Leaving Gardiner for a time (see Part 22), we must turn aside to the history and exploits of the man whom Hosie declared to be the chief instrument in his rescue from custody.
JACK PIESLEY.
From the very first of Gardiner's road adventures in the West he was associated in the police and press reports with another notorious criminal named Piesley, who was also an old Cockatoo hand.* Piesley had been sent to Cockatoo for cattle stealing, or a similar offence, and had either escaped before his sentence had expired or been released on a ticket-of-leave, as was Gardiner. He returned to where his parents lived, in the Abercrombie district. During the years 1860-1 many robberies (mostly of travellers) were perpetrated on the roads in the Goulburn, Abercrombie, Cowra, and Lambing Flat districts, and Piesley was generally credited with them. Sometimes the "sticking-up" was done by one man, at other times by three or four, but whether singly or in company, the bushrangers always succeeded in "clearing out" their victims without meeting violent resistance, as well as in keeping out of sight of the police. The day after one robbery they would be heard of as having committed another scores of miles away, perhaps in an altogether different district.
[* The term applied to those who had served a penal sentence on the island near Sydney which is now called Biloela.]
As I have already stated, at the time of the encounter between Gardiner and the two policemen at Fogg's, the general impression was that Piesley was not far off, and that Gardiner had simply left him at a friend's house while he went to have a yarn with his old partner, so that Hosie's story found ready acceptance. But Piesley always denied that he had anything to do with rescuing Gardiner, and stoutly maintained that Fogg had bought his release by giving Hosie £50 to let him go. So indignant was the bushranger at the charge made against him that from his hiding place in the Abercrombie he wrote a letter to the "Bathurst Free Press", emphatically denying it. This was dated "Fish River, September 4th, 1861", and ran as follows:–
To the Editor of the "Bathurst Free Press and Mining Journal."
Sir,—You will no doubt be surprised to receive a note from the (now by all account) noted Piesley; but, sir, through your valuable paper I must make it known that, if it be my lot to be taken, whether dead or alive, I will never be tried for the rescue of Gardiner, in the light in which it is represented; nor did I ever fire at Trooper Hosie. And such I wish to be known, that it is in my power to prove what I here assert, and that beyond a doubt. I am no doubt a desperado in the eyes of the law, but never, in no instance, did I ever use violence, nor did I ever use rudeness to any of the fair sex, and I must certainly be the Invisible Prince to commit one-tenth of what is laid to my charge. And, sir, I beg to state that it is through persons in high positions that I now make this assertion, and I trust I may never have to allude to it again. I love my native hills, I love freedom and detest cruelty to man or beast. Trusting you will publish this, my bold letter no doubt, but you can be assured it comes from the real John Piesley, and not any of his many representatives.
I am, Mr. Editor, your much harassed writer, JOHN PIESLEY.
Piesley felt so deeply on the subject that he reiterated his denial when on the scaffold in Bathurst Gaol in April of the following year, while the hangman was standing by.
In the latter part of 1860 the mail coach was being leisurely driven on its way from Gundagai to Yass, having only the mail bags and a few parcels "on board", when the driver was startled out of a deep reverie by hearing a sudden and peremptory demand to "pull up." He obeyed with alacrity, and on looking in the direction from which the voice had proceeded saw two mounted men, with firearms presented towards him. One of them went to the heads of the horses while the other called upon the driver to dismount. This order he also obeyed, and was promptly covered by a pistol, while the other robber lifted the bags out of the coach and strapped them on his horse. Having secured all they wanted—the bag containing newspapers was cast aside—the bushrangers told the driver he could resume his seat, and while he was gathering up the reins they rode off with their booty. The description of one of them answered to that of Piesley, and the impression that he and a mate of his were the robbers was strengthened when the driver described the horses they were riding as "upstanding bays." As soon as the local police were informed, they started out in pursuit, but the robbers had vanished from the locality, carrying the bags and their contents away with them.
