A Valley in a Valley: Colonial s truggles over land and resources in the Hunter Valley, NSW 1820–1850

Mark Dunn

A thesis in fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of

Doctor of Philosophy

School of Humanities and Languages

Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences

June 2015

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Abstract 350 words maximum: This thesis investigates the colonial Hunter Valley from the closing years of the penal station at Newcastle in the early 1820s until the end of convict assignment in the early 1840s. It examines the gaps in the historiography of the colonial Hunter Valley, namely the post-contact Aboriginal valley and the place of convicts in the establishment and development of the Hunter. These two groups, highly visible during the period have all but disappeared from the written history of the Hunter. Instead much of the colonial history of the valley has focused on the arrival and settlement of free emigrants, post 1820, who were given access to large grants of land to farm. The legacy of this period can be seen in the remnant grand mansions and homesteads that remain standing throughout the valley, dominating prominent hillsides and riverfront properties. These homesteads are the prism through which much of the colonial history of the Hunter Valley has been viewed. They represent a civilised landscape, a place that was settled by Europeans with seemingly little of the frontier violence and trauma that affected other areas like Bathurst or the . However they are facades behind which hide much of the realities of the colonial Hunter Valley. By a close reading of contemporary letters, journals, reports and documents, the contact and connectedness between Aboriginal people and convict, and free Europeans is examined and the interdependency that each group had on the other revealed. Violence was juxtaposed with co-operation, with alliances and friendships established across race and class. The thesis also considers the role of the physical environment in the process. The colonial history of the Hunter cannot be fully understood without a consideration of the environment of the place itself. The valleys natural resources drew people to it, both Aboriginal and European, while its , forests and mountains, shaped the way they lived, worked and interacted with each other. By returning these lost peoples and elements to the colonial history of the Hunter Valley, this thesis illustrates the complexities, influences and ambitions that shaped the place and its occupants.

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ORIGINALITY STATEMENT ‘I hereby declare that this submission is my own work and to the best of my knowledge it contains no materials previously published or written by another person, or substantial proportions of material which have been accepted for the award of any other degree or diploma at UNSW or any other educational institution, except where due acknowledgement is made in the thesis. Any contribution made to the research by others, with whom I have worked at UNSW or elsewhere, is explicitly acknowledged in the thesis. I also declare that the intellectual content of this thesis is the product of my own work, except to the extent that assistance from others in the project's design and conception or in style, presentation and linguistic expression is acknowledged.’

Signed …

Date ………16 September 2015….

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Contents

Acknowledgments ...... 2

List of Illustrations ...... 4

List of Tables ...... 6

List of Abbreviations ...... 6

Introduction ...... 7

Chapter 1: A Valley within a Valley…………………………………………………………………………………… 41

Chapter 2: Entering an occupied Valley ...... 66

Chapter 3: As fine a country as imagination can form...... 116

Chapter 4: In expectation of receiving an extra grant of land… ...... 142

Chapter 5: We have taken possession of their land ...... 188

Chapter 6: The contact zone ...... 236

Chapter 7: Daily annoyances and petty tyranny ...... 279

Conclusion…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… …330

Bibliography ...... 338

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Acknowledgments

This thesis had its genesis in Wambo homestead, built and owned by an emancipist and threatened by encroaching coal mines in the middle of the Hunter Valley. This fine house and its surviving outbuildings appeared anomalous compared with traditional colonial histories of the Hunter, in which convicts hardly featured outside the bonds and chains of popular history, let alone made good and settled the land.

Thanks must go firstly to Sharon Veale, who supported and encouraged me at the very beginning of the process and continued to provide excellent advice and guidance throughout. Thanks also to my supervisor Associate Professor Grace Karskens, who was encouraging me to pursue the topic before I had begun and generously agreed to take me on as a student when I started. It is hard to imagine approaching the complexities of the colonial Hunter Valley without her vast knowledge, generous help and assurances that it was possible. Thanks also to Dr Ruth Balint who acted as my co-supervisor and stepped into the breach when Grace was overseas.

Thank you to the staff of the State Library of NSW, the specialist’s librarians in the Mitchell

Library and the archivists at State Records NSW, whose knowledge of their vast collections and how to get the most from them was invaluable. Special thanks to Mitchell Librarian

Richard Neville and former Mitchell Librarian Elizabeth Ellis who both pointed me in the direction of a number of obscure collections and references. In Newcastle, thank you to the Cultural Collections Staff in the University of Newcastle archives, especially University

Archivist Mr Gionni Di Gravio.

Many historians, both in academic and public history gave me advice and listened to my ideas over the years. Special thanks to David Roberts, Carol Liston, Terry Kass, Richard

2 Waterhouse, Tanya Evans, Lisa Ford, Paul Ashton, Paula Hamilton, Shirley Fitzgerald,

Matthew Kelly, Julie McIntyre, Nancy Cushing and Lyndall Ryan for advice on convicts, the

Hunter Valley, rural living, colonial life, Aboriginal culture and resistance as well as on research techniques, structure and keeping sane. Paul Irish and Michael Bennett helped enormously with my understanding of Aboriginal history and navigation of the sources available, as did Ray Kelly, who helped with explaining the meaning and significance of the

Aboriginal languages across the Hunter. To my fellow candidates at UNSW, thank you for your advice, questions and answers to my questions about the thesis and the process. To

Meredith Walker, whose tireless enthusiasm and passion for history and heritage, and her promotion of my research to others was extremely generous. Her donation of her large collection of Hunter Valley research material, maps and books made the task that much easier, thank you.

Thank you to Cecilie Knowles, graphics extraordinaire. Your maps make the words make sense.

This thesis would not have been possible without the love and support of my family, particularly my mum and dad, Ruth and Mick Dunn, both descended from first generation

Hunter Valley convicts and proof that convicts stayed on and made lives in the Hunter.

