Colonial era mail coach (State Library of Queensland) One hundred and fifty years ago, in 1867, an Ipswich man was sentenced to 25 years hard labour for a crime the newspapers of the day described “as extraordinary a case as probably holds a place in the annals of Australian crime.”
The crime, holding up a Cobb & Co coach between Ipswich and Brisbane, was notorious in itself – what made the case such an extraordinary one was the police trap.
On January 7, 1867 an armed bushranger held up the Ipswich-Brisbane mail coach. Newspapers at the time confirmed that the mail coach was also carrying ten Ipswich residents, “including a lady”, who had all boarded the coach at 6am that day “with one ‘Jack’ M'Kenzie handling the ribbons.”
The highway robbery took place about three kilometres this side of Oxley, at a spot then known as ‘The Blunder’, close to Oxley Creek. It was originally named ‘Maguyre’s Blunder’ after a Constable Maguyre became lost in the dense scrub, having to be rescued by a search party.
As the coach struggled up a rough hill at that spot a horseman was noticed riding along the road, swaying about in the saddle as if drunk. When the coach drew level he shouted at the driver to “pull up."
Instead, M'Kenzie whipped up his horses and tried to out-run the highwayman who wore a dark covering over his face, with eye-holes cut out. The bushranger drew a pistol from his belt, to which was attached a large sheath-knife, and fired at one of the leading horses, but did not hit it. The coach driver raced on and only when his horses were exhausted did he stop.
One passenger had a loaded revolver which he passed to M’Kenzie, who tried to use it but it misfired and the bushranger, now covering the passengers with his pistol, ordered them out and to throw down all the money they had with them. He then ordered M’Kenzie to turn the horses back to Ipswich, threatening the coachman that he would "put a bullet through him."
Dismounting, the highwayman gathered up the money, £10 it was said at trial, but did not bother to search the passengers. Had he done so he would found that one of them was Harry Hooper. The same Hooper who, with John Robinson, opened Tivoli Colliery, the first coal mine at Tivoli. Mr Hooper sold his stake in 1869, the year he was elected Mayor of Ipswich. After a spell as a farmer and grazier at ‘Melrose’ in the Gatton district, he returned to Ipswich where he partnered with a Mr. Ginn to establish general merchants Ginn and Hooper.
Hooper was taking “a considerable sum of money” to bank in Brisbane but managed to hide it in the coach along with his gold watch. Years later that watch was proudly worn every day by his son, C. W. Hooper, who became Mayor of Laidley.
It was revealed in court proceedings that the half of a bank note which Mr. Hooper tossed onto the ground was later mysteriously returned to him by mail.
The crime, holding up a Cobb & Co coach between Ipswich and Brisbane, was notorious in itself – what made the case such an extraordinary one was the police trap.
On January 7, 1867 an armed bushranger held up the Ipswich-Brisbane mail coach. Newspapers at the time confirmed that the mail coach was also carrying ten Ipswich residents, “including a lady”, who had all boarded the coach at 6am that day “with one ‘Jack’ M'Kenzie handling the ribbons.”
The highway robbery took place about three kilometres this side of Oxley, at a spot then known as ‘The Blunder’, close to Oxley Creek. It was originally named ‘Maguyre’s Blunder’ after a Constable Maguyre became lost in the dense scrub, having to be rescued by a search party.
As the coach struggled up a rough hill at that spot a horseman was noticed riding along the road, swaying about in the saddle as if drunk. When the coach drew level he shouted at the driver to “pull up."
Instead, M'Kenzie whipped up his horses and tried to out-run the highwayman who wore a dark covering over his face, with eye-holes cut out. The bushranger drew a pistol from his belt, to which was attached a large sheath-knife, and fired at one of the leading horses, but did not hit it. The coach driver raced on and only when his horses were exhausted did he stop.
