UNDER SENTENCE IN NORFOLK ISLAND.

Golden Bay Argus, Volume 2, Issue 2, 10 June 1892, Page 7

UNDER SENTENCE IN NORFOLK ISLAND.

AUTHENTIC KECOKDS. BY IVAN DEXTER , Author of “ Mount Maccdon Mystery f “ Convict Life in Norfolk Islcmdf “ Convict Days in V.D.L.f eve., c >'c. (ALL BIGHX3 RESERVED.} No. 13. - CONVICT CHARLES MOONEY. In the year 1536 a strange outrage was committed in Malahide, Ireland, which lor a year baffled all efforts of the authorities to discover the perpetrators, The crime that was carried out was one 'that is now practically unknown, but at that period was of frequent occurrence and gave rise to many disgraceful circumstances. It was that of body snatching, and the Malahide outrage was carried out under extraordinary and peculiar surroundings. A gentleman named Talbot Edwards had for many years resided in Malahide. He was an elderly bachelor in 1836, and of very eccantric habits, and it was generally understood that he was possessed of considerable wealth. In the summer of that year he took seriously ill, and his only attendant was an old housekeeper who had come to the district with him nearly twenty years previously. Edwards’ illness became so serious that a doctor had to he called in, who bluntly told his patient to prepare himself for the worst and arrange his worldly affairs if he had not already done so. The dying man on receiving this intimation at once had a messenger dispatched to Dublin for a certain attorney whom he wished to draw up his will. In due course this man (one Michael Hardy) arrived and remained with Edwards until his death, which took place a few days after. The will was a most curious document. Amongst other things it provided that a watoh of three approved men should be kept at his grave day and night for three months, in order to prevent the successful operations of the “ resurrection men,” as the ghoul-like body snatchers were called. A substantial legacy was left to the housekeeper, and the attorney and these two persons were anpointed the executors of the will. In the event of their not faithfully carrying out the trust reposed in them, the testator in another clause invoked terrible maledictions on their heads.

Those who know the Irish character and the superstitious reverence they pay to the requests of the dying, even when not accompanied by curses or threats of “haunting,” will readily believe that the housekeeper and the attorney complied in every respect with Edwards’ requests. Hardy selected three men to watch the grave, as provided in the will, and one of the three was a farm laborer named Charles Mooney. He lived in a small cabin near the cemetery, and was employed by the surrounding farmers when they required help. He had the reputation of being an excellent workman, with an Hibernian’s fondness for whisky, and in 1836 he was 41 years, but a bachelor.

He was glad to accept the position of grave-watcher, as a very liberal payment was offered, although he would have preferred earning it in some other manner than by mounting guard in a churchyard over the mortal remains of a man about whom some queer stories had been told. The Irish character it might be said is a strange mixture of superstitious cowardice and dare-devil oourago.

Half a centuay ago it was quite a common thing for stalwart young men visiting a farmhouse of an evening, where some old orone might happen to narrate ghost stories, to remain at the house all night, as they were too frightened to go home in the darkness. These same men would subsequently become the finest soldiers and sailors in the world performing deeds of heroism equal to the legends of Greek or Roman warriors. Like P.ichard 111., shadows at night had more terrors for them than the substance of ten thousand men, but, unlike the hunohbaok usurper, the fears were not induced by an evil and accusing conscience.

Charles Mooney was a fair type of his aountrymen, and though his new occupation was easy enough in the daylight it was very repugnant to him at night. The men had to take a shift of eight hours each in the twentyfour. Whether Mooney’s co-watchers did as he did is not pertinent to the history of the event, but it is certain that Charles, the farm laborer, when on night watch oarried with him a flask of “poteen,” and when darkness Bet in he slunk away baok to his oabin, and sallied out again when he had arranged to meet his relief. In fact, Mooney did not watch at all at night, and his very venial offence was destined to meet with an awful retribution.