A few days afterwards the two men on bay horses were heard of as "keeping the road" between Lambing Flat (or Burrangong) and Cowra, which at that time was alive with travellers on their road to the "diggings" or returning. For a couple of days they robbed all and sundry who chanced to come within hailing distance. Even bullock drivers were "bailed up" and made to hand over whatever money they had. One of these drivers, who was returning from the Flat with his empty dray after having delivered a load of goods in that then thriving canvas township, was eased of all his earnings most unceremoniously. Carrying in those days was a lucrative employment, and not a few cases could be cited of men, now wealthy, who laid the foundation of their fortunes as hard-working teamsters. This man had £47 in his pocket, every penny of which he was compelled to hand over. Leaving him to his sorrowful meditations the robbers passed on, and next came across a company of six men bound for the diggings with swags on their backs. Piesley stood guard over them with levelled revolver while his companion made each in turn empty his pockets, getting about £10 between them. On the same day a solitary straggler, the whole of whose wealth in money consisted of eighteen pence, was also stopped, and the robbers took from him every copper. Another teamster returning with his empty dray to Bathurst had a narrow escape of losing his money. He had earned between £40 and £50 on the trip, and this he wrapped up in the folds of an old comforter which he wore round his neck. When the bushrangers demanded his money he handed over the loose silver which he had in his pockets, protesting that he had no other money, and they did not dream of searching the greasy looking woollen wrap which protected his throat.
One traveller, who was on his road home to the Bathurst district, escaped their clutches, and made the best use of his escape. Meeting the coach, which was crowded with passengers for the Flat, he gave warning that bushrangers were about, and the passengers at once set about secreting their money and valuables under the seats and in other parts of the vehicle; but they were not molested on that journey—perhaps because in number they looked too formidable. For four days the two men pursued their work of "bailing up", and then the police arrived upon the scene—as usual, just a day too late.*
[* At this time only one constable and two troopers were stationed at Cowra, and had all their work cut out for them in a locality about which gathered some of the worst classes of the colonies on their way to the goldfields.]
They now made back by the old Lachlan road for the Abercrombie, where one of them at least had relatives, sympathisers and friends. On their way they called at Cheshire's Inn, near Caloola, for drinks, and at night revisited the house and bailed up the inmates, while one of the party searched the premises in quest of spoil. From some diggers they took two revolvers; from a Mr. Paton, who had £17, but managed to drop £15 of the amount whilst being led from the kitchen to the front part of the house, they got a poor £2. Another person was there who, it had been reported, wanted a wife. The robbers took two shillings from him, but learning who it was, they gave him his money back again, saying that as he wanted a wife they would not deprive him of the means of obtaining one. He said he did not want a wife, but he would like a piece of the liquorice that had been taken from one of the party; the rogue who had possession of the article referred to, immediately cut it up and distributed it among the company. The robbers then shouted for all hands, paid the score, and took their departure. There were no police in the locality to disturb the roadmen, and some days elapsed before the police in the Tuena district heard that Piesley was again in the neighbourhood.
But while the news was travelling the bushrangers were travelling also. They had cut across country to the southern side and caused a sensation by "sticking up" the mail between Gundagai and Yass, choosing a dark night for the purpose. They had compelled the driver to dismount from his seat and stand at the roadside with the passengers, and were in the act of ripping open the mail bags to search for money letters, when some police rode up, on their way to the station at Yass. As soon as the bushrangers discovered that the horsemen approaching were not ordinary travellers they abandoned their spoil, mounted their horses, and beat a hasty retreat into the bush. The astonished troopers at once took in the position and gave chase, but police horses never yet have proved a match for bushrangers' steeds, and the robbers got clean away.
