Wild times in Gunning - grog, murder, bushrangers and 'blacks' (1830s-80s)

Serena O'Meley
Jun 13, 2021
13 min read

Updated: Aug 15, 2022

‘Red’ John and Bridget Cooper’s Inn

‘Red’ John Cooper was one of the earliest inn keepers in the town of Gunning. He achieved the nickname ‘Red’ due to his unruly temper and red hair. One apocryphal story had him terrifying the wits out of an itinerant minister, Rev. Robert Cartwright, and his company who were forced to stay at the inn as the only licensed place on their route. They were refused tea until Cooper had received his and their insistence on being served led to a contretemps:

The travellers intreated in vain. The wife apologised, assuring them that her husband had only had three brandies that day, and was a little tipsy; if she disobeyed him she would get a thrashing. The Clergyman thought that his sacred office might appeal to the man, but neither that nor his grey hairs protected him from infamous abuse and threats. None of the travellers undressed that night. One of them secured a poker, after being told that the bulldogs were ready for them, and they only had a few minutes to live. They got away safely soon after daylight (reprinted in Windsor and Richmond Gazette, 1 March 1840).

I have searched through the original newspaper from which this story was said to have originated but cannot find any reference to John Cooper. However, the story is consistent with his drunken and abusive behaviour, revealed in other sources.

Cooper had another nickname – ‘Fighting John Cooper’ – and there were questions asked by an anonymous correspondent toThe Colonist about whether he was properly licensed, suggesting that if he were not customers could find themselves “quodded” at the Yass or Goulburn gaols (The Colonist, 16 June 1838).

The editor then goes on to promote the business of a new competitor who was in the process of gaining his license. It seems that a little collusion between the anonymous letter writer and the editor may have been the order of the day.

Whitton gang murders John Kennedy Hume

In the 1830s bushrangers were terrorising the Yass district and news had penetrated the national newspapers:

We have seen a letter from Goulburn, dated October 5th, wherein it states that a band of bushrangers are levying their contributions in the vicinity of Yass and Goulburn, and it further reports that they have robbed the farms of Dr Burke and Mr Reddall; they have also plundered Mr Cooper’s Inn at Gunning (The Australian, 11 October 1838).

Just a few years later and the Whitton gang stopped at the farm of another of my relatives, Elizabeth Woodhouse (4th great-grandmother), to demand supplies, clothes and for their horses to be fed. Her convict servant was ordered to make these arrangements and was also told that he would be expected to guide the bushrangers into Gunning.

In the interim Mrs. W.’s eldest son arrived from seeking after cattle, and before he could dismount, three muskets were levelled at him whereupon Mrs. W. exclaimed, “For God’s sake do not shoot my son!”-had she not spoken, her son would have fallen another victim to their ferocity-an explanation ensued, and one of the robbers cautioned the young man against wearing, in future, either mustachios or strapped trousers, like policemen... (Sydney Monitor and Commercial Advertiser, 27 March 1840).

During these discussions the servant bolted off on one of the horses to warn the residents in Gunning about the pending attack. In his place young Mr Woodhouse was forced to guide the bushrangers to the township of Gunning. What is remarkable about this is Elizabeth Woodhouse and her son lived around 105miles (170km) away from Gunning - in Appin – a rather extraordinary distance for the bushrangers to travel for a raid. By coach this was around one day’s travel. Perhaps the encounter with bushrangers is how Seaphem (Rose) Woodhouse first came to meet John Cooper's daughter, Elizabeth Cooper, whom he would later marry after the death of her first husband.

Initially the bushrangers tried to enter Grovenor’s premises, but well-warned by the convict servant they were unable to get in. After this they went to Cooper’s store and there are a number of slightly different stories written about what unfolded when they arrived. The following is said to be a written account from one of John Kennedy Hume’s daughters, (re)published 100 years after the event:

In the gloaming, after a hot day of hard work in the shearing shed and at the sheep work, Mr. Hume, with his wife and family, were sitting out of doors enjoying the cool evening air, when suddenly reports of guns reached their ears from Gunning, three miles distant. In those days old-fashioned blunderbusses were used, which could be heard at a long distance. Many shots were heard.