One passenger had a loaded revolver which he passed to M’Kenzie, who tried to use it but it misfired and the bushranger, now covering the passengers with his pistol, ordered them out and to throw down all the money they had with them. He then ordered M’Kenzie to turn the horses back to Ipswich, threatening the coachman that he would "put a bullet through him."
Dismounting, the highwayman gathered up the money, £10 it was said at trial, but did not bother to search the passengers. Had he done so he would found that one of them was Harry Hooper. The same Hooper who, with John Robinson, opened Tivoli Colliery, the first coal mine at Tivoli. Mr Hooper sold his stake in 1869, the year he was elected Mayor of Ipswich. After a spell as a farmer and grazier at ‘Melrose’ in the Gatton district, he returned to Ipswich where he partnered with a Mr. Ginn to establish general merchants Ginn and Hooper.
Hooper was taking “a considerable sum of money” to bank in Brisbane but managed to hide it in the coach along with his gold watch. Years later that watch was proudly worn every day by his son, C. W. Hooper, who became Mayor of Laidley.
It was revealed in court proceedings that the half of a bank note which Mr. Hooper tossed onto the ground was later mysteriously returned to him by mail.
Brisbane Terrace, Goodna ca. 1883 (State Library of Queensland)
Instead of handing out the Goodna mailbag M’Kenzie threw down the Ipswich bag; the Goodna bag held a “considerable amount of hard cash”. The highwayman ripped the bag open with his sheath knife, emptying the contents on the ground before gathering it up again. He then rode off with the Ipswich mailbag, found by police four kilometres away.
Mr. W. D. Tamlyn, a well-known clerk working for Clarke, Hodgson and Co in Ipswich, was also a passenger – he testified that days before the robbery he sold a brace of pistols, identical with those found in the highwayman’s bag when he was arrested.
Hooper had recognised the bushrangers’ horse as that of Mr. J. J. Johnston, a storekeeper of Little Ipswich. He also noticed a patch of mud hiding the brand on the horse, which had been stolen from Mr. Johnston’s business only days before the robbery.
The evening after the robbery a local drinking in the Carriers' Arms in Little Ipswich, asked the publican, whom he knew well, if he recognised the horse tethered outside. The publican did - "That's 'Jack' Johnson's pony." The man then left, on the horse, going towards Toowoomba. The police heard of the incident, and were quickly on his trail.
The stolen horse was discovered near Seven-Mile Creek in a state showing it had been hard ridden; it was brought into town and placed in stables at the Ipswich police station. No trace, however, could be found of the highwayman, but the suspect, Bill Jenkins, who was seen riding the horse the day of the robbery, was missed from his usual haunts in Ipswich.
A few days later the horse was again stolen, this time from police stables.
“Captured, as it were, from under the noses of the local policemen!” announced the Queensland Times.
Mounted police scoured the country and found the charred remains of a horse in a lime kiln in the Upper Bundanba district (as Bundamba was then known), which, they concluded, were those of the missing animal. The body had evidently been consumed in the lime. The hair on a leg was similar to that of the stolen horse.
It later transpired that an old horse that had died had been cremated by the lime burners for sanitary reasons.
The discovery was widely circulated and a reward of £100 was offered for information of the whereabouts of the bushranger. The local police and public were convinced the horse had been stolen, killed and then cremated by friends of Jenkins to destroy the only reliable link in the chain of evidence.
But here the mystery needs some explaining: the head of the Criminal Department of the Brisbane police force was Sub-Inspector Lloyd who realised early on the suspect had friends who would help him and that the branded horse was an important link in the chain of evidence. He reckoned that if the suspect were convinced the ‘evidence’ had been destroyed he would emerge from hiding.
One of Inspector Lloyd’s smartest recruits was M. Burke, who later rose to the position of sub-inspector. Lloyd instructed Burke to go to Ipswich, steal the horse and bring it to Brisbane but not to inform the Ipswich police at all.
In an interview many years later Sub-Inspector Burke told a newspaper that when the scheme was explained to him he asked: "Suppose I'm caught, sir."
