APPENDIX.
During the progress of the trial numberless letters, anonymous and bearing signatures, were received by Ross’s legal advisers. They were of all classes—helpful criticism, incoherent comment, threatening, laudatory, and censorious. One received on the eve of Ross’s execution, with a covering note asking that it should be handed to him, and saying that it would have been sent direct only the writer had doubts whether the prison regulations would allow Ross to get it, bore on its face some suggestion of genuineness. No one, of course, can say definitely, but the letter may perhaps be given as possessing some public interest. The envelope bore the postmark of a small country town, but there was nothing otherwise to indicate whence or from whom it came. With the elision of a sentence or two, rather Zola-esque for publication, it was as follows:—
“Colin C. Ross,“Melbourne Gaol.“You have been condemned for a crime which you have never committed, and are to suffer for another’s fault. Since your conviction you have, no doubt, wondered what manner of man the real murderer is who could not only encompass the girl’s death, but allow you to suffer in his stead.“My dear Ross, if it is any satisfaction for you to know it, believe me that you die but once, but he will continue to die for the rest of his life. Honoured and fawned upon by those who know him, the smile upon his lips but hides the canker eating into his soul. Day and nighthis life is a hell without the hope of reprieve. Gladly would he take your place on Monday next if he had himself alone to consider. His reason, then, briefly stated, is this: A devoted and loving mother is ill—a shock would be fatal. Three loving married sisters, whose whole life would be wrecked, to say nothing of brothers who have been accustomed to take him as a pattern. He cannot sacrifice these. Himself he will sacrifice when his mother passes away. He will do it by his own hand. He will board the ferry across the Styx with a lie on his lips, with the only hope that religion is a myth and death annihilation.“It is too painful for him to go into the details of the crime. It is simply a Jekyll and Hyde existence. By a freak of nature, he was not made as other men.... This girl was not the first.... With a procuress all things are possible.... In this case there was no intention of murder—the victim unexpectedly collapsed. The hands of the woman, in her frenzy, did the rest.“May it be some satisfaction to yourself, your devoted mother, and the members of your family to know that at least one of the legion of the damned, who is the cause of your death, is suffering the pangs of hell. He may not ask your forgiveness or sympathy, but he asks your understanding.”
“Colin C. Ross,“Melbourne Gaol.
“You have been condemned for a crime which you have never committed, and are to suffer for another’s fault. Since your conviction you have, no doubt, wondered what manner of man the real murderer is who could not only encompass the girl’s death, but allow you to suffer in his stead.
“My dear Ross, if it is any satisfaction for you to know it, believe me that you die but once, but he will continue to die for the rest of his life. Honoured and fawned upon by those who know him, the smile upon his lips but hides the canker eating into his soul. Day and nighthis life is a hell without the hope of reprieve. Gladly would he take your place on Monday next if he had himself alone to consider. His reason, then, briefly stated, is this: A devoted and loving mother is ill—a shock would be fatal. Three loving married sisters, whose whole life would be wrecked, to say nothing of brothers who have been accustomed to take him as a pattern. He cannot sacrifice these. Himself he will sacrifice when his mother passes away. He will do it by his own hand. He will board the ferry across the Styx with a lie on his lips, with the only hope that religion is a myth and death annihilation.
“It is too painful for him to go into the details of the crime. It is simply a Jekyll and Hyde existence. By a freak of nature, he was not made as other men.... This girl was not the first.... With a procuress all things are possible.... In this case there was no intention of murder—the victim unexpectedly collapsed. The hands of the woman, in her frenzy, did the rest.
“May it be some satisfaction to yourself, your devoted mother, and the members of your family to know that at least one of the legion of the damned, who is the cause of your death, is suffering the pangs of hell. He may not ask your forgiveness or sympathy, but he asks your understanding.”
Footnotes:[1]The Government reward of £1000 was distributed as follows:—Ivy Matthews, £350; Sydney John Harding, £200; Olive Maddox, £170; George Arthur Ellis, £50; Joseph Dunstan, £50; David Alberts, £30; Madame Ghurka, £25; Maisie Russell, £25; Blanche Edmonds, £20; Muriel Edmonds, £20; Violet Sullivan, £20; Michaluscki Nicoli, £20; Francisco Anselmi, £20. A reward of £250 offered by the “Herald” was distributed pro rata. It was never disclosed, either on the trial or in the press, what the services rendered by Madame Ghurka or Maisie Russell were.[2]By comparing this question and answer with the statement, it will be seen that Piggott was slightly in error here. What Ross said was that it was 4.45 when he and Gladys left the saloon.[3]Ivy Matthews, in June, 1922, reported that a box of clothing, containing some money which she had ready packed to take to Sydney, had been stolen. It had been called for by a cabman in her absence, and taken away. Some weeks afterwards the box was discovered at the railway station; but about £20 worth of the clothes were missing. That was the last ever heard—publicly—of the matter. In September, 1922, Harding was arrested on a charge of indecent language. When his case was called on next morning at the police court, the prosecuting sergeant said, “The accused has apologised to the constable; the constable is satisfied, and wishes to withdraw the charge.” It was withdrawn accordingly. All offenders do not get so easily out of their troubles, and plain constables are not, as a rule, allowed to withdraw charges for public offences. But no doubt Harding was able to say, “I have done the State some service, and they know it”—with the accent on the “they.”[4]This plan is only approximately to scale. The sloping wall going in to the doorway is actually not at as sharp an angle as the plan shows. Each of the big rooms is, over all, 15ft. 10in. x 11ft. 4in. The cubicle occupies 6ft. x 5ft. 5in. of the one room, and the beaded room occupies 7ft. 6in. x 6ft. 7in. of the other room. The walls of the beaded room went almost up to the ceiling. There was no door where the “arch door” is shown, but only a doorway with curtains hanging in it.