It happened that Mooney had to take the watch from 10 p.m. until 6 a.m., on the first •reek after the interment, and for thxar

mghts everything passed off all right, as the watcher simply put in an appearance at ten o’clock and six o'clock respectively. On the morning of the fourth of Ootober, 1836, he left his oabin, where he had spent the night instead of at the grave, and walked over to the ohurohyard. It was a little after five o’clock and not yet daylight, but the twilight rendered objects distinctly visible. He sauntered slowly up to the grave, but when he got near it he stopped in horror, for the freshly thrown up earth clearly showed that it had been opened. Without stopping to see if the ooflln still remained he ran madly to the oabin of the man who had to relieve him, and the two returned to the grave where it was at once seen the “ Resurrectionists had been at work and carried off the defunot occupant. Attorney Hardy had not yet left Malahide, and the two men at once proceeded to him and told what had happened. “ What were you doing to allow such a thing, Mooney. It was your watch was it not?” the lawyer asked, with a severe snl searching look on his face. Thinking that it was best to tell the truth, especially as no more watching would be necessary. Mooney informed Hardy that he was too frightened to remain in the churchyard at night, and that from a few minutes past 10 p.m., until almost daylight that morning he had been absent at his cabin.

The attorney said very little, but as soon as possible he went to the house of Francis Talbot, a magistrate, living in the place, and had a long conversation with him about the outrage. A close search wa3 at once made, and during the day the body of Edwards was found at the western end of the cemetery, the coffin being covered with a few inches of earth, and lying beside the mound was a spade with the name of “Mooney” cut on the handle. The body had scarcely been disturbed, and it eeemed strange that the men who had gone to all the trouble and danger (for they could be shot down like mad dogs if caught at the work) should have left the object of their risky enterprise behind them without the slightest apparent reason. A strange and unexpected explanation was soon given of the cause which induced the resurrectionists to leave their ghastly booty behind them, for both Hardy and the old housekeeper swore before Magistrate Talbot that a thousand guineas had been buried in the coffin with Edwards. This was one of the most solemn requests of the eccentric old man, and about the non-fulfilment of which the maledictions had been included in the will.

The body-snatohers were, doubtless, well acquainted with the Malahide churchyard and the latest burial that had taken place therein. Finding that the grave was not watched, as supposed, they had violated it, and on opening the coffin at the opposite side of the cemetery had found the money in it. A thousand guineas was a most weloome and unexpected haul, and rendered the graverobbers independent of their usual source of revenue. Hastily throwing a little earth over the coffin, they had disappeared, leaving only the spade behind there. *

This was admitted to be Mooney’s by the man himself, and the circumstances surrounding it were very suspicious. The fellow was paid to watch the grave on the night it was opened and there was only his own assertion that he was not present when the act was committed. It was more than likely that Mooney was an accessary to the outrage and had received a substantial bribe to aid it, and the result was that the unfortunate farm laborer was arrestgd on the capital charge and tried at the following assizes. Although the most diligent enquiries and search was made no actual proof could be found that the man had received any money, nor conld any be found concealed. It was purely a oase of circumstantial evidence, and a very strong oase without doubt. The judge held the prisoner’s refusal to say who were his companions in the outrage—on the plea that he did not know any more than the judge himßelf—to be sheer obstinacy, and he told the jury as much. Mooney’s explanation that the spade must have been taken from the “ skillion ” in which he placed it was characterised as absurd, and on the judge’s adverse summing up a verdict of guilty was returned, and a sentence of penal servitude for life imposed. Two months after he sailed in the convict ship “ Great Southern for Van Dieman’s Land to begin his terrible punishment of life transportation, and even the horrors of the tedious voyage passed unnoticed, for the blow had partly Btupefied him, and he was as one in a dream.

Many years afterwards (in 1854) the true facts of the “ body-snatching ” were revealed, but it was too late to vindicate the innooent man, who at that date had long passed through his awful pilgrimage in the conviot settlements. It appears that there were four men concerned in the outrage. Two of them were medioal students of Dublin, in rather poor ciroumstanoes, but who required a “ subjeot,” and at al2 risks were determined to have one, and the other two were residents of Malahide. One of them—a small farmer—was actually on the jury that found Mooney guilty. This person was intimate with the convicted man, and knew from conversations with him that he was engaged to watoh Edwards’ grave, but, from a hint that Mooney gave him after imbibing a few glasses of whisky, he knew the man would not stiok to his post at night. The Btudents met this struggling farmer and induced him by a fairly liberal offer to help them in cbtaining what they wanted, and he (Donegan) got the assistance of a man who was in his employ to help for a consideration. On the night that the outrage was committed Donegan went to Mooney’s cabin to ascertain if the owner was inside,and through a chink at the end he saw the supposed watoher Bit-

