they sent off no less than thirty-five head of police for the scene of action, leaving Sydney, where, after all, is said and done, there is far more crime than in the interior, comparatively unprotected. Of course, the whole affair is a gross exaggeration, and the real facts were of the very tamest. There was no theatrical combat, no broadswords, no Long Tom Coffin, no harpoon, no toasting-fork, no eucalyptus, no seeking of shades below.
The fact simply was that the acting-sub was out with only a black-boy, when he fell in with some bushrangers--or they fell in with him and as they were superior in number, he was taken prisoner, kept for three hours, and then let go. He certainly says he used all his ammunition; if he did he must be a doosid bad shot not to kill or maim some of his foes, and they must have had more forbearance than they ever yet have got credit for not to have retaliated. There is a report here that he was well treated by the bushrangers. It will be seen that on hearing of his capture the government at once promoted Mr Norton, who is now a full instead of an acting- sub-inspector. Rather a curious inducement to hold out to Sir Pottinger and other policemen, eh.
Ben Hall would continue in the attempt to kill men.
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| Fred Lowry. Penzig. |
After their intense confrontation with the Norton gang, the Lachlan area experienced another turbulent event. Within mere days, the community was stirred by the sudden appearance of a new and formidable gang member, Frederick Lowry, also known as Frederick McGregor. On March 8th, 1863, the local newspaper, 'Burrangong Star', published the news of Lowry's arrival.
Frederick Lowry was no stranger to the life of lawlessness. He had spent a significant part of his life at Cockatoo Island, sharing his confines with none other than the infamous Frank Gardiner, the former leader of the gang that now prowled the Lachlan region. Their time together in incarceration had forged a bond between them, binding them through shared experiences and hardened resolve.
In February 1863, Lowry made headlines for a daring escape from Bathurst Gaol. His freedom was hard-won, and his arrival in the Lambing Flat area symbolised a new beginning. Braving the challenges and risks of life on the run, Lowry decided to establish his presence in the Lachlan area, ready to follow in the footsteps of Gardiner and, in time, to carve his own path in the annals of local lore.
'Empire' 21st February 1863:
No reliable information has yet been received of the movements of Lowry, the ruffian who appears to have run through the town in daylight under the eyes of hundreds of people and to have left no traces behind him as to the particular direction he has taken. Rumours are afloat, but we give them no credit. Some have already lifted him into a hero. He is represented, at eleven miles distance from Bathurst on his way towards the Abercrombie Mountains as being accouted with revolvers and the usual appendages; and in possession of one animal equal to Turpin's Black Bess.
Before his audacious escape, Lowry was being held accountable for a grave incident that took place at a race meeting in the Brisbane Valley, near the head of the Fish River. The event had drawn a crowd of around a hundred spectators, creating an atmosphere ripe for unpredictability.
In the midst of the gathering, a scuffle broke out, the details of which remain a topic of whispered speculation. What is known, however, is that the altercation ended with a man named Mr. Foran suffering a gunshot wound to his chest. The source of the bullet was traced back to Frederick Lowry.
In the midst of the gathering, a scuffle broke out, the details of which remain a topic of whispered speculation. What is known, however, is that the altercation ended with a man named Mr. Foran suffering a gunshot wound to his chest. The source of the bullet was traced back to Frederick Lowry.
The severity of Foran's injury resulted in Lowry's subsequent capture and incarceration by those present spurred into action at Foran crashing to the ground. In Bathurst Gaol Lowry with a number of others would hatch his plan to escape, further solidifying his place in the regional history as an infamous outlaw.
Outrage with Fire-arms, Bathurst Free Press, Jan. 3:
On New Year's day races were held at a place called Brisbane Valley, near the head of the Fish River Creek. Among the parties present, it appears, there were two men for whom the police have been some time on the look-out, and whose names are, respectively, Lowrie and Foley. After the races, the prizes having been paid, the man Lowrie attempted to bail up the persons present. Two, however, refused to go into the house, when Lowry fired upon them. The ball grazed the cheek of one of the race visitors, and struck a horse that stood close by, on the hip. A young man named Foran then rushed at Lowrie, when the latter immediately fired, and shot the poor young fellow through the right lung. Dr. Eaton, who was sent for, is of opinion that the ball is lodged in the region of the spine. Notwithstanding that Foran was thus wounded, he sprang at once upon the villain, and was enabled to hold him; till other assistance coming forward he was effectually secured. The police at Bathurst, having received information, at once proceeded in the direction of the scene of the outrage We trust these daring men, who have so long been a terror to the neighbouring localities, will not have made their escape before the arrival of the police.
Lowry sought out his former convict mate Gardiner following his freedom, but on Gardiner having departed, he seconded himself to the remaining gang where evidence suggests Lowry knew Ben Hall well. As reported:
On Tuesday a man was stuck-up and robbed of 12s 6d on the Marengo Road, by a bushranger dressed in a poncho, supposed by his height, (about 6 ft 2 in), to be Frederick Lowry, who escaped out of the Bathurst gaol on the 15th of last month, for whose apprehension the Government have offered a reward of £100. On reference to the Government Gazette we perceive by his description that he is 6 feet 1 or 2 inches high.
A local newspaper, capturing the dichotomy of his persona, alluded to him as a well-off squatter who paradoxically indulged in the dangerous and illicit activity of robbery. Hall's life was full of such contradictions. Born into a convict family, he was no stranger to struggle and hardship. Yet, he managed to ascend to a level of relative affluence through his illicit activities, blurring the lines between respectability and criminality.
These circumstances painted a complex picture of Hall, a man who, despite his outlaw status, seemed to enjoy the privileges of wealth and community support. His story is an illustration of the paradoxes that can exist within one person's life, underscoring the complexity of human nature and the unpredictability of fate. February 1863:
In the mid-1860s, Ben Hall's presence cast a long shadow over those who existed outside of his inner circle, his power instilling a palpable sense of fear. This was exemplified by the apprehension felt by Margaret Feehily, a widow and sister to Daniel Charters, once Hall's closest friend. Though Hall and Charters had likely maintained sporadic contact after the infamous Escort trials, the fear endured.
These circumstances painted a complex picture of Hall, a man who, despite his outlaw status, seemed to enjoy the privileges of wealth and community support. His story is an illustration of the paradoxes that can exist within one person's life, underscoring the complexity of human nature and the unpredictability of fate. February 1863:
Most of the atrocities committed, the police have good reasons for believing, are committed, not by needy marauders, but by well-to-do settlers, the excrement of the old convict population.
An incident from around 1863 underscores this fear. Staff from the Pinnacle public house faced a stern reprimand, having attempted to scapegoat the bushrangers for squandering provisions and alcohol. Hall's reputation was such that his name was used to cover their own transgressions.
Years later, in 1889, the Freeman's Journal published a letter by an anonymous correspondent who called himself Viator. He recounted an encounter at the Pinnacle public house that took place during a journey in 1863. He had been a passenger on a coach that had a chance meeting with the notorious trio: Ben Hall, John Gilbert, and John O'Meally.
Published on November 23, 1889, Viator's letter offered a glimpse into the past, detailing a direct encounter with these infamous outlaws, a brush with the annals of the Australian bushranging history. The narrative, tinged with the fear and respect these men commanded, enriched the legacy of Ben Hall and his cohorts.
I relate the following incident to show how at that time the bushrangers comprising Ben Hall, Vane, Gilbert and O'Meally cared very little for the police, but kept on good terms with the residents of the parts they frequented. I left Lambing Flat diggings by Greig's coach, which started at 4 in the morning, to go to the Lachlan goldfield about 90 miles distant. The coach being full, the agent allowed me to ride on the rack with the mail-bags, with strict injunctions to hold well on to the ropes. It was well he did, for some portions of the road were laid down with logs from 12 to 18 inches thick, and when the coach came on to these the effect was anything but exhilarating. First a terrible shock, and then a continued bump, bump, bump for perhaps hundreds of yards. These parts were called "corduroys," and were a rough and-ready way of making a road passable over bogs and swamps until other improvements could be effected. The stages were from 12 to 15 miles apart, and in the afternoon we reached the last but one before we came to the township, and it being a public-house, most of the passengers got down, and so did I, to stretch my legs. And when I did I noticed something unusual going on in the yard adjoining the inn.
There were four men on horseback, two standing, seemingly stable men or rouse-abouts, and a woman who I heard was the landlady. I did not know them but heard after we started that the four men were Ben Hall and his mates, and the reason of their visitation at that time was the following:— The landlady, who was a widow, had a week or so before gone to Forbes to settle some business affairs, and was away for two or three days, during which period it appears that the man she left in charge of the bar, etc., etc, had started drinking, with the result that the yardman and groom and neighbours, and in fact all hands who came along, had joined in the spree, and the quantity of liquor consumed as well as provisions was something enormous, especially as there was very little money to show that any had been paid for. So, at their wits' end for an excuse, the two principals agreed to swear to the landlady on her return that it was the bushrangers had come and helped themselves.- She, who was always friendly to them, happened to tell this to one who informed Ben Hall, who came over and made the real culprits confess their guilt. At that time they stuck up no one on the coach nor any one in the house. But it was a well-known fact that they never did stick up many of the places on this line of road, and it was the general opinion that they were afforded valuable information as to the movements of the police by a very large proportion of the residents in these localities in consequence. As I looked at them over the gate I noticed that the spokesman was a rather tall robust-looking man, with a fine frank-looking face, and wore a high felt hat and cord breeches and top boots — that was Ben Hall. A slight, fair man, looking like a, horse-trainer, had a slight, fair moustache and cabbage-tree hat, breeches and boots, and had one leg-crossed over the pummel of the saddle, listening to what was said — that was Gilbert. While a very dark, determined-looking man with deep set eyes, who was looking down, seemingly brooding over something, was Vane. A young, flash, rowdy-looking young follow with keen flashing eyes, who was looking at the two men standing with no pleasant countenance, was O'Meally. At this time there were between 30 and 40 mounted police at Forbes, only a few miles distant, under Sir Frederick Pottinger.
Nevertheless, shortly after the capture of Inspector Norton, the NSW government moved to acquire the former hotel, which doubled as a home of the family of John O'Meally's and a notorious meeting place of the Weddin criminals. The O'Meally's had sold Arramagong earlier and were illegal squatters. However, the family had continued to live at Arramagong. The police's goal was to create a police station in the heart of the Weddin Mountains with easy access to the haunts of the bushrangers and their harbourers. There was widespread approval for the government's move, and The Maitland Mercury and Hunter River General Advertiser on the 11th March 1863, supported the action;
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| Captain Henry Zouch. c. 1880's. |
The government appear to be vigorously carrying out their plans for the suppression of bushranging in the south-western district. We hear that O'Mealy's farm has been taken possession of for a police-station. If a few more of these resorts of bushrangers were served in a similar manner the roads about Lambing Flat and Forbes would again assume a state of order, and once the criminal population were dispersed they would find it difficult to gather themselves together in any other part of the colony.
Captain Zouch proceeded to install his troopers there, although the house was reportedly in some disrepair. Therefore, the Captain requested £20 to have some work carried out repairing the building’s roof; The 'Burrangong Star', 11th March 1863 wrote the following:
We understand that Captain Zouch intended on his journey to form a police station at O'Mealy's station (at the Weddin Mountain), ejecting by orders of the government, him and his family, thus breaking up that rendezvous for bushrangers and their accomplices. The Captain returned yesterday afternoon to the camp.
