Tom Birch had sponged off his wife in the past. Now, he left his Newtown lodgings for Rockdale: he may have caught the new electric tram to Cooks River. Any fellow passengers might have noted a thickset, mustachioed man of about thirty or forty years of age. From the terminus it would be a good two miles to where Sabina lived so he may have grudgingly spent another few pence for a hansom cab to the brick cottage that his widowed mother in law had rented, until her death some weeks earlier. Sabina and their children had lived with her mother for the past six years.

He rapped his knuckles on the door frame. When Sabina answered the knock she was surprised to see the man she had left years before. She would not let him in. He demanded that she return the jewellery that he had bought her while the marriage was harmonious and he was flush with funds. She hesitated, saying that she wanted to consult the solicitor. If Mr Gannon advised her that she might give them up to Tom, she promised that she would leave the items with the solicitor for him.

The following day she travelled into the city, to the chambers of Gannon & Son in Castlereagh-street with all her jewellery. Mr Gannon considered that it might be for the best to give in to Birch, so she left the items with him. Later the same morning her husband came in from Newtown and Gannon handed the valuables over.

Almost at once Birch took the items to the Mont de Piete loan office, conveniently located in the same building, and pawned them. The officer of the society handed him the sum of fourteen pounds and a receipt, which he poked into a coat pocket. He then returned to his home in Wellington-street, to stew over life’s injustices.

Monday

Tom again rode the tram into the city. On this occasion his destination was the business of McLean Brothers and Rigg, a large retailer in George-street near the Town Hall. The store’s promise was its ability to supply all the needs of country people visiting Sydney, from farm machinery to household appliances—and firearms.

He strolled in and soon afterwards strode out with a revolver that cost him just twenty-five shillings. He had also bought a box of fifty cartridges for an extra three shillings. He slid the receipt into his pocket. At some time that morning or early afternoon he resorted to a hotel for a little Dutch courage.

That afternoon, Tom travelled out to Rockdale; possibly he caught the train from the old Sydney terminal station. Unknown to him, his wife and her four sisters met at the cottage to divide the few items of furniture. Mary’s husband Bill Favell and the women’s brother Augustine came to help with any heavy work.

Tom arrived, unseen, apparently unaware that the other women were at the home. He walked around the house onto the back verandah and sat down in one of the chairs. The women were in the kitchen, a separate building at the rear of the cottage. Someone noticed Tom. Sabina walked as far as the door. “Come out. I want to speak to you privately,” he demanded. “Speak on,” she responded, “there is no one here but my relations.”

With his right hand Birch reached into the inside breast pocket of his coat and drew the revolver. “What do you think of this?” he declared, took aim and pulled the trigger, from about ten feet away. The unaccustomed sound of a loud explosion startled some of the neighbours. From the verandah black smoke drifted through the air. He had missed. Sabina was unhurt. One of her sisters pulled her inside and slammed the door.

Augustine Lawrence hastened up to Birch from behind and to the side, and although only of slight build seized him by the shoulder. The younger man spun around and fired at the head of his brother in law, who crumpled to the verandah floor. The “crack” echoed around, resulting in some of the witnesses thinking that Birch had fired twice in rapid succession.

Birch then marched up to the kitchen door and tried to open it but the women had bolted it. Seeing a face at the window, he fired another shot through the window at close range. The bullet left a round hole about the size of a shilling and broke through the timber wall on the opposite side of the kitchen. The shooter sauntered back to his seat and remained there for a few minutes, toying with his gun. At some time he fired again but the bullet was lost in the garden.

In the kitchen, Mary took a quick breath. She opened the door, walked up the path and cautiously approached the man lying on the ground. She turned the body of her brother over and concluded that he was quite dead. Her mouth suddenly dry, she blurted out, “Tom, what have you done? You have killed my brother.” He replied, “Goodbye; I will go away and blow my brains out, and likewise anyone who comes after me.” He ran out of the yard and up the road. In the meantime Bill Favell hastened away to fetch a doctor.

*

A few blocks away Constable Newell of the Sydney Police Force, based at Rockdale, paced slowly but deliberately up and down the streets. On a Monday afternoon he expected to deal with nothing more than a drunk or perhaps some petty gambling at dice. The weather was notably cold for the time of year following yesterday’s southerly change, and some rain had fallen.