My father said, ‘I believe the bush rangers are sticking up Grovenors.’ He suggested to his brother Hamilton — (the explorer) — that they should go to the township. Taking guns, and accompanied by the station hands, they proceeded to the scene of the shooting. They called at Red Cooper’s for a further supply of gunpowder (Windsor and Richmond Gazette, 1 March 1940).

An alternative version written a quarter of a century after the event had the bushrangers already in possession of Cooper’s store for several hours when Hume arrived between eight and nine in the evening. The report said that he was shot by the bushranger Reynolds. Cooper himself was reported to be “planted in the haystack where he remained till morning” and there was no mention of the whereabouts of Cooper’s wife (Goulburn Herald and Chronicle, 4 April 1866).

A contemporaneous account headed, ‘Awful and Outrageous Conduct of Bushrangers’ described Hume’s shooting as follows:

One of those villains immediately asked who Mr. Hume was, the latter made the same inquiry of the villains; the answer he received was a ball from a gun or pistol: the robber perceiving that the poor gentleman was not actually dead, fired a second and third shot, all of which passed through different parts of his body. Mr. Hume’s men were either very great cowards or were badly armed; it is perhaps owing to one or both of these causes that the whole of the bushrangers made their escape.

The account of his death having reached his residence, a cart was despatched for his body, still warm and reeking with blood. Here was a sight for his disconsolate family! – a wife and eight children, the greater number of the latter even being little females, all of whom are now deprived of a father and protector. Mr. John Hume lost his life while endeavouring to assist his neighbour; he may thus be called a martyr to charity (Australasian Chronicle, 28 January 1840).

The writer goes on to chronicle a series of bushranging attacks in the district and laments the failure of the police to apprehend the offenders.

There is not more than one settler in the Lachlan district whose house or station has not been visited and plundered by the party, yet we hear of a border police, mounted police, and all sorts of police, for whose maintenance ample sums are annually voted by the Legislative Council, and for whose maintenance, moreover, the settlers are taxed; and yet Scotchie and Whitton are known to have been at large three years, and their career is one of bloodshed (Australasian Chronicle, 28 January 1840).

Aboriginal men capture Whitton gang member, Marshall

By March of that year two of the Whitton gang bushrangers had been shot dead, two were in Goulburn gaol and one named Marshall had escaped. His liberty was short-lived.

It is with pleasure I now inform you that that ruffian was apprehended a few days ago, by three of the aboriginal tribe of the County King. It appears Marshall has been attempting to organise another troop of murderers, who were said to be runaway convicts, from establishments in the southern extremity of Argyle ; and on the day of his capture he went to an encampment of ‘blacks’ and from the enquiries he made of these “untutored beings,” they, simple as they are considered to be, thought he was a “croppy,” [editorial note: "convict"] and as he was well armed, they (the blacks) consulted amongst themselves how they could manage to “crama gun,” [editorial note: "capture"] then “man croppy,” &c.

Marshall was thrown off his guard by one shrewd blackfellow; who begged for tobacco, and urged him to “smoke pipe ;” he accordingly laid the musket on the ground, while he “kindled the pipe ” the gun was immediately seized by Mr. Blackee, who said, “I believe you one croppy, so come along with me, suppose you no go, I give it to you this,” levelling the piece at the wretch. The three blacks safely escorted the fellow to Goulburn, where he now lies; and no doubt he will reach Sydney in time to be placed on his trial with his companions, Whitton and Reynolds... (Sydney Monitor and Commercial Advertiser, 27 March 1840).

A later account which detailed the bushrangers’ violent rampage through Gunning and the surrounding district gives insight into the likely reason why these Aboriginal men took the risk of marching Marshall into Goulburn at gunpoint:

One black crime stands against them: it is well known that they shot the aborigines for pastime. It is inconceivable to me how any man can sympathise with men of this stamp (Goulburn Herald and Chronicle, 4 April 1866).