Footnotes:
[1]The Government reward of £1000 was distributed as follows:—Ivy Matthews, £350; Sydney John Harding, £200; Olive Maddox, £170; George Arthur Ellis, £50; Joseph Dunstan, £50; David Alberts, £30; Madame Ghurka, £25; Maisie Russell, £25; Blanche Edmonds, £20; Muriel Edmonds, £20; Violet Sullivan, £20; Michaluscki Nicoli, £20; Francisco Anselmi, £20. A reward of £250 offered by the “Herald” was distributed pro rata. It was never disclosed, either on the trial or in the press, what the services rendered by Madame Ghurka or Maisie Russell were.
[1]The Government reward of £1000 was distributed as follows:—Ivy Matthews, £350; Sydney John Harding, £200; Olive Maddox, £170; George Arthur Ellis, £50; Joseph Dunstan, £50; David Alberts, £30; Madame Ghurka, £25; Maisie Russell, £25; Blanche Edmonds, £20; Muriel Edmonds, £20; Violet Sullivan, £20; Michaluscki Nicoli, £20; Francisco Anselmi, £20. A reward of £250 offered by the “Herald” was distributed pro rata. It was never disclosed, either on the trial or in the press, what the services rendered by Madame Ghurka or Maisie Russell were.
[2]By comparing this question and answer with the statement, it will be seen that Piggott was slightly in error here. What Ross said was that it was 4.45 when he and Gladys left the saloon.
[2]By comparing this question and answer with the statement, it will be seen that Piggott was slightly in error here. What Ross said was that it was 4.45 when he and Gladys left the saloon.
[3]Ivy Matthews, in June, 1922, reported that a box of clothing, containing some money which she had ready packed to take to Sydney, had been stolen. It had been called for by a cabman in her absence, and taken away. Some weeks afterwards the box was discovered at the railway station; but about £20 worth of the clothes were missing. That was the last ever heard—publicly—of the matter. In September, 1922, Harding was arrested on a charge of indecent language. When his case was called on next morning at the police court, the prosecuting sergeant said, “The accused has apologised to the constable; the constable is satisfied, and wishes to withdraw the charge.” It was withdrawn accordingly. All offenders do not get so easily out of their troubles, and plain constables are not, as a rule, allowed to withdraw charges for public offences. But no doubt Harding was able to say, “I have done the State some service, and they know it”—with the accent on the “they.”
[3]Ivy Matthews, in June, 1922, reported that a box of clothing, containing some money which she had ready packed to take to Sydney, had been stolen. It had been called for by a cabman in her absence, and taken away. Some weeks afterwards the box was discovered at the railway station; but about £20 worth of the clothes were missing. That was the last ever heard—publicly—of the matter. In September, 1922, Harding was arrested on a charge of indecent language. When his case was called on next morning at the police court, the prosecuting sergeant said, “The accused has apologised to the constable; the constable is satisfied, and wishes to withdraw the charge.” It was withdrawn accordingly. All offenders do not get so easily out of their troubles, and plain constables are not, as a rule, allowed to withdraw charges for public offences. But no doubt Harding was able to say, “I have done the State some service, and they know it”—with the accent on the “they.”
[4]This plan is only approximately to scale. The sloping wall going in to the doorway is actually not at as sharp an angle as the plan shows. Each of the big rooms is, over all, 15ft. 10in. x 11ft. 4in. The cubicle occupies 6ft. x 5ft. 5in. of the one room, and the beaded room occupies 7ft. 6in. x 6ft. 7in. of the other room. The walls of the beaded room went almost up to the ceiling. There was no door where the “arch door” is shown, but only a doorway with curtains hanging in it.
[4]This plan is only approximately to scale. The sloping wall going in to the doorway is actually not at as sharp an angle as the plan shows. Each of the big rooms is, over all, 15ft. 10in. x 11ft. 4in. The cubicle occupies 6ft. x 5ft. 5in. of the one room, and the beaded room occupies 7ft. 6in. x 6ft. 7in. of the other room. The walls of the beaded room went almost up to the ceiling. There was no door where the “arch door” is shown, but only a doorway with curtains hanging in it.
Transcriber’s Notes:The cover image has been created by the transcriber using elements from the original publication and placed in the public domain.The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up paragraphs and so that they are next to the text they illustrate.Typographical errors have been silently corrected.
Transcriber’s Notes:
The cover image has been created by the transcriber using elements from the original publication and placed in the public domain.
The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up paragraphs and so that they are next to the text they illustrate.
Typographical errors have been silently corrected.