Transcription
Today we are looking at a case from the start of the 20th century. So sit back as we go to Australia. [Music]
Ivy Mitchell was born on the 10th of January 1902 in Grafton in New South Wales in Australia, which at the time was a steadily growing town that sat beside the Clarence River. Ivy was the fifth of six children born to James Alexander Mitchell and his wife Mary, a woman who had come to Australia from Denmark. Ivy, however, did not live in Grafton for long as the family soon relocated to the town of Sanford in Queensland.
Life took a difficult turn in 1912 when her mother passed away, leaving a quiet void in the household that required the family to adjust in her absence. Not long after, her father remarried and Ivy and her siblings quickly had to adapt to the changes. By 1913, Ivy celebrated her 11th birthday.
Growing up in a country that had only recently taken political shape through the Federation of the Colonies in 1901, she had watched Australia adjust to its new framework of governments and the gradual unification of the states. Yet, this was only one layer of the nation's story. For the land itself carried the presence of indigenous Australians whose cultures stretched back tens of thousands of years and remained central to the identity and heritage of the continent even as the new political order took hold.
Life for the family was good and people believed that Australia was a land full of possibility and promise. Ivy was a pleasant and obedient girl, careful with her chores and regular in her schooling. She was well-liked by those who knew her. And her days were spent attending school, helping at home, and enjoying time playing outside with friends.
On Sunday, the 8th of June 1913, she and her family went to church, and afterward, she went to the home of a friend, 7-year-old Mary Fr. She arrived there at 11:30 in the morning, and the two played happily for a few hours. At 4:30 in the afternoon, Ivy prepared to return home. She told Mary that she didn't want to be walking in the dark, that her house was about 2 mi away along dirt roads that wound through quiet stretches of scrublands and into open country with hardly a house in sight.
The two girls stopped playing, and Mary walked with her friend for the first half mile before saying goodbye and returning home. She gave her some flowers and some lollies and watched as Ivy set off along the path.
As darkness fell, Ivy's 16-year-old brother, James, grew worried, as she had not returned. It was not like her. She was always home before nightfall. So, he decided that he should go and look for her. He took the lantern and made his way on the dirt track, calling out her name until he arrived at the FR's home. When he asked Mr. FR if his sister was still there, Mr. F replied that she had left hours earlier. For a moment, James stood still, unsure of what to do next. Then, growing more anxious, he turned around and ran back to his house to tell his father that his sister was missing.
Mr. James Mitchell, without wasting a moment, gathered himself together and set out with his son, James Jr., and his eldest daughter, Minnie, to look for Ivy. They searched along the streets and nearby paths, calling her name as they went. Other people came out and assisted, all anxious to find the little girl. Eventually, they saw some footprints in the dirt that at first appeared to be from an adult male, but after a short distance, these larger footprints were joined by smaller ones. Under the lantern's flickering lights, they traced them into the thick scrub behind the Park Estate School, and they soon noticed that the tall grass had been crushed, as if something heavy had been dragged across it. Then to their horror, they saw Ivy's body abandoned in the scrub, and it looked like her throat had been cut.
A message was sent to Samford Post Office, and news of the discovery was quickly relayed to the police. Deeply concerned and aware of the seriousness of the case, senior inspector Garrett acted without delay; he gathered several officers and accompanied by the government medical officer named Dr. Dods. He hurried to the scene. They arrived at around midnight and began their investigation. The girl's body was lifted from where it lay among the grass and carried to the roadside. It was placed on a rug and carefully covered with a sheet. Investigators then marked two clear footprints and covered them with boxes while twigs were laid out to indicate the line of other tracks that led away from where the girl had been found. Two police officers were placed at intervals along the surrounding roads just in case the murderer had not fled and was still nearby. Meanwhile, despite the hour, the remaining officers began to carefully search the immediate area, questioning anyone they encountered and examining the scene for clues. Later, plaster casts were made of the footprints in the hope that they could be used in evidence.
News of the murder spread quickly through the small, tightly-knit community, and soon it seemed that everyone had learned about the shocking details of the terrible crime. People were horrified that such violence could reach their quiet streets, struggling to comprehend how a young girl could meet such a fate. It was the only conversation in homes and shops. As everyone tried to piece together what exactly had happened to Ivy Mitchell, Ivy's body was taken to the hospital mortuary where Dr. Dods conducted an autopsy. He confirmed that the cause of death was a severe cut to her throat, but the cuts to her hands and arms also suggested that she had valiantly tried to defend herself. Tragically, he also determined that the poor girl had been violated.