The altercation with Inspector Norton and the increased efforts of the police patrols brought another but a rare positive comment from the Lachlan Miner:
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| O'Meally's holdings Weddin Mountains. c. 1863. |
It is very satisfactory to know that we are really receiving some benefits, in exchange for the money expended by the government in sending up extra police to look after us. The Lambing Flat road is well patrolled; the neighbourhood of Wheogo, and Weddin Mountain is rendered safe to travellers and dangerous to bushrangers.⁶⁵
However, the advocated safe period for the police was short term. During the lull, Hall appeared to have retreated to his former stockman's haunts out in the back-country of the Bland Plains and camped around Lake Cowal and Humbug Creek. Areas which Hall knew intimately. In this wild country, Hall had maintained many friends. Hall's Bland haunt was described as:
However, the advocated safe period for the police was short term. During the lull, Hall appeared to have retreated to his former stockman's haunts out in the back-country of the Bland Plains and camped around Lake Cowal and Humbug Creek. Areas which Hall knew intimately. In this wild country, Hall had maintained many friends. Hall's Bland haunt was described as:
The most picturesque part, of the Bland plains — viz., the intervening space between east and west Bland. The Humbug Mountain to the west impresses me with the notion that I am on the verge of a wilderness, the steep ravines and huge granite rocks form such a striking contrast to the peaceful-looking green sward, dotted with lovely pools of water, on the Back creek winding through the plains. Turkeys and wildfowl are plentiful, and there is often good sport in seasons like this.
Hall would not have lacked for grub while secreted at Humbug. The area was also the current residence of his former wife, Bridget and her lover James Taylor, residing at Alice Gibson station and, best of all, his three and a half-year-old son Henry. If Hall had seen his young son, there is no evidence, suffice to say as a father, and the opportunity arose, no doubt Hall would have apprised the chance. Presumably a fearful time for Taylor.
Furthermore, as well as the Bland, it came to light that Hall often appeared at his former home of Sandy Creek, where his latest child Mary and her mother Susan Prior continued to live. However, events at Sandy Creek would shortly alter to disastrous, culminating in a confrontation with Pottinger and his troop. As Hall and the gang had dropped off the radar, elements in the press had attempted to paint Sir Frederick Pottinger and his men as being a law unto themselves. Much criticism from many quarters of the region was directed at Pottinger, who dismissed any notion of unfairness and wreaked havoc against anyone suspected of sympathies toward the bushranging fraternity.
Therefore, the press ran emotional stories in the newspapers of widespread evictions and brutality! This, of course, was exaggerated, although Pottinger could be heavy-handed in his dealings with the Cockatoo squatters. These cockatoo squatters were recipients of the Robinson Land Act of 1861, which gave the poor man an opportunity to take up land, from 40 to 640 acres at 5/- per acre down, balance 15/- per acre, carrying interest at 5 per cent; no interest payable for the first three years, but like all good things it was greatly abused. Dummyism (The practice of purchasing land for another person who is not legally entitled to do so.) and corruption were rampant, and many of the smallholdings reverted back to the big landholders.
Pottinger's antagonism amongst the less well off squatter was to reach the corridors of power in Sydney, often dividing Macquarie Street's power brokers. However, any criticism of Pottinger reinforced his defence to maintain a position of strength by wielding the law to the fullest. Pottinger was in no way an advocate nor a fan of leniency nor compassion. Pottinger's hard-line stance was demonstrated when a subordinate, Constable Hassen, was charged with killing a man in police custody. Sir Frederick was called a character witness for the constable; 'Goulburn Herald', January 1863:
Boyd never the less put himself in an attitude as if about to strike; on which Hassen fired Boyd fell mortally wounded. He died about noon. The jury by a majority of 7 to 9, returned a verdict of justifiable homicide. Sir Frederick Pottinger gave Hassen a good character and said that there had been only one charge against him since he had been in the police force, and that was for excessive leniency.⁶⁶
Newspaper's such as the Empire (1850-1875) had an editorial flair that appeared to garner support to the sympathisers and harbourers of bushrangers. The paper often censured the police over their perceived brutality towards the smaller, less well to do settlers who provided a helping hand for a gratuity from the hunted. Those sympathisers were noted as:
Newspaper's such as the Empire (1850-1875) had an editorial flair that appeared to garner support to the sympathisers and harbourers of bushrangers. The paper often censured the police over their perceived brutality towards the smaller, less well to do settlers who provided a helping hand for a gratuity from the hunted. Those sympathisers were noted as:
His parents, his brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts and cousins for all sorts of assistance. It was from amongst his innumerable relations and their close friends that the 'bush telegraphs,' who kept him aware of the movements of the police, were recruited, and the system of intelligence that served such gangs as those of Frank Gardiner and Ben Hall was highly organised and tremendously effective, even though, as has been said, the bushrangers were expected to pay for it 'through the nose.⁶⁷
On the other hand, some more conservative newspapers like the Sydney Morning Herald viewed the troubles and difficulties faced by Sir Frederick Pottinger more sympathetically. The root of those difficulties was a continued 'Cone of Silence' employed by many inhabitants. Therefore, the more conservative papers judged the inspector far more fairly, such as, 'The Courier' Brisbane:
On the other hand, some more conservative newspapers like the Sydney Morning Herald viewed the troubles and difficulties faced by Sir Frederick Pottinger more sympathetically. The root of those difficulties was a continued 'Cone of Silence' employed by many inhabitants. Therefore, the more conservative papers judged the inspector far more fairly, such as, 'The Courier' Brisbane:
There is nothing in the fact that he wears a title which places his official acts beyond the pale of honest and impartial criticism, but we have yet to learn that it constitutes him a butt for every bilious, ill-natured scribbler, who loves to shine in print. Fiat justitia ruet coelum ("Let justice be done though the heavens fall."). Let Sir Frederick Pottinger, like every other public man, be dealt with upon his merits. Above all, let the truth be spoken of him, and when the occasion is one of sufficient gravity, by all means, employ the language of censure and condemnation, as unreservedly in his as in any other case. Persecution we detest, and have small respect for that class of scribblers who hound a man down for fashion's sake.⁶⁸
Nonetheless, under the spotlight of numerous failures, in particular, Frank Gardiner. Sir Frederick Pottinger was hungry for success. Just one victory would do, and for a brief moment, Pottinger’s luck bore fruit. Sir Frederick's Pottinger's instinct's regarding the Weddin Mountains/Pinnacle/Wheogo areas as a continuous haven for bushrangers, including Ben Hall's previous run at Sandy Creek and his former in-laws at Wheogo as well as the nearby Feehily's Pinnacle Station were places Pottinger considered his best opportunity to 'nail the bastards'. The Pinnacle bordered the same name's range with its outlying miner's huts and a heavily wooded scrubland. Pottinger's dogged patrolling paid off.
Nonetheless, under the spotlight of numerous failures, in particular, Frank Gardiner. Sir Frederick Pottinger was hungry for success. Just one victory would do, and for a brief moment, Pottinger’s luck bore fruit. Sir Frederick's Pottinger's instinct's regarding the Weddin Mountains/Pinnacle/Wheogo areas as a continuous haven for bushrangers, including Ben Hall's previous run at Sandy Creek and his former in-laws at Wheogo as well as the nearby Feehily's Pinnacle Station were places Pottinger considered his best opportunity to 'nail the bastards'. The Pinnacle bordered the same name's range with its outlying miner's huts and a heavily wooded scrubland. Pottinger's dogged patrolling paid off.
On Wednesday 11th March 1863, Sir Frederick, in company with some troopers and the tracker Billy Dargin, were out in the bushrangers' neighbourhood between Wheogo Range (not confused with Wheogo Hill) and Pinnacle Mountains. Traversing the beaten track, the tracker detected fresh hoof prints of a horse crossing their path near Maguire's reef. Billy Dargin directed Sir Frederick's attention to them; 'Sydney Morning Herald' dated the 17th March 1863:
Sir Frederick turned his course in the direction of the tracks. Billy soon pointed out the identical tree which had afforded such friendly protection to Mr, J. O. Norton, the sub-inspector of police. Sir Frederick Pottinger was directing his course again, when he espied in the distance, through the foliage of the trees in the bush, a mounted horseman, and at once gave orders for pursuit. The party were now in the vicinity of the Pinnacle reef, and, first of all ordering two of his troopers to make round the hill, on which the reef is situated, in order to intercept the flight of the horseman, Sir Frederick, with the black tracker and the two remaining troopers, continued the chase. All this was done in less time than it takes to write, and very shortly afterward Sir Frederick pulled up before some deserted-looking huts and found a horse, with a saddle on it, tied up to one of the huts.
He at once recognised the horse to be one he had seen the night before in Ben Hall's paddock, "all in a sweat." to use the baronet's own language. The black-fellow also recognised a pair of girths on the horse as being a portion of the property stolen from the Police Barracks, at the Pinnacle station, on the occasion of that place being stuck up and robbed during the temporary absence of the police, shortly before. Entering the huts, Sir Frederick saw two or three men inside, and finding them unwilling to answer his questions, he threatened them, where upon he was informed that the rider of the horse was down a shaft on the reef above named.
Proceeding to the place indicated, Sir Frederick found that the shaft was about sixty feet deep, and that a permanent kind of ladder was fixed to the side, for ascent and descent. Sir Frederick called to the man (presuming him to be there) to surrender, but received no answer. Again, after an interval, the same request was repeated, but met with no response. After several minutes, the supposed bushranger was again summoned to appear, without eliciting any reply. At length, finding mild exhortations insufficient, Sir Frederick threatened that he would at once proceed to burn and smoke him out like an opossum.
The man not liking the latter alternative, surrendered at discretion, and was immediately taken into custody. It is obvious that if the notorious Gardiner selects such innocent looking striplings to execute the deeds generally left to men of sterner stuff, it must be for some new arrangement in bush tactics, such as the human telegram hinted at by a contemporary. Patrick Daley, who forms the subject of this sketch, is a mild, youthful whiskerless looking person, with light-blue eyes and fair complexion. There is nothing in his physiognomical expression outwardly, to denote the degraded villain. He certainly, during the examination, kept his head down, glancing furtively round. His eyes move quickly and, with a sinister expression, as if were in the habit of looking under his eyebrow and "taking stock" of those around him. Sir Frederick Pottinger undoubtedly deserves great credit for his prompt action and discernment in this matter; and doubtless, he is willing to accord is portion of the merit to the acute sight of his black tracker. [prisoner was brought before the Forbes bench on the 12th instant, and remanded for a week."]
A chuffed Sir Frederick presented his catch in the Police Court at Forbes on the 24th March 1863. When Daley was taken the horse he jumped from to scurry down the mine shaft Daley was was found to have on his horse, some of the goods, stolen from the Pinnacle police station. He has been charged with robbery and attempt at murder.
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| Patsy Daley 1874 |
Here the loyal and brave tracker Billy Dargin gave evidence about Daley's involvement with Hall and O'Meally in Inspector Norton's kidnapping. However, Aboriginal Billy's grasp of the court's legalities and proceedings was questioned by the legal eagles. However, after some deliberation by the magistrate, Mr D. W. Irving, J.P. regarding Billy Dargin's understanding of an Oath, the police tracker was asked about his own knowledge of the oath procedure and replied:
That he believed in another world, and that he would be punished if he told a lie.⁶⁹
Moreover in answer to another question on the procedure Dargin stated;
He could not exactly describe the meaning of an oath, although he had heard of the Testament and believed in telling the truth, Billy answered all the questions put to him with an amount of intelligence quite surprising.⁷⁰
It is woefully wrong to assume that Dargin was some illiterate darky, where in fact, he was actually far more educated than Ben Hall.
The Bench, satisfied with Billy's understanding, decided to hear his statement without swearing him in. Dargin was then called to give his testimony and stated:
He was employed in the police force; He was twenty years of age and was baptised twelve years ago, at Windsor, by the Rev Mr Styles. Knew the prisoner before the Court. Some called him "Jonny” and some "Patsy Daley.
