To Preserve and Protect: Policing Colonial Brisbane

By Anastasia Dukova

Early Australian policing had its roots on the streets of Dublin and London, where many of Australia's first law and order enforcers hailed from. Intrigued by this connection, historian Anastasia Dukova has researched and recreated the lives of colonial police officers and criminals in her adopted home city of Brisbane. Through exploring their personal stories, Dukova highlights how biography and history are inextricably linked and reveals the differences between metropolitan aspirations and colonial reality. To Preserve and Protect exposes political power abuse, corruption, mismanagement, professional burnout, and gendered justice, issues which continue to challenge police forces.

• Language: English
• Publisher: University of Queensland Press
• Release date: Sep 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9780702262296

Book preview

Anastasia Dukova holds a PhD in crime and policing history from the University of Dublin, Trinity College. She is a member of the Irish Association of Professional Historians and the Professional Historians Association (Queensland). Her research on nineteenth-century Irish and Australian policing history and historical criminology has been published widely, and her doctoral and postdoctoral findings were published in 2016 as A History of the Dublin Metropolitan Police and its Colonial Legacy in Palgrave Macmillan’s World Histories of Crime, Culture and Violence series. She has held fellowships with the State Library of Queensland, Harry Gentle Resource Centre and Griffith Criminology Institute, as well as a postdoctoral fellowship at the University of Toronto and a postgraduate scholarship with the Irish Research Council. Anastasia is a partner investigator on an Australian Research Council Discovery Project that investigates the policing of migrant communities in Britain and Australia throughout the twentieth century (DP180102200). She also lends her historical crime and policing expertise to public and professional lectures, as well as popular history projects such as Century Ireland, RTÉ and Who Do You Think You Are?

Contents

Foreword by Queensland Police Commissioner Katarina Carroll, APM

Introduction

1 Ex-Convict to Policeman: Peter ‘Duff’ Murphy

2 A Career Policeman: Samuel Sneyd

3 Queensland’s First Detective: Samuel Lloyd

4 Beat Policing: Thomas Tyrrell

5 Policing Female Criminality: Susan McGowan

6 Policemen as Prosecutors: James Nethercote

7 Habitual Offending and Punishment: Charles ‘Dubious’ Durant

Conclusion

Acknowledgements

Appendix A: Queensland Police Officers – 1828 to 1863

Appendix B: Queensland Police Officers – 1864 to 1900

Appendix C: Brisbane Night Duty Beats

Notes

Index

Foreword

by Queensland Police Commissioner Katarina Carroll, APM

Brisbane had its

own police well before the Queensland Police Force was centrally organised in 1863 with the first constables taking to the streets on 1 January 1864. Some of the founding fathers of Brisbane’s early police were originally convicts who, through their model behaviour, were charged with the role of protecting the community.

The individuals who embodied the colonial police institution are at the forefront of this book, but the narrative would not be complete without the life stories of the community, the policed. The pages of To Preserve and Protect provide a rare opportunity to showcase the progress of our organisation and the transition from convict police to the professional, centrally organised institution.

These colonial stories are vitally important for our organisation to remember and celebrate as they map our heritage and journey over the past two centuries.

This book also illustrates the crucial changes and developments that have shaped our organisation over the past 155 years. I am proud to reflect on the unique Brisbane policing history and acknowledge our journey.

Today, the Queensland Police Service has grown into one of the largest police services in the world and witnessed a great deal of change since the colonial days, but the principles of community safety, crime prevention, preservation of peace, and protection of life and property remain at our core.

Introduction

OATH – I do swear that I will well and truly serve our Sovereign Lady the Queen in the office of constable, without favor or affection, malice or ill-will, for the period of one year from this date, and until I am legally discharged; that I will see and cause Her Majesty’s peace to be kept and preserved, and that I will prevent, to the best of my power, all offences against the same; and that while I shall continue to hold the said office I will, to the best of my skill and knowledge, discharge all the duties thereof faithfully, according to law – So help me God.

‘Oath’, Rules for the General Government and Discipline of Members of the Police Force of Queensland ¹

The first chief

constable of the ‘Edenglassie’ police, John McIntosh, arrived in Moreton Bay in 1828.² McIntosh, a 24-year-old from Glasgow, Scotland, had been transported to New South Wales in 1814 after being sentenced to penal servitude for life. In 1826, following an unsuccessful term as a superintendent of convicts in Liverpool, McIntosh was investigated and found guilty of gross irregularities, and lost his ticket of leave (a form of parole).³ Two years later, he earned another ticket of leave and was appointed chief constable of the local police. McIntosh’s story is surprising but not unusual within the early Australian colonial context. In 1789, the first Sydney police, a form of night watch, were organised in response to the theft of stores by several marines. This initial force in Sydney was staffed and headed by the local convicts, and the first chief constable of Sydney, Henry Kable, was a transportee from England who was convicted of burglary and initially sentenced to death by hanging.

