15 August 1935

CONVICT'S AUDACIOUS ESCAPE FROM ADELAIDE GAOL 

Bluffed Warders And Walked Out

South Australia's first really substantial gaol — that at Adelaide — was built under the authority of Governor Gawler. The somewhat doubtful honor of being the first prisoner to escape from this building goes to a man named Carter, a convict who had escaped from New South Wales. He succeeded in making his way to South Australia, but here he was captured and lodged in the Adelaide Gaol. 

It happened that even at this early stage, the new gaol, at first thought to be more than adequate, was found to supply insufficient accommodation. 

For this reason another wing was being built, and it was owing to this work that Carter was enabled to escape. He was confined in an inner ward, which was surrounded by a high wall topped with the loose brick-work commonly adopted in prison walls. Outside this was a still higher wall separated from the inner one by a wide passageway, along which guards patrolled day and night. 

All the men imprisoned in the ward where Carter was detained were either runaway convicts or men who were being transported from South Australia; and they were being held until such time as a vessel could be chartered to take them to Sydney. 

Each morning after roll call all the prisoners in the ward were allowed out into the yard to exercise. Being so well secured, no watch was kept over them other than by the guards patrolling round between the double walls. 

Each day the men were required to sweep their cells and the courtyard. For this purpose they were supplied with a strong-long-handled broom. It was found that, in the hands of a tall man, the broom would reach to within four or five feet of the top of the solid portion of the wall. 

Carter, who by some unknown means had managed to obtain a carpenter's linen coat and cap, and also a sheet of paper and a pencil, discussed the chances of escape with his fellow captives. Although the other prisoners believed escape to be almost impossible, they agreed to give Carter what assistance they could. 

Carter immediately donned the carpenter's jacket and cap. With the aid of two of the tallest and strongest prisoners, he was lifted as far as possible up the wall. The long-handled broom was then held above their heads, while Carter, leaning against the wall, stepped on to it. Little by little, the broom, with Carter on top of it, was raised until he was able to secure a grip near the top of the wall. He peered over and watched until the guard had passed beneath him and disappeared round the corner of the yard. 

The most difficult part, however, had still to come; for Carter had to clamber on to the loose stone-work, balance himself, and then reach the stone-paved passage below. Nevertheless, he accomplished this seemingly impossible feat without displacing a single brick from the loose stone work. 

When the guard again came round on his beat a few seconds later, Carter, quite unruffled, was making notes on his sheet of paper. He halted the guard by saying: — "Good day, guard. I am the contractor for additional sentry boxes. I am required to inspect the one you use as a pattern." He then entered the sentry box and made a few more notes; after which he wished the guard a pleasant good day and passed on towards the exit. 

Meeting another guard, he addressed him in a similar manner. On the outer wall, masons were at work. Carter paused for a moment to cast a critical eye over their operations. He then walked across to where two more guards were stationed at the exit. Taking a look at a nearby sentry box he said: "Ah, I have taken the dimensions of the ones inside. I see they are constructed alike."

Dropping the pencil into his pocket, he folded his notes and quietly walked off in the direction of the city. Carter's escape was not discovered until the evening roll-call was made, prior to locking the prisoners in their cells for the night. 

The turnkey, a man named Kennedy, called Carter's name, and received no response. After making a thorough search of the ward he scanned the loose stonework on top of the wall; but, so far as he could see, not a brick was displaced. The prisoners assembled in the yard, seeing the turnkey's bewilderment, started to laugh and jeer. "Perhaps he flew out," they suggested. "You are in for it, Kennedy. You've allowed a prisoner to escape."

The distracted turnkey brought the governor of the gaol, but still no trace of the missing man was discovered. Later, however, some of the prisoners were induced to relate something of the manner in which their companion had escaped. 

Carter made his way towards Wellington. On the way he stole a horse, saddle, and bridle from Mr. Gemmel's station. A trooper stationed at Wellington was notified as to the likelihood of the fugitive making in that direction. 

A few hours after Carter had stolen the horse the trooper fell in with a party of natives who told him of the theft. Following up this information, he succeeded in heading off and capturing Carter before he could cross the Murray, which he had purposed doing by swimming the stolen horse across at a point a little above Wellington. 

Greatly pleased at having made the arrest, the trooper handcuffed Carter and escorted him back to Mr. Gemmel's station. The station-owner was delighted at the prompt recovery of his property, and invited the trooper and his captive to stay and partake of much-needed refreshment before proceeding on the long journey to Adelaide. 

The trooper was pleased to accept his hospitable offer. The prisoner, still handcuffed, had a tempting meal placed before him, and was left alone to eat it. The trooper followed his host into an adjoining room. A few minutes later he glanced out to see that his prisoner was all right; but to his consternation Carter had disappeared.  

The trooper immediately set out in pursuit, but the station being surrounded by scrub, Carter, despite the handcuffs, had succeeded in making a complete getaway. 

On learning of Carter's escape from the trooper, the Commissioner of Police dispatched Serjeant-Major Alford and two troopers to search for him. Realising that the search was likely to prove a lengthy one, they took sufficient rations to last several weeks. They made their way to Mr. Gemmel's station, and proceeded to search the scrub for indications as to the direction taken by the fugitive. 

