Not Guilty

by Christine Gardner

  CHAPTER FIVE: The Inquest

  ‘I find that the said Camellia McCluskey did feloniously with malice aforethought kill and murder the said Ida Helen McCluskey’.

  The inquest began at Bendigo on August 8 and was adjourned until August 13, when the coroner found Camellia had murdered her children. Both the local media and Melbourne newspapers were present as well as bystanders anxious to see the murderess for themselves. There were also many just as keen to see the house where the horror had happened.

  The horrible tragedy at ‘Braeside’, ... Don-street, on Sunday afternoon, came as a shock to Bendigonians yesterday morning and, of course, the subject was a prominent topic of conversation. The harrowing details of the mother’s awful crime were eagerly sought after, but the mere reading of what had occurred, and what was to be seen after the three innocent children had been slain by their unhappy mother, did not satisfy many hundreds of men, women and children. These, whose minds were more morbid than the rest, were early on the scene of the awful murder, and gazed eagerly over the fence. A few stood on the road, and a passer-by or two did not venture any closer than the opposite footpath. Some more daring than the rest pushed the front gate open, and finding that there was no one on the premises, to prevent them making a minute inspection, boldly marched through the house and about the yard.

  The Bendigo Advertiser, after its reporting of the murder scene in as detailed and gruesome a manner as possible, pretended outrage at the morbid curiosity this invoked in its readers. After this criticism of those onlookers bold enough to enter the house themselves, the reporter then described the scene for his less daring readers:

  Everything inside and outside the house had been left in the same topsy-turvy condition in which it was found when the police entered after they had been informed of the tragedy on Sunday afternoon by the murderess. The floorcloth was lying about in long pieces, the chairs and a table smashed almost beyond recognition, were in the different rooms, but in the main front room, hung over the piano, quite intact, an enlarged photograph of Mr McDonald, surrounded by a heavy gilt frame. The woman in her frenzy had evidently not stopped to look about her, and so the photograph had escaped destruction. On the mantelpiece in the same room were two photographs, one of a young man who is supposed to have been McDonald’s legitimate son, and another of a young woman, evidently taken some years ago, as her attire is now somewhat old-fashioned. On the back of the latter photograph were the words ‘Yours sincerely, Ettie.’ The features in the picture bear somewhat of a resemblance to those of the accused woman McCluskey, and would lead to the impression that the likeness is that of a younger sister. The bedroom and children’s room were still in a condition of jumble, and downstairs the breakfast room was unaltered. A strong smell of smoke pervaded the whole house, having come from the upholstered armchair which the woman ignited after smashing up her furniture and murdering her children.

  The media was determined to wring as much out of this scandal as it possibly could. There was nothing new to tell, but the description of the state of the house no doubt sold more newspapers to those who were not ‘morbid’ enough to actually go in and have a look for themselves. Camellia’s younger sister was called Adelaide, and it may be more likely that this picture was of George’s daughter, Ethel, two years younger than Camellia, especially since there was also a photograph of one of George’s sons. It is interesting that Camellia made no attempt to destroy the photograph of George. Perhaps, as the reporter hints, she was just so distraught she didn’t notice it, but it may have been because it was above the piano, which was also untouched, presumably because it was in Camellia’s name and not yet fully paid for.

  At 9 o’clock in the morning the acting coroner, Mr. Vivian Tanner, P.M., attended the scene with Detective Commons, to familiarise himself with the location of the various rooms and places where the murders occurred and where evidence was found.

  Meanwhile Detective Currie escorted McDonald to the hospital morgue and the formal viewing of the children’s bodies took place there after the coroner arrived.

  The three bodies of the dead children lay side by side, and when the sheet was lifted from their faces the grief of the father was terrible to behold. He sobbed violently, and repeatedly called for his favourite child, ‘Dolly.’