This book is a study of the police of Brisbane from 1828 to the early 1900s. It examines the individuals and the institution, and traces the transition from convict police to the professional, centrally organised Queensland Police Force. As twentieth-century sociologist C Wright Mills shows, individuals and society, biography and history are inextricably linked: an individual ‘lives out a biography, and lives it out within some historical sequence. By the fact of this living, [the individual] contributes, however minutely, to the shaping of this society and to the course of history, even as [they are] made by society and by its historical push and shove.’⁴ This book explores the inner life and external career of a variety of individuals, including colonial police officers Peter ‘Duff’ Murphy, Samuel Sneyd, Samuel Lloyd, Thomas Tyrrell and James Nethercote, as well as the criminals they policed, such as Susan McGowan and Charles Durant. By recreating the biographies of these individuals and placing them within the wider setting of the police organisation and the society it served, this book reveals how the colonial society both formed and was formed by the individuals within it.⁵

In its essence, this book is a history of interactions between the police and the policed. By drawing on police court witness statements and expert testimonies, internal departmental correspondence, newspaper editorials and memoirs, To Preserve and Protect offers a glimpse into the daily lives of nineteenth-century Brisbanites, their experience of the city’s bustling street life and their all too frequent run-ins with the law.

Prior to the organisation of the civilian convict police, enforcement of law and order in the convict settlement of Moreton Bay was the duty of the military commandants. The Military Mounted Police were organised by Sir Thomas Brisbane, the governor of New South Wales, in 1825 and consisted of soldiers from colonial garrisons armed with sabres, pistols and carbines. The penal settlement was established in 1824 ‘to provide a place of security and subsistence for runaways from Port Macquarie’.⁶ By April 1825, Moreton Bay had received 36 prisoners, 26 of whom had moved to the settlement voluntarily.⁷ Initially, explorer John Oxley and Military Commandant Lieutenant Henry Miller chose ‘Red Cliff Point’ for the site of the new settlement, but, in May 1825, it was moved to the river mouth at Breakfast Creek. An early Brisbanite described the river banks as ‘lined with foliage whose beauty it were almost impossible to describe’, but this ‘veritable garden of Eden’ was the site of a brutal convict system.⁸ The iconic Australian folk ballad Moreton Bay evokes a bleak image of the settlement.⁹ The words convey the isolation and terrible fate prisoners suffered, and compares the conditions of sentences served at Port Macquarie, Norfolk Island, Emu Plains, Castle Hill and ‘cursed Toongabbie’. It singles out Moreton Bay as the worst of them:

At all those settlements I’ve worked in chains

But of all places of condemnation,

And penal stations of New South Wales,

To Moreton Bay I have found no equal:

Excessive tyranny each day prevails.

For three long years I was beastly treated,

And heavy irons on my legs I wore;

My back with flogging is lacerated,

And often painted with crimson gore.

And many a man from downright starvation

Lies mouldering now underneath the clay,

And Captain Logan he had us mangled

At the triangles of Moreton Bay.¹⁰

Captain Patrick Logan, a veteran soldier from Scotland, was appointed to command the convict settlement in 1826. Logan was reputedly a harsh disciplinarian who freely imposed corporal punishment, and he was despised by the convicts he controlled. The severity of the sentences he pronounced increased over his years commanding the settlement, and, in 1828, he sentenced several men to 200 lashes each.¹¹ Logan’s successor, James Oliphant Clunie (commander from 1830 to 1835), another Scotsman with extensive experience on the battlefield, surpassed him in brutality by once sentencing a convict to 300 lashes for stealing a horse. Chief Constable John McIntosh, whose term partially coincided with Clunie’s appointment as the settlement’s commandant, remained in Brisbane until 1833 when he received permission to return to Sydney.¹²

In 1833, Richard Bottington (also Bettingten or Bellington) took over the command of the Brisbane Police. Like McIntosh, Bottington had been a convict transported from Surrey in 1818 on the John Berry (1), and he was re-convicted in Sydney in 1827 for bigamy. He in turn was succeeded by William Whyte in 1836. Whyte was a free man, an officer of the 57th Regiment, who became overseer at Moreton Bay ‘after he suffered financial ruin on his farm in Van Diemen’s Land’.¹³ Prior to his appointment with the police, Whyte was the commandant’s clerk and postmaster, as regulations at the time prohibited convicts from serving in the former capacity.