Murder of Henry Dunkley by his wife Lucretia and her lover

In 1843 Bridget and John Cooper were called as witnesses in one of the most sensational murders of the day. Henry Dunkley was killed by Martin Beech, aided and abetted by his lover, the victim’s wife, Lucretia. The pair were seen returning early to Dunkley’s home early in the morning looking bedraggled and covered in mud. John Cooper was told by another man that Dunkley was missing, made inquiries of his whereabouts and reported the suspicious circumstances to the local magistrate who arrested the couple and their servant (Sydney Morning Herald, 4 October 1842, Truth, 11 February 1900).

On the morning of Dunkley’s disappearance the pair sent a convict servant several times during the day to purchase bottles of rum from Cooper’s Inn, which was attested to at the trial by Bridget Cooper. After her house was searched by police Lucretia Dunkley confessed the murder to a woman neighbour. John Cooper later discovered the location of the body and helped with the exhumation (Sydney Morning Herald, 8 September 1843).

At trial Lucretia Dunkley’s behaviour was considered especially aberrant:

The conduct of the female prisoner was altogether most hardened, depraved, and extraordinary; for, although on her trial for life, she had the indecency, while standing in that awful situation, with her partner in guilt by her side, and the axe with which the deed was done, with the bloody garments of their victim, and the bed he lay on, spread out before her eyes, to laugh outright when allusions were made by the above and subsequent witnesses to their guilty familiarities. The conduct of the male prisoner was not marked by so much levity, although he distinctly smiled several times on similar allusions being made and his whole demeanour showed great indifference to the result (Sydney Morning Herald, 8 September 1843).

Martin Beech and Lucretia Dunkley were hanged together for the murder on 16 October 1842 and their bodies were handed over to the police surgeon for dissection (Sydney Morning Herald, 19 October 1842). In 1854 their skulls were donated to the Australia Museum, Hyde Park, Sydney along with the foetal skull of Dunkley’s unborn child (Empire, 6 November 1854).

Their skulls were still on public display at the turn of the 20th century along with other skulls of ‘scientific’ interest (Truth, 11 February 1900).

Stabbing of Elizabeth Cooper by Red John

The more I’ve delved into my family history, the more surprised I am that my most immediate family, including me, ever existed. There is such a history of drunken violence dating back five generations to the time when many of my relatives were transported to Australian shores. There are so many points along the way where a direct line relative could easily have died before having children. The most critical point of possible extinction was the near death of my grandmother’s grandmother, Elizabeth Cooper.

On 25 January 1843, John Cooper, was indicted for stabbing his fifteen year old daughter, Elizabeth Cooper, with intent to murder or to do grievous bodily harm.

Elizabeth Cooper was the first witness to testify and she wove a remarkable tale about how she came to be stabbed. She testified that when she put down some bason’s (sic) of soup for her father and mother’s dinner the family cat tried to eat her own meal. Her father threw a knife at the cat, missed and instead cut his daughter through her light print dress.

The true story about the stabbing can be reconstructed from the testimony of other witnesses. When asked by a witness why he stabbed his daughter, Cooper said that she had said a “saucy word” to her mother. The case against him was most likely sealed by the witness who testified that he heard Bridget Cooper run screaming from the Inn, crying out, “for God’s sake come in, for he has murdered my daughter” (Sydney Morning Herald, 13 March 1943).

When the men entered the room they found Elizabeth unconscious and bleeding heavily from her wound. Fortunately, for her (and my family!) a doctor was able to stop the bleeding and saved her life. Witnesses described Cooper’s regretful demeanour and the extent of his drunkenness. It appeared to witnesses that Cooper did not know what he was doing. Perhaps because there was no intent to kill the sentence, though severe, was of moderate length:

The JUDGE then briefly, but impressively addressed the prisoner, and sentenced him to be confined in Sydney Gaol for three years, the first month of each year, and the last month of the last year, in solitary confinement, and the remainder of the term at hard labour (Sydney Morning Herald, 13 March 1843).