Dargin continued:
Was with Mr Norton on the Sunday morning, about a month ago, when near Wheogo, or about three miles from there, they were stuck up by three men. The prisoner was one of them; Ben Hall and John O’Meally were the two others. On the morning, we started from Wheogo, we passed Mr Walsh's along the road, close to M'Guire's home. We saw two men riding along—one leading a horse. The two men had a gun on each thigh. They did not seem to be troopers. Mr Norton told them to come along and follow him. The prisoner was one of them, and John O’Meally was the other; Ben Hall was not there then, coming back met Ben Hall between the house and the paddock. Made a charge at him, pursuing him to the corner of the paddock. Fired once at him. Mr Norton then said we must go for more troopers. Rode on about three miles, and then told Mr Norton that the three men were coming to bail them up. The men did come up, and sang out, "Bail up." The prisoner Daley was over to the left, Ben Hall was behind, and John, O’Meally was to the right, behind a little. Mr Norton was in the middle, and witness was in a clear space about twenty yards from Mr Norton. Mr Norton fired all his charges, and then gave himself up; Did not like to stop and be killed, so prepared to gallop away. John O’Meally then fired, a double-barrelled gun, one barrel was discharged at Mr Norton, and the other at witness. Mr Norton was on foot, standing alongside a tree; witness was, also off his horse at the time, twenty yards from Mr Norton. About thirty shots were fired altogether. Saw the prisoner Daley fire at Mr Norton. Mr Norton gave himself up to John O'Meally. The other two then followed witness; and chased him for a mile and a half; Ben Hall fired at Mr Norton as he passed by."
"Ben Hall then charged witness, and ordered him to bail up against a tree; said—he would see them d--d first. Witness then jumped off his horse and taking up a pistol he had thrown upon the ground, threw it at Ben Hall, hitting him on the jaw; Ben Hall then called out to Daley to come on with his revolvers. By the Bench: The pistol struck Ben Hall on the right ear. Prisoner Daley; was engaged loading two revolvers. Ben Hall called out, come on with the revolvers. Young O’Meally then came up and gave one of his revolvers to Ben Hall. Witness then took off his boots, leggings, and coat, and run off, throwing sticks at his pursuers the whole time. They, chased him in this manner for eight-miles, firing all the way, till they got near the Pinnacle Mountain. They told him they would "whollop" him to death with sticks; witness replied, he would like to have a chance with him; he would forgive them if they killed him with sticks. They then went under the Pinnacle, and picked up some small pebble stones and fired them at witness. The prisoner Daley said, "I like you, you white livered scoundrel. “Witness in reply told Daley, "He would like him better if he would get off his horse. Afterwards asked them if they would go to the Pinnacle, and he would shout for them. Ben Hall said, "Well, old man, you're a plucky one, and we'll let you off, but we'll stick up your barracks to-night." They then went off to the Pinnacle—To the Bench "Am certain the prisoner is the same man who was with Ben Hall when the police barracks were stuck up. Followed them at that time, with Prince Charlie and trooper Hollister. Chased them for three miles and a half, and should have taken them but for Hollister getting thrown from his horse through running against a tree. Saw the prisoner Daley snap his revolver three times at Charlie. —To Sir Frederick Pottinger: Can swear that prisoner is one of the three men who stuck up Mr Norton, and likewise to being the same we chased with the trooper Hollister. —To the Bench. Identified the prisoner directly when he was taken into custody by Sir Frederick Pottinger.⁷¹
"Ben Hall then charged witness, and ordered him to bail up against a tree; said—he would see them d--d first. Witness then jumped off his horse and taking up a pistol he had thrown upon the ground, threw it at Ben Hall, hitting him on the jaw; Ben Hall then called out to Daley to come on with his revolvers. By the Bench: The pistol struck Ben Hall on the right ear. Prisoner Daley; was engaged loading two revolvers. Ben Hall called out, come on with the revolvers. Young O’Meally then came up and gave one of his revolvers to Ben Hall. Witness then took off his boots, leggings, and coat, and run off, throwing sticks at his pursuers the whole time. They, chased him in this manner for eight-miles, firing all the way, till they got near the Pinnacle Mountain. They told him they would "whollop" him to death with sticks; witness replied, he would like to have a chance with him; he would forgive them if they killed him with sticks. They then went under the Pinnacle, and picked up some small pebble stones and fired them at witness. The prisoner Daley said, "I like you, you white livered scoundrel. “Witness in reply told Daley, "He would like him better if he would get off his horse. Afterwards asked them if they would go to the Pinnacle, and he would shout for them. Ben Hall said, "Well, old man, you're a plucky one, and we'll let you off, but we'll stick up your barracks to-night." They then went off to the Pinnacle—To the Bench "Am certain the prisoner is the same man who was with Ben Hall when the police barracks were stuck up. Followed them at that time, with Prince Charlie and trooper Hollister. Chased them for three miles and a half, and should have taken them but for Hollister getting thrown from his horse through running against a tree. Saw the prisoner Daley snap his revolver three times at Charlie. —To Sir Frederick Pottinger: Can swear that prisoner is one of the three men who stuck up Mr Norton, and likewise to being the same we chased with the trooper Hollister. —To the Bench. Identified the prisoner directly when he was taken into custody by Sir Frederick Pottinger.⁷¹
(This account, although slightly embellished, confuses Ben Hall with O'Meally, as Norton stated under oath that Ben Hall guarded him as well as a shot at him whilst Daley and O'Meally conducted the short chase of Dargin. Dargin's version, he claimed Hall and Daley pursued him. See Billy Dargin The Traps page.)
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| John Wilson, mate of Sir Frederick and John Maguire. |
However, Wilson moved to evict them all through his friend Sir Frederick Pottinger. It's worth noting that as early as 1861, there had been efforts in the New South Wales Legislature to remove defaulting renters and undesirables from leased Crown Lands. The Cockatoo Squatter. Prior to Wilson purchase, Ben Hall held legal tenure over Sandy Creek. However, the Crown Lands Occupation Act of 1861, enacted in response to those criminal activities, impacted the lease of Sandy Creek. This resulted in Wilson taking up the lease in late 1862. A factor that played a role in Hall losing his hold over the land was his failure to sign the lease transfer to Wilson and settle any rent arrears with the government became untenable. John Maguire washed his hands of the situation.
In March 1863, officials from the Lands Office, including a certain Mr Crosby, were instructed to pass on information about individuals unlawfully occupying Crown Land to the police in Forbes. This list included Ben Hall's homestead and those in occupancy. Consequently, Hall's hut became one of the first in the Lachlan District to be subjected to these impending, arbitrary evictions. As set out under section 32 of the Act, which stated in part:
On being satisfied of the truth thereof, either by the admission of the person informed against or on other sufficient evidence such Justices shall issue their warrant addressed to the Commissioner of Crown Lands or to any Chief or District Constable or other proper officer requiring him forthwith to dispossess and remove such person from such land and to take possession of the same. (See Sources page.)
The severity of these actions, which left a mother and her baby exposed to the harsh elements, (It rained on the day) stirred discontent among Hall's close associates and significant landowners, one being William Jameison of Back Creek Station.
Nevertheless, Pottinger remained steadfast in his conviction that Hall's former residence was serving as a sanctuary for the elusive bushranger and other criminals. He perceived these individuals as of 'low character', a prejudiced view possibly that was influenced by his aristocratic background.
The destruction of Hall's home was a bold demonstration of Pottinger's intention to exert control over those he considered part of a criminal underclass. The inspector aimed to send a strong message that the police were a force to be respected and obeyed, not hindered.
In June 1863, Pottinger relayed a memorandum justifying his actions to the Inspector-General of police, Captain McLerie. The document underscored Pottinger's disdain for the class of people who, in his view, operated under a 'cone of silence' when dealing with the authorities. An extract follows:
I accordingly deemed it my duty to at once summarily interfere and conclusively show Hall and those of his class in the district that at any rate, as yet, they could not have everything exactly as they thought fit.⁷²
Dealing with the widespread illegal occupancy of Crown Land was a significant challenge for the government at the time. Many of these unauthorised occupants were known to support the bushrangers like Ben Hall actively, often providing them with food and shelter.
However, these exchanges were not necessarily born out of camaraderie but often involved substantial payment.
A correspondant noted Hall's view where Hall stated during a robbery:
That he had no alternative, as it
was impossible for him to escape, and that any attempt to do so,
would result in his immediate destruction by the hands of his friends
who looked to him for tribute as the price of his security. We
believe there is a great deal of truth in what this freebooter said;
for it is not probable that those who have so long fattened on his
ill-gotten gains would quietly submit to his quitting the scene of
his exploits, profitable to them although so hazardous to him.- Goulburn Herald and Chronicle 7 Dec 1864.
The apparent sympathy and assistance given to the bushrangers caused considerable frustration among the New South Wales Police, who sought stronger powers from Parliament to act against those suspected of providing safe havens.
However, the destruction of Ben Hall's home marked a significant step by the government in addressing the issue of unlawful occupancy. It was part of the government's broader strategy to tackle the problem of squatters who were residing on land without proper leasing agreements. However, these harsh actions did not go without criticism, with some sections of the press expressing strong disapproval of the government and police's behaviour. These critics argued that attempting to suppress support for bushrangers by any means necessary was an overreach of power. 'Sydney Morning Herald', April 28th, 1863; Dispossession of Illegal Squatters:The success and impunity with which Gardiner and his gang and other bushrangers have, during many months, carried on their depredations, have been to a considerable extent owing to the assistance and shelter that have been afforded them by a class of unauthorised occupants of Crown lands, known in the provincial slang as "Cockatoo squatters." It is satisfactory to learn that, in connection with other efforts that are being made by the police to drive out of their haunts the desperadoes whose doings have caused so much alarm in the Western districts, steps are being taken at the instigation of the Secretary for Lands for the dispossession of the harbourers of these rascals from the lands of which they have for a long-time held illegal possession. The officers in charge of the police at Bathurst, Young, and Forbes have been furnished from the Lands Department with lists of licensed holders of runs in the country between those three divisions, and all persons found in occupation not included in those lists will be proceeded with under the 32nd Clause of the Crown Lands Occupation Act, which provides for the removal of trespassers on public lands. The country comprehended in the above districts extends from the Fish River down as far as the levels near the Murrumbidgee, and reaches westward as far as the Billybong, and northward to the Lachlan. The police having received the lists, are preparing to put the law into operation, and we may expect shortly to hear if the enforced dispossession of some of these unlawful occupants (many of whom have accumulated considerable wealth), unless in the meantime they should anticipate their expulsion by clearing out.
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| Constable John Bohan who would assist Constable Hollister at the burning of Hall's home, and later act in Hall's death. |
I hear that the Government intend immediately putting an act in force, which, if properly carried out, must in time give a death blow to the bushranging profession : viz, "that all squatters, who cannot show a legal right to their occupancy, are to be driven off the land, and their homesteads razed to the ground." This at the first reading may appear harsh, but the stern necessities of the times demand it; no doubt that some innocent families will suffer, but they will be a very small minority, and perforce it must be so, as when the skilful surgical operator has to amputate a, diseased limb from an otherwise healthy, body, he, to make sure that all the foul parts are thoroughly taken off, has to cut away even some of that which is healthy and sound. So in the above case, a few of the truly honest must suffer, to enable the strong arm of the law to reach the large majority of real offenders. Yet, still some discretionary power might be left in the hands of the head of the police department of this widely infected district, and the officer in question, from his long bush experience, would, I'm sure, not hesitate a moment in pointing or counting out the few sound sheep from the immense rotten flock of vitiated unlicensed squatters that so largely infest the wilder parts of this unfortunate district; and so through the medium of the same practical and efficient officer,some allowances for the really honest unlicensed settler might be made, and thus even slight injustice be obviated; but whether or not, the above act must be at once enforced, for so long as these dens of refuge exist, so long will Gardiner's capture remain hopeless.
Indeed, it wasn't a universally smooth journey for the bushrangers, as they did face resistance from several quarters. One such critic was a friend of John Wilson, known by the pseudonym 'Veracity'.
'Veracity' was vocal in expressing his strong support for Sir Frederick Pottinger's policing and actions. Writing to the editors of various Sydney newspapers, he applauded Pottinger's carrying out the orders to clear and rid the Wheogo region of what he considered bushrangers' havens. 'Veracity' also commended the effort to oust the female sympathisers of Ben Hall, who had remained in residence at Sandy Creek. 'Veracity' saw these measures as necessary steps towards restoring law and order in the region.