The town’s Police Act of 1838 (2 Vic., no. 2) officially codified a variety of common behaviours as criminal and regulated the police response to them. Following the promulgation of the Act, the majority of daily activities in the settlement were regulated; these ranged from damaging a public building to extinguishing a street lamp, and from bathing near or within view of a public wharf to allowing animals to stray.¹⁴ At this time, the settlement had ‘no streets, and nothing that could by any stretch of the imagination, be tortured into a town’.¹⁵ The Police Act of 1838 also provided for the appointment of police magistrates and justices to suppress riots, tumults and affrays. However, the Act lacked provisions for custodial sentencing as a form of punishment, as there was no local jail.

The Moreton Bay penal settlement closed in 1842 and the area was thrown open to free settlement. By this stage, the convict police were living out their last days as the general perception was that there was ‘too much of a fellow-feeling’ between the police and the policed.¹⁶ As free immigrants started to arrive in large numbers, there was opposition to appointing convicts and ex-convicts to the police force. Despite the anti-convict attitudes, as late as the 1860s, transportees still made up over 10 per cent of the general male population in Queensland.¹⁷ In 1843, the convict police were reorganised and Chief Constable William Fitzpatrick and four ordinary constables (Martin Higgins, Jeremiah Scanlon, James Ramsay/Ramsey and John McGrath) were appointed and equipped with muskets, pistols and ammunition.¹⁸ Before his appointment as chief constable of the Brisbane force, Fitzpatrick had been assistant superintendent of the Sydney Police. He was favoured for the Brisbane position over Port Macquarie District Constable, and ex-convict, Peter ‘Duff’ Murphy.

Prior to the establishment of An Act to Consolidate and Amend the Laws Relating to the Police Force (1863), also known as the Queensland Police Act, the territory outside of the Brisbane police district, also known as the Northern Districts of New South Wales, was patrolled by a variety of organised volunteer paramilitary groups, both cavalry and infantry. The men in these groups were identifiable by their uniforms: the ‘Brisbane Volunteers’ cavalry wore grey uniforms with black facings and the infantry wore green uniforms with red facings.¹⁹ As the colonial population grew and expanded further outside the Brisbane district, the policing network also expanded and specialised forces were formed. These included the Water Police Force (1840–53), which controlled the river traffic, ships and boats moored at Moreton Bay; the Native Police or Mounted Aboriginal Police (1848–59), which operated primarily in northern New South Wales (now Queensland); and the Border Police (1839–46), which was responsible for policing land regulations in the remote districts.²⁰ None of these forces performed a preventative policing role by using police presence to deter crime; instead, these paramilitary groups carried out reactionary and retaliatory actions against Aboriginal Australians and bushrangers.²¹ In his study of the Native Police, The Secret War: A true history of Queensland’s Native Police, Jonathan Richards narrates a detailed history of the atrocities committed by the Native Police and the critical role they played in the dispossession of the Indigenous peoples in Australia. Richards argues that the Native Police were a key part of a ‘divide and rule’ colonising tactic.²²

Indigenous historian Ray Kerkhove shows that Aboriginal camps were still occupied well into the 1870s and even 1900s. He maintains the sites are still present within the ‘layout of modern town camps’ and shows how these sites underpin the development of most Australian urban settlements. He also explains how many present-day urban roads follow Aboriginal pathways, and suburban placenames are drawn from ancient living areas. In southern Queensland, vital communal areas such as ‘water reserves and green spaces’ are often found to be ‘relics of camping grounds’. Further, many central business districts have grown ‘from colonial interactions with important Aboriginal base camps.’²³

The centralised Queensland Police Force was formally organised four years after the colony separated from New South Wales when the Queensland Police Act came into effect in 1863.²⁴ At this time, the settled area of the colony was divided into 17 districts, each with its own police force under a chief constable who took orders from the local magistrate. The magistrates performed a dual role as prosecutors and adjudicators, which left ample room for corruption and abuse of power. This corruption continued to be part of the local state and police governance for decades to come until it was exposed by the Fitzgerald Inquiry in 1988. Mark Finnane’s Policing in Australia: Historical perspectives and Police and Government: Histories of policing in Australia offer a wide-lens history of policing in Australia from its inception in the mid-nineteenth century to the peak in corruption scandals during the 1980s and 1990s.²⁵ His works deliver a new perspective on policing as a fundamental responsibility of government and break down the police–government relationship into three aspects: police and the executive, police and the public, and police self-governance. Prior to the reforms recommended by the Fitzgerald Report in 1989, police organisations were an extension of the government and vice versa, which led to abuse of power on both executive and community levels despite the progressive principles of reciprocal obligations both social organisations were founded on.