Thank you also to my sisters Jane, Fran, Catherine and brother Peter, who have heard more about the Valley in which we all grew up than they probably wanted to hear.

The biggest thank you to Lisa Murray, fellow historian and partner; your encouragement, advice, love and support, even as you had your own book to write, made the whole thing possible.

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List of Illustrations

Figure Page

Figure 1: The Hunter Valley. (Source: NSW Planning and Environment Commission 10 1977)

Figure 2 : Looking across the steep cliffs and outcrops of the Broken Back Range 47 where it meets the flat lands of the Hunter Valley. (Source: Author’s collection)

Figure 3 : Baiami Cave, Milbrodale showing the human like figure with 63 outstretched arms, surrounded by stencilled hands, boomerangs and axes. (Source: Author’s collection)

Figure 4 : A map of the Hunter Valley showing the approximate areas occupied by 68 the identified Aboriginal people of the area. (Source: Brayshaw, Aborigines of the Hunter Valley )

Figure 5 Grant’s survey ship the Lady Nelson at anchor in the Coal looking 83 from the Newcastle shoreline. (Source: SLNSW PXD 942)

Figure 6 : ‘Ca -la -watum -ba, a native of the Coal River’ c1810. (Source: SLNSW 87 P2/425)

Figure 7 : Grant’s camp on the , 1801 as sketched by J. W. Lewin . 88 (Source: SLNSW PXD 388)

Fig ure 8 : Five Aboriginal men as painted by James Wallis, c1817. (Source: SLNSW 110 PXE 1072)

Figure 9 : The view at the end of Parr’s attempt across the Broken Back Ranges. 120 (Source: SRNSW Fiche 3271)

Figure 10 : Susan Ward, one of only two women grante d land in the Hunter Valley 166 prior to 1825. (Source: SLNSW ML 694).

Figure 11 : Joseph Lycett view across the town of Newcastle in 1818 (Source: 177 Newcastle Art Gallery).

Figure 12 : Morpeth in 1835 . (Source: NLA pic -an4563834 -s17). 178

4 Figure 13 : A sketch by E. C. Close of a settler clearing and fencing his land near 181 Wallis Plains. (Source: SLNSW PXA 1187).

Figure 14 : Henry Reeve, emancipist businessman and stud owner , 1847 . (Source: 186 SLNSWP2/506)

Figure 15 : The layout plan of Alcorn’s hu t as presented to the inquiry into 212 Aboriginal violence in the Hunter Valley. (Source: SLNSW Government Despatches Vol. 8 A 1197)

Figure 16 : Map showing the reported incidents of Aboriginal violence in the 228 Hunter Valley, chronologically between 1825 and 1827. (Source: Author; Cecilie Knowles graphics)

Figure 17 : Robert Scott and his brother Helenus jnr, C1820 (Source: SLNSW MIN 238 354 and MIN 355).

Figure 18 : Robert or Helenus Scott prepares a meal in the bark shelter that served 244 as their first home, August 1823, Glendon. (Source, Scott Papers, SLNSW, A2266)

Figure 19 : Aboriginal guides at work c1826. (Source: SLNSW SSV*/Expl/1) 249

Figure 20 : Aboriginal men build a bark lean -to for a European’s comfort. (Source: 254 SLNSW, James Atkinson, The State of Agriculture & Grazing in NSW , 1826)

Figure 21 : ’s Map of the River Hunter and its branches , 1828. 269 (Source: NLA map nk 646 v)

Figure 22 : Part of an 1840 sale plan for the Castle Forbes Estate. (Source: SLNSW 283 A-1449).

Figure 23 : Robert Scott’s sketch of the battered Jimmy attached to his report on 288 the incident. (SRNSW 4/2182.1 33/8024)

Figure 24 : Old Duninald, home of William Dun from 1823. (Source: Author’s 320 Collection)

Figure 25 : Glendon House, h ome to Robert and Helenus Scott. (Source: Author’s 321 Collection)

Figure 26 : , Henry Dangar’s grand mansion built 1822 –1880s . (Source: 321 Author’s Collection)

Figure 27 : Cecilia Kelly, Phillip Kelly’s widow on the right, outside their house in 331 Bathurst Street Singleton c1904. (Source: Author’s collection)

5 List of Tables

Table Title Page

Table 1 Total area cleared and cultivated, with cattle and sheep numbers 1821 - 172 1828.

Table 2 Total numbers and percentage of free, convict and emancipist 175 population in the Hunter Valley 1825-1841.

List of Abbreviations

AHS Australian Historical Studies

BT Bonwick Transcripts

CSC Colonial Secretary’s Correspondence

GD Governors Despatches

HRA Historic Records of

HRNSW Histor ical Records of

JRAHS Journal of the Royal Australian Historical Society

ML Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales

NLA National Library of Australia

NSWLA New South Wales Parliament, Legislative Assembly

SG Gazette a nd NSW Advertiser

SH The Sydney Herald

SRNSW State Records of New South Wales

6 Introduction

The Hunter Valley, extending inland from the coast at Newcastle, is today one of Australia’s most diverse industrial and agricultural regions. Cut through by four major rivers, the fertile alluvial soils sustain a large wine growing region, feed an increasingly profitable horse breeding industry and support dairy and beef cattle, as well as a multitude of smaller market garden and agricultural farms. Underneath the soil runs a rich, black coal seam that sweeps in a wide band through the valley from its upper reaches to the coast at Newcastle.