This formidable individual, (Ben Hall) a considerable portion of whose business and pastime consists in threatening honest wayfarers' bodies and brains, is notorious in these regions as a bushranger and outlaw. His hut has long been known to the police as a rendezvous of Gardiner and his infamous gang, and therefore, socially speaking, as a pestilence and plague-spot in the community. He, however, held no property in the land which he occupied, not even as a lessee; and as it was wisely judged that the presence of such a man, even if occasional, and the existence of such an establishment were a constant menace to the peaceable and well-disposed who sojourned in those parts, in obedience to an expressed wish of the lessee himself, who was desirous of being ridded of such a neighbour, the place was finally burned down.⁷³
Despite the ongoing debate over the legality and morality of these actions even a century and a half later, the facts of the situation are irrefutable. Susan Prior and her mother, Mary Prior, were reportedly given a week's notice by Wilson, through Pottinger, to vacate the property. This demand came in early March 1863, soon after the Norton affair, but the eviction was not issued via a court order but from the list provided by the Lands Office. Inspector Pottinger, was it's instrument who orchestrated the final destruction of the hut under government sanction on March 14, 1863.
Constable William Hollister, an American by birth and one of the police officers present during the incineration, confirmed the date and conduct of these events in his police diary. Hollister was the same constable who had chased Hall and Patsy Daley after their raid on the Pinnacle police station just five weeks prior in February 1863. Furthermore, during Norton's capture, Ben Hall revealed to Inspector Norton his intention to murder Hollister, making the constable's role in the destruction of Hall's former home all the more poignant. Hollister diary entry of the incineration follows; Saturday 14th March 1863:
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| Hollister's actual diary entry, March 1863. Courtesy R.A.H.S. |
At Wheogo burnt Ben Halls house down and myself and constables Bohan and Hamilton went to Pinnacle station Hamilton to proceed to Gooloogong to take charge of the Gooloogong station.⁷⁴
Note: Newspapers and Government records show two versions spelling Susan's surname Pryor/Prior. I have at times used both versions. The photo on this page of William Hollister is the first time published at the time of writing.
Furthermore, a letter addressed to the editor of the 'Sydney Morning Herald' refers to Ben Hall's girlfriend Susan Prior's standing as:
The lady pro-proprietress of Ben Hall's household is a single female, who nevertheless luxuriates in the blessings of maternity, having, it is said, usurped that place in the outlaw's affections which properly belonged to the married Mrs Hall.⁷⁵
Leading up to the destruction Ben Hall upon hearing of the eviction order against his folk became furious whereby he:
Had threatened to scatter a considerable quantity of brains, to whomsoever belonging, if his mansion were in any way interfered with.⁷⁶
Despite Hall's violent threats, Sir Frederick Pottinger remained undeterred in enforcing Wilson's and the Lands Office orders. Commanding his constables to remove the inhabitants' possessions, their belongings were unceremoniously discarded into the inclement weather.
A letter to the 'Sydney Morning Herald' from 'Veracity' confirmed that the occupants were indeed given ample notice to vacate, challenging the established historical belief. In carrying out the orders, Pottinger was acutely aware of the potential backlash but felt justified in disrupting what he saw as a support network for the bushrangers. The harsh action taken was emblematic of the escalating conflict between law enforcement and bushrangers, with a few innocent individuals caught in the crossfire. Despite the controversy, Pottinger stood by his decision, viewing it as a necessary action in their quest to bring Ben Hall and his gang to justice.
This hot-bed of rascality was not destroyed until after frequent notice was given to the occupants to clear out, but instead of doing so they pertinaciously held on, and when at length it became necessary to eject them and destroy their den, the furniture and other valuables were first removed, and left at the disposal of their owners.⁷⁷
Following the destruction, Susan Prior, the mother of Ben Hall's infant daughter, was left to watch helplessly as their dwelling was set ablaze. Although her home was lost, Susan was undeterred, returning to Lambing Flat, where she remained for some time before moving to Boorowa. There, she began a relationship with a man named Alfred Stonham around 1864. They stayed together until Alfred's death in 1907 at Tangmangaroo, near Boorowa. Despite their separation, Ben Hall did not abandon Susan and his child, Mary. He frequently visited them, providing support and using their Boorowa home as a sanctuary during his years roaming the Boorowa district. In 1864, Susan gave birth to a son, Alfred. Evidence suggests the boy was Hall's.
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| Rare portrait of William Jameison father of bushranger John Jameison. c. 1860. |
Appalled by the treatment of Susan and her family, Jameison penned a heartfelt letter to parliamentarian Mr Harpur, the son of Sarah Walsh of Wheogo, stepmother of the Walsh sisters, and Ben Hall's former wife, recounted the events of that day. His account suggested that Ben Hall had tried unsuccessfully to draw the police away during the eviction. Jamieson's correspondence offers a deeply personal insight into the tumultuous events of the time, reflecting a shared community sentiment of outrage towards the authorities' treatment of mother and baby.
Sir-"I must tell you about burning of houses and turning women and a baby out in the cold to get shelter under the trees in wet. One of the women is now under the doctor's care, from being out with only a small bit of calico to keep the night air and cold from her and a baby of two months old. That was after Sir Frederick burnt the house and all that was in it. The two women and baby had to stop out in the wet. Sir Frederick and two men were, at Hall's house. He burnt the house down and turned the women out. The man (Hall) was only a hundred yards from them on a knocked-up horse. He only galloped a quarter of a mile, and then his horse gave in, and he jumped off and let the horse go. They got the horse but not the man. Still, Sir Frederick was riding as good a horse as was in the district; but he acted in his usual way, disputing with the women, instead of going after the bushrangers. That is the way he has always acted, for he has not yet taken a man that tried to get away; and then his excuse is to the Government that the squatters harbour them.⁷⁸
Mr Jameison was the father of John Jameison, a young man who found himself in the company of Ben Hall and John 'Warrigal' Walsh. He had been apprehended by the police on multiple occasions and was known to have participated in several hold-ups.
Not long after Jameison's candid letter surfaced, he died under suspicious circumstances following a fall from his horse near Goulburn. His death was a shock to all. To this day his death swirls in mystery.
While Jameison in his dealings had shown both admiration and criticism for Pottinger, his thoughts on the police's conduct, especially on the occasion of the incineration, were further articulated in another letter sent to the editor of 'The Sydney Morning Herald.' This letter was shared by John A. Hux after his death revealing more of Jamieson's insights and opinions about the controversial law enforcement practices of the time.
Not long after Jameison's candid letter surfaced, he died under suspicious circumstances following a fall from his horse near Goulburn. His death was a shock to all. To this day his death swirls in mystery.
While Jameison in his dealings had shown both admiration and criticism for Pottinger, his thoughts on the police's conduct, especially on the occasion of the incineration, were further articulated in another letter sent to the editor of 'The Sydney Morning Herald.' This letter was shared by John A. Hux after his death revealing more of Jamieson's insights and opinions about the controversial law enforcement practices of the time.
Some short time before the unfortunate man Jamieson died, he visited this township. I had a conversation with him, during which the conduct of the police was very warmly discussed—Jamieson being particularly severe on Sir F. Pottinger for turning out the woman and burning down Hall's house, concluding with the following words, as near as I can possibly recollect:—"I admit he (Sir F. P.) is the most courageous and plucky policeman that ever I knew, and had he been here some few years since he would have played hell with the cattle racket, but he is a damn wretch to turn women out of house and shelter.⁷⁹
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| Colonial Secretary Mr Charles Cowper. c. 1870's. |
Pottinger's memorandum was presented to the NSW Legislative Assembly with the intent to placate members' concerns by providing a comprehensive account of the law enforcement's challenges in policing such a vast, largely uninhabited and desolate portion of the state. The document illustrated Pottinger's conduct and underscored the difficulties faced by other commanders in an untamed territory, where their efforts were often unappreciated and scorned by insulated parliamentarians who rarely ventured beyond Macquarie Street.
Intriguingly, Pottinger addressed the issue of Ben Hall's home's destruction in a rather offhand manner, attributing the decision to John Wilson. It highlighted the complexity of the circumstances, and the delicate balance between law enforcement and individual rights in a region often dictated by lawlessness.
But one ejectment has been enforced by Lachlan police. Ben Hall's house was alone burnt down, and that at the request of the then (by mortgage) actual proprietor. The house was at the time occupied by Henry Gibson (notorious villain since committed), also illegally at large from Victoria, Mrs McGuire, and Susan Pryor, and Hall's mother, and was daily frequented by bushrangers, a week's notice was given and nothing destroyed—no woman or child frightened or molested.⁸⁰
Surprisingly, Pottinger mistakenly took Mrs Mary Prior as Ben Hall's mother. (The full memorandum can be read on the Traps Page.)
Author's Note: The death of William Jamieson at the time was considered a mystery;
Author's Note: The death of William Jamieson at the time was considered a mystery;
It was a three day's trip to Goulburn, Mr Jamieson making the trip from there, removing his money from the Commercial Bank, Goulburn, intending same to be placed at Young. He was found on the road four miles out of Goulburn by a man named Broffie; he had no pocketbook, and the valise was gone, being taken off his saddle; he was insensible and taken into Goulburn where he died at 3 o'clock next morning. He was a very fine horseman; his horse Merrylegs was found feeding 100 yards from where he was lying, but his mare, Lauristina, whom he was leading back to the station, was gone. £50 reward was offered for the recovery of Lauristina, as by finding her same might lead to the cause of death, but she was never heard of again. William Jamieson's death was a mystery never unravelled. He was a very abstemious man, a perfect gentleman, very smart all-round, a good runner, and made quite a name for himself in performing a feat, while at a place between Burrowa and Walla Walla, which has been called Jamieson's Flat.
Every story indeed has two sides, and the events surrounding the incineration of Hall's home are no exception. Contrary to a somewhat chivalrous portrayal of Pottinger and his men's interaction with Susan Prior during the destruction of the dwelling, the act led to an immediate state of poverty for the women and children inhabiting the house.
On the day of the police action, Ben Hall was present, and his attempts to distract the police and engage them in a confrontation were met with dismissal. This refusal to be drawn away from their mission by Hall led to considerable ridicule of Pottinger by Mr Harpur. As documented in the Parliamentary Hansard, Harpur praised Hall's courageous attempt to divert the police's attention. Still, it was insufficient to deter the determined and resolute Sir Frederick Pottinger. This incident's narrative highlights the tension and conflict between the bushrangers and the police and their families.
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| Joseph Jehoshaphat Harpur. (1810-1878) |
On the day of the police action, Ben Hall was present, and his attempts to distract the police and engage them in a confrontation were met with dismissal. This refusal to be drawn away from their mission by Hall led to considerable ridicule of Pottinger by Mr Harpur. As documented in the Parliamentary Hansard, Harpur praised Hall's courageous attempt to divert the police's attention. Still, it was insufficient to deter the determined and resolute Sir Frederick Pottinger. This incident's narrative highlights the tension and conflict between the bushrangers and the police and their families.
When the police came to the house of Ben Hall, he (Hall) ran away, mounted his horse. Sir Frederick Pottinger sent two policemen after him. They chased him, and Ben Hall with two revolvers jumped from his horse and faced them. The policemen brought back the jaded horse to the house. At that time, Sir Frederick Pottinger was riding one of the best horses in the district, but when these men came back, instead of going after the robber, he ordered them to set fire to the house. They burnt it down, the women not being allowed to bring out their clothes. It was raining at the time, and the women and children took shelter under a gum tree. However bad Ben Hall was, it was not right to punish these poor women and children.⁸¹
In the wake of his home's incineration, Ben Hall's anger towards Sir Frederick Pottinger grew into a seething, all-consuming hatred. Hall had failed to carry out his threat to "scatter a considerable quantity of brains" during the police action. However, the destruction of the home that he had built with his own hands marked a decisive turning point in Hall's life. It was the final nail in the coffin of any hope he might have had for redemption. The path was set.