In the first quarter of the nineteenth century, there was general resistance to the idea of a police force as this type of organisation continued to be equated with military control. As police historian David Taylor describes, ‘even when the principle won more general support there was considerable debate about the precise form and nature of the new police’.²⁶ The structure of policing that finally came into being ‘was a product of compromise’ and can be analysed through three theoretical perspectives proposed by Taylor: orthodox, revisionist and synthetic. The orthodox theory views the new police as a response to the collapse of law and order, and as responsible for enforcing the law and maintaining appropriate societal discipline. The revisionist approach examines the social and economic context of historical developments where the new police were seen as agents of social control whose responsibilities transcended the scope limited by the basic definition of criminality. The synthetic theory argues that the police had succeeded in finding its niche within the social structure and secured a degree of legitimacy.²⁷ The new organised police thus received discretionary powers to exercise their authority ‘to detect and prevent crime’ as well as to regulate social norms and behaviours by maintaining ‘a constant unceasing pressure of surveillance upon all facets of life in working-class communities’.²⁸ This surveillance included monitoring and reporting on the activities of trade unions and public political opinions, as well as recreational activities undertaken by citizens in public places.

The nineteenth century saw the formation and transformation of policing and legal systems in the British Isles and across the Empire. The line of duty of the colonial city-beat policeman was as extensive and diverse as that of a Dublin or London bobby.²⁹ It included an array of responsibilities, which ranged from enforcing trading hours to traffic control, and from carrying out arrests to recovering missing children. In his detailed study of the Melbourne Police, The Beat: Policing a Victorian city, Dean Wilson successfully relates the intricacies of police service in the city, the difficulties of beat duty and, more often than not, the precarious nature of the police–public relationship, especially within an urban environment.³⁰ The colonial capitals were bustling centres of trade and business, with rapidly expanding populations policed by the metropolitan units of the colonial forces. Contrary to the paramilitary squads that patrolled the frontier, the city constable was ‘little more than a citizen in uniform’, or a bobby on a beat.³¹

Chapter One of this book chronicles Peter ‘Duff’ Murphy’s journey from a juvenile recidivist thief sentenced to transportation for life to a district constable in Brisbane. Murphy was among a handful of men who formed the first convict police forces across New South Wales. This chapter also traces the development of organised policing from 1780s Ireland to post-convict colonial settlement in Brisbane, as well as the impact of transportation on the changing community.

Chapter Two follows the long-running career of public servant Samuel Sneyd, who emigrated from England as a guard on a convict ship bound for Sydney in 1832. By the time he took command of the Brisbane Police in the 1850s, Brisbane town was a rapidly expanding settlement with its own police comprised of free men. Fears of growing power abuse by the local magistrates during this time led to the reorganisation of the colony’s police administrative structure, which effectively ended the domination of the police force by the magistracy. Sneyd resigned after three decades of colonial police service and took up the appointment of jailer at the new Brisbane Gaol on Petrie Terrace. His career change coincided with Queensland’s separation from New South Wales and marked a new chapter in Brisbane’s policing history.

Chapter Three traces the life and service of Brisbane’s first detective, Samuel Lloyd, a gentleman’s son from Cork who immigrated to Victoria in the early 1850s and joined the local police. In 1859, Queensland gained political independence, but it inherited a policing system in need of reform and weary of power abuse propagated by the local magistracy. Having debated the police systems across the British dominions, the Queensland Parliament settled on emulating Irish or Victorian policing organisations. Detective Constable Lloyd was ‘headhunted’ by the Queensland force to take charge of the Queensland Police Detective Office in 1864, an early example of routine personnel exchange between the Australian colonial forces and overseas organisations.

Chapter Four follows Constable Thomas Tyrrell, who immigrated to Brisbane from Ireland, where he had been a policeman. He applied to join the local force in 1864, and was sworn in early the following year when he was 28 years old. Recruitment and training at the time took place in Brisbane at the Police Depot. Candidates for the Queensland force had to be single men under the age of 30 (or 35 if they had previous service experience). They had to be ‘of good character for honesty fidelity and activity’, not been convicted of any felony, nor be a hired servant, and they could not have kept ‘a house for the sale of beer wine or spirituous liquors by retail’.³² This chapter also examines how police regulations were constructed to instil obedience and order. Foot constables’ duty was to ensure the town laws were enforced by continuous, and often arduous, presence on the streets on day and night beats, with each beat committed to the care of a constable. Police court reports from the time show charges for assault and ‘drunk and disorderlies’ of both men and women ensured policemen’s hands were full.