Shortly before four o’clock the crack of a firearm struck the constable’s ear. In the next few moments two more shots rang out. He ran down Roach-street and across the railway tracks in the direction of the sound. Already the neighbourhood grapevine knew of the extraordinary occurrence at Mrs Birch’s home and quickly advised him as to where he should investigate.

In the rear yard he took in the scene: a rear verandah running the length of a house, about five feet wide; a separate kitchen. A wounded man lay unmoving on the verandah, apparently dead; five women of mature years fluttering about. Dr McLeod, a local practitioner, and a tall, grey-bearded man in the garb of a labourer arrived. The doctor examined the man. There was a bullet wound to the head, possibly two. It took him only a moment before he could pronounce life extinct.

Newell and another constable named Hewitt who was close by went in search of Birch. A message had summoned Sergeant Rogers from the police station and he rode up to join in. Again, someone had spotted Birch hurrying towards Spring-street, some hundred and fifty yards away. Newell, Hewitt and Rogers took a considerable time to locate their quarry but eventually spotted him, hiding behind some bushes. Newell managed to approach unseen until he was about five or six yards away. When the fugitive became aware of the constables he reached into the inside breast pocket of his coat but they leapt on him, restrained and handcuffed him.

The police trio escorted him to the Rockdale lockup. While on the way he asked, “Take off the handcuffs. I acknowledge that I did it,” to which Newell replied, “Acknowledge what?”

“Shooting the man. It served him right. He should not interfere between man and wife.” By the time they reached the station it was past five o’clock, past sunset but the evening twilight sufficed for the moment.

At the station the prisoner gave his full name and his calling, hairdresser. He told Constable Hogan that he was sorry the man was dead. “I did not think I fired so high. I intended to fire at his groin.” Hogan remarked that it was a bad job. Birch responded, “You cannot blame me. He came at me with a knife. There were two of them and they gave me a doing before. A man would not be fool enough to go there unarmed.”

A constable conducted the formal search of the man in custody. He found the receipts from the moneylender and the retailer, a revolver with five chambers and a box containing forty five cartridges. The gun appeared to have been recently fired and contained one chambered bullet and four discharged cartridges.

Sergeant Rogers noted that the prisoner was a little affected by liquor but was sober enough to know what he was doing. He then charged him with causing the death of Augustine Lawrence and with wilfully shooting at Sabina Lawrence, with intent to kill. Birch responded, “I am not guilty. I did it under provocation. He had a large knife in his hand.”

The constables returned to the home of Mrs Birch. All the witnesses swore Lawrence had no knife in his hand and the search did not find one. Constable Newell interviewed the still shocked witnesses. He concluded that Bill Favell and his wife appeared the most composed and took down their statements in his notebook. He ordered them to prepare to testify at the inquest, on the morrow.

As darkness fell that evening a horse-drawn hearse arrived. The crew lifted the body into the vehicle and with Constable Newell drove away to the City Morgue in George-street. There, Newell searched the body, finding a small sum of money in coins and some papers.

That evening Dr Jamieson conducted a post-mortem of the body and prepared his report for the Coroner. Contrary to what some witnesses told Newell in their statements, he found only one bullet wound. The other injuries were only abrasions that had bled a little. There was a puncture wound at the left eyebrow, with gunpowder residues around it. The wound penetrated the skull. When he opened the head he found a star-shaped fracture immediately beneath the wound. The brain was lacerated and bruised along a track running backwards and to the right, and beneath the membranes of the brain on the right side, on its hinder aspect, he found the bullet.

He also noted among other medical signs that the man had a chronic inflammation of the stomach and signs of disease in the left lung, almost healed.

Soon after the sentence to death was commuted, prison authorities transferred him to Goulburn Gaol. Whether he was released from prison is not clear but near the end of his life he entered the Parramatta Mental Asylum, where he died in 1935 after a stroke.

Birch had three children. His victim left five children living, the youngest just five years old. One year later Mrs Lawrence placed an in memoriam notice in the Herald in honour of her husband: “In loving remembrance of my loving husband and fond father, Augustine Lawrence who was shot at Rockdale April 28th 1902. Dead, but not forgotten.”

*

This is a true story, compiled from the stories in the Sydney newspapers of the time, which are now readily accessible on-line through the National Library of Australia website “Trove.” The advanced search facility was used using various search terms and limiting dates. State Records NSW holds many of the relevant documents including case records although some records are closed for one hundred years, for privacy reasons.