The Hunter is a valley within a valley, both physically and metaphorically. In the upper reaches of the Hunter, the rocks show the evidence of an ancient valley, formed during the

Tertiary geological era between 12 and 70 million years ago. This valley has in turn been uplifted by faults and tectonic movements before being cut back into during a prolonged period of stability from the late Tertiary era, 5-12 million years ago. 1 But there is also a double valley in terms of its historical identity. The Hunter Valley is populated by historic towns, with their fine stock of heritage buildings, such as Morpeth in the lower Valley or

Wollombi on its southern fringe, and large colonial homesteads prominently sited on high ridges, along the river or on the outskirts of the towns and villages. These heritage towns and surviving estates, with their genteel settings and ordered landscapes, are the prisms through which much of the Hunter Valley’s colonial history has been viewed. It is a triumphant and sanitised history, one that hides the struggles, the failures and the violence of the colonial frontier. These cultural landscapes mask the convict labour that built them and largely ignore the Aboriginal people that their development displaced. The Aboriginal and convict past is missing in much of the historiography of the Hunter Valley, they exist in

1 W. R. Browne, ‘Notes on the Physiography and Geology of the Upper Hunter River’, Journal and Proceedings of the Royal Society of NSW for 1924 , Vol. LVIII, 131. 7

the hidden valley, the valley that lies behind the heritage façade. It is this unknown valley that this thesis will explore.

In the Hunter Valley today, coal is big business. The extraction of coal is almost exclusively via an open-cut technique, where great swathes of the land are gouged out to expose the seams below. Taking the coal also takes the land and as a result the past decade has seen an increasing tension over the land and its use. The access to resources above and below the ground has strained relations between agriculturalists and miners as each proclaims their right to the land.

Conflict over the land and resources in the Hunter Valley is not a new phenomenon and yet there is little in the historiography about it. This thesis explores this gap in the story by examining the conflict over land and resources in the first decades of European occupation of the Hunter, the period of cross-cultural contact, settlement and development from 1820 until the 1850s. The thesis takes a fine-grained approach to focus on the people, the economic and cultural forces engaged and the wider context of the environment of the

Hunter Valley. It explores the geological formation of the Valley and the role of the rivers in the lives of Aboriginal and Europeans who lived there. The Aboriginal story of the valley and their experience of the European invasion and settlement are also explored. It assesses the European experience, the convicts, the and emigrant landholders.

Finally it will analyse the interactions and dynamics between the people of the valley, their reactions to each other, to the river and the environment and the legacies that these foundation years had on the Hunter Valley itself. The date range, 1820-c1850, reflects the period when the most rapid and dramatic physical and cultural changes occurred (with the notable exception of large scale open cut mining in the years after the 1970s). In these thirty years the patterns of European land use and settlement were laid down and the valley was forever altered.

8 The Hunter Valley is a true valley, surrounded on three sides by mountain ranges and on the fourth by the sea. It huddles around a major river, the Hunter River, navigable for approximately 40 kilometres inland, fed by four other rivers and innumerable streams and creeks. The rivers formed the valley and continue to define it. Rising in the Mount Royal

Range in the valley’s north, the Hunter cuts down through the sandstone plateaus before winding through hilly country in the southwest. After joining the Goulburn River, it flattens out in the mid valley, meandering in great S-curves through the alluvial plains that were so attractive to Aboriginal people and early settlers alike. When Europeans arrived, these floodplains were lightly timbered with wide open grasslands and a park-like appearance

(likely the result of thousands of years of cultivation and fire-stick farming by the Aboriginal people). It was perfect country for both the European grazing herds and flocks, and for the

Aboriginal food sources including the kangaroo, emu, possums, edible plants and yams.2 As the river approaches the coast it spreads into complex system of swamps and mangroves before reaching the sea in a wide harbour at Newcastle. 3

When referring to the Hunter Valley, this thesis is primarily concerned with those areas of alluvial land and rolling hills bounded in the south by the steep ridge lines of the Broken

Back Ranges and the mountainous country of the Wollemi National Park, in the west by the

Great Dividing Range and Liverpool Ranges and in the north by the and

Barrington Tops. The eastern boundary is the coastline from Lake Macquarie in the south to Port Stephens in the north (See Figure1). 4 The enclosure of the Hunter Valley within these mountain barriers, is thus similar to settlements like the Hawkesbury. But the Hunter

2 H. Brayshaw, Aborigines of the Hunter Valley: A Study of Colonial Records , Scone and Upper Hunter Historical Society, Bicentennial Publication No 4, Scone, 1988, pp. 52-55. 3 D. R. Moore ‘Results of an Archaeological Survey of the Hunter River Valley, New South Wales, Australia Part 1: The Bondaian Industry of the Upper Hunter and Goulburn River Valleys’, in Records of the Australian Museum Vol. 28, No.2, August 1970, p. 27. 44 The area roughly corresponds to the Counties of Northumberland, Hunter, Phillip, Bligh, Brisbane, Durham and parts of Gloucester.

9 valley’s geography contrasts to other areas of early colonial expansion such as the Bathurst

Plains and Goulburn region, where squatters established grazing runs across the seemingly endless plains. The confinement of the Hunter contributed to the tensions that arose over access to resources, such as water and arable land, amongst the European settlers and bought Aboriginal and Europeans into closer contact than some of the other colonial settlement areas.

Figure 1: The Hunter Valley , showing the main towns and river systems . (Source: adapted from Helen Brayshaw)

Prior to 1822, the European use of the Hunter Valley had been primarily as a place of secondary punishment for convicts. The penal settlement at Coal River (later renamed

Newcastle) had been established in 1801 to mine the coal that had been discovered there.

Over the next sixteen years this outpost grew into a small, ramshackle town. Although some convicts were given land to farm around the settlement as early as 1812, it was never

10 the intention of the authorities to settle emancipists here for fear that they would encourage runaway convicts and so undermine the effectiveness of the penal settlement. 5

However towards the end of the 1810s, a number of external factors weakened the security of the penal settlement and led to its closure. Pressure for new grassland beyond the (which had suffered drought in 1811-1813 and again 1818-1819), and the need for land to accommodate the growing numbers of free emigrant farmers and pastoralists arriving from Britain, encouraged the exploration of the mountains north and west of the in Sydney’s west, in search of more land. What land there was on the Cumberland Plain and over the Blue Mountains was often reserved for colonial officials, army officers and wealthy new arrivals, leaving the emancipists and colonial born with the land on the margins. 6 In light of this, excursions from Windsor north into the mountains looking for new land and good grass were perhaps unsurprisingly led by native born settlers, such as John Howe, and sons of convicts like Benjamin Singleton.