  A number of onlookers waited outside the Law Courts hoping to catch a glimpse of the murderess. Detectives Commons and Currie escorted her from the Bendigo Gaol, where, according to the Advertiser, she had ‘spent a somewhat hard night on account of her grief’, through Rosalind Park to the court. They arrived there around 3.30, Camellia walking between the two detectives, who must surely have been hiding their own distress at the situation. She probably felt more secure with those two men than with anyone else at that time; they perhaps knew her better than anyone, but nonetheless must have been stunned and horrified by what she had done. She is described as walking ‘meekly’ between them, showing clearly ‘by the sad expression on her countenance and her tear-swollen eyes that she was suffering keenly from remorse. Her spirit was broken and her nerves shattered.’

  She seemed to regard the detectives as her protectors and indeed they were, for they showed her every kindness possible under the circumstances. She was dressed in a dark blue serge skirt, a black sealskin jacket, and a large blue straw hat with trimmings of a black material. She sat patiently in the watch house until it was time to enter the courthouse, and then walked across the asphalt path with her head bowed.

  The Bendigo Gaol has only recently been closed and the building is, and will remain, largely intact. Rosalind Park is a large park in the central area of Bendigo and it is a short walk downhill from the old gaol, an imposing building which stands on the top of a hill overlooking the city centre, through the park to the courthouse. The Advertiser describes the scene inside the courtroom:

  The accused sat next to Detective Currie on the clients’ form, immediately behind Inspector Hannan, until the Coroner, (Mr. V. Tanner, P.M.) took his seat. Then she moved along behind Mr. Luke Murphy, her solicitor. Although the woman never even raised her head, she furtively watched with upturned eyes all that was going on around her. Only once did she glance at McDonald, who was sitting on the same form, with Detective Currie separating them. Then she hung her head, and the violent trembling of her body told that she was silently sobbing.

  The coroner’s clerk then announced the court officially open and legal representatives of both Camellia and George asked the permission of the coroner to watch proceedings on their clients’ behalf. The requests were granted and the inquest began.

  George’s counsel signalled him to take his place in the witness box and he did so, walking steadily but with his head bowed. When he reached it he ‘gazed fixedly’ at a window high in the western wall of the courtroom, presumably avoiding the sight of his de facto sitting before him. He was sworn on the bible and gave his name, in a ‘broken voice’ in answer to Inspector Hannan. He continued his evidence:

  ‘I am a factory manager in the employ of Mr Leggo, of Bendigo. I reside in Don-street, Bendigo.’

  ‘How long have you lived there?’ asked the inspector.

  ‘About three months,’ replied the witness, as he turned and moved uneasily in the witness box.

  ‘Who lived there with you?’ asked Inspector Hannan.

  ‘Camellia McCluskey,’ said the man.

  ‘Is this the person?’ asked the inspector, indicating the woman.

  McDonald looked in the direction indicated, but as he did not answer the inspector asked the woman to stand up.

  Mr Murphy said he thought that unnecessary, and then the woman’s slender frame trembled like a leaf as she strived to silence her grief.

  The inquest was adjourned until the following Saturday, August 13. Truth described Camellia’s arrival that day in a cab, escorted by a gaol matron and a police officer. She was dressed in ‘a blue cloth tailor-made costume, with a lace collar. Her hat was heliotrope straw, with a rosette of the same shad
e, and violet feathers.’ She was also described, again by Truth, as ‘attenuated in appearance, and wore an anxious, hunted expression; but there were, nevertheless, unmistakable traces of a departed beauty.’ She is further described as ‘a poor creature, who appeared composed’, but ‘quailed perceptively and dropped her head’ when the press and court officers arrived. At times during the proceedings ‘her slender frame was apparently convulsed with an agony of black despair.’

  George did not arrive at the inquest until after lunch and said he had been at the cemetery, ‘in a position of semi-unconsciousness, beside the graves of his murdered off-spring.’ According to Truth, Camellia ‘shuddered’ when George entered the court and sought ‘protection’ from the prison matron accompanying her, who then changed her position to hide George from Camellia’s view. Truth declared George to be a ‘moral monster’, ‘one of those creatures who has degenerated with advancing years.’

