Despite the general reputation of German settlers as sturdy, hard working and reliable, there was of course a few who strayed from the straight and narrow.
In April 1867, the following report appeared in the The Brisbane Courier.
Christian Biermeister, a German, was charged with having,
on the Gayndah road, on the 25th January last, feloniously stopped a certain
mail for the conveyance of post letters with intent to rob, and a second count
charged a feloniously stopping with intent to search. The prisoner was
undefended.[1]
 |
| Bushrangers "sticking up" a coach |
During the great bushranging era in the Australian Colonies during the
1860s and 1870s, there were a few German highwaymen took up the profession. At first the local press thought the idea
rather comic.[2]
We are informed that some foolish, mad brained fellow - a
German - had the temerity to stick up our royal mail-coach on the evening of
Friday last, whilst on its way to Gayndah.
The creature ordered the driver to "shtop;" he
did so; the bushranger (for such he was taken to be) then undid a parcel that
was in the coach, found it to contain a constable's uniform, felt disgusted,
and decamped. The police are after him, and when he is caught he will have to
pay dearly for his "zhoake." [joke]
 |
| The Club Hotel, Gayndah |
But despite the musical hall accent, Biermeister turned out to be
deadly serious and a slippery character to boot.[3]
STICKING UP OF THE GAYNDAH MAIL.
On Friday afternoon last, the mail-coach going to Gayndah
was stuck-up at a spot about eight miles from Gayndah. The coach was mounting a
ridge when a man was seen coming over the crown of the ridge on foot, armed
with a gun.
No notice was taken of the man until, with an oath, he
called upon the driver of the coach to pull up, and the driver asked the man
what he wanted him to pull up for. The fellow then raised his gun and
threatened to let drive, if his demand was not immediately attended to, and
then matters began to look more serious.
With the gun levelled at each one in turn, he ordered
them all to get out of the coach and turn their pockets inside out, which
accordingly they did; the whole of them venturing, however, only to exhibit the
inside of their empty pockets. The fellow was very wrathful at this, and, with
great oaths, swore he would shoot Mr. Edwards.
The fellow then ordered the driver to throw out what
parcels and mails he had in the coach, and a small mail-bag was accordingly
thrown out. After taking up the mail bag and handling it for a second or two,
he dropped it again, and told the mailman to pick up the things and drive on.
 |
| Colonial Mail Coach |
The bushranger was left empty handed but he had been recognised by one
of the passengers as a local reprobate..[4]
The man, it appears, who was well known to Dr.
Stevenson's servant, is a German, named Christian Byerwater [sic], and is well
known at Gayndah, where he was regarded as cranky. He was lately in the lock-up
there on the charge of breaking into a public-house, and then conducted himself
like one insane; he was also engaged, some time ago, we understand, at Ban Ban,
until he was got rid of for his insane tricks.
The way the follow conducted himself showed he was new to
the business, and only the more dangerous; for whilst pointing his gun, which
was seen to be capped, his hand so shook that it was a wonder the gun was not
fired off without his actually intending it, and the party wore more afraid of
this than that they would be deliberately murdered. Besides the gun, the man
had in his belt a pair of revolvers.
The following day the rookie desperado robbed a shepherd of supplies.[5]
A few day’s later he held up the mail coach from the town of Banana.[6]
Information was received in town to-day that the Banana
mail had been stuck up yesterday, by a German named Christian Byermester [sic].
He was on foot, and carried a, double-barrelled gun.
 |
| Coonambula Homestead |
The hunt for the German outlaw was now on in earnest.[7]
After a deal of reconnoitring and tracking, by the aid of
one of the station black boys, the constables came suddenly on the desperado on
the Coonambula run, when they instantly secured him. He was armed with a double
barrelled gun loaded and capped, which proved useless to him then, having been
pounced upon so quickly. They then brought their prisoner to the head station,
and left early next morning for Gayndah.
Despite the police escort, the German outlaw soon made his escape into the scrubby landscape. It was almost a week before he was recaptured.