Several highway robberies were committed on the Goulburn road during the next few days, and then the men appear to have made back for a "spell" among the Abercrombie Ranges. They certainly needed a spell, if they were concerned in all the robberies about this time which the public put down to them. Here is one, for instance:–
Between three and four o'clock, two men named Charles Blatner and George Jones, when about two miles on this side of Paddy's River, on their way to Goulburn, were set upon by three men armed with revolvers and en masque. The tallest of the three called out to the travellers "to stand and strip", and forced them to take off every stitch of clothing. The highwaymen then proceeded to possess themselves of the money of their victims, amounting to about £19, being £12 in notes, £5 in gold, and the rest in silver. The robbers being apparently satisfied with their booty, returned the travellers 15s and decamped. The highwaymen are thus described by Blatner and Jones:– One was about 5 ft. 10 in. in height, with blue shirt, moleskin trousers, cabbage tree hat, and Napoleon boots; the other two were about 5 ft. 8 in., and wore the same dress, viz., blue shirt, moleskin trousers, and Californian hat.
Within a fortnight the "Bathurst Free Press" contained the following paragraph:–
Robberies have now become of such every day occurrence that we are surprised when a day passes without hearing that something fresh has occurred. On Friday last as two Chinamen were proceeding from this place to the Abercrombie they were stopped by three mounted highwaymen who robbed them of £12 in gold, two horses, two new saddles, and a new coat. On the following day as a party of diggers and their wives were coming from the Lambing Flat, they were stopped near the Sheet of Bark by three armed men, who placed the whole of them under tribute, and then compelled one poor fellow to strip, and took three £10 notes from him which he was taking to his wife and family. A man named James Newsome was sentenced to six months' imprisonment for a robbery at Marooney's inn. On Sunday last as a number of Chinamen were proceeding from the Abercrombie to the Lambing Flat, four mounted men attempted to stop them for the purpose of robbing them; but the Chinamen fired at them and the rogues made a hasty retreat. We also heard of several other robberies, but have not as yet heard the particulars, and although our constables are always on the alert they have not as yet been able to apprehend any of these bushrangers, and we are much afraid that it will require some determined steps to be taken by the Government before they are captured.
A few days afterwards the following appeared in the same paper:–
On the night of Friday, the 23rd inst., Mr. Charles Bell, storekeeper at Back Creek, received an unpleasant and unceremonious visit from two of the bushranging fraternity. It appears that Mr. Bell is in the habit of purchasing small parcels of gold from the diggers in that locality, and he visits Bathurst weekly for the purpose of turning his purchase into cash. On the day named Mr. Bell had been into Bathurst, and it is supposed that the villains knew he had brought home some money. About 10 o'clock p.m. just before retiring to bed. Bell went to the door where he was met by two men, disguised by wearing red comforters around their throats and faces, and each of them armed with a revolver. The men presented the revolvers at Bell's head, and marched him into one of the rooms, where he was ordered to stay while they went into the bedroom to search for the money. Mrs. Bell was in bed, but they told her not to be alarmed as they would not injure her. Having found the cash box in one of the drawers they at once decamped with their booty. Early the next morning Mr. Bell proceeded to Mr. Keightley's at Pye's station, and obtained the assistance of two troopers, who returned with him to Back Creek. Close by were discovered the tracks of three horses, which tracks were followed to a barn of Mr. E. Golsby's, where the cashbox and certain promissory notes, cheques, and receipts for cash were found. It is evident that the villains having obtained the cash box went to this barn and struck a light (some matches were found on the spot) and divided the spoil, leaving the box and papers which were of no use to them to be reclaimed by Mr. Bell. Three men who had been working for Mr. Golsby for a short period were not to be found next day, nor have they been since. The troopers endeavored to get on the tracks of the villains, but we believe they have not succeeded in capturing them.
About this time a proclamation appeared in the "Government Gazette", offering a reward of £100 to any person who should within six months from that date give such information as would lead to the apprehension and conviction of Piesley; and also a reward of £50 for the apprehension and conviction of the other offenders associated with him.