"Well, you'll be locked up or perhaps shot in trying to escape, but you must chance that," his boss reportedly replied.
Burke carried out his orders faithfully - the horse was ‘spirited away’ from the Ipswich police station and kept in a St Helena Island police paddock where it was recorded as part of a ‘Chinaman's intestate estate’.
As insurance against Burke accidentally saying something about his adventure he was sent to the most remote police station in the State, Barcoo.
Jenkins, hiding out on the NSW border, fell into the trap. On June 1, 1868, Bill Jenkins, alias John King, was seen in Brisbane Street, disguised by having a coloured handkerchief tied round his face, as if suffering from toothache.
“His cabbage-tree hat, Crimean shirt, breeches, and top-boots, and his commanding personality soon attracted attention as he paraded the street,” reported the Queensland Times. Three reputable men, including Mr Cattlin, the sheriff's bailiff in Ipswich, reported his presence.
Jenkins realised he had been recognised so ran off in the direction of Basin Pocket where he was eventually captured on Bremer Road by Constable William Gunn. Jenkins had intended to double round to Silkstone, where his horse and pack, containing the brace of pistols, were left in a paddock.
At Jenkins’ trial for highway robbery, Sub-Inspector Lloyd, to the surprise of the prisoner's friends and the Ipswich police, produced the ‘missing link’ - the ‘stolen and incinerated’ horse, alive and branded JJ on the near shoulder.
Jenkins was found guilty and sentenced to 25 years hard labour on August 17, 1868. He was no stranger to Brisbane prison – he had served two sentences there and, while awaiting trial for highway robbery, nearly escaped.
Mr. W. D. Tamlyn, a well-known clerk working for Clarke, Hodgson and Co in Ipswich, was also a passenger – he testified that days before the robbery he sold a brace of pistols, identical with those found in the highwayman’s bag when he was arrested.
Hooper had recognised the bushrangers’ horse as that of Mr. J. J. Johnston, a storekeeper of Little Ipswich. He also noticed a patch of mud hiding the brand on the horse, which had been stolen from Mr. Johnston’s business only days before the robbery.
The evening after the robbery a local drinking in the Carriers' Arms in Little Ipswich, asked the publican, whom he knew well, if he recognised the horse tethered outside. The publican did - "That's 'Jack' Johnson's pony." The man then left, on the horse, going towards Toowoomba. The police heard of the incident, and were quickly on his trail.
The stolen horse was discovered near Seven-Mile Creek in a state showing it had been hard ridden; it was brought into town and placed in stables at the Ipswich police station. No trace, however, could be found of the highwayman, but the suspect, Bill Jenkins, who was seen riding the horse the day of the robbery, was missed from his usual haunts in Ipswich.
A few days later the horse was again stolen, this time from police stables.
“Captured, as it were, from under the noses of the local policemen!” announced the Queensland Times.
Mounted police scoured the country and found the charred remains of a horse in a lime kiln in the Upper Bundanba district (as Bundamba was then known), which, they concluded, were those of the missing animal. The body had evidently been consumed in the lime. The hair on a leg was similar to that of the stolen horse.
It later transpired that an old horse that had died had been cremated by the lime burners for sanitary reasons.
The discovery was widely circulated and a reward of £100 was offered for information of the whereabouts of the bushranger. The local police and public were convinced the horse had been stolen, killed and then cremated by friends of Jenkins to destroy the only reliable link in the chain of evidence.
But here the mystery needs some explaining: the head of the Criminal Department of the Brisbane police force was Sub-Inspector Lloyd who realised early on the suspect had friends who would help him and that the branded horse was an important link in the chain of evidence. He reckoned that if the suspect were convinced the ‘evidence’ had been destroyed he would emerge from hiding.
One of Inspector Lloyd’s smartest recruits was M. Burke, who later rose to the position of sub-inspector. Lloyd instructed Burke to go to Ipswich, steal the horse and bring it to Brisbane but not to inform the Ipswich police at all.