I have tried to reconcile the various witness statements to produce the narrative. There seems to me to be some discrepancy as to where Augustine was shot. The timing and the number of shots fired from the revolver is another issue. The police accounts agree on four, but only three are fully accounted for.

The next morning Thomas Nicholas Birch stood in the dock at the Police Court on the two charges, one of shooting at Lawrence and one of shooting at Mrs Birch. He seemed to expect that he would later be exonerated on the defence of provocation. This hearing was a simple formality. Prosecuting Sergeant Rogers requested an adjournment for eight days and the stipendiary magistrate acceded to the request.

Later the same Tuesday morning Mr Todd the deputy Coroner convened an inquest in a large chamber at the Lloyd Hotel, situated conveniently close to the Morgue. A jury of twelve men of good standing was sworn in and a foreman appointed. Birch was seated, in the custody of the police. The court officers gave Mrs Lawrence, the widow of the deceased man, a seat on a sofa at the end of the room.

The inquest began with the customary inspection of the body by the members of the jury. William Favell formally identified the body as that of Augustine Lawrence, a labourer. He lived in Arthur-street, Marrickville, with his wife and family; six children, Favell concluded after some thought. The youngest was five years of age. He owned no property and, as far as he knew, was in good health.

The surgeon Jamieson presented his written report and answered questions. A juror asked, “Did the bullet come from the revolver produced by the police?” Jamieson could not say for certain, but it was the same calibre. It was his opinion that the other marks on the face were simply abrasions, the result of the deceased man’s fall. He concluded that the cause of death was the brain injury.

Rose Lawrence fidgeted uneasily on her seat, close to tears. After hearing some of the evidence she rose to her feet and started to rush to the spot where Birch stood. A constable seized hold of her. She struggled desperately for some time, screaming at her husband’s killer. Eventually a couple of constables hustled her out of the courtroom.

Under oath, Favell continued his evidence. He explained that the women present the previous afternoon were his wife Mary and her four sisters. He described the events from the time Birch arrived and the fatal shooting. His wife Mary gave similar evidence. Constables Newell and Hogan and Sergeant Rogers also presented their statements.

The jury retired at about twenty minutes past three. About twenty minutes later the jurymen filed back into the makeshift court with a verdict of wilful murder. Mr Todd committed him to stand trial in the Central Criminal Court for murder on the next day of sitting. He refused bail.

The court demanded recognisances to attend the Central Criminal Court from Sergeant Rogers and Constables Newell and Hogan. Similarly Sydney Jamieson (the surgeon), William Favell of “Hillside,” Arncliffe, gardener and Mary Favell. The Favells had to post a bond each of £100.

The police delivered Thomas Birch to Darlinghurst Gaol. There he would remain until his trial. On the following Friday Todd despatched the paperwork to the state’s Attorney-General.

A week later the prisoner again stood in the dock at Newtown, where Magistrate Edwards heard the two charges of shooting. A gaol official gave formal evidence of his behaviour in the few days after he entered Darlinghurst, which was good and cooperative. Since the trial for murder was already set down, Edwards remanded the prisoner in custody without dealing with these lesser charges.

Around the same date the Attorney-General’s department organised defence lawyers for the accused. The honour went to Messrs Lane and Roberts, who briefed the eminent barrister Sidney Mack with Mr De Lissa as his junior.

A few days before the scheduled date for the trial, the visiting surgeon to the gaol requested that the prisoner should be placed under observation so that evidence of a mental condition might be gained.

*

The sensational nature of the case already published by the Sydney newspapers ensured an attendance by court reporters; and a journalist from the Sydney Truth, that notorious scandal sheet then owned by John Norton.

As potential jurors filed into their box, they took in something of the grandeur of the occasion. Four barristers sat behind a long table, their documents before them, with instructing solicitors behind. The accused came up the stairs from the cells below to the dock; a stout man dressed in a suit and tie, neatly groomed hair (parted on the conventional left side) with a noticeable widow’s peak and a moustache drooping at both corners of his mouth.

“All rise!” A bewigged, red-robed judge entered from the door behind his elevated Bench. Mr Acting-Justice Samuel Pring took his seat.

Birch challenged several of the jurors; he did not have to state his reasons. Soon enough, the panel of twelve took their seats waiting to hear the evidence. Much of this was in the form of written depositions from the Coroner’s Court.