All this had happened before Gardiner's rescue from Hosie, and Gardiner had been already named as one of Piesley's companions. That they were at this time acting in concert there can be no doubt, although they were not always together.
Shortly after the publication of the Government proclamation offering a reward, Piesley and his mates again shifted quarters—from the Abercrombie to Carcoar, from Carcoar to Cowra, from Cowra to Lambing Flat. They devoted one day to the road between Carcoar and Bathurst, and stopped and robbed seven or eight persons on a lonely part of that highway. Mr. Dooley, a butcher of Carcoar, had a narrow escape from something worse than robbery. He was on his way to Bathurst to purchase cattle, and for this purpose carried with him a considerable amount of money. When nearing the top of "The Mount" he was accosted by three men, one of whom asked him for some tobacco, and while he was in the act of taking some out of his pocket, the men revealed themselves to him in their true character and demanded his money. But Dooley could not see any virtue in this method of dealing, and without a word put spurs to his horse—he was fortunately well mounted—and galloped down the hill. The men pursued, one of them firing at the fugitive to check his flight. The bullet passed through the horse's ear, but Dooley escaped unhurt, outdistanced his pursuers, and kept up speed until he reached Bathurst, when he at once gave information to the police, who rode "up the hill and down again", with the usual result. While the troopers were scouring the bush in the locality where the robberies had taken place, Piesley, Gardiner, and the unknown were speeding towards Cowra, and the Bathurst newspaper of the day was saying—"Truly we live in troublous times, and unless some steps are taken to arrest these daylight marauders, and put a stop to their proceedings, it will very shortly be unsafe to travel any distance from the town."
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| Western and Southern Districts of New South Wales |
The "daylight marauders" were not arrested, however, neither was a stop put to their proceedings. A few days afterwards the Cowra correspondent of the same paper under a heading "sticking-up", said:–
I have again to record several exploits of this nature that have taken place between Cowra and Burrangong. One occurred at Bang Bang. Three men—two of whom were mounted, the third on foot—stuck up a poor fellow, robbing him of his blankets, tea, sugar, and 36s, all the money he had. The same day another man was served the same way, and £33 taken from him. A few days afterwards, a hut near Bland was attempted. One or two men were in this hut, when the door was burst open, and the usual salutation took place—"Stand! or your brains", &c., &c. One of the men in the hut sang out "Take care. Gardiner, what you are about, for I am armed!" "So am I", was the reply, a shot being fired on the instant. The fire was returned, and the assailant was observed to reel back with a stagger as if shot, and shortly after made his escape without further molestation to the brave inmates of the hut; so you see, as I said in my last communication, the folks out that way (Bland) are not to be trifled with. Our six police left Cowra last Monday, apparently with sealed orders; when last seen they were in company out to the north-west, Cowra astern, bearing south-east by compass; weather squally; men and horses somewhat down in the mouth. Signals were exchanged with a stockman bound to Cowra, and the convoy spoke the Condobolin mailman, two days out all well.
The bushrangers now appear to have made a retreat in the Weddin Mountain—a place which subsequently became famous as the hiding place of the escort robbers, and the resort of Gardiner, Gilbert, Hall & Co., whose exploits will be fully narrated in chapters to follow. Here a fourth man joined the gang, probably Johnny Gilbert; and it was from this point that the full tide of bushranging set in. One morning, shortly after the affair at Bang Bang, a messenger rode into Cowra and reported that the bushrangers were out in the neighbourhood of Bogolong and Wheogo, there being four in the gang. They had bailed up and robbed McGuire's station at the Pinnacle, near Forbes, taking all the money they could find, stripping the men about the place, and dragging them in that condition two miles into the bush. Another man they stopped on the road, stripping him also, and leaving him in that state.
