Oddments #3 - an unfortunate end
The Sydney Gazette, 19 January 1806
Many myths about the early years of the colony persist, including the outlandish belief allegedly held by some convicts that it would be possible to walk to China from the settlement at Sydney. Grace Karskens in her excellent book The Colony disputes many of these ideas as simple stereotyping of the ‘criminal classes’: rumours such as these sprung from a need to believe in their stupidity in order to justify the social order. Nevertheless such myths persist, and as it turns out may have been encouraged by the convicts themselves when planning escapes in order to provide cover for other, more realistic plans.
Just such an escape occurred from the Castle Hill penal settlement on 15 March 1803 when sixteen Irish convicts, the majority recently arrived, spread rumours of a planned trek to China before making their escape. Their plan was more likely sleeping rough and preying on outlying settlements for livestock and supplies, and immediately after absconding they engaged in a criminal rampage all but guaranteed to lead to their re-capture:
They at first forcibly entered the dwelling-house of M.DECLAMB , which they ransacked, and stripped of many articles of plate, wearing apparel, some fire and fire-arms, provisions, spiritous and vinous liquors a quantity of which they drank or wasted in the house. They next proceeded to the farm houses of Bradley and Bean, at Balkham (sic) Hills. Mrs Bradley’s servant man they wantonly and inhumanly discharged a pistol at, the contents of which so shattered his face as to render him a ghastly spectacle, in all probability, the remainder of his life. In Mrs Bean’s house they gave a-loose (sic) to sensuality, equally brutal and unmanly. Resistance was of no avail, for their rapacity was unbridled. Numerous other delinquencies were perpetrated by this licentious banditti, whose ravages, however, could not long escape the certain tread of justice.
- The Sydney Gazette, 5 Mar 1803
Over the next few days all but one were discovered and arrested, 11 of them with help from several local Aboriginal people who had discovered their hideout between the Hawkesbury settlement and the mountains. Of the 15 tried for the escape attempt 11 were hanged for their brutal crimes, and two given last minute reprieves from the noose. Only one escapee, James Hughes evaded capture. His reputation was as a tough and violent man, and no doubt the fear of a visit from Hughes gave more than one inhabitant of the outer settlements cause for worry. Hughes however failed to materialise, and was gradually forgotten.
In January 1806 an Aboriginal man approached a settler named Tarlington to report the discovery of the skeleton of a white man on Dharug Country in the Lower Blue Mountains. With help from the local man Tarrington located the skeleton, lying near a rifle and a tin kettle. From the length of the leg bones it was assumed to be Hughes, who was quite tall.
The significance of this story is manifold: it highlights the growing discontent of Irish convicts, many of whom had been active in their resistance of British forces in their homeland before being transported. Tensions at the Castle Hill agricultural penal settlement would foment into the Battle of Vinegar Hill, fought between convicts and British troops near Rouse Hill in March 1804. I was also interested in the depiction of the Dharug people throughout the reporting: in spite of the steady spread of colonists across the land many locals still chose to help settlers on a case-by-case basis. This often helped to keep colonists from discovering Aboriginal camps and sacred spaces as it removed the need for search parties and the like to stray too far into the bush. It also suited locals to have escapees recaptured as quickly as possible, as they posed just as much risk to Aboriginal families living on Country as they did to the settlers in their isolated homes. Armed and dangerous men made for very bad neighbours for everyone.
