Days of future past
Sheep rustling was once a crime punishable by death, least ways in the times of our colonial forefathers.
Ninety years ago the penalties were less severe. The schemes could also be more ingenious. In January of 1929 Te Kuiti farmer William Gadsby mislaid 59 ewes. He charged his farm manager, one Llewellyn Flux, with their recovery. Flux’s investigation led him to an adjacent property, one owned by Herbert Henry Ellis.
Ellis conceded that a flock of that number had briefly wandered onto his paddocks. As to their current whereabouts, he feigned ignorance. Ellis had in
fact hatched a cunning plan. The sheep had presented themselves. All he had to do was to get them to market. Under ordinary circumstances this would have involved using the nearest railway station. Instead, he drove them four or five miles further up the road. There they were loaded for Frankton. Ellis himself travelled onto Otorohanga, sending a wire under the assumed of ‘‘B. L. McNair’’. Mr McNair requested that the Loan and Mercantile Agency of Hamilton sell the stock on his behalf.
Despite bearing the Gadsby brand, the sheep fetched over 56 pounds. Seeing no need to launder his ill gotten gains, Ellis merely deposited the cheque into his own bank account. This alone would not have been his undoing. Unfortunately, an error was made by the agency. They had omitted to pass on a small freight charge. When they wrote to ‘‘McNair’’, requesting reimbursement, no reply was forthcoming. The fictitious are tardy with their correspondence.
Confronted with the facts,
Ellis insisted that McNair existed. He produced a number of letters between himself and his alleged criminal overlord.
At trial the Crown case hinged on expert testimony. It was demonstrated to the jury that McNair’s hand writing had unmistakable similarities to Ellis’. The latter was convicted and sentenced to 12 months imprisonment. The magistrate expressed ironic admiration for Ellis’ ‘‘considerable fertility of resource’’, which ‘‘he had used to cover up his felony’’.