  Fifteen years earlier he had been a store holder with his wife, in Windsor. He then started farming alone at Ferntree Gully, engaging a live-in housekeeper. His wife believed he was having an affair with the woman and refused to have anything more to do with him. She began to run a boarding-house in Richmond and rear her family alone. She would not, however, say anything against George, stating that while they were together he was a good husband. It may be that the couple were already amicably separated when he went to Ferntree Gully without her. Her presence at the court indicates support for her errant husband, who had little of that from anyone else. She could, of course, have been there to gloat, but her only comments were not of a vindictive nature. He was the father of her children and she knew better than most what kind of father he was and how he must be feeling after the cruel and pointless deaths of his young children.

  George stayed with Maudie for at least a day or two after the murders, having nowhere else to go. Truth again denounced him for this ‘brutality and fiendish callousness’ and, when he protested his love for his murdered children, they called him ‘a detestable, contemptible, hypocritical liar’, who should be arrested as ‘an accessory before the fact’. ‘He goaded Camellia into the commission of an awful crime and he should be indicted and placed in the dock for trial before his God and country’. Camellia was a ‘pitiable creature he [had] irreparably debauched, and whose soul he [had] blasted.’ This condemnation of George was no doubt calculated to sell newspapers, but if so it must have been a popular view. After the initial shock at the horror of her crime, the newspaper coverage indicates a softening towards Camellia; pity rather than outrage, and the blame was placed on George for his neglect and lack of loyalty. Camellia was then placed as the victim rather than the children, and their father, perhaps the only one to truly grieve for them, became the villain.

  The coroner, whatever his personal thoughts on the matter, had little choice in his finding:

  Having duly inquired upon the part of our Lord the King when where how and by what means the said Ida Helen McCluskey otherwise known as Ida Helen McCutcheon Eric George McCluskey otherwise known as Eric George McCutcheon and Dorothy McCluskey otherwise known as Dorothy McCutcheon came by their deaths I say that the said Ida Helen McCluskey ... [and Eric and Dorothy] died at Bendigo on the seventh day of August 1910 from fracture of the skull caused by injuries feloniously and maliciously inflicted by Camellia McCluskey on the said seventh day of August 1910 at Bendigo aforesaid and I find that the said Camellia McCluskey did feloniously with malice aforethought kill and murder the said Ida Helen McCluskey ... [and Eric and Dorothy].

  The Advertiser again chastises the Bendigo public for their curiosity, having little new to write about the murders by Wednesday August 10:

  The dreadful murder of the three children of George McDonald and Camellia McCluskey by their mother at ‘Braeside’, Don-street, on Sunday afternoon, still forms a topic of general conversation. There is, however, very little fresh information concerning the terrible deed, as almost the whole of the circumstances, or at least all those that at the present juncture can be made public, have already been published in these columns.

  The scene of the murder again attracted a great many people, the majority of whom were women and children, yesterday. The fact that the house is in close proximity to a State school probably accounted for the crowds of children loitering about the place yesterday, but they did not by any means constitute the whole of the curious spectators. It is a regrettable fact that many were women with babies in their arms, and what is more sad a number were young nursegirls, who in their morning and afternoon walks, took the children in their care to the scene.

  Newspaper reporters make no claims to have interviewed staff at the gaol but from the colourful and emotional reports of her behaviour it appears they must have. Either that or they simply invented what they thought a likely scenario. They wrote of her distress when she returned to her cell after the coroner’s inquiry, giving way to ‘copious tears’, and of her sleepless night due to her great remorse. According to the Advertiser it was only after she was exhausted by her grief that ‘nature asserted itself and she was compelled to sleep’. This is an extraordinarily sympathetic view of the perpetrator of such a brutal crime. That she was remorseful is a given, but this account is so embellished it reads more like fiction than a newspaper report.