In an effort to gather information, officers spoke with local residents, asking if they had seen anything unusual. One man they spoke to was a farm laborer named Alexander Gordon. He told them that about 5 in the evening, he had been near the schoolhouse where he said he had entered the school garden to pick a couple of oranges from a tree. As he began walking back to his home, he said that he saw Ernest Austin, a local farm hand, galloping past on horseback. Mr. Gordon added that Mr. Austin called out a brief good night and appeared to have a small tree branch in his hand. This was very intriguing for the police as horse hoof prints had been found near the scene. They had followed these hoof prints to the water tank by the school where they discovered another footprint that matched those found in the scrub. Officers believed that the man who had murdered little Ivy Mitchell had escaped on horseback. Additionally, they recovered the sole and heel of a boot, both discarded in the scrub.
Following this, the officers spoke to other residents in the area, many of whom also recalled seeing Ernest Austin riding that evening. While the general account of his movements was consistent, most remembered that he carried a riding whip rather than a small tree branch. These varying observations gave the police several minor discrepancies to consider as they pieced together the events of that late afternoon.
Senior Inspector Gerity sent officers to speak to Mr. Austin. But before they did, another man named John Loft came forward with a statement. He was also a farm laborer and worked on the same property as Ernest Austin. He said that he had seen Mr. Austin the previous night scraping the sole of his boot with a knife. He said that when Mr. Austin realized that he was there, he suddenly looked up and asked him if he knew where the pincers were kept. Mr. Loft said that he told him where to find them. And Mr. Austin went off to get them. Looking at the officer, Mr. Loft said that when Mr. Austin returned, he set about pulling the soles from his boots. The officers found this quite significant, especially in light of the boot sole that had already been discovered in the scrub nearby.
Not long after, Ernest Austin was taken into custody and interviewed by the police. He said that he worked on a farm at Cedar Creek owned by Mr. Jim Fog and denied having any involvement in the murder of the girl. The officers continued to question him and eventually, at around 8, detectives Par and McCarthy led Ernest Austin to the mortuary to view the body. Outside, a small crowd of onlookers had gathered, some drawn by morbid curiosity, others by a sense of grief and disbelief at the unfolding tragedy. The men entered the room where the little girl's body lay, and when the sheet was lifted, Ernest Austin looked down at her and without any visible emotion, simply said that he did not know who she was. However, the police believed that they had enough evidence and charged him with murder. [Music]
The following morning, a preliminary hearing began at the city police court where Ernest Austin was brought before the bench to answer the charge. Many people were outside, eager to get a glimpse of the man that most of them had already decided was guilty of this most heinous crime. Presiding over the hearing was Mr. E. Eglesen, the police magistrate. The accused was introduced under his true name, Ernest Austin, though it was noted that he also went by the alias of Ernest Johnson. He was 23 years old, worked as a farm hand, and was originally from the state of Victoria. The usual formal proceedings were followed, including the reading of the charges and the establishment of the basic facts with the magistrate noting the key points of the investigation, witness statements, and the physical evidence already recovered. Following the hearing, Mr. Austin was held in police custody for 8 days so officers could continue their inquiries, examine the scene further, and gather additional evidence before the case was committed to a higher court.
The police looked into Mr. Austin's background and discovered that he had a long record of offending which stretched back to his boyhood. At the age of 11, he had been caught stealing and was placed under the supervision of the neglected children's department. His criminal career had continued into adulthood where, in late 1909, under the alias Ernest Johnson, he was convicted of assault with intent to violate a girl and sentenced to three years imprisonment, which he served in Melbourne prison. When the authorities learned the details of this offense, a sense of eerie familiarity hung over them as they realized that the crime bore a disturbing resemblance to the attack on Ivy. In this crime, Mr. Boston had dragged a 12-year-old girl into a shed while armed with an axe, only abandoning the assault when her screams drew too much attention and forced him to flee.
The soles cut from Ernest Austin's boots were recovered and found to correspond exactly with the footprints discovered near Ivy's body. The hoof prints of his horse also matched those left at the scene, further linking him to the crime. Investigators concluded that he had committed the murder and, in a futile attempt to cover his tracks, had hurried to the school's water tank where he washed the blood from his hands and clothing before returning home. Senior Inspector Gerity was convinced beyond doubt that Ernest Austin was the person responsible for this most dreadful crime and formally charged him with murder. Mr. Austin was then confined to prison to await his trial.
