22 August 1925

Memories of an Old Police Officer

III. Early Days in the Force

By Ex-Inspector C. Le Lievre.

Register (Adelaide, SA : 1901 - 1929), Saturday 22 August 1925, page 13

At Sydney Capt. Smith and I spent several days, and after sightseeing in Sydney and Melbourne we parted, like ships at night on the high seas, never to meet again. After leaving him I felt sad, for I had parted with one of the best and kindest-hearted men I had ever known. I left by steamer for Port Adelaide.

Upon stepping ashore, I was accosted by a water constable (Cpl. Bird), who said to me, "Well, young fellow, I've been looking for you. Where have you been?" I replied, "I was not aware that, I had done anything that the police should want me." He said, "Did you not apply to join the police troopers?" I replied that I had some time previously. He told me that there was a vacancy, and that he had been told off to look me up. The corporal told me that I was to report myself at the police barracks as soon as possible. I did so on the following day at 9 a.m.

At the orderly room I was asked my business by a man of splendid build in uniform, and a soldier every inch of him. He had been, I was informed, a sergeant in the Hussars. This was the barrack master (Cpl. Nalty), who had succeeded Cpl Gate, who in the meantime had resigned from the service; I was taken into the chief inspector's office, and was told to be at the Commissioner's office at 10 a.m. that morning. Mr. George Hamilton was then Commissioner of Police. He instructed me to report myself to Dr. Paterson (Colonial Surgeon) for medical examination, which I did, and was informed that I had passed the medical test satisfactorily, and that I had a splendid constitution. He gave me good and kindly advice, which I never forgot. I returned to the police barracks, and informed the orderly corporal that I had passed the examination. I was then told I could go, and to report myself at the barracks on the following day at 9 a.m.


I Join the Police Troopers.

Punctually at that time I presented myself at the orderly room of the barracks, and well do I remember the day, for it was on February 5, 1877, that I took the oath of allegiance, and was sworn in as a member of the South Australian Mounted Police Force. Thus commenced my career of 42 years in the mounted police.

When I joined the police troopers, as they were then designated (for it was not for some years after that the name was altered to mounted constables), the summer uniform was a handsome blue Garibaldi tunic quilted in the front with, black silk, and on the cuffs to the elbows, long blue trousers with white stripes, peak cap with white band, patent leather cross belt, sword and spurs, which gave them a smart and striking appearance. It was acknowledged to be the finest and most unique uniform worn, and was in great contrast to that worn by the mounted police of other States. Need less to say it was much admired by the public. We were justly proud of our uniform, for the troopers were considered the superior branch of the service.

Mounted Police Barracks, c.1900. SLSA [B 38834/1]


When His Royal Highness, the late Duke of Edinburgh visited Adelaide in 1867, he was so impressed with our uniform that he expressed a wish to the Commissioner of Police (Mr. Hamilton) to allow him to have half a dozen of the men photographed. His Royal Highness was so pleased with, the photograph that he presented his own photo, and autograph to each of the chosen troopers. The winter uniform was a dark cloth tunic, long trousers, Wellington boots, and spurs. The helmet, riding breeches, and long boots were not worn until some years after 1877. At that time the mounted branch had little to do with the foot.



Four Divisions.

The police force was divided into four divisions. The metropolitan (foot) was in charge of Superintendent Peterswald, who subsequently became Commissioner of Police. I have served under five Commissioners, but without a doubt he was an ideal one, and dwarfed into insignificance some of whom in later years came after him. Well might it be said of some of them, "some men are born to honour, some win it, others have it thrust upon them."

On the superintendent's promotion, Inspector Sullivan took charge. He was one of Ireland's sons, a born policeman, and a capable and most efficient officer. His second-in-command was Inspector Bee, and his duties were more in connection with licensed premises.

The central division mounted branch was in charge of Chief Inspector Searcy, an ideal officer and a thorough gentleman. His headquarters were at the barracks. He was proud of his men, and we were justly proud of him, but woe betide the trooper that came before him for conduct unbecoming a gentleman, or a gross breach of discipline, for he would chastise him as with a two-edged sword. His language was then both lurid and expressive, and he would mete out to him the punishment he richly deserved, but for minor and petty breaches of discipline, although a strict disciplinarian, he recognised that it was human to err, and tempered justice with mercy. We all loved him for his humane and good qualities, for they more than overshadowed any faults he may have had.