After this, Piesley separated himself from the gang and started to revisit his old haunts at the Abercrombie; but he could not resist the temptation, even when alone, to indulge his freebooting inclinations. Single handed he stopped the Lambing Flat coach early one morning, shortly after it had started from Cowra. There were eight passengers in the coach, three of whom were females, and about three miles from Cowra on the Carcoar side, Piesley, mounted and armed, and with a piece of crape over his face, rode up to the coach, and presenting a revolver, called upon the coachman to pull up or he would make him. The highwayman immediately jumped off his horse, which he left standing in the road, saying—"You see he is used to this sort of work"; he then called upon Mr. Minehan, of Bathurst, who was one of the passengers, to leave the coach and deliver up his cash. Mr. M. fortunately dropped his money in the coach, and the robber found only a few shillings upon his person, which were speedily appropriated. The other passengers were invited to follow the example of Mr. Minehan, and were ordered to "shell out", which they did, to the amount of about £15 between them. The robber (lid not attempt in any way to interfere with the females, but with his revolver presented and with his finger upon the trigger, told the male passengers they were to deliver up all they had, or if he found anything upon them afterwards he would make it a caution to them. He ordered Mr. Ford, one of the coach proprietors who was present at the time, to deliver up the mail bags, which order being complied with, he asked Mr. T. Cummings, another passenger, for a knife, with which he soon opened the bags, and selecting such letters as he deemed valuable he left the rest to be gathered up by the coachman whilst he made his escape. One of the parcels thrown aside from the mail bag as useless contained a large sum of money addressed to a gentleman in Carcoar, and several of the passengers managed effectually to secrete their cash and valuables either in the coach or upon their own persons. The highwayman gave back some silver to some of the passengers to assist them in paying their expenses on the road.
PIESLEY'S CROWNING INFAMY - THE COWARDLY MURDER OF BENYON.
"The passengers had no arms," said Taylor, the coachman, afterwards, "and did not make any resistance; one of the passengers said that it would have been very easy for them to disarm him, but they did not attempt it." The police superintendent, who was at Carcoar, with all the available troopers and constables, started out to catch the robber, but they had their trouble for nothing. Piesley had made his way past Carcoar and was again among the Abercrombie Ranges, where he evidently intended to remain quiet for a time.
And now we come to the crowning act of this wretched man's life.
On 27th December, 1861, after having spent Christmas with some relatives in the locality, Piesley picked up an old acquaintance named James Wilson, who kept a store on the Abercrombie, and went with him to McGuinness' public house at Bigga, where they remained all night drinking pretty freely. Next morning, with a bottle of liquor each, Piesley and Wilson started away to a farm kept by a man named Benyon, at no great distance from Bigga. Between 9 and 10 o'clock in the morning, when the men at the farm were busy with the harvest, they rode up to the house and asked for Benyon; Mrs. Benyon directed them to the barn, first supplying them with something to drink, and learning from Wilson that his companion—about whom she was curious, doubtless through seeing him carrying firearms—was a stranger in the district.
The whole party spent the morning amicably together, but about dinner time Piesley challenged Benyon to run, jump, or fight him for £10, and then tried to provoke him to fight. During dinner time he said, "I have a down on you, Benyon; when I was a kid, 17 years ago, you swopped a horse with me which was no good, but I am no kid now." This talk naturally led to a rough-and-tumble fight between the bushranger, Benyon, and Benyon's brother Stephen; and a little later in the afternoon Piesley was seen galloping off to the barn, where the Benyons had gone to work. In the skirmish which followed Stephen Benyon got a bullet in his arm, and the master of the house was shot through the throat and spine.
The strange part of the affair is that none of the men about the place attempted to arrest Piesley, although they saw that poor Benyon had received his death wound. The murderer stayed in the house for a couple of hours afterwards, "looking at Mr. Benyon," said the poor wife afterwards, "with a revolver in each hand." There were ten reapers on the farm, and not one stirred a finger against Piesley. His victim lingered for six days, much to the surprise of his medical attendant, and then died in great agony.