From that point onwards, Hall wholeheartedly embraced a path of criminality, throwing himself willingly into the arms of 'Hades'. As the years passed, the charred remnants of Ben Hall's once cherished home stood as a stark reminder of life irrevocably changed. The remains of his house visited and recorded by R. Fitzgerald of Wamboyne in 1876, were a tangible testament to the personal tragedy and lawless exploits that marked Ben Hall's infamous legacy when Fitzgerald writing for the 'Wyalong Advocate' in 1919 commented:
From that point onwards, Hall wholeheartedly embraced a path of criminality, throwing himself willingly into the arms of 'Hades'. As the years passed, the charred remnants of Ben Hall's once cherished home stood as a stark reminder of life irrevocably changed. The remains of his house visited and recorded by R. Fitzgerald of Wamboyne in 1876, were a tangible testament to the personal tragedy and lawless exploits that marked Ben Hall's infamous legacy when Fitzgerald writing for the 'Wyalong Advocate' in 1919 commented:
That was the month of May, and we used to get a load of shearing supplies to take out to Caragabal station. We went through by Wheogo, and there I saw the remains of Ben Hall's Hut, it had been burnt down, and there were only the burnt stumps remaining.⁸²
However, after the deed was done in a surprise statement, the Lands Minister, Mr Robinson, denied that Hall's home was incinerated as means of the Crown Lands Act.
However, after the deed was done in a surprise statement, the Lands Minister, Mr Robinson, denied that Hall's home was incinerated as means of the Crown Lands Act.
There was a communication suggesting the expulsion by the police of illegal holders, but it was not thought advisable to act in this way. He believed the police had burnt down the residence of the notorious bushranger, Ben Hall; but it was the only case, and was not done under the Land Act.
Author's Note: Ben Hall and McGuire were not the only people who owed monies to John Wilson, Mrs Sarah Walsh, Ben Hall's mother-in-law, also borrowed money from Wilson for legal representation associated with her stepson's arrest after Pottinger failed to capture Frank Gardiner at Kitty Browns home and he took the boy instead, (young John 'Warrigal' Walsh would die in the Forbes lock-up from Gaol fever in 1863) John Wilson would take legal action against the Walsh’s and would also become the eventual owner of Wheogo Station. (See article left.)
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| John Wilson's claim on Wheogo Station. |
In the aftermath of Patsy Daley's capture, the burning out of Hall, Sir Frederick Pottinger rode once more through the expanses of the Wheogo region, his energy renewed and his determination set. His ambition was clear: to finally capture Ben Hall. Fate seemed to favour his mission when, near the charred remains of Hall's home, he spotted Hall himself, along with the evicted women who had been forced to reside in a makeshift calico tent.
Despite their sudden eviction, these women continued to support Hall, providing him with valuable information, food, and other necessities. On sight of the traps Hall, spurring his horse into a gallop, Pottinger and his troopers charged towards Hall and his companion, John O'Meally, hoping to cut off their escape. But as night descended, the bushrangers vanished into the thick pine scrub. They abandoned their equipment in their haste, and Hall even left his horse behind.
In the wake of this pursuit, Pottinger telegraphed the Inspector General of Police in Sydney, recounting the events of March 18, 1863. He described his encounter with Hall and O'Meally, shedding light on the close ties between the two outlaws. The presence of O'Meally with Hall, not long after the murder of publican Cirkel at Stoney Creek, Young raised suspicions about Hall's involvement in the brutal act at 'The Miners Home Inn'.
In the aftermath of the chase, Susan Prior's younger brother, William, was apprehended and intensely questioned about Hall's whereabouts. Despite their hardships, Hall's network of supporters remained resilient, their loyalty seemingly unswayed by the ruthless tactics of law enforcement.
Despite their sudden eviction, these women continued to support Hall, providing him with valuable information, food, and other necessities. On sight of the traps Hall, spurring his horse into a gallop, Pottinger and his troopers charged towards Hall and his companion, John O'Meally, hoping to cut off their escape. But as night descended, the bushrangers vanished into the thick pine scrub. They abandoned their equipment in their haste, and Hall even left his horse behind.
In the wake of this pursuit, Pottinger telegraphed the Inspector General of Police in Sydney, recounting the events of March 18, 1863. He described his encounter with Hall and O'Meally, shedding light on the close ties between the two outlaws. The presence of O'Meally with Hall, not long after the murder of publican Cirkel at Stoney Creek, Young raised suspicions about Hall's involvement in the brutal act at 'The Miners Home Inn'.
In the aftermath of the chase, Susan Prior's younger brother, William, was apprehended and intensely questioned about Hall's whereabouts. Despite their hardships, Hall's network of supporters remained resilient, their loyalty seemingly unswayed by the ruthless tactics of law enforcement.
Camped about Wheogo till Sunday, when, just after sundown, came with two of my troopers on Ben Hall and John O’Meally, standing about six hundred yards off, talking to Mrs McGuire and Susan Pryor the female aforesaid. The woman at once gave the word, and the men bolted into the brush. We, however, pressed them so hard that Hall had to give us the slip-on foot, leaving his horse and swag, containing ammunition and firearms-magnificent Tranter revolver and Government pistol, taken from the Pinnacle. It being by this time quite dark, and the scrub being dense, we could do nothing more, and returned to camp. Next morning, we took up the tracks for some twenty-six miles, till, about three miles hence, we apprehended William Pryor, a lad of about seventeen, whom I hope to make very useful. I start again in an hour, till last night none of us had slept in a bed, and none of the horses had a feed since we left Forbes.
Note: William Prior is the younger brother of Susan Prior. Also, Hall's possession of the weapons stolen from the Pinnacle police station demonstrate his complicity in the February robbery.
Extract from William Hollister's Diary below, held at the Royal Australian Historical Society, Sydney. Portrait of William Hollister, first time published.
The arbitrary actions of Sir Frederick were recorded in Hollister's diary and corroborate the information contained in Pottinger's telegram of the 18th March; Hollister Diary Entry-Sunday 15th March 1863:
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| William Hollister. c. 1870's. Courtesy of R.A.H.S. |
With Const Bohan from this station to Pinnacle reefs and met Sir Frederick Pottinger Constables Garlin Day and Dargin Brechs from Pinnacle reefs to Wheogo myself with Sir Frederick Pottinger and Constable Day went up to Ben Halls place got within 500 yard and saw two men who on seeing us bolted encounted gave chase but being dusk they got away in coming back found a horse saddle and bridle on a swag another saddle a government horse pistol on the swag and a quantity of ammunition bottle of port wine Poncho and Mrs MaGuire said the two men were Ben Hall and young Prior Found one Tranters revolver.
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| William Hollister. NSW Police Employment Record May 1862. New South Wales, Australia, Registers of Police Employment, 1847-1885. |
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| Hollister's diary, March 1863. |
In an attempt to address these concerns, Sir Frederick Pottinger, responsible for the Lachlan Police District, submitted a memorandum to parliament. This memo, previously requested by the Colonial Secretary, contained a detailed account of Pottinger's conduct and his experience overseeing the district's policing. Furthermore, it provided an insightful depiction of the territory under his jurisdiction.
Pottinger's goal was clear: to shed light on the enormous challenges the police force faced, given the district's sheer vastness and complex social dynamics. He hoped that by presenting an in-depth view of his tasks, he could quell the mounting criticism and bolster understanding among the honourable members of the intricacies and tribulations encountered in his line of duty.
The Lachlan police district comprises an area of about 600 miles by 200, but does not include the Wedden. 1. Forbes is ninety-five miles from Young, the point of junction between the two districts (the Lachlan and Captain Zouch's), being just half-way. 2. The Lachlan police do duty in the bush invariably in plain clothes, saddles, &c., without swords, disguised in fact as far as possible like bushrangers. Their 'orders' are to 'bush out,' avoiding roads, public-houses, stations, &c., in short, to in every way conceal themselves and their movements, which orders are generally duly obeyed. I have myself 'bushed out' with parties for fifteen and twenty days consecutively, the men subsisting solely on the 'rations' with them, and the horses on grass feed. From the 15th of June to the 1st of December, 1862, I slept out in the bush ninety-three nights, and I am prepared to show that I have (by the universal admission of all my men), done more bush duty than any officer or constable in the colony.⁸³
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| Sir Frederick Pottinger in the uniform of Inspector. c. 1864. |
Adding to the turmoil, the New South Wales Police Gazette entries in the early months of 1863 were inundated with crime reports from 'the interior'. This rampant criminal activity seemed insurmountable for the police in the afflicted districts. As such, many holdups and robberies often went unreported due to victim apathy and a prevailing sentiment that the police were reluctant to respond in any significant manner.
Ernest Bowler, a contemporary observer, exemplified this attitude of indifference. Bowler recounted a personal experience of being held up by Ben Hall's gang members, an incident he chose not to report, highlighting the general sense of futility many felt regarding police intervention at the time. 'The Moleskin Gentry'; by Frederick Howard. Ernest explains:
I was surrounded by four revolvers at my head, so close I could see the bullets in the chambers. One of the boys called me to jump off, as he wanted my horse. Then Ben Hall rode up asking what all the noise was about, Hall said "It’s Mr Bowler. It’s alright let him go.
Earnest then rode on to the town of Orange, and the morning's experience had left him depressed rather than angry, and he reflected that the police were:
Always away on some other route when the boys were close at hand.
Later in the evening Ernest attended a dance after the day's experience, stated:
I didn't take much persuading to go to the ball.
While the evening progressed, the police got wind of Bowler's holdup and called him away from the dance to explain why he had not reported the incident to the police. Bowler's replied:
Because, I thought it was useless; the police always told where they got their information, so I had made up my mind to tell no more.
Although this angered the police, it became the general consensus for survival amongst people living on isolated properties and hamlets in the Central Western Districts.
Note on Earnest Bowler; FORBES, Monday, 7th September 1896.- "This morning news was brought to the town of the death of Mr Ernest Ulysses Bowler, managing partner for Messrs. Suttor and Co, of Boyd station, about 20 miles from Forbes. The deceased gentleman had been suffering from a weak heart for some years and as he was 67 years of age, his demise was not altogether unexpected. He was judging at the Grenfell show that week and returned home on Saturday. On Sunday night he retired to bed in his usual health but awoke at about 2 o'clock and died in less than half an hour. His remains will be brought into Forbes tomorrow for interment. Mr Bowler was the son of Major Bowler a well-known colonist of the early days. Mr Earnest Bowler was one of the earliest pioneers of the Lachlan country and has been a resident of this part of the country for about fifty years. He was greatly respected in this district and great sympathy is expressed with his family. He leaves a widow, one son, and one daughter."
Inspector General of Police John McLerie was the officer charged with the task of overseeing all aspects of policing in New South Wales. As the officer in charge, he had control over the publication of the New South Wales Police Gazette, a crucial tool for disseminating crime reports throughout the state.
Note on Earnest Bowler; FORBES, Monday, 7th September 1896.- "This morning news was brought to the town of the death of Mr Ernest Ulysses Bowler, managing partner for Messrs. Suttor and Co, of Boyd station, about 20 miles from Forbes. The deceased gentleman had been suffering from a weak heart for some years and as he was 67 years of age, his demise was not altogether unexpected. He was judging at the Grenfell show that week and returned home on Saturday. On Sunday night he retired to bed in his usual health but awoke at about 2 o'clock and died in less than half an hour. His remains will be brought into Forbes tomorrow for interment. Mr Bowler was the son of Major Bowler a well-known colonist of the early days. Mr Earnest Bowler was one of the earliest pioneers of the Lachlan country and has been a resident of this part of the country for about fifty years. He was greatly respected in this district and great sympathy is expressed with his family. He leaves a widow, one son, and one daughter."
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| Electric Telegraph. Image courtesy NLA. |
Suddenly crime reporting in the 1860s took a great leap forward through the newly installed and innovative Telegraph line. The line became a vital artery for McLerie, funnelling reports of crimes committed throughout the vast police territories under his command almost instantly. Despite the telegraph's relative speed, it often could remain up to two weeks for the Police Gazette to be relayed, assessed, printed and dispatched via mail coach to the relevant police districts. Officers, eager to capture the lucrative bounties on offer for criminals like Ben Hall, Gilbert, O'Meally, and Gardiner, would often take the initiative and launch a pursuit prior to the receipt of these reports.