The northern division was in charge of Inspector Saunders, his headquarters being at Clare.

The far northern division was in charge of Inspector Beasley, an officer loved by all his men for his impartiality and fair treatment meted out to his men. At his death a beautiful monument was erected to his memory in the Port Augusta Cemetery by the men of his division. I can quite understand this, although I did not serve under him, but on the various occasions I came in contact with him I found him a thorough gentleman.

The south-eastern division was in charge of Inspector Hunt, with headquarters at Penola. He was later, on the retirement of Inspector Searcy, transferred to the charge of the central division with the rank of super intendent. I had the pleasure of serving under him for a number of years. Although he was a disciplinarian, I always found him strictly fair and just, and one who recognised merit and ability. He was a good officer and a gentleman. While under him I had charge of the Nairne Police Station, and was there during the whole of the time of the construction of the overland railway line to Melbourne, during which time I met with many thrilling adventures, which I shall relate later.


Barrack Life.

After I had been a few days in barracks doing fatigue and other light duties, I was ordered to fall in with the other recruits for foot and sword drill. Corporal Nalty held the dual position of barrack master and drill instructor. We did drill from 10 a.m. until noon. This was repeated day after day, until the instructor passed us as efficient. I found no difficulty in learning this, as I had done drill as a cadet in the Royal Jersey Militia, and am proud to say I had won the fifth prize, a silver spoon — which I prize— in competition drill among 200 odd Senior Cadets, and awarded to me by Major-Gen. H. R. Abadie, C.B., Lieutenant-Governor of Jersey.

A horse was then told off to each one of us. At that time bays were mostly used in Adelaide, and it was not until a much later date that greys superseded them. A few greys were in the barracks, but after they had been thoroughly drilled with the sword and double bit they were sent to the out-station men. The greys in the barracks were usually given to men as a punishment for not grooming and looking after their horses properly, as they are much harder to keep clean on account of every little stain showing.

The mounted drill took place at the rear of the barracks. A jumping bar, over which the troopers had to take their horses, was part of the mounted drill, and was considered great sport by most of us. We had mounted drill from 10 a.m. until noon, and then from 2 p.m. until 3.30.

After we had passed as efficient in our horsemanship, drill, and sword exercise, we were ordered to go to the tailors and get measured for our uniform. It was a red-letter day for us when we appeared for the first time on parade in uniform, and there was great rejoicing at the mess table, for it was the custom for all recruits to shout half a gallon of beer to his comrades; this also the case on first patrol and on being told off for dispatch duty, which was for the trooper detailed to convey correspondence to and from the Commissioner's office. At that time the dispatch was distinguished from other other troopers on duty by carrying a sabredash attached to his sword.

There was a canteen at the barracks, at which beer was provided; but this was abolished some years later, as it was abused by some of the men. Evening stables was at 4 p.m.; the horses were fed and looked after for the night. The roll was then called, and men told off for stable guards, reserves, and night guards, their duty being to attend to all reports coming in. All of those who were not told off were allowed leave from the barracks until 10 p.m.. or special leave until 11 p.m. At 10 p.m. we fell in, and the roll was called.

Absentees and other delinquents' names were entered in the night guard book and brought up before the Chief Inspector in the morning by the barrack master. We were asked by the chief what we had to say. The usual excuses were: — "Watch stopped," "Missed cars," and "Didn't know it was so late," or various excuses to meet the offence for which we were charged. The chief would give us a lecture in strong and forcible language on the enormity of our offences, and ask us if we knew what would be done to us were we in the army. On us telling him we did not know, he would pause; then, like a clap of thunder, he would exclaim,, "Shot by God! S-H-O-T!' Our knees would tremble at the thought of what might have happened to us were we in the army, and we thanked our good stars that we were not. The chief, seeing that he had made a good impression on us, would ask us if he fined us each a half-crown, could we afford to pay it. We all replied, "No, sir." How could we on 7/ a day, for that was a trooper's pay at that time. Had we been fined that amount our best girls would have had to have gone with out chocolates. Then the good chief would tell us to clear out of his office, and not to appear before him again. This we did without being told a second time.

Transfers from the Foot to the Mounted were not approved by the Chief Inspector; but some occasionally were through, no doubt, influential friends.


On Guard.