“You are charged with the murder of Augustine Lawrence, at Rockdale in the state of New South Wales. How do you plead?”

“Not guilty.”

Mr Wade introduced himself and his junior Mr Bevan to the jury. He outlined the case, which was a simple one. The eyewitnesses would show how the deceased came to be shot. Mr Jamieson, the surgeon, would explain the injuries and give the cause of death. The police officers would give evidence regarding the arrest, also the search of the suspect’s pockets and their subsequent inquiries.

Mr Sidney Mack made his opening address. He and his junior Mr De Lissa would call no witnesses for the defence but the accused would make an unsworn statement from the dock. Their role was to ensure that the accused received a fair trial.

Favell gave his evidence. Cross-examining for the defence, Mr Mack asked whether any of the furniture belonged to Birch. Favell answered that it did not. Mrs Favell gave her version of the events of the fatal afternoon.

Jamieson followed. Newell, Hogan and Rogers narrated the details of the arrest and the remarks passed by the accused while in custody. This concluded the Crown’s case.

Birch made his statement from the dock. He explained that domestic differences had arisen between himself and his wife; they had separated some years earlier. He asserted that he had never fired at his wife or at Lawrence. The revolver had gone off when Lawrence had rushed at him with a knife. His barrister asked him about the evidence of the witness Favell and the police officers. In his reply he admitted the truth of some of their evidence.

According to the journalist from the Truth, he bemoaned the fact that it was all a dispute over property. He insisted that when he visited his wife the week before the shooting he had claimed some of the furniture. There was ill-feeling between him and the family, he said. On one occasion Mrs Lawrence, the wife of the deceased, grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him. He alleged that their chief objection to him was that he would not go to the Church of England, in which church he did not believe.

When he was nearly finished, he burst out, “If the poor fellow had lived for 12 hours or even one hour after he was shot so that his dying depositions could have been taken, he would have exonerated me!” He said that someone else should be standing in the dock instead of him; perhaps he meant Favell.

In conference before the hearing Mr Mack advised him not to go into the witness box. He should confine himself to his statement from the dock. However he wished to swear to his statement. After further consultation with his barristers he walked the short distance to the box and took the oath. He said that all he had uttered from the dock was true. He did not know how Lawrence had been shot.

Mr Wade cross-examined him briefly. He objected to answering certain questions on the matter of the money he had received from his wife’s jewellery.

About two o’clock in the afternoon Mr Mack began his final address, followed by the junior prosecution barrister Mr Bevan. The judge then presented his summing up. Shortly after three, the members of the jury retired. For perhaps ninety minutes they discussed the degree of culpability of Birch. Soon after half past four the foremen sent a message to the judge that they had reached a unanimous verdict.

The participants reassembled in the court room. After the usual formalities His Honour asked the foreman for their verdict.

“Guilty.”

The jury added a recommendation to mercy, on account of the crime being unpremeditated.

“Have you anything to say as to why the sentence of death should not be passed prisoner?” Birch simply replied, "No." He maintained an unmoved demeanour during some remarks by His Honour, who emphasised that the jury in finding prisoner guilty had come to the only possible verdict. On the evidence reasonable men could not find otherwise. The crime of which prisoner had been found guilty was a terrible one, and it presented very bad features.

Pring would not hold out any hope to the prisoner and would recommend him to make preparation to meet his Maker. With one hand, he placed the black cloth square over his wig. He pronounced the sentence for Birch’s moment of madness. The prisoner would be taken to the place from whence he came, where at a time to be fixed he would be hanged by the neck until dead. To observers in the court it seemed that the judge was more moved than the prisoner.

Birch returned to Darlinghurst Gaol to await his fate.

The State Governor had the final voice in the matter. On behalf of the King it was his right to exercise the royal prerogative. One month after the trial the ministers of the Crown met.

Capital punishment was a hot issue. Since the botched execution of the so-called Botany Bay murderess eleven years earlier calls to abolish the death penalty grew in volume. But each time, the proponents of capital punishment seemed always to be able to present a particularly horrific case. No woman had been hanged in NSW since Mrs Collins. It would however be more than fifty years before the death penalty was abolished for murder in NSW and more than sixty years before the last man was hanged in Australia.

Discussion within Cabinet was doubtless robust. The decision came down in favour of the prisoner. The sentence was commuted to penal servitude for life.