"Born At Government House"

NZ Truth, Issue 1001, 31 January 1925, Page 6

"Born At Government House"

The Very Mysterious "Lord" Panchard and the Very Tangible Cash He Extracted from Dupes

IN a lonely settler's tent, away back m the bush of Queensland's North-west, Alfred Edinburgh Panchard craved for whisky, but could get none— and so he died, with nothing left to remind him. of the good times he had had on other people's money. WEAK and emaciated, he fell back on the rude stretcher, his eyes rolled back into their and "Lord" Panchard, Queensland's most romantic crooK, had passed from the land of cheque-books, champagne, and — gaols. AND 1 he died as he had lived, a mystery, claiming that a retired admiral of the British Navy- was his father, his mother Lady , and his birthplace Government House, on the picturesque shores of Sydney Harbor.

Nothing is known of the romantic crook with the big brown eyes and the drooping moustache during the early years of hw life — that is, before the law took cognisance of his existence. He may (writes " Truth's" Brisbane Rep.) have been born at Sydney's old stone vice-regal residence, and his parentage may be as he claimed. More peculiar things than that have evolved themselves m a world where mental kinks '■ make crooks of well-bred men and scientists, and. inventors, and others.

Panchard, or rather Lord Panchard, as he was known and often accepted m Queensland, is just another problem to add to the many others set for solation to the students of criminal psychology.

The most that is known of him he . has told to the police, who knew him well. And their records show that he ■was born m Sydney, m 1873, but he usod an accent — whether affected, or otherwise — that does not come natur- I ally to those from by the harbor's side. Rather is it associated with the lounges of London's most fashionable hotels. Still it has been kno.^n to be effectively nurtured under the warmth of the southern sun, and it is undoubtedly of great use to the brand of crook characterised by the minions of the law as "a cheque man." Many members of Brisbane's best society circles know this to their sorrow — and Lord Panchard knew it, hence their sorrow. Suffice it is that describing himself — officially, of course — as a clerk and a journalist, his lordship arrived m Brisbane m ISBS. A Sl'3 at Toowoomba. His free and easy manner and approach that- rang 1 true, had suffered as little as his accent, owing to the fact that he had already spent 12 months as a non-paying guest of His Majesty owing to a beastly annoying little trouble over a cheque m Toowoomba a short time previously. .But apparently society m the Nortriein State did not at that time rush to take him to its bosom, or maybe tl-.at same bosom was not sufficiently capacious to carry him.' And then Toowoomba had proved confoundedly awkward. So he turned his lordly steps southward again. The country called <xs by some peculiar mental suggestion it always did to him, and the next punctuation maiic m his chequered career was found m Narrabri — m the north-west of New South Wales. For a time things became desperate, ; and at that stage of his professional preying upon society he had not thoroughly learned tl j eas- with which,, a signature can be affixed to a cheque, and money, real hard cash, be produced, despite the pessimism of parsimoniously-paid tellers m institutions known as banks. He stole a horse — o- did he merely borrow it, with that grandiloquent air of his? At least a Judge only had one idea, and once again the King housed a lord for six months. Lord Panchard was becoming 1 rather well known, and not exactly m the quarters most favored by the aristocracy. ' v A Few Aliases. So the names Forbes Innes. Melby, Fred Melby, Arthur William Blaxland, John O'Connor, Arthur Kennedy, Robert Walpole, Reginald Murray, and a host of others, were used, behind which to hide his identity, while trouble was falling as thick and fast upon, him as his dishonored cheques were lighting- back on the roll- top desks of their original acceptors. Once again he felt the call of the big-hearted North, and though the social, columns of the respectable dailies did not chronicle his an-ival, nevertheless Lord Panchard arrived m Brisbane m 1900. His brown hair was turning- slightly grey, but his big brown eyes invited confidence as before; his accent was unmarred, though his drooping black moustache seemed, to droop just a trifle more. '.-.'. , Once or twice he annexed property which did riot rightly belong to him, and so he suffered the penalties provided., '■■ ''■■:' .'■"• :

. But such occurrences were merely incidental to 'his real life's drama, or rather, serio-comedy.