Chapter Five focuses on the life of Susan McGowan, a young woman of ‘negotiable affections’. Between 1880 and 1890, she made 29 appearances in the police court and prison records. She was regularly arrested for using obscene language or for drunk and disorderly behaviour. In addition to crime prevention, the role of police organisations in the Victorian era was morality policing. A female offender, or ‘immoral’ woman, was perceived as offending against the law as well as against her nature of being a caregiver and moral guardian. As a result, women committing offences that were deemed an affront to femininity were judged differently, and more harshly, than men.

Chapter Six explores the standardisation of the judiciary and prosecutions, as well as the professionalisation of the police, in response to the eighteenth-century ‘new science’ of policing. In the late 1800s, following a series of reforms influenced by the concepts of prevention, utilitarianism, humanism and morality popularised by the English and Scottish enlightenments, victims of crimes could turn to the organised police for detection, apprehension and prosecution of the offender at no charge, with the financial burden carried by local taxpayers.³³ A century before, such avenues for retribution did not exist. This chapter traces the development of the judicial system, its growth in complexity and the role of the police as prosecutors under the Common Law representation system. James Nethercote, formerly of the Bradford Borough Police Force in Yorkshire, was sworn in in 1876 and, for the next three decades, he made consistent and numerous appearances in the city police court by supporting, and later prosecuting, a range of offences, which exemplifies the change in public prosecution practices.

Chapter Seven examines the history of crime and punishment, as well as penal reforms and the medicalisation of deviancy. Throughout the 1830s, the rise in popularity of phrenology and other (pseudo-)scientific concepts aided the change of perception of criminality as a choice to a moral deficiency or natural deviancy. The life of Charles ‘Dubious’ Durant, one of Queensland’s hardened recidivists who spent the better part of his life behind bars, reflects the changing attitudes to criminality and criminal experience during this period. He experienced all of the major penal establishments, police jails and lock-ups of the colony as they changed and adapted to suit the changes in prosecution practices, including panopticon-styled buildings, solitary confinement cells and public works.

The Conclusion reviews the changes in approach to urban policing in colonial Brisbane over the course of the nineteenth century. It also charts the early-twentieth-century technological and scientific innovations, such as the emergence of forensics and wireless communication, that influenced policing practices and transformed policing into a professional scientific enterprise. Further, this chapter connects the principles of modern policing with the philosophers of the Age of Enlightenment.

The historical material in this book draws from a wide variety of repositories that tell the stories of individuals, such as birth, death, marriage and immigration records, as well as sources that re-create institutional histories, such as police and penal departmental records, personnel files, colonial statistical tables, government correspondence and reports, almanacs, diaries, memoirs and newspapers. Appendix A and Appendix B list all police officers who served in the Moreton Bay Penal Colony, Brisbane and Ipswich from 1828 to 1900. Combined, this material creates a personal history of policing in colonial Brisbane. Most people see social issues through biography; that is, our personal point of view. However, we also must understand how history and social structures, such as family, education and religion, as well as economic, political and legal systems, affect the individual. By taking both micro and macro approaches to the history of policing colonial Brisbane, To Preserve and Protect reveals a clearer picture of the police institution and its place within colonial society. Through these lenses, the book also explores the differences between metropolitan aspirations and colonial reality. The case studies presented in this book highlight how, despite the reforms in the 1800s, issues such as political power abuse, professional burnout, mistreatment of patrol constables, moralising and gendered justice, corruption, and mismanagement of prisons persisted in an organisation tasked to preserve and protect.

Government Printer, Brisbane, 1869, p. 9.

Brisbane was eventually chosen over Edenglassie as the name of the colonial settlement; John McIntosh, a watch and clock maker by trade, arrived in New South Wales in February 1814 on General Hewitt. He was a short man (5 feet 5 inches tall), of pale complexion with light brown hair and hazel eyes, and had a scar under his left ear. McIntosh eventually moved to the Moreton Bay penal settlement and married Christiana Ferris, also a transportee, who was

Reviews for To Preserve and Protect

[ashley grant · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I couldn’t put it down! Very engaging and interesting read.

[Damien Brown · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Loved it, super detailed and compelling story from a different age.