The eventual discovery of a route through the mountains to the Hunter Valley by a party led by John Howe in 1819-1820, and his favourable reports of the grass and land, appeared to promise a new beginning for many of these smaller, marginalised farmers. 7 Howe wrote to Governor Macquarie describing the country along the river:

5 T. M. Perry, Australia’s First Frontier: The Spread of Settlement in New South Wales 1788-1829 , Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 1963, p.61. 6 R. Milliss, Waterloo Creek: The massacre of 1838, and the British conquest of New South Wales , McPhee Gribble, Ringwood , 1992, p.48. 7 Although the discovery of the route is attributed to Howe, it was his guide, Myles, an Aboriginal man, whom Howe sent ahead of the party, who discovered the route into the valley through the ranges. Whether Myles already knew the way through or not is yet to be ascertained. John Howe to Governor , 27 December 1819, Colonial Secretary’s Correspondence [hereafter CSC], State Records of New South Wales [hereafter SRNSW]Reel 6048 4/1743 pp. 120-125.

11 we came thro’ as fine a county as imagination can form, and on both sides of the

River of upwards of 40 miles will at least average two miles wide of fine land fit for

cultivation and equally so for grazing... 8

The open plains, fine grassland and easy access to the area by ship and river boats made the Hunter considerably more attractive for settlement than for a penal station. In addition, while Howe’s track offered a way into the valley, it also offered a way out, and the authorities believed the route would encourage more runaways from Newcastle. With

Macquarie already in the process of considering a site for a new, more remote place of secondary punishments, these factors combined to hasten the closure of the penal station. 9

The opening of the Hunter Valley to European settlement prompted a land rush. The influx of settlers brought with it rapid and dramatic changes to the environment displaced the

Aboriginal population and soon exposed a growing resentment between small scale agriculturalists and large scale graziers.

European and Aboriginal engagement during the penal years was limited due to the size of the settlement and the controls placed on convict movement. At first the relatively small outpost of Newcastle did not impinge dramatically on the Aboriginal space across the wider

Hunter Valley, or affect their access to resources or ceremonial space. This is not to say there was no interaction or tension. Aboriginal people came into the settlement at

Newcastle and were employed as guides, as trackers of runaways and occasionally on farms around Wallis Plains. There were also reports of early conflicts between farmers and

8 John Howe to Governor Lachlan Macquarie, 21 March 1820, CSC, SRNSW, Reel 6049 4/1744, p. 162-165. 9 Perry, Australia’s First Frontier , p. 60.

12 Aboriginal groups during harvest and examples of attacks on convicts in the bush. 10

Historian Christine Bramble has argued that the use of Aboriginal trackers by the authorities in Newcastle to capture absconding convicts may have laid the foundations for violence that played out between convicts and Aboriginal people in the years after the closure of the penal settlement. 11 This argument and its implications for race relations over the entire early colonial period are further explored in Chapter 2.

However, a measure of cross cultural exchange was also apparent in the first years, as there had been in other parts of the colony. Some evidence of this is provided by Benjamin

Singleton’s account of his first attempt to get through the mountains from Windsor in

1818, when his party fell in with upwards of 200 Aboriginal men, including one, Mawby, who could ‘speak a little English’. 12 These early, complicated interactions and the later implications for the development of relationships in the valley have not been widely explored in histories written about the Hunter Valley. Although the Newcastle convict station and the years prior to the opening of the valley for free settlement are not the primary focus of this thesis, the history of the wider Hunter Valley cannot be properly examined without some consideration of the establishment and, development of the

Newcastle station, particularly with regard to the class and race relationships that were laid down during this period. The thesis thus offers a brief examination of this earlier phase, with a particular focus on the interactions between the Aboriginal and European groups, and the expansion of the European footprint into the Hunter with the increase of timber getting and the rising number of escaping convicts.

10 J. Turner (ed), Newcastle as a Convict Settlement: The Evidence before JT Bigge 1819-1821 , Newcastle History Monographs No.7, Council of the City of Newcastle, Newcastle, 1973, p. 95. 11 Bramble, C, ‘Relations between Aborigines and White Settlers in Newcastle and the Hunter District, with Special reference to the Influence of the Penal Settlement’, Bachelor of Letters in History, University of New , 1981, pp. 64-65, 78. 12 Benjamin Singleton to Governor Lachlan Macquarie, 25 May 1818, CSC, SRNSW Reel 6047 4/1740, pp. 209-214

13 The first Europeans to arrive after 1819 were free, native-born colonists, children of convicts and emancipists, moving out of the Cumberland Plain in search of new grasslands and opportunities. These settlers came overland, driving their cattle along Howe’s track blazed across the Broken Back Ranges from Windsor, and avoiding Newcastle and its administration. The road negotiated the rugged mountains and valleys leading into the middle Hunter Valley, and led to the wide open grassy flats around Patricks Plains (now

Singleton). Settlers were taking land here before the valley was officially surveyed, some receiving grazing permits from the colonial administration, others just following the pioneers. By 1822 there were several families established, grazing sheep and cattle and growing along the river. 13