And like the. religious preparing for spiritual war upon the sins of society, so the big brown-eyed lord took

himself to a far western station as a handy man, jackaroo, gardener, or anything: that was wanted* And so he had time to lay his plans, Ejnd incidentally earn sufficient money to enable him to make the first break into the atmosphere .hich was to provide the setting for his intended coup. Naturally of a dark complexion, • and tanned by the sun, he looked the typical station man, and his accent suggested the jackaroo. He brought the breath of the wide spaces and the naive simplicity of the bushman to town with him, and he booked m only at one of the best hotels. t The clatter of his money on the bar counter could be heard more frequently than the same note resounding from the coin of anyone else round about. I:. Best Circles. A free "spender," a good sport — those were the appellations which his manner and his personality drey upon him from the men whom he met — and only the best men were good enough to associate with Lord Panchard. . ■ . And they were pleased to be seen with him. In fact, one well-known city business man remarked, after Panchard had relieved him of over £800 by means of one of his useless cheques, that it was almost a pleasure to be taken down by such a gentlemanly crook as the bogus lord. Many were the harvests he reaped for which the police were not asked to garner him m, as he worked on those members of society who did not care to let it be known that they were such easy subjects for the glib tongue of the aristocratic cheque man. But several times he chose subjects that were not so particular, and he disappeared from the social horizon for terms for two, three, and five years. At each trial Panchard would make an oration that rivalled Robert 15mmett's speech from the dock, and many and varied were the theories he advanced for his presence there. He asked one judge to release him with an order to be surgically treated. He said there was something inside his head that, when he took a drink, pressed upon his brain, and he was not responsible for what he .did. He was not normally a crook. Who can say that his contention was not a true one? In that mystic nerve centre, the brain, so many peculiar things are involved that ev6n puzzle our best scientists. A strong advocacy of the process of X-raying the brains of ■criminals is even now being made. It would have been interesting to see the result of such an . examination of the brain of Queensland's most romantic crook. Enter the Woman. Having passed thi-ough an interesting chain of vicissitudes, the ' lord came to that state of mind which is met with by most men m the course of their lives— he decided to take unto himself a wife. ' ■

And as he sought the country for rest and the necessary financial backing to commence each of his raids, so the fair damsel of his choice came from the country . district out from Blackall.' And what a wedding, lit only lor a lord!' Panchard, m the / phraseology of a detective Who was m the town at ,the time, bought everything m • Rockhampton except the post office and the' police .station — all purchases, of course, being made by cheque. , It was a gala day for Rockhampton,

and for the managing clerk of a most respectable and conservative firm of solicitors m particular. His lordship had persuaded this man, who was a pillar of his own particular church, io act as his best man. Well, it is not everyone that can be best man to a lord! And just incidentally, Panchard bought two of the leading hotels m the town, several motor cars, and small things like shops and prospero*us businesses, to celebrate the event. Who would not take the cheque of a lord, and more particularly a lord about to be united m, matrimony with a Western "Queensland girl? So the wedding- took place, and, of course, there had to be a wedding breakfast, and that feast had to be carried out m the grandiloquent style which alone would satisfy his lordship. • The wine flowed freely. The best man, at other times a strict teetotaller, now, under the persuasive influence of the hospitable lord, looked upon it as it "flowed m all its redness. - So much so that, on returning home that night, he found it necessary to climb the stairs on his hands and knees. At least, he felt that that was the safest way. Cheques Paid m "Time." The natural corollary to such a feast upon cheques that represented nothing except the. signature A. £3. Panchard, was that the lord should pay — not m tens of pounds, as that was not possible, but m tens of years. And he did. He came out again with a new line of talk, and a picturesque background to his story. And' this happening shows just how clever Panchard was

when it came to | persuading people to cash cheques even against their own judgment.

A well-known florist m Brisbane had been warned against the lordly gentleman from the outback.