Meanwhile Piesley had disappeared from the locality, knowing the police would now pursue him with renewed vigour. And so they did, but all their watching and tracking was of no avail. He had "cleared out" of the district, and nothing was heard of him for a month. Then came the welcome news that he had been captured at Tarcutta, in the Wagga Wagga district, while making his way towards the border, with the intention of leaving the colony for good.
The following letter, written at the time by James Campbell, one of the parties concerned in the arrest, will show exactly how the capture was effected:– "On Wednesday night, 29th January, I was in bed reading, when Mr. McKenzie came into my room and asked me if I knew the man in the kitchen; I replied that I did not know him; Mr. McKenzie then said he thought the man was a bushranger, and would like to have him taken. I said I was no constable, on which Mr. McKenzie said he could act as a constable on his own premises, and that he thought the man was Piesley. As soon as I heard him say that it was Piesley, I got up and dressed myself, and went inside the house. In the passage between it and the kitchen, it was arranged how we were to take the man. Mr. Beveridge was to rush on to him, and I was to take the revolver from his hand; Mr. McKenzie was to stop inside the door with a revolver in case of danger. Mr. McKenzie told me he had seen a revolver with the man in the evening, stuck in the waistband of his trousers, but it turned out to be a pistol, capped. When we went into the kitchen, Piesley was having his tea, and a man was lying drunk beside him, nearer the door. Piesley caught hold of the man and shook him, and asked him if he was going to sleep all night, telling him to get something to eat and he would be all right; the man said 'Who is that?' when Piesley replied, 'It is me.' The man said 'He is a —— rogue', on which Piesley asked 'Who?' the man replied 'Why he who came in the evening with the bay horse.' Piesley replied, 'Is that it, you —— dog; would you come it?' The man then got up off the form and challenged Piesley to fight for a pound. I found out afterwards that the man had been at work for Mr. Beveridge. He pulled out eight shillings, on which Piesley said 'you —— dog, do you know how you came by that money? Did I not give you a pound this evening, and now you are going to turn on me; you would hang a man.' Mr. Beveridge heard some conversation between them in the evening, and we were in hopes that they would quarrel and fight. Had they done so, a good opportunity would have been afforded to take Piesley. I began to get tired while they were wrangling, and sat down on the form beside Piesley, thinking about the safest way to catch him. He had his left hand on the table, and was lifting the cup of tea to his mouth, when I put my two arms under his arms, and getting my hands together, at the back of his, bent his head downwards and cocked his arms out. Mr. McKenzie and Mr. Beveridge then rushed on him. I told them to take the revolver from him, and Mr. McKenzie put the handcuffs on him, and he was thus secured."
Piesley was now handed over to the police, brought under a strong escort by a long and wearisome road to Carcoar, where he was charged before the local magistrates with the murder of William Benyon, and by them committed for trial to the Bathurst Assize Court. The news of his arrest spread through the country like wildfire, and people assembled at different points where he was expected to pass, all anxious to see the man to whose charge so many outrages on the road had been laid, and who had been the associate of Gardiner.
He was tried on March 13th, 1862, and found guilty. On the scaffold, twelve days later, he tried to give his own account of the murder, asserting that they were all drunk together, and Benyon was the provoker of the whole quarrel. With reference to the charge which had been made against him, of being concerned in the rescue of Gardiner from the hand of the police, he called God to witness, that the charge was utterly groundless, as he was not near the spot on that occasion. He knew that Fogg had promised Hosie £50 if he would let Gardiner go free, and the money being made up, the sum of £50 10s was given by Fogg. Among the money paid to Hosie was a cheque for £2 10s, and that was the reason of his receiving 10s over the £50.
Sources:
- The Bushrangers (1915, April 27). The Farmer and Settler (Sydney, NSW : 1906 - 1955), p. 7.
- The Bushrangers (1915, April 30). The Farmer and Settler (Sydney, NSW : 1906 - 1955), p. 8.
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