This semi-official settlement in the mid valley contrasted to the more formal and systematic occupation of the lower valley. Here land was being officially surveyed and granted to newly arrived, free emigrant farmers. As a rule, these settlers were arriving with substantial resources, encouraged by a change in land policy in the early 1820s stemming from Commissioner John Thomas Bigge’s report into the colony. Amongst his recommendations Bigge declared that the future of the colony lay in large estates run by men of capital using convict labour to work them. 14 Land was allocated depending on the amount of capital each settler brought with them. Many came with knowledge of farming, some brought experienced labourers and farmhands, and all were allocated convicts to help work their new estates. These large landholders quickly dominated the valley’s agricultural landscape. As the large estates were established closer to the emancipist farmers, tensions over land began to arise. Emancipist farmers and those small scale native

13 Perry, Australia’s First Frontier , p.65. 14 J. T. Bigge, Report of the Commission of Inquiry into the State of the Colony of New South Wales , Volume 1, House of Commons, London, 1822, p. 157; See also E. Rolls, A Million Wild Acres , Penguin Books, Ringwood (Vic), 1984, p. 58; C. J. King, An Outline of Closer Settlement in New South Wales: Part I-The Sequence of Land Laws 1788-1956 , Department of Agriculture, Sydney, 1957 p. 26.

14 born land owners felt they were being forced from land that was rightfully theirs through their own hard labour or their colonial birth right. By 1828, out of 191 landholders who lived in the valley, 91 (47%) owned estates of 1000 acres or more, with some owning between 10,000 and 20,000 acres. 15 Of these only two were owned by emancipists, six by free colonial born, and 83 by new emigrants, the majority of whom had arrived after 1821.

The bigger estates were largely worked by convict labour, to the extent that in 1828 the

Hunter Valley had the second highest proportion of male convicts in New South Wales

(after Bathurst) at 69%. 16 What did such a high proportion of convicts mean for the development of the Hunter Valley? Did it make it more lawless and dangerous? Did it produce a rebellious underclass ready to rise up when the opportunity arose? For some of the larger landholders, who relied heavily on the convict labour to manage their farms and flocks, the convicts were viewed as an unruly rabble that needed to be kept in line with strict supervision and discipline. They complained that the emancipist farmers harboured runaways and encouraged . Their campaigns in newspapers such as the

Sydney Gazette painted a picture of lawlessness bordering at times on chaos. 17 Although there were certainly bushrangers and runaways amongst the convict population, there were considerably more who served their sentence and, after expiration, made their way on the land, as labourers and farmers or moved into the fledgling towns to work and live.

The valley drew people to it because of the opportunities that the resources afforded, and for some, such as emancipist settlers or native born Europeans, it also allowed a new start away from Sydney. The rush of settlement into the Hunter Valley was such that by 1826 all the river-front land as far as the of the Hunter and the Pages Rivers in the

15 Milliss, Waterloo Creek , p. 49. 16 Perry, Australia’s First Frontier , p. 75. 17 B. Walsh, ‘The politics of convict control in colonial New South Wales-“the notorious OPQ” and the clandestine press’, Journal of The Royal Australian Historical Society [hereafter JRAHS ], Vol. 96 Part 2, 2010, 160.

15 western foothills of the Barrington Ranges had been alienated, or reserved for villages or school and church estates. 18

The Hunter, Williams and Paterson Rivers were the lifeblood of the valley and the thread around which the farms grew. While the alluvial flats adjacent to them were central to the development of the Hunter Valley and access to their rich soil played an important role in relations between the different settler groups as well as between Aboriginal and settler society, access to water was a central consideration for all. Prior to European invasion, the rivers were used by Aboriginal people for a variety of purposes including travel, as trade routes, to catch fish, gather shellfish and for their water supply. European settlers, surveyors and explorers all wrote of seeing Aboriginal people using the rivers and

Newcastle Harbour, fishing in it, gathering shellfish and getting about in canoes, much as they had seen in Sydney. One observer, Edward , reported seeing canoes at

Patricks Plains that could hold 6 to 8 people. 19 The Aboriginal people of the Hunter Valley knew these waterways and their cycles. At least one observer noted that during a flood around Maitland in 1826, Aboriginal people were crossing the flooded plains and fields in

‘canoes made of bark, the ends tied with curridgeon (sic) bark, and sealed with grass tree gum’. 20

The rivers also played a vital role in European settlement in the valley from the beginning.

The initial exploration of the Valley was via the Hunter River heading inland from

Newcastle, while the later exploratory parties of John Howe in the 1820s followed the

Hunter from the grassy plains in the west to the settlement at Wallis Plains (Maitland).

Timber cut from the hinterland forests by convict gangs was floated down the river to

18 King, An Outline of Closer Settlement , p. 29. 19 W.A. Wood, Dawn in the Valley: The Story of Settlement in the Hunter River Valley to 1833 , Wentworth Books, Sydney, 1972, p. 153. 20 Mrs Ellen Bundock, Maitland, 1826, cited in Brayshaw, Aborigines of the Hunter Valley , p. 55.

16 Newcastle to be shipped to Sydney. The river was later used as the ‘main road’ inland, with boats plying people and goods to and from the developing towns such as Morpeth,

Paterson and Maitland.21 Despite the river’s significance there have been few works to date on its role in the valley outside its periodic flood cycle, or its potential to be dammed.

Floods have been a topic of interest for a long time. One of the earliest reports was published in 1857 as Floods and Drainage: Hunter River Report and Maps following the

Great Flood 1857 . However outside an examination of the damage and disruption of the flood cycle (and of these most date from the period after 1955 when devastating floods swept through the Hunter Valley) or the use of the river to transport goods, the role of the river in the lives of the Aboriginal people and the European settlers has remained unexplored. This thesis will present the river as one of the key historical agents in the valley’s colonial story.

