THE NARBETHONG MURDER.

Tuapeka Times, Volume XXIV, Issue 1818, 5 August 1891, Page 6

THE NARBETHONG MURDER.

THE CULPRIT'S STORY.

The Narbethong murder case (writes the 'Star's' correspondent on July 21) has at last been disposed of. The trial of the prisoner William Colston has been postponed from time to time, at the request of hia barrister and solicitor, who have been doing their best to work up a defence of insanity. The case for the defence has turned out to be a very weak one, and the jury had not the slightest hesitation in returning a verdict of guilty against the prisoner. Sentence of death has been pronounced, but its execution will be suspended pending the determination of a case to be stated for the opinion of the Supreme Court. Prisoner's counsel objected to the dtfiaition of insanity being confined to the questions whether Colston was able to distinguish right from wrong and ti understand the proceedings at his trial. He claimed for it a wider meaning, so as to bring in the medical aspect of insanity, which covers every description of brain disease.

Dr Mullen, who is a doctor of madicine as well as a barrister, and a son of the late well-known Melbourne bookseller, conducted the case for the defence. It was his maiden effort, and he made the best of a bad case.

The following letter, written by the prisoner to his policitor (Mr M. Lyle) gives his own account of the double murder, and will bo read with interest : — " Her Majesty's Gaol, " Melbourne, Ist July, 1891. " Sir, — Some remarks you made the other j day eet me thinking that the police are getting off the track about how and why I killed Davis and his wife, and are misconstruing some of the events of that day with a view to build up a case independent ot a statement I handed in for their information. One thing yon mentioned was that a doubt had been expressed as to whether it rained much that night, sufficient to wet things in my pocket, and that I had probably washed the bank notes to remove the blood stains, which would lead to a suspicion that I had taken them from the Divis's. As a matter of fact I got no blood stains at all, except a little on my hand, as I just drew the knife acrnsß their throats and left them, and had no occasion to put my hand in my pockets for anything. ... I find on consideration that I have given everybody concerned full information of the affair except you, so I tbink I had better give you a plain statement of all that oocurred that day, so that you will be able to meet any other errors the police may fall into. . , . I had for a long time been thinking of going tn Mildura. As a new and rising township I thought it a very likely place for work, and if I got into work to take up a bit of ground and settle tbero. ... I had been up to Davis's three or four times that week to see what day would be suitable to take my tool chest to Healesville, as it was too big and heavy for the coach. He put it off from day to day, owing to the weather beiDg suitable for some work he was at, and we finally agreed for Saturday. "On the Friday evening Davis came down to the hotel where I was staying, about 9 o'clock. I helped him to load the box, paid him ss, and then he shouted, and went home with bis dray. . . . So I went to my room and packed up, leaving out small ariicles for the j >urney to Mildura, Amongst these were a revolver and a sheath knife, which I used to carry in the bush, using the knife when in camp as a meat knife, but when in lodgings I kept both in my box, unless on a Sunday I went out shooting, or for along stroll in the bush, I would take them with me. On this occasion I put the revolver in my pocket, and the knife in my waist strap — their proper places. When 1 had finished and locked up, I thought I had best warn Davis to call for them with his dray, as otherwise he would be off before I was up. I started off, but never reached his bouse that night. I remember leaving the hotel, but nntding else till dawn next morning, when I woke up on the roadside about half way to Davis'ti house. I had fell down and slept there. When I was fully awake I went on to Davis's to complete my errand. I expected D*vis to be up, but he wasn't. I knocked at the door. Mrs Davis called out ' Who's there ?' I said ' Colston.' She replied 'All right; I'll be up in a minute.' I was a bit surprised, as I had been there at night before, and bawled a message through to Davis in bed, and she had never heard it, and always seemed to be deaf. She opened the door and said ' Come in.' I stepped in, and she was half behind the door, with only her nightdress on. I asked where was Davis, and she said 'Oh, he is out in the garden scaring birds.' I then said 'I want to see him about my boxes.' She then said ' I 'spose if you had catched Mrs this way . . .'I laughed at the old hag, and turned to go out, when she suddenly caught me by one arm and gave me a pull, and being off my balance, and not expeoting it, we tumbled on the couch together. As we fell she sang out ' Davis ! ' and Davis came out of the next room at once, and said : ' This here sort of thing has been going on quite long enough, and I'll put a stop to it.' I thought he was joking as usual, for it was a habit of the old woman's to bail me up at tbe gate and start her usual gossip, complaining of Davis ill-treating her (which I knew to be a lie) and going with other women. She would then accuse me of ... At this stage Davis would generally appear, although she would lead me to infer that he was not home. When he appeared she would catch hold of me, and use some suoh expression aa . . , I was a bit astonished the first time, but the whole thing was so ridiculous that I laughed at it, and so did Davis, and I thought she was cranky, and that he knew it. I used then for a time to take no notice of her, and pretend not to hear her as I passed ; but having business with Davis six months before I killed them she went through the same performance and declared that Divis was out, but I saw him, sneaking about the end of the house, so I called him. He looked ashamed this time, but still laughed as usual when she caught hold of me. But on the morning this row occurred I soon found he was not joking, but thought if I got him away from her be would come to his senses, so, to put an end to it, I said : ' Oh, I see, this is a blackmailing job. How muoh will square it? ' He said : ' Well, give us a fi-pun-note and I'll say no more about it.' " I never intended to give him anything, but to get him out of the house I said: ' Well, you had better come down to the hotel for my boxes, and I will see about it.' So we went out to the gate, when he turned back and said : ' I'll take my axe down, and get somebody to turn the stone.' I waited at the gate till he returned. We went down the road together. I tackled him at once, saying that be Knew the old woman better than I, and that there was nothing in it ; and when I saw he meant business I accused him of knowing all about it, and trying it on with her for two years or more. We went on talking till I hardly knew what I said to him, till he said he would either have the L 5 or report to the police as soon aa he got to Healesville. ' " I tried to say something more to him, but I couldn't speak, and snatched the axe off his shoulder and hit him with it. He fell down, and I dragged him off the road out of the traffic, and hit him again, and drew my knife and cut his throat ; only- for the mess I could have chopped him to bits then. I then thought of the old woman, and went back and served her the same. I put the axe outside the door, and threw the knife into the buehes,