  McCluskey is described as a most sensitive woman, and as she is not robust in health, it may be readily understood that the strain upon her system is most severe. Yesterday afternoon the woman was particularly upset, and was at times hysterical. She is being attended by a female warder, and as in all cases where a person is on remand on a capital charge, she is under the care of the medical officer of the gaol. However, she does not give the gaol authorities any trouble.

  Dr Boyd’s statement at the inquest is neither emotional nor embellished. He states that he went to the house with the police and then describes finding the bodies of the children:

  In the garden I found the body of one of the children known as Dorothy McCluskey, this is the first one I saw – I found the body of Ida Helen about twenty five paces from the body of Dorothy, this body was also outside – the third was that of a body which I found on the basement floor at the foot of the stairs leading to the upper rooms – This was the body of Eric George – I examined the bodies where they lay – The three children were dead – The body of Dorothy was lying face downwards with her head turned towards the left side – The right was lying across underneath her body – She was dressed and had shoes and socks on but no hat – There was a deep wound on the left side of the neck reaching down to the spine – Another wound was an inch above the first one – There was a compound comminuted depressed fracture of the skull at the back of the head at the right side – Blood had flowed from this body for a distance of two or three yards – The body of the girl known as Ida Helen was found lying on its back with the arms stretched out from the body – There was a thin botton (sic) cap on the head tied under the chin – The blood on this cap had congealed and dried – There was wound on the left side of the neck a bruise on the left cheek bone and a compound comminuted depressed fracture of the skull above and behind the left ear – The body of the boy Eric George was lying on its back – The head was lying in a quantity of blood and some brain matter – There was a wound in the front of the neck opening into the upper part of the windpipe – There was also a transverse wound across the back of the neck. There was a compound comminuted depressed fracture of the skull on the right side above and behind the right ear – Brain matter was exuding from this wound – There was a wound from the left forehead and another smaller one higher up – A piece of skull bone was sticking to the lining of a man’s vest which hung on a peg in the wall close beside this body, splashes of blood and brain matter were on this wall –

  Dr Boyd’s statement concludes that the skull fractures could have been caused by the tomahawk (produced in court) and the other cuts could have been caused by the knife, also in evidence. He also states that he saw Camellia at
the watch house on the evening of the same day and she had some ‘superficial scratches’ on her neck and her wrist which could have been caused by a knife. He was asked for a report on her mental condition but he refused to give any, as he had not examined her ‘as to her mental condition. He simply examined the cuts on her neck and hand – he was anxious to ascertain whether she was left or right-handed although he did not ask her that. He also asked her about her courses owing to some blood-stained rags he had seen in the house and she had stated she had been bad about the last week in July.’

  Amidst the coldness of the legal and medical language we read that Camellia’s anger lasted long enough to shatter the skulls of all three of her children. Dorothy had been pushing one of the children around in the pram when George left, and it appears that she was still outside with Ida. As the eldest at four she may have felt to some degree responsible for the twins. Was she asked to watch her little brother and sister while her mother went to post the letters telling police she was about to kill them all? Or was Camellia so overcome with fury she simply stormed out and left them to their own devices? How was she able to sustain such fury while she wrote letters, walked to the letterbox and back and then smashed all the furniture, carefully avoiding the piano, which was in her name and not yet fully paid for?

  Surveyor William Sherrard submitted plans of the house to the inquest, identifying the locations of the bodies and also where the tomahawk was found on the ground. He describes the house as ‘standing up in front with a basement underneath’ containing six rooms with another three in the basement.

  Mr. S. Leggo, who worked with George and was acquainted with Camellia, testified at the inquest that he had seen her at about 12.15, carrying two letters and walking ‘at a fair pace’ towards the city. She did not acknowledge him, but glared at him as if something was wrong. He saw her again later the same day around three o’clock in View Street, which must have been when she was on her way to the police station. Leggo was the witness who saw the scuffle between George and Camellia during which he took a razor from her at George’s request. There is no indication as to whether he was related to George’s employer, Mr. H. Leggo.