14 November 1935

HOW DID QUEEN OLGA DIE?

Mystery That Was Never Solved

Several years ago there arrived at a small town near the Victorian border a patty of gipsies. They had with them two motor cars, one of which was an excellent-looking sedan. They camped within a short distance of the town, where, they gave it to be understood, they intended staying for a few days.

In keeping with tradition, they proved remarkably adept in the art of securing an easy living. Their chief prey were tradespeople, and their modus operandi simplicity itself. Several gipsies would enter a shop together. While one or two of them attracted the shopkeeper's attention, the others would find means of securing various articles that happened to take their fancy.

The gipsies also earned an 'honest penny' by fortune-telling. Their chief medium in practicing the occult was a middle-aged gipsy, known as 'Queen Olga.' However, it is extremely doubtful whether Queen Olga's gift enabled her to foresee her own tragic end in this peaceful Australian village. Of all the troupe, Queen Olga appeared to be the most financial. She owned the sedan car, and it was also known to the other gipsies that she was in possession of a large amount of money. Queen Olga was married to another member of the party; a gipsy much younger than herself.

Also with them was a daughter of Queen Olga from a previous marriage. The girl was dark and attractive, with all the grace and beauty that goes hand in hand with a life of health and freedom. It is known that the man was infatuated by his stepdaughter; what is not quite so clear is the attitude adopted by Queen Olga.

Shortly after their arrival in the town, Queen Olga's husband ap proached the leading storekeeper, and asked to see some guns. The storekeeper had none in stock. The gipsy then asked him to send to the city and have a gun sent down immediately. Knowing that by the time a gun could be procured, the gipsies would in all likelihood be miles away, the storekeeper refused. After arguing for a while, the man wished to know whether there was anyone from whom he could borrow a gun, but the storekeeper said that he could not suggest anyone. The gipsy then left the shop and started making enquiries around the town. Eventually, after declaring that he wanted to destroy a dog, and that he only required the loan for a few hours, he succeeded in borrowing a double-barrel shotgun. He returned to the store and purchased a supply of cartridges.

A little later the township was disturbed from its usual state of peacefulness by the news that Queen Olga had been shot, and that circumstances pointed to foul play. The local constable was on the spot almost immediately. His questionings revealed that Queen Olga and her husband had been a short distance from the camp when the tragedy had occurred. According to the husband, he and his wife had been together, but he had started to walk away from her, when, suddenly, she had seized the gun, and, placing it in her mouth, had pulled the trigger. She had been killed instantly, and the police had been notified immediately.

During the course of his investigations the constable decided to make a search of the sedan car. He lifted the cushion of the seat, and to his astonishment, a large bundle of notes was revealed. On these being counted, prior to locking them away in the safe of the local store, there was found to be the sum of £450. Taken in conjunction with the fact, of his having borrowed the gun, and his infatuation for the dead woman's daughter, the finding of this large amount of money cast the gravest suspicions on Queen Olga's husband. He was charged with having murdered his wife, and placed under arrest.

Detectives arrived and made, a thorough investigation. They found that at the time the shot was fired, several gipsy children had been within a few yards of the spot where the body was found. By all known means: by gentle persuasion and threats of imprisonment, the detectives endeavored to extract evidence from the children. To questions and threats alike, the children preserved a stoical calmness and declared that they knew nothing. Even when threatened with a sound thrashing their only reply was: — 'We don't know nothing.'

The prisoner kept to his original story, and despite all efforts to confuse him he refused to be shaken. Nothing could be found to indicate that the dead woman had contemplated taking her own life; in fact, there was much to indicate that she definitely had not. Few would have been found who believed in the prisoner's innocence, but despite the weight of evidence against him, there was one baffling point in his favor. This was the fact that, before being fired; the gun had actually been placed in the victim's mouth. That such had been the case was obvious, for there were no signs of burnt powder on her face, as would have been the result if the gun had been fired from a close range. There were no indications of a struggle, and no marks of violence on body, lips or teeth as must inevitably have resulted had the gun been forced between the victim's jaws.

Various theories were suggested. Some declared that the woman had been shot while sleeping with her mouth open. Others clung to the more imaginative theory that she had been hypnotised and induced to commit suicide while under the 'influence.' Despite all the circumstantial evidence against him, not a single tangible clue could be produced against the suspect, and in due course, he stepped from the dock, a free man.

Queen Olga was laid to rest in the peaceful little cemetery of the town where she met her fate. Shortly before her burial, one of the gipsies approached the local constable and said that as it was one of their old customs, he would like to place some money in the coffin with the body. The constable declared that he thought it an excellent idea, and suggested that for safety's sake, the money could be paid to him, and he would write out a cheque for the amount to be buried.

As soon as the trial was ended, the gipsies moved on, but without the sedan, car or the £450. Later, word came back that Queen Olga's husband had married his ex-step-daughter.