" I went up the garden and washed my hands and got over the fence to go home the back way, when I thought if I upset the house a bit it would look as if someone had done it for plunder, so I went back then and upset the beds, boxes, and everything I could move, and nearly rohed the old woman off before I remembered she was on ic. I put her back, and sent the clock round and stopped it. I went ''then the front way, and, passing Davis, I saw the flies were getting at him. I pulled a few ferns and threw over him, and went on to the hotel through the bush. I went into my room and washed my face and called to John Neale, who slept in an adjoining room, as we usually bad a drink before breakfast. Whilst waiting for him I had a drink with the groom (Cobb and Co.'sj; and when Neale came along I remembered 1 had to give him some money about a watch that had changed hands the night before, but not having sufficient change I told him I would give it him as soon as Mrs Miller appeared, as I should settle my account and get change of aLS note. We had our breakfast shortly after, and then took our bookß for a read and Btnoke till coach time (10 a.m.) While thus occupied I got up and went into the bush, and seeing the sheath on my strap it set me thinking about the thing, and it struck me that as I had no coat on when I had a drink with the groom that he may have noticed the sheath and wondered where the knife was, so I Blipped it off and threw it into the creek above Miller's boat-house. I was in a sort of maze, and had scarcely thought about Davis or his wife after leaving them, and I crossed the creek and went up the old road to think.

"I went on and forgot all about the coach by which I could have got clear off before Davis was discovered, and at least made up my mind to go on to Maryville and see the constable there about it, as I knew him very well. I missed him through his going up a short cut through the busb, while I went through the town. I called at the first hotel for a glass of beer, and then went on to the second, which was next door to the police station. When I got there the people told me he had gone. I stayed to dinner, and then started back to Narbethong, where he he had gone to. " About a mile out of Maryville I heard the coach coming, and, not wishing to meet anyone before seeing the constable, I turned off into the bußh while it passed. There was someone behind on the track whom I thought was the groom from Narbethong, and he was stooping and looking at the road for my tracks as I thought, and with the probability that he had seen the sheath on me I thought everything was known, and they had commenced to look for me. So I thought Chen I would give them a run for it, and turned off into the bush, intending to get away if I could. The police told me afterwards, at the inquest, that my fears were all imaginery, as for the past three days they only wanted me to make 'coffins for Divis and his wife, but as I did not.turn up they thought it time to look for me. Well, after passing the coach I cut across through the bush towards Munro's, and got there just as a thunder shower came down.

" Aa soon as it waa dark on the Sunday night I made for Munro's houae to see if I could get anything to eat. I found one window unfastened, and got in and went to bed. I woke up at daybreak, and looked around for something to eat. I found a few tins of fish and some rice and barley — about a couple pounds each. Whilst eating I thought of the roof, and if I could get up it would be a good shelter for a day or two, if I could avoid the caretakers. So I went out and found a ladder and cut it the length, and put it down in the cellar for future use. I stayed out in the buah for a few days, and by getting up towards the road in the scrub I heard from the conversation of passers by that the detectives were up and ths trackers coming, and I determined to euchre them if I could. I saw them a few times, and not far off, but the scrubby country was favorable to me for cincealment, I lived on fish the first week and raw rice, and after that on potatoes and apples, cooking the potatoes at night on the bush fires. I got one loaf of bread the last week out of Munro'a dairy. I read books from Muliro's house all day and went in to sleep generally. I was greatly amused at one book • Australia and Homeward ' (by Lucas, I think), in which was a chapter on the infallibility of black trackers.

