Way We Were: How local convicts ended up on right side of law

When free settlers began arriving after the Moreton Bay penal colony closed in 1842 they, understandably, weren’t keen on convicts and ex-convicts being in charge of law and order, yet that’s exactly what happened, writes Dot Whittington.

Pineapple Hotel Kangaroo Point est.1864.

When free settlers began arriving after the Moreton Bay penal colony closed in 1842 they, understandably, weren’t keen on convicts and ex-convicts being in charge of law and order.

But like it or not, transportees would account for more than 10 per cent of the general male population in Queensland for almost another two decades, and if there were to be policemen, it was inevitable some would be former convicts. Among them was Irishman Peter “Duff” Murphy who, against all odds, graduated from thief on the seedy streets of Dublin to Brisbane policeman and respected colonist.

Murphy, according to historian Anastasia Dukova in her new book about policing in colonial Queensland, was a common Irish surname. The “Duff” was added to his records to distinguish him by his dark hair and eyes. It derives from the Gaelic dubh, meaning dark or black.

A steamer passes Kangaroo Point leaving the pre-story bridge port of Brisbane at the end of the 19th century.

His story begins in 1806, when he was born into a working-class Catholic family in the impoverished and incongruously-named Spring Gardens, locally known as Mud Island.

He became a plasterer but turned to crime, like many others, to survive economic hardship, extremely cold winters and a succession of poor harvests.

His first arrest was at 15, for stealing clothes but his fate was sealed in 1826, when with 13-year-old Christopher Monks, he was indicted for house breaking and stealing. The pair abandoned their loot as they escaped but were found guilty of robbery and sentenced to transportation to Australia for life. They were among 1257 men and 192 women aboard eight convict ships leaving Dublin for New South Wales in 1827. Monks disappeared into obscurity but for Murphy it became an opportunity.

Initially, he was assigned to the engineers’ department but after an escape attempt, was recommitted to the iron gang and sentenced to hard labour in chains in Parramatta.

And that appears to be the end of his life of crime.

An early 1850s map of Kangaroo Point.

Just over a decade later, in 1838, Murphy was assigned as a servant to Patrick Leslie, a Scottish pioneer and grazier. He distinguished himself on an expedition to the Darling Downs in 1840, Leslie describing him as “the best plucked fellow”.

On return to Sydney, Lesley asked Governor Gipps to grant him a ticket of leave. This was granted, and in 1846, Murphy was given a conditional pardon.

While awaiting his ticket of leave which gave him permission to stay in Moreton Bay, Murphy had found work as a district constable in Port Macquarie. There’s a certain irony to the fact that he was an expert witness in the prosecution of a man who had stolen two pairs of boots, a crime similar to his own, although stealing clothes was a common offence.

In Brisbane, the population had more than tripled and Kangaroo Point had joined North and South Brisbane to become the colony’s third township. Being on the river, it was mostly boiling-down works and tanneries, ferry terminals and hotels, with a transient population.

Murphy became the first district constable for the new township where the daily policing routine consisted of dealing with drunkards, thieves and “leavers” without permits.

His biggest case was undoubtedly the gruesome murder of Robert Cox at the Bush Commercial Hotel. His dismembered body was found on a mudbank and his head in long grass nearby.

Bowen Terrace circa 1900 city from Kangaroo point before Story Bridge was built.

William Fyfe, the hotel cook, identified the head and said they had been drinking together.

Murphy found a large quantity of blood under the floorboards of Fyfe’s room and gave expert evidence at his trial. Fyfe, who maintained his innocence, was hanged on July 4, 1848.

The case was raised in 1997, when Brisbane author Rosamond Siemon wrote in The Mayne Inheritance that Irishman Patrick Mayne, a butcher at the boiling down works, had confessed to the murder in the days before his death. Constable Murphy continued with his local policing and in 1850, brought a breach of conduct complaint against two constables for drinking on the job. They were dismissed, one reportedly having confined a man in the watchhouse for drunkenness when he was more intoxicated than the prisoner. Then, in 1853, Murphy himself was charged with drunkenness and fined £5, a substantial portion of his pay. He tendered his resignation and relocated to Ipswich where, from the 1860s onwards, he presided over the local police court.

He had left the force by the time the first constables of the new Queensland Police Force took to the streets on January 1, 1864.

Murphy was 72 when he died of heart disease at Charters Towers on April 6, 1878.

Peter Murphy is among the subjects of Anastasia Dukova’s book To Preserve and Protect: Policing Colonial Brisbane. It is available at all good bookstores and online.