They then went on to what was known as Tinpot Station, and made enquiries there. Although there was good reason for believing that several of the station hands could have supplied information, none was forthcoming. One of the men openly admitted that had the wanted man been guilty of murder assistance would have been given to the police. 

Taking this as evidence that they were on the right trail, the police pushed on to Mr. Dunn's place at Mount Charles. There the first definite clue was obtained. They were told that a man resembling the one they described had called there asking for work, and had been advised to go on to the South Australian Company's sheep station, where wool pressing was being carried on. On arrival at the company's station they were informed that the man had called the previous day, but no work being obtainable, had decided to go on to Mr. Gilbert's station near Mount Crawford. 

The police pushed on, and late the following day overtook the fugitive at a hut on one of Mr. Gilbert's out-stations. Carter, seeing the police approaching, pretended to be employed in shifting a sheep yard. On finding himself recognised he begged to be given a chance and not to be taken back. But his pleadings proved of no avail. He was handcuffed, and a few days later arrived back in the Adelaide gaol.— A.H.B. 

Drowning The Bailiff

There was no jetty at Streaky Bay in 1869, and all passengers and cargo had to be taken ashore in ships' boats, the vessels themselves being anchored about a quarter of a mile from the shore. 

On one occasion the only passenger on board the schooner Lucy was a bailiff, the first one to visit Streaky Bay, who had come to take possession of one of the hotels. 

Two residents of the district, whom we will call Jim and Dick, decided to have a joke at the bailiff's expense, and they found him sitting in the schooner's boat on the beach, waiting to be taken on board. They asked him if he wished to go on board, and when he said that he did they offered to row him out. 

Jim took the oars, while Dick stood at the stern of the boat alongside the bailiff. When the boat was about 30 yards from the shore Dick collided with the bailiff and knocked him overboard. Jim continued to pull away, while Dick called to the bailiff to come along and he would pull him into the boat. The bailiff waded after the boat until the water was up to his neck, when Jim stopped pulling and Dick hauled him into the boat. He was then taken ashore.

The bailiff was very indignant at the treatment he had received, and as soon as the boat touched the shore he went to the police station to lodge a complaint. Finding no one there he started for the magistrate's house. The magistrate was a very stern man, and Jim and Dick knew that if the bailiff saw him, there would be trouble. 

They therefore intercepted the bailiff and took him to the hotel, where he sat on a form outside for a time. They then persuaded him to go inside and have a drink. While he was doing so, Dick took a jug of water from the bar counter and poured it over his head, telling him not to come to Streaky Bay again.

When the schooner sailed that evening the bailiff sailed with it, but by the time it reached Venus Bay—a day and a half later— he was dead, having died the previous night. 

An inquest was held, and as a result warrants were issued for the arrest of Jim and Dick for murder, for which they were subsequently tried at Adelaide. After a long hearing, at which two doctors gave evidence, they were found not guilty and discharged. The doctor's evidence showed that heart failure was the cause of death. 

The experience, however, was sufficient to cure Jim and Dick of practical joking.— 'Unohoo.' 

Saved By A Dog 

Some years ago while living near Frances I owned a sheep dog called Tom. One Sunday morning I was sitting in the house reading when I heard a peculiar noise outside, but took no notice of it because the book I was reading was very interesting. Soon afterwards, however, my daughter came into the room and said, 'I wish you would have a look at Tom. I think he has gone mad.' 

I went out, and Tom soon made it clear that something was wrong down the road. I told my son to put the horses in the buggy, and then we set out to follow Tom, who led the way down the road at a great pace. About a mile from the house we came across a man lying on the road with a broken leg, having received a kick from a horse. 

After obtaining assistance from a woman neighbor, we set the leg and took the man into Naracoorte, where he was attended to by a doctor. He was able to get about again in about three weeks. I have never been able to discover, although I made many enquiries at the time, just how Tom happened to find the man, or how he knew that he needed assistance. — J. McG. 

An Accommodating Telephone 

A friend of mine recently called on a busy man in the city, and rather overstayed his welcome. 

After he had been talking for some time the telephone on the man's desk rang, and he picked up the receiver. 'In a minute,' he said. 'I will be up there immediately. I am busy with a man at present, but we are about through.' 

My friend started to hurry his last remarks, so as not to delay him, but he forgot himself and talked longer than he intended to. Again the telephone rang. 'All right,' answered the man. Then, turning to his visitor, he said, 'I have an appointment on the floor above that will require me to excuse myself for a few minutes.' He left his desk and disappeared through a door. 

The caller was anxious to say a few words more, so he waited. Several times he thought he heard someone approach the door through which the man had gone, but ten minutes passed without any sign of him. 

My friend walked up and down the floor, and in his journeyings noticed a button at the end of the man's desk where his hand had rested. Without quite knowing why he did so, he touched it, and was surprised to hear the telephone bell ring. Upon examination he found that the telephone was connected with nothing but that button, and realised that the man had rung it just to get rid of him. He therefore decided to wait no longer, and crept out as quickly as possible. — A.D.