" The last week I was there Mr Munro came up, and I expected he would sleep there as usual, and thought I should have a good chance to see the newspapers when he was out. So I went into his room while he was at breakfast on the Sunday, and be oame in before I could get up in the roof again, so I had to hide myself in the next room. He stayed all the forenoon reading, and when he went in to dinner I went in, but there was no paper. I looked about, and saw a bulky purse sticking out of his trousers pocket hanging on a chair. I looked at it, and there were about thirty sovereigns in it. I took two of them, as I had lost my own money, thinkiog be would not miss them, and gofc up in the roof. Then I thought if I had enough to get a tent and odd things I should be fixed up, so I got down and got two more, and got up again. He did not come down again that afternoon, but just before dark his son, Aleak Munro, came down for the trousers and purse as I thought. Not seeing my way to any more food, I packed up that night ; and on going into the room the troueers and purse were still there, which I thought was a providence, and I took the lot then. I started about Sam. It was dark and was very wet, so I kept the road to Fernshaw, and then laid by in the bush till night. I fanoy someone was sleeping on the seat outside the hotel at Narbethong, and the dog growled but did not bark as I passed by. I rather expected there might be police and dogs at Davis's ; but the road was soft, and I got through all right.

"I left Fernshaw at nightfall, and walked through Bealpsville to Yarra Glen, arriving there about 6 a.m. I waited there till the hotel opened, had one glass of brandy and my breakfast, While I waß filling my pipe at the door, Forster came through the hotel into the bar and spoke. I turned round and shook hands, and he asked what I was doing there. I told him I was travelling. He turned short round, went back through the hotel to the police station, which was next door, and brought the constable and said 'There you are, look at him.' The constable asked my name, and I Baid Lewis, and Forster said 'It's no use to deny it, yon are Colston. 1 After a few more questions the constable arrested me on suspicion of being Colston, and when in the cell he began to search me. I handed him my revolver to prevent accidents, as it was loaded. He spoke of taking me-. to Narbethong for identification, and I told him he needn't trouble, as I was Colston, and if I had time I would tell him all about it, I thought then if I had to hang for it it might be done with as little trouble as possible. Some people had asked me why I didn't shoot Forster, but I had no reason. He did not aggravate me in any way, nor did the constable annoy me. He came in after a bit to take down my statement, and as he seemed to be flurried and busy I offered to write it myself, and did so. The inspector and detectives came later and interviewed me. I thought I had already told them enough for practical purposes, but the inspector seemed to think there was a lot more to be said about it. Any bow, I answered all their questions, and gave them all theinformation they asked for, telling them where to look for the knife and sheath, apd everything connected with it, till something occurred that showed me they were jealous

of each other, and only wanted the informatlon to gain professional laurels in getting up the case. Oae went so far as to say to me: 'Don't tell those fellows everything; give me a chance ;' and the inspector tapped another on the back ana said : ' All right, old man, I know where the knife is as well as you, but you can go for it and get the credit of it just the same.' 1 felt a bib disgusted at this sort of work, and from then I did not lell them within a mile where to look for anything else, so as not to handicap one more than another. Consequently they have never found my shirt, or the bank notes, or a swag I made up and threw away. I never took the shirt off till I got to Fernshaw, and there was no blood on it or anything else, and I don't see what difference if there was. There is evidence enough without it, and I don't want to shirk ont of it.

" I should never have bothered about a barrister at all. It seems such a simple case, only the time wa3 hanging heavily m the remand yards, and when a man named Anderson and others persuaded me to write to you, I did it more with the idea of breaking the monotony than any hope that it would make any difference.

"Everybody at Healesville and Yarra Glen seemed disappointed, as if they had been defrauded of their rights, because I was not a howling maniac or shamming it ; and I had every opportunity of doing so, liviDg here with lunatics of all sorts to imitate if I had wished to, but I am a cut above that yet. Since I was fool enough to be caught I can put up with the consequences, and yet feel that millions of people come to a more painful and lingering end than I. Besides, if I was mad enough to satisfy a jury, the alternative is worse still. Life in a madhouse is no improvement on the gallows, I think.

" However, I have killed them, and if I had remembered I was breaking the law I do not suppose it would have stopped me killing them or anyone else who provoked me as they did. No one else ever did, or I suppose my career would have been cut short before.

" I admit I made a great mess of it, for I might have shot them with my revolver in3teid of hacking them about so, if I had thought of it ; or if I had hidden Davis and eet fire to the house it would have made a cleaner job, and not left so much for people to horrorise over.

" But there, if I had thousht of all these things, I should have gone away by the coach instead of fooling around as I did. I have to face the consequences of my folly, and see no good fretting about it. Hot can I honestly say I am sorry, for if a snake had bitten me I should have killed it, and that is how I i'eel about them, and should have forgotten it by now only I am so constantly reminded of it here, and to anyone that knew the old woman it would seem the earth ' was well rid of such a venomous old libeller, who could do more harm with her tongue than I could do with an axe. In fact I have often heard neighbors say she ought to be burnt. And yet it seems strange to me sometimes that I do not feel differently about it. Ido not think that murder is justifiable in the settlement of all quarrels, for that would Boon make a hash of things and leave only cowards ; but I believe there are times when human beings, like other animals, can no more control themselves than they can help being alive, and under certain provocation are justified in taking the life of another who intends to make life a hell to them, or inflct an injury which to some people would be worse than death."