The party proceeded well enough, with the greatest
caution, for about eight miles, when, on nearing a scrub, the prisoner bolted,
and, though on foot, managed to effect his escape from the police. Word was at
once sent to the head station and the manager, with three blackboys,
immediately turned out to run the thief down if possible.
 |
| The Mary River |
The whole party then took to the scrub, but did not
succeed in their object. It has since been ascertained - that the prisoner had
made for a hut on the river, some distance from where he escaped, where he
managed to get the "darbies" cut from his hands. He then kept to the
river on to Dalgangal, where, on Tuesday last, Mr. Thomas Najor captured him.
On Wednesday we had the pleasure of seeing him escorted
and placed in the lock-up. We are informed the prisoner had £80 of the money
taken from the Banana mail on him when first arrested. He was brought before
the Police Magistrate on Thursday, and remanded for eight days.
Biermeister made no defence and the trial was ridiculously short.[8]
MARYBOROUGH ASSIZES.
John Bates, driver of the Maryborough and Gayndah coach,
deposed:
 |
| Post Office, Maryborough, 1870 |
That on the day in question while driving the mail he was
stopped by an armed man between seven and eight miles outside of Gayndah; he
presented his gun, ordered witness to stop, and requested him to throw out the
bags, and told him to out with his money or he would knock bloody hell out of
him; witness threw out the bags and some parcels; there was a paper parcel
which he tore asunder to see what was in it; he then took up a mail-bag and
threw it down again and rode away.
Dennis McCarthy, sergeant of police, stationed at
Gayndah, deposed to apprehending the prisoner on the 9th of last month;
prisoner had a double-barrelled gun; he told him the charge, when he said he
did stop the coach but he took nothing from it.
This was the case for the Crown. The prisoner made no
defence.
The jury found the prisoner guilty, and the Chief Justice
sentenced him to be kept to penal servitude for fifteen years.
Biermeister now considered his only option was to escape from lockup
and very nearly was successful.[9]
 |
| Samuel Sneyd, Chief Constable |
The German bushranger, Byermeister, is not quite such a
fool as some people fancied. He has been sentenced to 16 years' imprisonment,
but Mr. Sneyd will have to keep a sharp look out on him, as it is evident that
he will trouble him for lodging but as short a time as possible.
His latest attempts at escape show both ingenuity and
perseverance: —
"On the night of this second attempt at escape,
Sergeant McCarthy, in company with the lockup keeper, went to visit the
prisoner. Just as they opened the cell door Byermeister was seen standing up
against the wall near thereto, with the iron bucket of the cell, which had
water in it, up lifted, ready to smash down upon the head of the opener of the
door; but as soon as he saw there were two visitors he dropped the utensil.
On examination it was found that everything had been prepared
by him for an escape. The leg irons had been pulled up as high as he could get
them, about midway of his knees and ankles; two holes were made in each leg of
his trousers, and through these holes strings were passed on to the irons and
fastened; whilst, round the chain, so
as to prevent its clinking, were passed strips of his prison blanket; his sleeves were turned up, and everything be
tokened a determination to bolt.
 |
| Prison van outside Brisbane Gaol |
But this appears not to have sated his thirst for
freedom. On the following day his hand was observed by the lockup keeper moving to and fro
immediately under the small slide in
the door; with the aid of another person the door was opened, and there was
detected a neat little contrivance the prisoner had resorted to assist himself
to an offensive weapon.
The ingenious Biermeister even managed to undo the screws in the door
with his teeth!
Underneath the slide on the inside of the door is a bar
of iron, fastened into the door with screws. The prisoner managed to pass a
shred of his shirt or trousers round
the head of three of them, and by gradually working them in this wise
with his mouth, so as to save his teeth, "succeeded in abstracting them.
Another three or four minutes and the fourth would have been unrivetted."
And with this last report, Christian Biermeister disappears from the newspaper records.
©
K. C. Sbeghen, 2011.
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