The first Telegraph line in New South Wales was constructed between Sydney and Liverpool, spanning a distance of 20 miles, and was operational by 30th December 1857. By 1858, the Liverpool line was extended to Albury on the New South Wales-Victorian border, covering over 300 miles. Importantly, this route traversed through the Southern and Western police districts of New South Wales, bringing real-time communication to the doorstep of these remote communities. By 1861, Sydney was linked to Brisbane by telegraph, marking a significant shift in the way information was shared and potentially shifting the balance in the police's battle against bushrangers such as Ben Hall.
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| Inspector-General of NSW Police, Captain John M'lerie. c. 1863. Penzig. |
These telegraphs had their fingers on the pulse of polices' activities and were able to pass the word swiftly for a payment. The young boys, such as Johnny 'Warrigal' Walsh, Ben Hall's brother-in-law, were adept at eluding police while delivering messages. Still, another great help in the bush telegraph service was rendered by girls who could ride fast and hold their tongues, like the O'Meally sisters.
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| ".. too late there goes the telegraph." Image courtesy NLA. |
A perfect system of 'bush telegraphy' had been established in every locality where their friends resided; and as they invariably moved with a given object from their hiding places, and either returned direct to the place from which they had started or made for some other friendly shelter in another direction, they were always in touch with their 'telegraphs,' and were thus kept posted in every movement made by the police force. Upon these 'telegraphs' the bushrangers depended as absolutely as do the officers of an army upon their scouts when in the territory of an enemy. Flitting on fast-footed horses from station to station in the disturbed districts, or mixing with the people in the nearest town, generally, the headquarters of the police, the 'telegraphs' would pick up every scrap of information likely to be of interest to the hunted men, sometimes coming into contact with the police, and learning directly all they desired to know, and, having satisfied themselves concerning police, intentions, they would suddenly disappear and conveyor send their news to the camp where the bushrangers were located. Occasionally one of these 'telegraphs' would be arrested,. Still, as nothing could be proved against him, a few days confinement between the time of his arrest and his discharge by the magistrate formed the worst of his sufferings. And should a suspected 'telegraph' find himself too closely watched or be arrested, others were always ready to take up the work. They were invariably young men, some of them mere boys, intimately acquainted with the bush, who could cover miles of the roughest country more speedily than the badly mounted troopers could ride along good roads. Ben Hall, Gilbert, and O'Meally had hosts of such friends in the Lachlan district.⁸⁴
During Hall's early days as a stockman and his tenure at Sandy Creek, Ben Hall had built a network of relationships with individuals who held him in high regard. As he ventured into a life of bushranging, these connections proved invaluable, offering safe harbour to Hall and his partners. This support, coupled with his trusted 'Bush Telegraph' network, allowed the gang to remain elusive, frustrating the police and staying a step ahead of their pursuers. Despite their notorious exploits, their ability to remain under the radar was a testament to Hall's strategic foresight and his careful cultivation of relationships throughout his life.
During Hall's early days as a stockman and his tenure at Sandy Creek, Ben Hall had built a network of relationships with individuals who held him in high regard. As he ventured into a life of bushranging, these connections proved invaluable, offering safe harbour to Hall and his partners. This support, coupled with his trusted 'Bush Telegraph' network, allowed the gang to remain elusive, frustrating the police and staying a step ahead of their pursuers. Despite their notorious exploits, their ability to remain under the radar was a testament to Hall's strategic foresight and his careful cultivation of relationships throughout his life.
Bushrangers are harboured and assisted, the fact that they have belonged so distinctly to definite localities would demonstrate it. The Western gang had its headquarters in the Weddin district, to which it could always retire for concealment, and out of the range of which it was always more exposed; and the associations and relationships its members held with persons resident in the locality quite explain the security it enjoyed and the way in which the police were baffled. But the police knew too well how much the bushrangers were harboured and helped by a set of the residents, some of whom were their relatives, and many of whom were their chums. As long as bushrangers are harboured, and sheltered, and warned, so long the police will hunt for them blindfold. But wherever the police can rely on the co-operation of the inhabitants, they show that they are not deficient in skill or courage. But it is not merely for the armed brigands themselves that diligent search should be made. Such men as Gardner have, doubtless, like their English prototypes, their spies, their harbourers, their "fences." Which way goes their most promiscuous plunder? Where do they brew their punch when they have not a pillaged householder to mix for them? Who are the judicious friends that inform them where they will find an easy booty, and where they will not find a policeman? Till these questions are fully answered, even the apprehension of the most notorious ringleaders will scarcely put an end to the system. The half-hearted scoundrels who keep ostensibly within the shadow of the law, merely that they may share the prey, jackal-like, with the bolder ruffians who defy law-these are the worst traitors to civilisation-the worst enemies to order and security.
Furthermore, there were many persons of good standing who were often intimidated and threatened with summary punishment for not attending to Ben Hall's needs. As commented on:
Other people, under the influence of fear, were compelled to supply them with food and arms.
In his 'Reminiscences of Ex-Superintendent Sanderson,' published in 'Old Times' in May 1903, Charles Sanderson offered insights into the challenging environment in which the police found themselves. He spoke of the solid wall of resistance they encountered in their investigations, a resistance formed by sympathisers who refused to betray Hall and his gang. Sanderson noted the palpable fear and anxiety among those who might have been willing to offer information to the police. Their silence was a testament to the power and influence that Hall and his gang had among the populace, illustrating the complex social dynamics that underpinned their life of crime.
The men of the road were looked upon as heroes and were surrounded with such a crowd of sympathisers and friends, who often acted as bush telegraphs for them, that it was often impossible to keep our movements secret, to say nothing of getting trustworthy information. Needless to say, these people were well paid for their trouble and shared in an indirect way in the proceeds of robberies and sticking-up cases. Even when people were willing to give information they were afraid to; it would mean that they might be shot themselves, or at least get their farms, stables, or haystacks burnt. I never went into a respectable house if I wanted to learn anything. We had scores of persons who wilfully came and gave us the wrong information. When an “affair” was reported, I never looked for the perpetrators in the locality where it had taken place. I let others do that, for I knew that the game I wanted was, by that time, in a very different direction.
In his determined pursuit, Sir Frederick Pottinger remained relentless,
scouring the region of Wheogo and maintaining vigilance over the
smouldering remnants of Sandy Creek. He sought any trace or hint that
might lead him to Ben Hall, often pausing at various stations to extract
information about Hall's potential whereabouts. Through his connections
with John Wilson, the new owner of Hall's former station, Pottinger
received a valuable tip-off: Hall had allegedly left Sandy Creek
accompanied by a woman, suspected to be Elen Maguire. Wasting no time,
Pottinger relayed this fresh intelligence via telegraph to his superior,
the Inspector-General, outlining Hall's movements and potential
destination. Thus, the net began to tighten around the elusive
bushranger, the result of diligent police work and the power of the
burgeoning communication technology of the era. Telegram dated the 23rd March 1863:
Returned here last night, without any further definite results. On Monday last Mrs Maguire and Ben Hall cleared out via Weddin Mountains for the Fish River. Received information to that effect, and accordingly tracked them till foiled, some twenty miles from Wheogo, by inundated Plain. Heard of Hall at the Weddin, so pushed on to Gaps, in my district, leading to Fish River, but coming across no tracks, returned home via Cowra, men and horses having for twelve days and nights bushed out. Ben Hall and party must have crossed onto the Fish River via Marengo or Burrawang in the Southern district. Discovered several camps about Wheogo, and recovered sundry saddles, bridles. &c., &c., stolen property. Please telegraph touching the limits of my district towards the Weddin. The O’Mealy’s and others ought to be at once cleared out, I but I cannot act at present.
Compounding Sir Frederick Pottinger's mounting challenges, the Lachlan District's harsh climate and unpredictable weather patterns proved to be significant obstacles. Having suffered a severe drought from mid-1861 to early 1863, the area finally received much-needed rainfall. However, this relief was a double-edged sword. While the replenished Lachlan River, along with its creeks and waterholes, was a welcome sight, the downpours also washed away crucial tracks and traces that the police had been meticulously following.
For the men on the force, already strained from their relentless pursuit of Hall and his gang, the inclement weather made their task even more taxing. They were now grappling with harsh, cold and damp conditions.
Meanwhile, it can be assumed that Ben Hall, far more acquainted with the land and its secrets, sought refuge in the warm embrace of a shepherd's hut or a supportive harbourer's abode, protected from the downpour. He must have been acutely aware of how the harsh weather played to his advantage, erasing his tracks and further complicating the pursuit of Pottinger and his men. As reported:
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| 'inundated Plain' Image courtesy NLA. |
For the men on the force, already strained from their relentless pursuit of Hall and his gang, the inclement weather made their task even more taxing. They were now grappling with harsh, cold and damp conditions.
Meanwhile, it can be assumed that Ben Hall, far more acquainted with the land and its secrets, sought refuge in the warm embrace of a shepherd's hut or a supportive harbourer's abode, protected from the downpour. He must have been acutely aware of how the harsh weather played to his advantage, erasing his tracks and further complicating the pursuit of Pottinger and his men. As reported:
For some months during the past summer, the bed of the Lachlan, throughout very many miles of its course, has been dry with the exception of waterholes at a few places, far distant from each other. During the past week, however, an extensive fresh has come down, by which the channel of the river has been completely filled, and the water is now commencing to flood the flat and to run out into the numerous creeks, which are to be found on the Lower Lachlan, this flood will prove of very great service to the settler, as it will not only ensure a plentiful supply of water for the stock but will also, by swamping the flats, cause a luxuriant crop of grass to spring up on land which otherwise would remain barren and unprofitable.
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| Bushrangers in Australia By: Joseph Ratcliffe Skelton. c. 1910. |
Although initially limited in its reach, the new network commenced its operations as early as June 1860. It continued to expand gradually, eventually reaching all major settlements throughout NSW and beyond, following the path of the telegraph lines.
This emerging technology was praised for its potential to safeguard individuals' funds against the risk of robbery. The Money Order system represented a major leap forward in financial security, making it increasingly difficult for the likes of Ben Hall and his gang to intercept and seize people's hard-earned money. It marked a significant turning point in the fight against bushrangers, demonstrating the power of innovation in thwarting criminal activities, highlighted in the 'Moreton Bay Courier', Thursday 26th July 1860;
The plan, which is very simple, may be briefly explained as follows: -a working man who presented himself at a Money Order Office with a sum-say £4-for the Savings' Bank would obtain a money order to that amount, and enclose it in a printed form to the Savings Bank Manager, who would in course of post return to him the usual voucher, and the transaction would be complete. In withdrawing the money, he would have to transmit by post this voucher to the Savings Bank, and he would receive in return a Post Office money order to that amount, minus the commission.
As 1863 unfolded, the use of Money Orders became increasingly encouraged and publicised in journals and newspapers throughout the colony. The benefits of this system were extolled, especially for the rural population. It was seen as a vital tool to secure the transfer of their funds, thereby reducing the attractiveness of their hard-earned cash to opportunistic highwaymen.