ting at the table on which a rush light burned enjoying the contents of his “ poteen ” bottle. Mooney had, in fact, only returned a short while from the cemetery, Recollecting that he had forgotten to bring a spade Donegan searched round the premises of the negligent watcher, and in a “ skillion ” found the one with the fatal word “ Mooney ” on it. After exhuming the body, they carried it to where it was found, and on opening the coffin to remove it were astonished to discover the guineas. A satisfactory division was soon made and the object of the mission soon forgotten, for the students could now easily buy a “ subject ” without running the risk of being hanged. In 1854 Donegan was stricken by a fatal illness, and he confessed the substance oi tho above narrative to the priest who attended him.. The clergyman advised him to make it public, so that tardy justice might be done to Mooney. Thai poor wretch and victim had sunk into oblivion, so far as the people of Malahide were concerned, and it was net known that he was dead. The dying farmer made his declaration to the Hon. Francis ialbot, who years before had taken a magisterial part in the body-snatching of Edwards, and that gentleman at once brought the matter before the proper authorities only to be informed, months afterwards, that *• Convict Charles Mooney, prison number 2496 per ship Great Southern, had died nt Norfolk Island bv judicial process on the 3ru of November, 1848.” The victim bad been sacri» ticed, and tne death-bed expiation of Donegan —and such remorse is really no expiation—was six years too late to benefit Mooney. The names of Donegan’s associatss were never revealed, and no attempt was made to discover them, for it would only have shown with a very lurid light that not only is the law frequently “ a hass,” but that sometimes it is comparable to a very bloodthirsty animal that must have a victim.

On the 7th of July, 1837, Convict Mooney arrived at Hobait Town, and for a month he was placed in the barracks, preparatory to being sent to Port Arthur prison ; but he was net destined to go there. His unjust sentence had changed the current of his life in a remarkable manner. From being a harmless, good-natured, easy-going fellow he had beoome a morose and dangerous man ; his good qualities had been dried up by the fiery blast of misfortune which had swept over him. He felt that death would be a merciful release from the life that lay in front of him, aDd which as yet he did not even know the full horror of. His advent to the Hobart Town barraoks was not calculated to remove the gloomy and ferocious thoughts which filled his mind. The officials at Hobart Town were mostly venal and cruel. They treated the felons muoh worse than they used their dogs or the pigs which they fed with the prisoner’s rations. It was not in Mooney’s nature to stand the brutal insolence and refined cruelty of his gaolers, and he had only been in the barracks three days when he violently assaulted an official, but not until he was almost forced to do so. It appears that a constable named Walsh had made himself very obnoxious to the batch of convicts who had arrived by the Great Southern. More than once he had boasted that he intended getting them a taste of the lash, as he considered they were not full fledged convicts until they had received at least a “ cool fifty.” Although one of the lowest subordinates, the System allowed him a great deal of authority over the hapless wretches who were doomed to come within its draconian provisions. By practising a few cunning subterfuges he had practically the power of life and death over them, for he could goad them on to a point of desperation ; when losing control of themselves they would attack their guards, and either be shot down or hanged subsequently. Three days after the prisoners had been landed from the Great Southern six of them were engaged in the barrack yard, under Constable Walsh, laying down Btono pitching. One of the prisoners was a ssptagenarian named Maddooks, and the British government might well have allowed him to die in England, for his days were clearly numbered. He was exceedingly feeble, while his palsied hand and emaciated frame made it abundantly evident that he was absolutely unfit for hard work. He struggled hard "to set the large and heavy pitohers, but his efforts did not produce much result. Walsh spoke several times to him in a rongh and brutal manner, urging him to work harder, and at last he gave the trembling old man a push which sent him on his faae. Mooney was working beside Maddocks, and, impelled by indignation, he told Walsh he was a “ cowardly brute.” The constable instantly drew his club and struck the supposed body-snatoher a violent blow with it on the head, and the latter instantly sprang at the official and furiously dashed him backwards. Ho would probably have killed the ruffianly constable had not assistance promptly arrived ; and after beating Mooney on the head until he was unconscious, the constables, who oame to their comrade’s resoue, carried the prisoner away, and, placing him in a cell, chained him to the stone floor to await the pleasure of the polioe magistrate who would try him and mete out what he considered adequate punishment for so grave an offence as assaulting a oonstable whose person the System held to be saared.

For a week Mooney did net appear before P.M. Marston, for he was under the dootor’s care, who said that his skull was slightly fractured, but at the end of that period he was brought into the august presence.

Next week the series of convict records will be continued, under the title of “ Stony Hearts.” This will oontinue and oonclade the story of Conviot Mooney’s wrecked life, and will be of exceptional interest.