In an interview many years later Sub-Inspector Burke told a newspaper that when the scheme was explained to him he asked: "Suppose I'm caught, sir."
"Well, you'll be locked up or perhaps shot in trying to escape, but you must chance that," his boss reportedly replied.
Burke carried out his orders faithfully - the horse was ‘spirited away’ from the Ipswich police station and kept in a St Helena Island police paddock where it was recorded as part of a ‘Chinaman's intestate estate’.
As insurance against Burke accidentally saying something about his adventure he was sent to the most remote police station in the State, Barcoo.
Jenkins, hiding out on the NSW border, fell into the trap. On June 1, 1868, Bill Jenkins, alias John King, was seen in Brisbane Street, disguised by having a coloured handkerchief tied round his face, as if suffering from toothache.
“His cabbage-tree hat, Crimean shirt, breeches, and top-boots, and his commanding personality soon attracted attention as he paraded the street,” reported the Queensland Times. Three reputable men, including Mr Cattlin, the sheriff's bailiff in Ipswich, reported his presence.
Jenkins realised he had been recognised so ran off in the direction of Basin Pocket where he was eventually captured on Bremer Road by Constable William Gunn. Jenkins had intended to double round to Silkstone, where his horse and pack, containing the brace of pistols, were left in a paddock.
At Jenkins’ trial for highway robbery, Sub-Inspector Lloyd, to the surprise of the prisoner's friends and the Ipswich police, produced the ‘missing link’ - the ‘stolen and incinerated’ horse, alive and branded JJ on the near shoulder.
Jenkins was found guilty and sentenced to 25 years hard labour on August 17, 1868. He was no stranger to Brisbane prison – he had served two sentences there and, while awaiting trial for highway robbery, nearly escaped.
Brisbane Prison, Boggo Road (State Library of Queensland)
Jenkins was later described in the newspapers of the day as “well educated, a beautiful penman, and who possessed poetical abilities far above the average”.
Some years after Jenkins died the Queensland Times wrote: “He became an entirely altered man while in gaol, where he and another confinee (Chandler), had learned the trade of saddle and harness makers, during the serving of their sentences.
“Their exemplary conduct gained the attention of the Rev. Canon Thos. Jones, the visiting Anglican clergyman, and he, with the assistance, it is said, of the late Mr. Harry Hooper, succeeded in his endeavors to obtain a mitigation of Jenkins's sentence, and on the release of Chandler and Jenkins, the Rev. Thos. Jones found them their capital to start in business in Albert-street, Brisbane, under the sign of ‘Chandler and Jenkins,’ where they proved efficient workmen, and honorable citizens. Both are dead.”
Jenkins was not his real name – his real name was never revealed.
Thus ended as extraordinary a case as probably holds a place in the annals of Australian crime.
Ian Muil
References:
Trove – www.trove.nla.gov.a
Queensland Times, Ipswich
Capricornian, Rockhampton
Some years after Jenkins died the Queensland Times wrote: “He became an entirely altered man while in gaol, where he and another confinee (Chandler), had learned the trade of saddle and harness makers, during the serving of their sentences.
“Their exemplary conduct gained the attention of the Rev. Canon Thos. Jones, the visiting Anglican clergyman, and he, with the assistance, it is said, of the late Mr. Harry Hooper, succeeded in his endeavors to obtain a mitigation of Jenkins's sentence, and on the release of Chandler and Jenkins, the Rev. Thos. Jones found them their capital to start in business in Albert-street, Brisbane, under the sign of ‘Chandler and Jenkins,’ where they proved efficient workmen, and honorable citizens. Both are dead.”
Jenkins was not his real name – his real name was never revealed.
Thus ended as extraordinary a case as probably holds a place in the annals of Australian crime.
Ian Muil
References:
Trove – www.trove.nla.gov.a
Queensland Times, Ipswich
Capricornian, Rockhampton
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