Flood narratives can provide valuable information about the role of the river and the relationship of Europeans and Aboriginal people to it. An 1870 Report to the New South

Wales Legislative Assembly, Floods in the Hunter , included interviews with residents of the

Hunter Valley, some of whom recounted changes in the river and the flood cycle from the

1820s onwards. The evidence includes memory of changes in the river flow, the vegetation along its banks and the size of the floods. This is one of the earliest examples of direct interrogation of landholders and their attitude to the environment in the valley. The farmers recognised that despite the devastation of the flooding cycle the process was necessary for the replenishment of the soil they relied on. 22 In her essay, ‘Water Dreams,

Earthen Histories’, historian Grace Karskens has noted the attitude of settlers on the

21 Turner, Newcastle as a Convict Settlement , p. 152. 22 New South Wales Parliament, Legislative Assembly (hereafter NSWLA), ‘Report of Commission appointed to enquire into and report respecting floods in the district of the Hunter River’, 1870, New South Wales Parliamentary Papers 1870/71 , Vol. 4 NSW Government Printer, Sydney, pp. 999-1008, 1009-1171.

17 Nepean at Castlereagh in regards to the regular flood cycle. She notes that the world view of the settlers often turned upon fate and opportunity as much as notions of control, forethought and prudence and as such they continued to build farms on flood prone land, taking their chances with the good and the bad in an almost pragmatic resignation to nature’s cycles. 23 The same world view appears to have manifested itself in the Hunter, with even the surveyor Henry Dangar building his house within the flood zone on the rich alluvial soil of the river bank near Singleton. Some took precautions nonetheless. When interviewed by the commissioners, Mr Alexander McDougall, who had lived in Maitland since 1829, reported that he was not deterred by the likelihood of flooding because he had built his house eighteen inches above the level of the highest flood to date. 24

Much of the historiography on the Hunter Valley can be characterised as either local histories, architectural surveys, industrial studies or official reports. Local history has been one of the most popular forms of historical writing in Australia since the 1950s, as a proliferation of historical societies encouraged the recording of their particular area.

Graeme Davison has shown that the genre has evolved to reflect changing attitudes and concerns over locality and history, but that at its core lay a concern with linking an aspiration for community to a sense of place. 25 Works such as W. Allan Wood’s Dawn in the Valley , Cecily Joan Mitchell’s Hunter’s River , John McGee’s Two and a Half Convicts, I.

M. Simpson’s Pioneers of a Great Valley and W. S. Parkes, J. Comerford and Dr M. Lake,

Mines, Wines & People: A History of Greater Cessnock are examples of the types of local history works produced about the Hunter.26 The majority were written and self-published

23 G. Karskens, ‘Water Dreams, Earthen Histories: Exploring Urban Environmental History at Penrith Lakes Scheme and Castlereagh, Sydney’, Environment and History Vol. 13, No, 2, 2007, 128. 24 Evidence of Mr Alexander McDougall, NSWLA Commission appointed to enquire into floods, 1870, Questions 356-363, p. 13. 25 G. Davison, The Use and Abuse of Australian History , Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 2000, pp. 197-198. 26 W. A. Wood, Dawn in the Valley ; C. J. Mitchell Hunter’s River, CJ Mitchell Estate, Maitland, 1973; J. McGee, Two and a Half Convicts, J. McGee, Wamberal, 1987; I. M. Simpson Pioneers of a Great

18 by individuals or local historical societies in the 1970s and 1980s before the emergence of revisionist research on Aboriginal or convict history. While they contribute important facts to the history and development of the region, they are limited in scope and methodological approach. These histories are often presented in what Davison calls an “elegiac” fashion, with the nostalgic, melancholy of a community that has been lost. 27

These histories also reflect the standard “pioneer” narratives that dominated much of the pre-1988 historiography typical of the Hunter and many other regional studies. John Hirst has noted that the “pioneer legend”, which pervades much of popular history writing on the colonial period, encourages a reverence of the past through its promotion of the heroic individual who succeeds through hard work, perseverance and enterprise. Although it purports to be a classless view, focusing instead on the achievement of hard labour in “the taming of the new environment to man’s use”, this narrative largely ignores the complexities of the colonial past. 28 It is a triumphal history. The Aboriginal people remain shadowy figures in the background or are presented as relics of an extinct people who have bowed in the wake of the progress of European civilisation. 29 Convicts are most often depicted as either rebellious renegades or bushrangers on the fringes, or in many cases, such as Mitchell’s Hunter’s River, barely mentioned at all. The focus is on the larger landholders with their grand mansions and flourishing estates. There is little mention of conflict, and with almost no post-contact Aboriginal history.

Wood’s Dawn in the Valley is a triumphant story of European settlement and development in the Hunter. While it provides a comprehensive account of the early European

Valley , Longworth and Goodwin, Newcastle, 1972; W. S. Parkes, J. Comerford and M. Lake, Mines, Wines and People: A History of Greater Cessnock , Council of the City of Greater Cessnock, Cessnock, 1979. 27 Davison, The Use and Abuse , p. 209. 28 John Hirst, ‘The Pioneer Legend’, Historical Studies , Vol. 18, No. 71, Oct. 1978, 316-319. 29 Davison, The Use and Abuse , p. 200.

19 settlement and detailed histories of individuals and estates its focus, as the title suggests, is on these settlers and their toil in bringing the light of progress to the Hunter. Convicts remain in the background except when being brutally treated by their overseers and while the traditional beliefs, customs, hunting methods and territories of the Aboriginal people of the valley are detailed, Wood’s treatment of post contact history is largely confined to conflict and violence. He is not alone in this view, with few of the local histories of the valley progressing past the story of a disappearing race in the face of European advances, physically, socially and culturally. Peaceful settlement and a story of hard-working, honest

“pioneers” is the main narrative.

These histories utilised a wide range of primary and secondary sources on different aspects of the Hunter Valley, but what is missing from the historiography is a fine grained regional study of the colonial development of the valley as a whole. Together they tell some of the story, although the links and interconnections to the various towns studied are largely overlooked. In reflecting on the history of Newcastle’s commemorative celebrations of various historical events, Eklund noted the selectivity of much of the pre-1988 history.