The trial began on Wednesday the 27th of August 1913 and from the outset, it drew considerable interest with members of the public eager to follow the proceedings of such a shocking case. Reporters gathered to record every detail for the newspapers and crowds lingered outside the courts waiting for news of what was happening inside. The atmosphere was charged with curiosity and unease as the community looked at the trial for answers and ultimately for justice. When asked how he pleaded, Mr. Austin replied, "Not guilty."
Constable Johnson took the stand and provided detailed testimony. He described arriving at the scene where he saw the little girl's body and later he was instructed to gather evidence. He recounted that on the morning of the 9th of August, he and a fellow officer encountered a man named James Fox on the Cedar Creek Road who handed them a pair of boots that apparently belonged to Mr. Austin. The constable said that later that day, he and Detective McCarthy approached Mr. Austin outside a farm and questioned him about the boots. He said that Mr. Austin admitted that they were his. The constable said that following this, they also retrieved a shirt, trousers, a pocket knife, a stick, a jacket, and a saddle from his room, all of which were stained with blood. When Constable Johnson was asked if it was human blood, he replied that the police laboratory had confirmed that it was. These articles were all produced in court as evidence.
The prosecution placed particular importance on the stick and a piece of leather found near the girl's body. Witnesses identified them as belonging to Mr. Austin, though when shown the stick, Mr. Austin denied any knowledge of it. The boots were very important for the prosecution. Detective Constable Apprentice also gave testimony and explained that the distinctive impressions found near the scene matched Mr. Austin's footwear exactly. He said that the boots Mr. Austin wore were fitted with iron heel plates and that the left plate of a broken crossbar which had left a fragment of iron turned the wrong way, which then produced a unique and unmistakable footprint. The constable said that Mr. Austin had also been cutting the heels and the soles from his boots, an act that, in his opinion, suggested that he may have been attempting to conceal evidence. When questioned, Mr. Austin denied any involvement in the crime. He said that the stains on his clothes came from killing calves a fortnight earlier and could not say how human blood had come upon them unless it had been his own. The court further heard how, once confined to prison, Mr. Austin attempted to take his own life and had allegedly admitted to the crime, telling acting sergeant Roach that he did indeed murder Ivy Mitchell. The prosecution highlighted to the court that every article of clothing removed from Mr. Austin's room was marked with blood. Even though the evidence seemed to be mounting against him, Ernest Austin sat unemotional throughout.
Mr. Farhey for the defense countered all the claims from the prosecution, insisting that all the evidence was only circumstantial. He argued that even assuming the blood found on the clothing was human, the prosecution's experts were unable to confirm whether it was recent. He went on to say that if his client was truly guilty, people would have seen the blood on his clothes. Yet, when he met Mr. Weber on the evening of the murder and later saw Mr. and Mrs. Loft and their children, no one had noticed anything unusual, such as blood on his clothes. Mr. Farhey insisted that a guilty man would have tried to hide the evidence, but Mr. Austin did nothing of the sort, and there was nothing extraordinary in his appearance. Mr. Farah then urged the jury not to read anything sinister into the removal of the boot soles and said that it was very unlikely that a guilty man would have removed them so openly.
When he finished his closing argument, the judge summed up the case and the jury retired at 3:21 p.m. They did not return till after 1:00 p.m. the following day. When they delivered their verdict, they found Mr. Ernest Austin guilty. The judge then sentenced him to death.
On the 22nd of September 1913, Ernest Austin was led to the gallows at Bogar Road Jail. Before his execution, he confessed to the crime and said that he was very sorry for what he had done. He was then hanged. He was buried in unconsecrated ground at South Brisbane Cemetery. Ernest Austin was the last man ever put to death in Queensland. And in 1922, the state became the first in Australia and the first government within the British Empire to formally abolish capital punishment.
However, this was not the last people would hear of Ernest Austin. Since his death, many have claimed to have seen his ghost, adding to his infamous legacy. Stories about Ernest Austin's ghost have spread widely with numerous accounts of his restless spirit still wandering the halls of Bogar Road Jail. These tales often describe his apparition appearing on stormy nights, his spectral presence serving as a haunting reminder of the crime he committed. The jail, known for its dark history and eerie atmosphere, has become a place where many visitors and staff report unexplained and chilling encounters, which only fuels the belief that Ernest Austin's spirit is still amongst us.
Hello everyone, and thank you so much for listening. As usual, please leave any comments or feedback you may have, and I hope to see you all again in the next brief case.