Logans Ghost

Brisbane 's oldest ghost story (really two stories in one) concerns the most controversial figure in the city's early history, Captain Patrick Logan of His Majesty's 57 th Regiment of Foot, Commandant of the Penal Settlement at Moreton Bay from 1825 to 1830.

Logan was an efficient administrator who converted the dismal outpost he commanded into a very tight and well run colony, but Logan is not remembered for his good deeds; only his bad. His cruel treatment of the convicts at Moreton Bay earned him the title the Fell Tyrant and made him the subject of one of Australia's best-known folk songs, ‘Moreton Bay', (the song is included at the end of this article) which describes the horrific plight of convicts under his rule. Misconduct earned them up to 300 lashes and many died, strapped to the flogging frame. Logan was feared and despised by the convicts, and the final verse of ‘ Moreton Bay ' rejoices at his violent death.

The Captain was also a courageous explorer who made many journeys. sometimes alone, into the interior, surveying and mapping the wild terrain of this new land Australia .

It was while returning from one of these excursions, riding alone along a bush track in what is now South Brisbane, that Logan met a ghost. The Captain spotted a man in convict uniform a few yards in front of him and, thinking it was an escapee from the settlement, hailed him and ordered him to stop.

Logan expected the figure to run but to his surprise it approached him, reached out a sinewy arm and grabbed one of his stirrups. Logan 's horse took fright and reared. The Captain lashed out with his riding crop but the blow passed straight through the shadowy figure. He spurred his horse to a gallop but the ghost clung on, floating effortlessly beside the terrified horse and rider. It was not until they were nearing the south bank of the Brisbane River that the ghost suddenly let go and disappeared.

Logan 's fear may seem out of character for a ruthless man with an inquiring mind, but something else had unsettled him: Captain Logan had recognised the ghost. It was a convict called Stimson who had absconded, been recaptured at the very spot where he appeared, and died while being flogged on the Captain's orders exactly one month before.

Logan met his own death while on another expedition. He set out with his batman and five trusted convicts on 9 November 1830 to map a creek west of the outpost at Limestone Hills ( Ipswich ). The party was stalked for most of its journey and attacked twice by hostile Aborigines but, despite this apparent danger, Logan went off on his own on 17 October, planning to rejoin the party at a prearranged rendezvous at dusk. When he found he could not reach the spot before nightfall, Logan built a rough shelter and settled down for the night. In the early hours of the morning of the 18th he was attacked and killed by Aborigines- or, according to some historians- by convicts.

At noon that day a party of prisoners working on the river bank at the Moreton Bay settlement spotted Captain Logan, on horseback on the far side of the river, waving to them. None had any doubts about who it was. Two of them downed tools and hastily launched the punt that was used to ferry people across the river and rowed over to pick up their Commandant. When they arrived on the south bank (the spot where Stimson's ghost had disappeared and the Queensland Performing Arts Complex now stands) there was no sign of Logan . He and his horse had vanished into thin air.

At that time Captain Logan's battered body was growing cold in a shallow grave in the bush seventy kilometres inland.

Residents of Ipswich also lay claim to having seen Logan 's ghost in more recent times at the spot where he met his death. There is a small reserve there now, 1.6 kilometres from the junction of Logan 's Creek and the Brisbane River . A night or two spent there (if you can stand the mosquitoes) might reward you with a glimpse of the ghost of the Fell Tyrant.

Moreton Bay

One Sunday morning as I went walking
By Brisbane waters I chanced to stray
I heard a convict his fate bewailing
As on the sunny river bank I lay
I am a native from Erin's island
But banished now from my native shore
They stole me from my aged parents
And from the maiden I do adore

I've been a prisoner at Port Macquarie
At Norfolk Island and Emu Plains
At Castle Hill and at cursed Toongabbie
At all these settlements I've been in chains
But of all places of condemnation
And penal stations in New South Wales
To Moreton Bay I have found no equal
Excessive tyranny each day prevails

For three long years I was beastly treated
And heavy irons on my legs I wore
My back from flogging was lacerated
And oft times painted with my crimson gore
And many a man from downright starvation
Lies mouldering now underneath the clay
And Captain Logan he had us mangled
All at the triangles of Moreton Bay

Like the Egyptians and ancient Hebrews
We were oppressed under Logan's yoke
Till a native black lying there in ambush
Did deal this tyrant his mortal stroke
My fellow prisoners be exhilarated
That all such monsters such a death may find
And when from bondage we are liberated
Our former sufferings will fade from mind