The press played a pivotal role in promoting this new financial service. They emphasised its safety features, ease of use, and the significant layer of protection it added against the ever-looming threat of bushrangers like Ben Hall and his gang. The push for the widespread adoption of Money Orders served as a testament to the times - a symbol of society's willingness to adapt and implement new strategies to counter the persistent menace of bushranging. In this way, the narrative of the notorious bushranger, Ben Hall, was not just a tale of crime and punishment but also a catalyst for significant societal and technological progress. 'The Sydney Morning Herald', 27th January 1863:
The press played a pivotal role in promoting this new financial service. They emphasised its safety features, ease of use, and the significant layer of protection it added against the ever-looming threat of bushrangers like Ben Hall and his gang. The push for the widespread adoption of Money Orders served as a testament to the times - a symbol of society's willingness to adapt and implement new strategies to counter the persistent menace of bushranging. In this way, the narrative of the notorious bushranger, Ben Hall, was not just a tale of crime and punishment but also a catalyst for significant societal and technological progress. 'The Sydney Morning Herald', 27th January 1863:
THE POSTMASTER-GENERAL complains of money and other valuable articles being sent in unregistered letters. In France, he observes, it is treated as a penal offence to do this; and in the United Kingdom, letters obviously containing money are not only treated as registered letters but charged with a double registration fee. The introduction of the money-order system, which after too long delay has at length been established (though from want of accommodation in the cramped Post Office buildings, the office is on the opposite side of the street) will tend to diminish the practice of sending money in letters. As the system becomes known, and the people become familiarised to its use, it will be availed of more fully. There is also another cause in operation which will have the effect desired by the POSTMASTER of diminishing the quantity of money, sent up and down the country in letters, though that cause is one that he could hardly have recommended, or speak of with approval the singular success and impunity with which her MAJESTY'S mail now stopped mid ransacked on the highroad acts as a strong inducement to all cautious people not to send money by that means. GARDINER and his colleagues are certainly helping to increase the business of the Money Order Office, by making it so unsafe to enclose notes in letters.
We hope that the Money Order Office will be brought into extensive use for the suppression of highway robbery. While the policeman is exerting himself to affect a cure, for that evil, the money order may facilitate the still more desirable process of prevention. A few days ago, the newspaper reports informed us of a disgusted bushranger, who bitterly complained that there was no use in robbing the particular mail that he was then rifling since it never contained anything worth carrying away. The fellow seemed to consider himself hardly used, and probably a continuance of such fruitless results to his enterprises would induce him to direct his genius to some other sphere of action possibly an honest one. We may fairly conclude that the days of gold escort robberies are at an end. Large bank bills, which are mostly payable to well-known firms in town, are not of much value to highwaymen; and in future, they must rest their hopes upon the registered letters containing small sums in bank notes, which may amount to something handsome in the aggregate. But if the Post-office money order be generally substituted for the banknote, as a means of remittance, even this source of revenue will be lost to the thief, who will hardly be likely to risk his life or liberty for the pleasure of seizing a few documents which are utterly worthless to him. Even if, in the extremity of his disappointment, he should destroy the orders, the money will not be lost, but will still be the property of the remitter. When a sum of ten pounds can thus be safely insured from all the perils of the road by the payment of a shilling, the person who neglects so simple and reasonable a precaution will hardly deserve pity for any loss that he may sustain. A traveller called upon to stand and deliver might complacently baffle his assailant by presenting him with a Post-office order. The business of the road would be done, and the professional highwayman would become an extinct animal.
We hope that the Money Order Office will be brought into extensive use for the suppression of highway robbery. While the policeman is exerting himself to affect a cure, for that evil, the money order may facilitate the still more desirable process of prevention. A few days ago, the newspaper reports informed us of a disgusted bushranger, who bitterly complained that there was no use in robbing the particular mail that he was then rifling since it never contained anything worth carrying away. The fellow seemed to consider himself hardly used, and probably a continuance of such fruitless results to his enterprises would induce him to direct his genius to some other sphere of action possibly an honest one. We may fairly conclude that the days of gold escort robberies are at an end. Large bank bills, which are mostly payable to well-known firms in town, are not of much value to highwaymen; and in future, they must rest their hopes upon the registered letters containing small sums in bank notes, which may amount to something handsome in the aggregate. But if the Post-office money order be generally substituted for the banknote, as a means of remittance, even this source of revenue will be lost to the thief, who will hardly be likely to risk his life or liberty for the pleasure of seizing a few documents which are utterly worthless to him. Even if, in the extremity of his disappointment, he should destroy the orders, the money will not be lost, but will still be the property of the remitter. When a sum of ten pounds can thus be safely insured from all the perils of the road by the payment of a shilling, the person who neglects so simple and reasonable a precaution will hardly deserve pity for any loss that he may sustain. A traveller called upon to stand and deliver might complacently baffle his assailant by presenting him with a Post-office order. The business of the road would be done, and the professional highwayman would become an extinct animal.
However, as with all new inventions and systems, there was an inevitable resistance to change. Despite the clear benefits, the adoption of the Money Order system was slow in some quarters, and this prompted an observant 'Sydney Mail' correspondent to write:
We certainly are surprised that people will be so rash and obstinate in remitting notes to Sydney and other places by these opportunities. There is now every facility given to forward money in a secure manner, by means of bank drafts and money orders. Notwithstanding these modes of transit, many prefer the very dangerous one of sending notes, either whole or in halves, in letters through the medium of the post. This is dangerous at all times. Rivers and creeks are often flooded, and in swimming the horses across them the mail bags are liable to be saturated with water, and the contents materially if not wholly damaged. To the bushranging fraternity, it is a lucky windfall, as bank notes are the only portion of booty in a mail robbery that is valuable to them. Bank drafts, cheques, orders, &c;, are mere waste paper. We certainly consider it is holding a premium out to crime, the remitting of specie and notes by the mail. If this system was once discouraged, if people would only come to the determination to alter this plan of forwarding money, we should have fewer mail robberies; in fact, they would soon cease altogether.
Adapting to the increasing threat posed by the informants, Ben Hall's survival hinged on an undercurrent of mistrust and a constant state of hyper-vigilance. Despite the substantial monetary incentives and the prospect of pardons tempting some to betray their compatriots, the notion of 'dobbing' was generally reviled in Australian society. To be an informant was to be considered the lowest of the low, a traitor to be shunned and often targeted for retribution.
Contrary to the American 'Wild West' experience, where bounty hunters played a crucial role in law enforcement, Australia did not encourage this practice. The task of apprehending criminals was squarely the responsibility of the constabulary. That said, local settlers, motivated more by self-preservation than the potential rewards, did occasionally take matters into their own hands. The strategy of leveraging the inherent fear and desperation of apprehended suspects to turn them into informants was a common police tactic. The promise of a significant reward portion or legal leniency often successfully swayed detainees to cooperate. In some cases, these turned informants would infiltrate the bushrangers' hideouts or even participate directly in their capture. A key example is Daniel Charters, who played a critical role in the apprehension of Bow, Fordyce, Manns and Maguire following the Eugowra gold robbery of 1862. For his cooperation, Charters was rewarded with £150 and a pardon, despite his attempts to shield Hall and O'Meally from implication in the robbery.
To ensure their continued cooperation and safety, the identities of these informants were guarded with utmost secrecy by the police. However, these protective measures weren't always successful, and leaks did occur.
For instance, an article in the 'Empire' newspaper from April 26th, 1863, cited an unnamed source to reveal the presence of an informant within a mounted police patrol in the Burrangong district. This unfortunate revelation essentially placed the bushrangers on high alert, and if an informant was found among their ranks, the consequences could be brutally fatal. It was a complex web of suspicion, deceit, and survival that characterised the environment in which Ben Hall and his gang operated. Struggling to stay a step ahead of the authorities, the threat of betrayal became another challenge that they had to navigate in their perilous life on the Queens roads. Empire correspondent:
We understand the police authorities are confident that an expedition now out searching the haunts of these ruffians will return with some of them in safe custody. A person familiar with Gardiner and his mates in criminal acts as a guide, and the police are commanded by one of the most efficient officers in the force.
Lingering in Bathurst Gaol, Herring faced charges of fraud and suspicions regarding his involvement in the infamous Eugowra gold heist of June 1862. His criminal dossier was extensive, with a series of alleged offenses including false information, highway robbery, theft, and obtaining money under false pretenses. However, despite these numerous accusations, Herring often managed to escape conviction, leading to numerous discharges.On the cusp of his unexpected recruitment into the NSW police force, Herring, as Zahn, made a bold statement regarding the Eugowra affair, stating:
If he was lagged, he would "come it," and take some more with him as companions to Cockatoo, and that he would implicate people upon whom at the present time no suspicion rests.
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| Herring with John Peisley 1861. NSW Police Gazette. |
Seemingly overnight, Zahn transitioned from a prisoner to a police trooper. In his initial ventures in this new role, he successfully apprehended one Henry Gibson, a known associate of Hall, who had previously claimed to be Hall's overseer on Sandy Creek. Notably, Zahn's diligent efforts nearly resulted in the capture of John Gilbert, Ben Hall, and John O'Meally in April 1863. Zahn was described as; 36 yrs old 5 ft 4 in tall light brown hair Hazel eyes thin pale face sallow complexion rather long sharp nose mole under right eye dresses smartly.
Note: Zahn/Burgess/Herring would be eventually dismissed from the police for stealing a valuable pistol from Captain Battye, the apple doesn't fall very far from the tree. There is evidence that Herring/Zahn escaped from Pentridge in 1851 with Gardiner. See Gardiner page.
Therefore, in April 1863, Zahn—a former prisoner who had rapidly transitioned into a police trooper—joined detectives Coward and Townly, along with an Aboriginal tracker, on a patrol near Kangee Station in New South Wales. While galloping down the ranges, the officers spotted four mounted bushrangers riding toward the station.
Therefore, in April 1863, Zahn—a former prisoner who had rapidly transitioned into a police trooper—joined detectives Coward and Townly, along with an Aboriginal tracker, on a patrol near Kangee Station in New South Wales. While galloping down the ranges, the officers spotted four mounted bushrangers riding toward the station.Among the gang was Henry Gibson (alias "Parker"), a close associate of outlaws Ben Hall and John Gilbert. Gibson had previously lived at Hall's home until its destruction, and he was currently wanted by Victorian police after fleeing the Ovens River Goldfields.
Spotting the patrol, the gang spurred their horses into a full gallop. A high-speed pursuit ensued across the rugged terrain.
Gibson was found in the bush, in company with Gilbert, Ben Hall, and others, and when he saw the police, he, with the others, galloped off and was pursued. After going a considerable distance, the police succeeded in capturing him. He was armed, and could not give any satisfactory account of himself.
As the outlaws fled, John Gilbert threw back his poncho, turned in his saddle, and fired his carbine over his shoulder at the oncoming troopers. Unfazed, Zahn taunted him, shouting, "Gilbert, you wretch, you wouldn't hit a haystack!" Gilbert shot back with a threat—"Your goose is cooked"—as Zahn continued trying to provoke the men into stopping.
While Hall, Gilbert, and Lowry managed to outrun the winded police horses and escape into the ranges, Gibson tried taking a shortcut and found himself trapped against a heavy fence line. Hemmed in by Coward and the patrol, Gibson surrendered his weapon without further resistance.
Upon searching their camp, troopers matched the nail prints on Gibson's boots to footmarks left in the soft soil. When questioned by Detective Coward, Gibson refused to identify his companions, adhering to the outlaw code of silence and merely claiming he was heading home to the Weddin Mountains.
Local Reaction: News of the arrest triggered intense excitement in Yass and Marengo.
Media Blunder: Eager to break the story, a local correspondent for the Yass Courier prematurely reported that the captured 25-year-old bushranger was none other than the notorious Ben Hall himself—a rumor quickly dispelled once the prisoner's true identity was confirmed.
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| Mr Percy Scarr. c. 1905. |
The substance of the evidence was to the effect that the prisoner, with three other men, two of whom had firearms, with a woman and child, called at one of the out-stations of Mr Broughton, near Marengo, on the above day, and that the party ordered breakfast to be got ready for them, which was accordingly prepared - that they had breakfast, and remained about an hour and a half, and that they had ordered Scarr, who came up to the station to inquire of the party in charge if they were "sticking up" the place to get off his horse and join them, which he did; that the men entered into conversation with him, asked him if he was a good cook, or if he could track, both of which question he answered in the negative, and finally wound up by inviting him to join them by a nobbler, after which they departed.