As regular as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, so our chief inspector every night at the first stroke of 9 from the Post Office clock would open his door, step out on to the verandah, and call out, "Who's on guard?" Upon being informed, he would ask the trooper on guard if he had anything to report. If he received a negative reply, he would wish the guard good-night, and go back to his quarters. One night a transferred man from the foot happened to be on guard. The chief asked the usual question, "Who's on guard?' He received the reply, "Me, sir" He called out again, in a sharp and stentorian voice, "Who's on guard," and received the same reply, "Me, sir." No doubt by this time the chief's temper had risen to concert pitch, for he sang out, "Who the hell is me, sir," and from the poor unfortunate guard came the reply, "McInerney from the foot, sir." "Then by God," said the chief, "you should have remained in the foot, sir."


Introduction of the Telephone.

At that period the telephone had not been introduced to South Australia. Some years later it was brought into use, and connected with all the Government institutions. What a wonderful invention we thought it, and without a doubt it has proved to be, for by its means it has brought to justice many criminals, who otherwise would have escaped. A wanted man could not get very far away before all the surrounding stations were at once informed of his description, and movements, and within a short time, with few exceptions, he was caught within the meshes of the law, arrested, and brought to account before the Court. It was some time before some of the men got conversant as how to speak through it. Some would bawl out to the top of their voices under the impression that the speaker at the other end could hear them better.


My First Arrest.

There had been races held on the Old Course, Victoria Park, and we had returned from doing a hard day's duty there. At 9.30 p.m. a report was received at the police barracks that a number of blacks were causing a disturbance to the residents of that vicinity. The barracks master, as senior man, detailed me with two other troopers to go at once and disperse them, or, if under the influence of liquor, to arrest them, and bring them up to the City Watchhouse, when they would be kept in safe custody until they got sober.

Arriving at the scene where the disturbance was, we saw half a dozen aborigine natives with their gins and the notorious Tommy Walker, their king, all more or less drunk, and chattering away like a lot of excited monkeys. Tommy was haranguing and laying down the law on divorce. I asked Tommy what all this row was about. Tommy Walker, who spoke very fair English and was an intelligent blackfellow, for he was frequently in attendance when having a holiday in Adelaide at Mr. Samuel Beddome's levees at the Police Court, replied:

"Well, Sergeant, me tellum all about it. The lubra belong 'um this pfella (pointing to one of the niggers), she gone and walk about with a white pfella, both been get 'um drunk, and she gone away with that pfella and left her husband. He went to follow 'um and waddy 'um. I say, no kill, if white pfella wife run away with 'nother pfella, he get'um divorce, and get'um 'nother wife; I tell 'um get divorce too, plenty young gins. Mr. Beddome, my friend, he give 'um divorce too.'

I said, "Tommy, why you are quite an 'oracle'." He said, "What that, pfella. Sergeant?". "Why, that means that you are a wise man, and I see you know the law, and give 'm good advice" I said. 'No kill white pfella, he get hanged if he do that.

So I said, "Now, be good fellows, get away all to your camps, and no more noise to-night, and you will be able to see Mr. Beddome tomorrow morning, and he will give that pfella a divorce."

We tried our best to shift them, but as they were, as I have said, more or less drunk, we could not get them to budge, for one or two of the turbulent ones were for going after the white fellow and that dreadful hussy the gin, the cause of the trouble, and waddying them. We threatened and coaxed, but it was of no avail. We did not want to be bothered locking them up, as we were anxious to get back to the barracks and our beds, but it was of no use. So we concluded that the only thing to be done with them, as they were too drunk and excited to be amenable to reason, was to take them all up to the City Watch house. The one whose lubra had cleared off with the white fellow, became most obstreperous and declined to go with the rest.

I jumped off the horse, took him by the scruff of the neck, and gave him several introductions to my boot, which had a marvellous and desired effect, for we had no further trouble with him. Tommy Walker said to me. 'Sergeant, that pfella one plurry fool. No talk sense. I replied, "Tommy, you are a philosopher as well as an oracle.'' We delivered our prisoners to the City Watch house, about midnight, after a strenuous day, having been on duty since 5.30 a.m. Thus ended my first arrest.

MEMORIES OF AN OLD POLICE OFFICER. (1925, August 22). The Register (Adelaide, SA : 1901 - 1929), p. 13. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article57287330