Historic events were celebrated and simplified as markers of regional or civic progress, effectively imparting a kind of sanctioned public legitimacy. For example, official celebrations in both 1897 and 1947 of the 1797 “discovery” of the harbour by Lieutenant

John Shortland avoided the convict establishment dates of 1801 and 1804, as well as the various convict escapee “discoveries” of the 1790s. Shortland was in fact a naval officer in pursuit of escaping convicts; nevertheless, his re-presentation as a “discoverer” overcame the pervading embarrassment of the city’s convict origins, and also marginalised the convict narrative. Aboriginal people, here mentioned, were used as benchmarks to illustrate how far the European settlement had progressed, thus defining the modernity of

20 the region. The themes of progress and improvement permeated the celebrations and many of the publications and books that followed. 30

T. M. Perry’s Australia’s First Frontier: The Spread of Settlement in New South Wales 1788-

1829 is one of the few substantial works that examines the Hunter Valley in a broader context of colonial settlement. Perry sought in part to apply Frederick Jackson Turner’s

American frontier thesis to an Australian setting. Turner’s theory, although already well dated and highly critiqued by the time Perry adopted it, argued that the frontier experience was a significant force in shaping the United States. Turner had argued that the American frontier stripped newly arrived immigrants of their differences and reformed them as frontiersmen and women which in turn Americanised them. It characterised a steady move away from the influence of Europe and England and toward a homogenised American, including the adoption of aspects of Native American life. 31 Perry argued that regional differences and frontier experiences similarly shaped colonial Australia. However, New

South Wales’ frontier was not a homogenous entity and did not lead to an overall

Australian character, but rather the combination of social class, different climates, land use and the environment transformed the settlers in each region in colonial New South Wales into distinct social, political and economic structures. For example, comparisons with the

Argyle or Cumberland districts show that there were a relatively high proportion of convicts to population in the Hunter Valley, many in service on larger farm estates.32 However it could be argued that in the case of the Hunter Valley there was no homogenising effect across the class boundary when it came to convicts, emancipists and rich emigrant settlers, nor indeed between Europeans and Aboriginal people. Class and race conflict flared

30 Erik Eklund, ‘Official and Vernacular Public History: Historical Anniversaries and Commemorations in Newcastle, NSW’, Public History Review , Vol.14, 2007, 133-135. 31 T. Flannery, The Eternal Frontier: An ecological history of North America and its peoples , Atlantic Monthly Press, New York, 2001, pp. 288-289. 32 Perry, Australia’s First Frontier , p.74.

21 repeatedly in the Hunter Valley throughout the colonial period. Yet Perry does not examine the relationships between the settler classes, the convict experience, Aboriginal responses or the role of the environment.

Perry’s work is also concerned with the ‘set of circumstances producing the outward spread of the broader settlement and the progress of this spread, to describe the advance of Australia’s first frontier’. 33 As Perry acknowledges, it was not so much the lack of land but rather the lack of grass that pushed settlement beyond the Cumberland Plain, and it was reports of fine grass lands from the likes of Howe and others that promoted the

Hunter. The alienation of grazing land on increasingly large farms and estates around

Sydney was to be repeated in the Hunter Valley through the 1820s and 1830s and led to

Perry’s frontier moving rapidly through and then out of the valley.

Perry makes the point that the Hunter had one of the highest proportions of convicts to free settlers of any of the early colonial districts. All of the large estates were heavily populated with convict labourers, while many of the smaller farms worked with the assistance of convicts. But what became of Perry’s convicts? Did they stay in the area, take up farms and raise families? Did they move into the fledgling settlements and form the core of the urban populations? If they stayed, what were relations like between them and their former masters or with the Aboriginal community? How did they react to the environment and landscape? There is evidence to suggest that at least some of the convicts from the Newcastle penal station stayed on in the Valley after their sentences expired or they received tickets-of-leave. John Allen, sent to Newcastle for stealing from his master in 1817, was one of the few convict farmers during the penal station years and

33 Perry, Australia’s First Frontier , p.5.

22 went on to become a constable at on the river before taking land in the

Liverpool Plains. 34

The Hunter Valley is most often examined as a stepping stone to another settlement area.

As Perry’s frontier expanded, the Hunter Valley became a jumping off point to the Liverpool

Plains or further north to New England and beyond. Eric Rolls in his work A Million Wild

Acres examined the Hunter Valley in his wider study of the Pilliga Forest adjacent to the

Liverpool Plains north west of the Hunter. Writing in the early 1980s, Rolls pioneered the then relatively new approach of environmental history to explore the Australian experience. 35 Emerging in 1960s America, environmental history rejected common assumptions that human history was somehow separate from the environment and exempt from ecological consequences. 36 Nature had often been seen as merely a backdrop to the human story, like a stage where the action took place rather then it being one of the historical agents itself. 37 In incorporating nature into the wider historical process, environmental history was then able to question human interactions with nature and the way both reacted and interacted. An early example of changing attitudes to the environment was Sir W. Keith Hancock’s history of the district in southern New

South Wales. Hancock’s work examined the human impact on the land and environment.

While his focus was on the pastoral industry, with little discussion of convicts, small settlers, economic boom and bust or the impact on Aboriginal society, he did investigate the impact of European grazing and farming techniques on the natural grasslands of the area and was an early contributor to the debate about Aboriginal land management and their use of fire to alter the environment. His use of the term “invasion” in reference to the

34 Turner, Newcastle as a Convict Settlement , p.155. 35 E. Rolls, A Million Wild Acres . 36 D. Worster, ‘Transformations of the Earth: Towards an Agroecological Perspective in History’, The Journal of American History , Vol. 76, No. 4, March 1990, 1088. 37 T. Griffiths, ‘The nature of culture and the culture of nature’, in Hsu-Ming Teo and Richard White (eds), Cultural History in Australia , UNSW Press, Sydney, 2003, p. 67.