However, Mr Scarr's evidence gave a revealing insight into Ben Hall's movements between the 14th and 28th of March, 1863. This information was consistent with a series of telegrams sent by Sir Frederick Pottinger to the Inspector-General regarding Hall's activities and Constable Hollister's diary account from the 14th of March. Pottinger had believed that Elen Maguire was the woman accompanying Ben Hall, but Scarr's testimony highlighted that Hall was in the company of a woman and a child, who were most likely Susan Prior and their daughter Mary. During this period, Elen Maguire was a mother to two children, aged five and two, and remained married to John Maguire and gave birth to another child in 1867. Sadly the child died . The other men confirmed to have been present were John Gilbert, John O'Meally and Gibson.
Meanwhile, as Gibson's court appearance unfolded, a tragedy was taking place in Forbes that would involve Elen Maguire, Bridget Hall, their stepmother Sarah Walsh nee Harpur. The tragedy was the serious illness of Elen's and Bridget's younger brother, 'The Warrigal', John Walsh, who was lying on his deathbed at 'The White Hart Inn', a hotel owned by John Wilson and managed by Hall's brother-in-law, John Maguire. Young 'Warrigal' had contracted Gaol Fever while being held in custody for his associations with Frank Gardiner. Sir Frederick Pottinger had persistently pushed for 'Warrigal' to be remanded, resulting in him being regularly presented in court. S.M.H 26th August 1862;
However, Mr Scarr's evidence gave a revealing insight into Ben Hall's movements between the 14th and 28th of March, 1863. This information was consistent with a series of telegrams sent by Sir Frederick Pottinger to the Inspector-General regarding Hall's activities and Constable Hollister's diary account from the 14th of March. Pottinger had believed that Elen Maguire was the woman accompanying Ben Hall, but Scarr's testimony highlighted that Hall was in the company of a woman and a child, who were most likely Susan Prior and their daughter Mary. During this period, Elen Maguire was a mother to two children, aged five and two, and remained married to John Maguire and gave birth to another child in 1867. Sadly the child died . The other men confirmed to have been present were John Gilbert, John O'Meally and Gibson.
Meanwhile, as Gibson's court appearance unfolded, a tragedy was taking place in Forbes that would involve Elen Maguire, Bridget Hall, their stepmother Sarah Walsh nee Harpur. The tragedy was the serious illness of Elen's and Bridget's younger brother, 'The Warrigal', John Walsh, who was lying on his deathbed at 'The White Hart Inn', a hotel owned by John Wilson and managed by Hall's brother-in-law, John Maguire. Young 'Warrigal' had contracted Gaol Fever while being held in custody for his associations with Frank Gardiner. Sir Frederick Pottinger had persistently pushed for 'Warrigal' to be remanded, resulting in him being regularly presented in court. S.M.H 26th August 1862;
FORBES POLICE COURT- On the 19th instant, the young lad John Walsh, brought up on suspicion of being a mate of the bushranger Gardiner, was further remanded for three days.
The tragic death of 'Warrigal', a mere 17 years old, deeply affected Ben Hall. The young man had spent the last months of his life in deplorable conditions, only to be moved to the hotel as his life ebbed away. He died surrounded by his sisters and stepmother, other than Katherine who was in Queensland, their grief compounded by the harsh reality of his final days. His painful demise was reported in the 'Lachlan Observer' on March 23, 1863, bringing yet another personal blow to Ben Hall. This was a young man he had known well, who was part of his extended family, and whose death underscored the stark, unforgiving world in which they were all entangled.
An inquiry was held on Monday afternoon, at two o'clock, at the White Hart Inn, Rankin street, touching the death of John Walsh, late prisoner in the gaol. There were present Commissioner Grenfell, Esq., J. P., Dr J. J. Connell. Drs. Flatan and Nutt, and senior sergeant Rush. Senior sergeant Rush explained that the lad Walsh was lately a prisoner under his charge, and that in consequence of having been taken ill, Dr. J. J. Connell had been called in to attend him, which he did for about a week at the gaol, and that he treated him for colonial fever. The lad got worse, and senior sergeant Rush then had him removed by his mother, Mrs, Walsh, to the White Hart Inn, when Dr. Flatan and Nutt were called in, and these gentlemen pronounced the lad to have been suffering from gaol fever in the first instance, which at the time they were called had resolved itself into a violent congestion of the brain. Vigorous and prompt measures were at once adopted, and it was found necessary to open both temporal arteries, and the jugular vein, in order to relieve the congestion. In spite of every care, however, the boy gradually sank under the disease, till death put an end to his sufferings. The result of the inquiry was the finding that "the said John Walsh had died of the effects of gaol fever.⁸⁸
Note: On the Warrigal's death certificate, it is recorded his mother is as Julia Walsh, his step-mother was Sarah Walsh, who was previously married to Joseph Harpur in 1814, who passed away. Sarah married John Walsh in 1847. She was also the mother of NSW poet Charles Harpur and NSW Parliamentarian Josiah Harpur, the member for Patrick Plains and Sir Frederick Pottinger's constant antagonist. The nickname of Warrigal stands for 'wild or untamed horse' or 'Dingo.' His birth date is reputedly November 1845.
Soon after Walsh's death, this appeared in the newspaper:
Meanwhile, the legal saga involving Henry Gibson, despite strong evidence of his ties with Ben Hall, Gilbert, and others, took an unexpected turn. On May 17, 1863, the NSW Attorney General, John Hargraves, decided to drop the case against Gibson, citing doubts about securing a conviction. However, Gibson’s freedom was short-lived; he was quickly re-arrested by Sir Frederick Pottinger and taken to Forbes to face charges on other related accusations. This swift action underscored the police's unyielding commitment to justice and highlighted the complex web of criminality linked to the infamous bushrangers. ‘The Sydney Morning Herald’, Tuesday 2nd June 1863:
Warrigal's' untimely demise was not only a personal blow for Ben Hall but also for the broader group of men connected to him, through marriage. This included John Maguire, John Brown, Dan Charters, and Bill Hall, who were all held in remand at Forbes, following the escort robbery. These men, who knew 'Warrigal' for most of his brief life, his loss was keenly felt across this tight-knit, interconnected group. They were bound by more than just their criminal activities; they were a makeshift family, forged through shared experiences and trials. The death of one of their own underscored the harsh realities of their chosen path.
A lad named John Walsh, who was apprehended at the time of an unsuccessful attempt to catch Gardiner, has lately died in the gaol at Forbes under rather peculiar circumstances. The verdict returned-"Died of gaol fever"-does not give public satisfaction. Application for a special commission of inquiry is talked of.⁸⁹
The death of young John Walsh, known as 'Warrigal,' left a sorrowful and unnoticed mark on history. His premature passing drew minimal attention and was quickly forgotten by the media, his demise fading from public consciousness as rapidly as it had appeared. John's body was buried in an unmarked or lost grave in Forbes Cemetery, marking the end of a life caught too early in the violent chaos of bushranging.
Despite his historical obscurity, local memory and dedicated efforts have sought to amend this neglect. Thanks to initiatives by the Forbes Historical Society and other dedicated groups, a memorial plaque has been placed in Forbes Cemetery. While it may not indicate his exact burial site, the plaque serves as a poignant reminder of his brief and tragic life, symbolising a young man entangled in the lawless era of his time.
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| John Fletcher Hargraves Attorney-General 2nd April 1860-31st July 1863 b. 1815 - d. 1885. NSW Parliament. |
The supposed notorious bushranger, Henry Gibson, alias "Parker," against whom a charge of "suspicion of highway robbery" had been preferred by detective Coward on the 8th of April, and also a further charge of attacking (in company with others) a station near Marengo on the 26th March last, belonging to a Mr Broughton, on which latter occasion it appeared by the evidence that the supposed bushranging party in question had simply demanded breakfast, which had been accordingly prepared for them by the inmates at the hut, when they left, bidding each other "good day" - and who had been committed from this place for trial at the next Goulburn Circuit Court on both of the supposed serious offences, the full particulars of which appeared in your several issues of the 17th and 27th April - suddenly made his appearance in the town in propria persona, to the no small astonishment of many persons. I have been given to understand that the Attorney-General had directed his discharge, not, however, without good grounds for so doing, as on reading over the depositions there was nothing upon which he could file a bill either this step or an acquittal could alone have been anticipated, and no doubt a very proper course had been taken by the Attorney-General in adopting the former alternative. However unfortunately for Gibson, the presence of Sir Frederick Pottinger here had no very great advantage in his favour, in as much as he was speedily deprived of the sweets of liberty before he had enjoyed many hours of fresh air, having been arrested on a warrant issued by the police magistrate, and brought before him on Tuesday, charged with "having on or about the month of March, and divers other occasions, harboured, aided and assisted certain notorious bushrangers, to wit, Johnny Gilbert, Johnny O'Meally, and Ben Hall, contrary to the statute." Sir Frederick Pottinger, who sat on the bench, and not only acted in the capacity of a prosecutor but appeared in the witness-box against the prisoner, to prove that he knew the prisoner before the court, had frequently seen him at Ben Hall's house and had tracked him to a place where he was in company with Mrs MaGuire (supposed to be the wife of another notorious bushranger), urged that he might be remanded to Forbes, where there was a witness who would prove that he was actually in company with the before mentioned notorious characters. Mr Prendergast, who appeared for the prisoner, vainly endeavoured to show that there was no ground for the prisoner's arrest, that the warrant was informal, because no specific charge was laid against the prisoner, and neither time nor place alluded to. As a matter of course the prisoner was remanded to Forbes in order that there might be a charge with a specific offence proved against him.
Start tomorrow morning via Cowra for the Fish River to co-operate with the southern police, both Captain Zouch and myself having been informed from distinct sources that Gardiner, Gilbert, John O'Mealy, and Ben Hall are there abouts: the three latter are, I believe, in that district, the former I still think is out of the colony. My movements will of course depend upon circumstances; I cannot therefore report thereon now; expect to be absent some fourteen (14) days. Have also sent four (4) troopers and trackers to scour Wheogo, &c Patrol detachments and other stations still in status quo. Sanderson returned yesterday. By-the-bye I hear Captain Zouch has applied for Sanderson to be transferred to Young; I hope you will not consent, as Sanderson a presence here till matters are quite settled is indispensable, Sergeant Rush still very ill, also detective M'Glone, our only detective. Swainson much wanted back.⁹⁰
Captain Battye was entertained at a public dinner last Thursday evening and presented with an address signed by all the principal residents of the district. His removal has caused much regret and dissatisfaction. No officer in the force knows the haunts of Gardiner's gang better, and now when proper force is sent here, the very man who should command them is removed. If he had the force now stationed here six months ago, poor Cirkel would not have fallen a victim to the bullet of the robber, nor the colony have been disgraced by the deplorable revelations made at each circuit court. The necessity for a "special commission" would never have arisen; humanity would not have been shocked by the drivellings of a judge, nor the venomous spawn of a "Constant Reader" would never have been spewed forth through the columns of a mercenary newspaper; many a once happy home would not now be in mourning and affliction for the child who had brought down his parents grey hairs with sorrow to the grave.
Bushranging is quiet just now, the spasmodic efforts made by the police to capture the members of the firm of Hall and Co. making it necessary for those pests to keep close to their haunts. Why could not all this great parade of force have been made any time within the last eighteen months, when this ruffian roamed at will throughout the district? Now, when he has ruined many young men by his vicious example, robbed and murdered people in their homes-captured an Inspector of police, after an encounter, a la Pottinger-and stuck up police stations, our paternal, or rather "maternal Government," sends up the "hero of the colonial Bull Run," and a Sydney detective to try to capture him. Well, may he laugh at their efforts? He can now rest easy for the remainder of his days, and while comfortably doing his "pipe," cogitate over the magistrate's "Advice to a Bushranger." I would suggest that Mr Cowper send our worthy P.M. and "The Hero of Bull Bun" to negotiate terms of capitulation or offer him the Inspector Generalship of police-vice McLerie, appointed to the "Fort Bourke Noodles.
However, this lull would be temporary.
Continued on Ben Hall Pt 2
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