Panchard strolled into the florist's shop one bright morning, and, with his cultured accent and lazy manner, told the florist how he proposed to convert the. homestead on .his station into a veritable oasis m the desert. He had become enamored of the idea of decorating with ferns, suspended from the roof and other forms of potted plant adornment. He painted a beautiful picture, and he felt sure that this florist alone %vas sufficiently artistic to execute the idea.

• He bought £300 worth of plants, gave the florist a cheque for £375 — and the rest can easily be guessed.

At least, the florist soon found out that he had made the lord a present of £75. ' And then came the war arid the enlistment m Brisbane of Lord Panchard, as a pri" ate, mind you! Snobs as Subjects. With a true insight into the psy chology of his fellow-men, he recognised the possibilities that lay m the basic snobbery of most of the officers m the camp, who for once m their lives were m a position of authority. A real, live lord, and a private — they collected around him like . flies around the proverbial honey-pot.

To swank into the leading hotels, with spurs clanking, and a Kiwi polish that dazzled, m the company of Lord Pan chard. What! Panchard's hands simply itched to get to work on his cheque-book. Here were subjects, tailor-made for him. He would give a big dinner at Lennon's Hotel, and invite all the officers — a splendid idea, and they needed no sergeant-major to call them to that guzzle parade. 'His lordship was the hero of the camp, and a guard of honor was provided outside the hotel. The lord of the cheque-book and the gaol marched m under a canopy of drawn swords. And there was set a feast fit for any lord and his friends. • The wine .flowed freely, and tongues were loosened m praise of the lord who had, m true patriotism, enlisted to fight f 01; his country as an ordinary. private. Colonels vied with majors, captains, and ambitious, lieutenants, for the favor of his smile or the privilege of conversing with their distinguished host. Any little favors that they could do for him — why, it would be more than a pleasure, it would be an honor. So the. lord, having laid his plans well, found himself temporarily short of x-eady cash — and out come the cheque-book. He was rushed with offers "to cash the paper, but the banks were not so ready m their acceptance of them. By this time Private Lord Panchard had disappeared. And then ' the snobs realised that they had been bitten. Some of them were, so sore that they approached the police. That was where Panchard had made his only mistake m the psychology of the snobs he was dealing with. Certainly the majority of them were too -ashamed to blow the gaff. The police found his lordship resting quietly m South Brisbane, and when he was tried, he asked the Judge to sentence him to be hanged — well knowing that no such sentence could be passed upon him for the offence. He confided m one of the detectives, who dealt v/ith him on that' occasion, that he got £13,000 m two weeks f rdm the snobs by means of his cheques. The Judge gave him two years on that occasion, which was m August, 1917. When he came out, Panchard's brown hair was showing more decided patches of grey, and his dark-skinned face was the more deeply wrinkled. Still, he was far from an old man, and shortly afterwards he made outback again. . . The Brisbane police have not come into direct contact with him since. How the End Came. The circumstances of his death are* sad when the high spots of his career are remembered. He became ill, so ill that it was necessary to take . him to the Boulia Hospital. And there his old craving for whisky came over him again. He pestered the nurses and the doctor for it, and when that failed he demanded it, but all to.no avail. Realising that he could not get .it, he got up from his sick bed and stole out of the hospital. ' ' • He started on a lonely trek back m the direction of the station from which he had been brought. There were no chances of inveigling 1 tony friends m as subjects for the chequebook out there where the road was but a dusky track, and the big g-aunt gums seemed to mock his futile efforts as he dragged his -body, weak from sickness, along. '' • Mile after mile he struggled on, until he stumbled into a lonely settler's tent — still craving for whisky. Once again that all-consuming' thirst was not to be quenched. There was no ! whisky there. The settler, realising his weak condition, fed him? on tinned milk foods, while the debonair crook, who had lost all the subtlety of his appeal, cried aloud for whisky.

And so, out there, where the crows flew over the tent with their melancholy croak and the owls hooted from the trees at night, Alfred Edinburgh Panchard passed m his checks.