For her role in trying to protect her father, Elizabeth Cooper was charged with perjury:

His Honor stated, that he had made every enquiry respecting her and her family, and he was in full possession of all the circumstances connected with her father’s case. Her mother he found was a respectable woman, who endeavoured to do her duty by her children, and to teach them their duty in this world, in order that they might fit themselves for a better; and her mother could only account for the crime of which she, Elizabeth Cooper, had been guilty in swearing to a tissue of falsehoods, by supposing that her father had influenced her either by threats or otherwise; he found that her father however was an habitual drunkard, debased by intoxicating liquors ; that it was after a drunken fit of some three weeks’ duration that, maddened with drink, he had stabbed his child, and had added to that crime, that which she had committed in vainly attempting to save him. Her mother, as he had before said, was respected, and in consequence of her good character, friends had been found who were willing to become answerable for her, Elizabeth Cooper, that she would appear if called upon to take her trial for the offence she had committed (The Sydney Morning Herald, 15 March 1843).

Elizabeth Cooper was brought up and discharged at the next court session (The Australian, 20 March 1843).

The Coopers' Brewery

It appears that after John Cooper was gaoled that the Inn continued to run under the supervision of Bridget Cooper. A month after the hearing she placed an advertisement in the local newspaper calling claimants of a horse in her stable that was presumed to have been stolen. The advertisement said that the horse must be collected with 21 days of the advertisement or it would be sold to defray costs (Sydney Morning Herald, 21 April 1843).

It would be interesting to know if Cooper reformed during his time in gaol. Given the extent of his alcoholism it seems unlikely. On the other hand, I have been unable to find any more records about his criminal or threatening behaviour.

Within months of discharging his prison sentence in 1846, John Cooper opened a brewery in Bessi Street, Yass (Sydney Morning Herald, 10 November 1846). In 1848 John Cooper placed another public notice in the newspaper to advertise that his brewery was “in full operation" (The Goulburn Herald and County of Argyle Advertiser, 9 December 1848).

A year later he “reopened his Brewery Establishment on a more extensive scale” with the claim that his ale was “pronounced by competent judges to be equal to any brewed in the Colony” (Bell’s Life in Sydney and Sporting Reviewer, 13 October 1849).

Final days of John and Bridget Cooper

John Cooper died in in 1868 and his property was sold at public auction in 1871. In terms of property he died a wealthy man including 40 acres of land that was granted to him by the Crown in 1854 and two quarter acre sections of crown land in Biala Street, in the township of Gunning. The proceeds were inherited by the eldest son, John, and Bridget Cooper was named a divisee. The were at least six other children, including the eldest child, Elizabeth who were not named heirs (Goulburn Herald and Chronicle, 11 January 1871). Bridget Cooper died in 1882. An impressive headstone marks their grave.

Headstone John Cooper - died 27 Jan 1868 aged 67 years, Bridget Cooper - died 19 May 1882) aged 78 years

Photo credit: Terry Mason

Gunning Catholic Cemetery

LOT 190 Collector Rd

Gunning, New South Wales

Australia

* Note on the building

11 July 2021.

According to the Upper Lachlan Shire Community Heritage Study, Part 3, 2007-2008, p.143: "Caxton House was formerly the residence of John Cooper, and later owned by the Wilson and Newman families" and "Caxton Cottage was erected at the same time as Caxton House for John Cooper. The single storey granite building was a commercial retail outlet."

Local historian and former resident of the house for 25 years, Michael Coley, has questioned whether John and Bridget Cooper lived in the house. He states:

"First, what is now Caxton House was primarily built in two stages (forget about the veranda, that’s much later - 1922); the first stage is the rear of the current house, probably built in the 1840s at the same time as the Cottage next door, the second, built of different materials, was built in the 1860s. My second issue, and I don’t have a definite answer, was when the building got its name; the first mention I can find is the 1895 will. ...

My records show that three Coopers, John, Daniel and Thomas, owned the land between 13 September 1838, when John bought it, and 1853, when Thomas sold it to James Downes. Of course, this record is of the land, and my 1860s conclusion is based on the change in value of the land, a brick dated 1869 from WJ Wilson, and the change in materials from rubble at the back to blocks on the front." ( Gunning & District Historical Society Facebook page (14 June 2021).

Daniel and Thomas were John Cooper's brothers. Given that the House was built in stages it is possible that they lived in the single story building which later became two separate properties.

Wild times in Gunning - grog, murder, bushrangers and 'blacks' (1830s-80s)

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