Many months later, another gipsy arrived in the town. She approached the previously-mentioned storekeeper and requested that he should guide her to her late sister's resting place. She explained that in accordance with their customs, she wished to put some wine on the grave. She produced two bottles of excellent wine, and under the impression that she intended burying these in the cemetery, the storekeeper declared himself only too willing to be of assistance. He led the gipsy to the cemetery, but, on arrived there, found that he had quite forgotten which of the mounds was that occupied by Queen Olga. However, deciding that if he could not tell, it was a certainty that the stranger could not either, he pointed to the nearest grass-covered mound as her resting place. Without further ceremony, his companion uncorked a bottle of wine, and started to pour the contents over the grave. Tears sprang into the storekeeper's eyes at this touching act of reverence. His companion noticed his emotion, and said: — 'Poor Olga! She was very fond of wine.' The storekeeper wiped his eyes and said:— 'Was she? By Jove, so am I.' The gipsy did not take the hint, and started to uncork the second bottle. In the stress of great emotion, the store keeper gripped her arm. 'Don't you think,' he asked, 'that if we were to drink the wine and bury the bottles, that would be a much better idea?' The gipsy shook her head, and started to empty the second bottle of wine on to the grave. 'Surely,' pleaded the storekeeper, 'Olga would not mind us having a little drink 'with her. Let's drink health.' The last of the wine gurgled from the bottle as the gipsy replied:— 'It is not good that the living should drink with the dead.' 'Well then, we've done no wrongs said the storekeeper sadly, as he turned and left the graveyard.

It was not until some months later that he happened to again visit the cemetery with a friend. He pointed out where Queen Olga's sister had emptied two bottles of good red wine. 'Good heavens'' said his friend. 'That grave! Why man, that's where old Mrs. (naming a lady who during life had been one of the town's staunchest prohibitionists) is buried.— A.H.B.

Laughing Jacks And Snakes

Since early childhood I have known that kookaburras are protected, the reason given being that they kill snakes. Although I lived in the country for some years, I have yet to witness the spectacle of one dealing with a reptile.

Hearing a commotion among the birds one day, I walked over to the spot to ascertain the reason. High in the branches of a tree I saw a carpet snake, about five feet long, with a soldier bird in its mouth. A number of other birds were making very guarded efforts to force the snake to release its hold, but without effect. Upon the arrival of a pair of laughing Jacks I expected to see the extermination of that snake, but I was disappointed. They enjoyed a hearty laugh, but, beyond that, they took no part in the affair whatsoever.

Next on the scene were a pair of butcher birds, full of courage and fight. After a few vicious attacks by this pair, who registered a direct hit each time, the snake released its victim, and sought the shelter of a hollow limb. Apparently little the worse for its experience, the soldier bird flew into a tree nearby. Now, has Jack won his reputation and protection on his merits or otherwise?— J.R.

Another Ghost Laid

About 20 years ago I was camped in a hut several miles from any other habitation. One night as I was returning from work, after having fed and hobbled my horse, I saw a huge 'ghost' behind a tree. It was nearly dark, so I could not see what the object really was. I felt fairly frightened, but remembered that I had a rifle at the hut. I therefore made for the house as fast as I could. I found the rifle, but could not discover any cartridges. I searched the hut without success, and then I suddenly remembered that one of the station hands had called earlier that day and borrowed all I had.

Although I felt rather weak at the knees, I plucked up courage and decided to face the ghost. I therefore went out and picked up a few big stones in one hand and an iron bar in the other. I made my way to-wards the tree, where I had seen the ghost, and when I was about ten yards from it, I threw the bar, which hit the tree and frightened the supposed ghost.

My surprise, and relief can easily be imagined when a big white bullock jumped up and ran off towards the creek. I recognised it as one that had been missing from the station for several days. When I came to think about the incident afterwards, I was pleased that no one but myself had any idea of how that ghost had frightened me, and how relieved I was when I discovered what it really was.— J.B.

Churches With Chimneys

We have experienced some very cold weather this year, and a friend, whom I had not seen at church for some time, gave that as his reason for not attending. He added, I wonder why they don't warm churches. Have you ever heard of a church with a fire place?'

I told him that I had, as far back as I could remember in my childhood days. The little, quaint, old-fashioned church at Harrowgate, situated about 35 miles east of Adelaide, was built between 70 and 80 years ago. It is still used as a place of worship, and was also used as a day school room until about 30 years ago. My father was one that worked hard to get a new schoolhouse built. He was ably assisted by Mr. Appleton, an old pioneer of Harrowgate, and Mr. Robert Caldwell, M.P. We children were all thrilled to have a school room of our own, and to know that we would not have church in it. I well remember the roaring fires we used to enjoy on cold days.

There is also an Anglican Church at Poonindie, situated about ten miles from Port Lincoln on the main north road, which has a fireplace in it. This is quite an historic building, as it was built about 70 years ago as a church for the mission station. It is a two-storey building, and the fire place is in the upper room, which was used as a schoolroom. I believe that Canon Dempster was the last school master there. As far as I know, these are the only churches in the State with chimneys. Both are in fairly good repair considering their age. I wonder if any other readers of real life stories know of any others.— E.H., Brooker.

Real Life Stories Of South Australia (1935, November 14). Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 - 1954), p. 13. http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article92328587