23 arrival of the first squatters in the region also demonstrates the changing nature of the debate about the incursions of European settlers into Aboriginal country. 38

Environmental history is a comparatively new discipline, as well as innately cross- disciplinary. Thus environmental historians are still defining their field and methodology.

One of the forerunners of environmental history is American historian Donald Worster.

Worster argued that there were three essential levels by which environmental history can be studied: an understanding of nature itself, its organisation and operations; an understanding of the socio-economic interaction between humans and nature (with his main focus being on the production of food) and; an understanding of ‘perceptions, ideologies, ethics, laws and myths that have become part of the individuals or groups dialogue with nature’. 39 Although there has been vigorous debate regarding Worster’s interpretations and theories, in particular surrounding his approach to agriculture and his simplification of complex interactions and cultural differences, his three levels are useful start points for examining the Hunter Valley through an environmental history framework. 40 Worster sees his second level as the most interesting and the least developed conceptually. This concerns the interaction between humans and the environment and an analysis of the modes of production, with particular reference to food production, and the influence of capitalism on the transformation of the environment.

William Cronon argues that the use of food production to illustrate the ‘modes of production’ theory leaves the arguments constricted and unnecessarily narrow. Cultural considerations of different societies and different food cultures are overlooked via the use

38 W. K. Hancock, Discovering Monaro: a study of man’s impact on his environment , Cambridge University Press, London, 1972, pp. 67-69. 39 Worster, ‘Transformation of the Earth’, 1091. 40 Critiques of Worster’s three levels of environmental history include William Cronon, ‘Modes of Prophecy and Production: Placing Nature in History’, and Richard White ‘Environmental History, Ecology, and Meaning’, Journal of American History , March 1990, Vol. 76, No.4 1122-1131 and 1111-1116 respectively

24 of a single phrase to describe large and complex linkages and systems. In terms of the

Hunter Valley the cultural perceptions and attitudes towards the environment differed between the different classes of Europeans as well as between the Europeans and

Aboriginal people and thus informed different approaches to the land and environment.

Worster’s arguments in regards to the transformation of nature via the ideology of capitalism does assist in the understanding of the relationships between the people and the environment of the Hunter. As Worster points out, capitalism created a market for land, and in doing so simplified the complexities of what we call nature into a commodity.

Starting in England, agroecosystems, being a domesticated ecosystem, reorganised for agricultural purposes, were systematically reshaped to intensify the production of food to supply markets and to enhance the accumulation of personal wealth. 41 In the Hunter

Valley, as in other parts of the colonial world, the capitalist view of the environment employed by the European settlers underlined much of the conflict over land and resources that was to follow.

Worster’s second level of understanding is fundamental to any historical study of the conflict and exploitation of resources, as this thesis will explore. Widespread deforestation for the timber resource and for farms changed not only the physical appearance of the

Hunter Valley but affected the native animal populations, altered the vegetation and grasses and changed the flow and flood patterns of the rivers on which the valley depended. However, whereas Worster sees his third level as “so obvious and dramatic that it is in no danger of being neglected by historians”, it has not been examined in relation to the Hunter Valley. 42 This thesis will argue that it was also a clash of ideologies, perception,

41 Worster, ‘Transformation of the Earth’, 1101. 42 Worster, ‘Transformation of the Earth’, 1091.

25 myths and ethics of Aboriginal people and Europeans, emancipist and emigrant farmers which shaped human and environmental interaction in the valley.

In A Million Wild Acres , Rolls connects the environmental story with the human story. Rolls combines detailed historical research with personal stories and memory of his experience farming the land, conveying a strong sense of connection to place. He focuses on the development of a distinct region, looking at forces within and acting from outside. His work demonstrates that the environment is not a “passive backdrop” to the history of the region but is instead an active historical agent; he was one of the first Australian historians to take this approach. His was not the traditional story of land settlement, where the

“pioneers” moved inexorably forward but rather explores the to and fro of settlement, dislocation and change. By integrating the environment with the more traditional settler story, Rolls allows a fuller picture of the competing forces in the history of the Pilliga, and to some extent the Hunter, to be explored. The exploitation of the Liverpool Plains and the forest and the disruption of the traditional Aboriginal land use (such as the burning regime), the arrival of Europeans and of introduced species, changed the Pilliga and it reacted in turn. As an example, the regrowth of the forest as a thick, tangled scrub as a result of the end of Aboriginal fire regimes, forced landholders to change their practices and in some cases forced the abandonment of the land by Europeans. 43

Similar environmental forces were at play in the Hunter Valley. The timber of the valley was harvested from the earliest days of the convict settlement at Newcastle. By 1820 timber getters had moved seventy miles (44km) up the river cutting the timber, particularly cedar. The timber resource drew convict loggers into the then unknown valley. However the removal of the timber also acted to destabilise the river banks, causing erosion and

43 Rolls, A Million Wild Acres , p. 185.

26 silting as well as magnifying the impact of flooding, allowing water to break out across the grass plains and (later) farms. 44

Tom Griffith’s work in environmental history in Australia also connects the natural and the human story. Griffiths shows that although human responsibility remains an important consideration in environmental change, it is not the only force at work and that humans are inexorably bound to the natural world. 45 Writing in the introduction to the edited collection Ecology and Empire: Environmental history and Settler Societies , Griffiths discusses ecological imperialism in relation to Australia. He considers how Europeans had been able to establish themselves so quickly and effectively in far-flung, temperate colonies, creating neo-Europes. It was the combination of the European action as well as the effect that the domesticated plants and animals had on the environment that made the colonisation so dramatically successful. 46 It was an invasion on natural and cultural fronts.

The combination of these forces in the Hunter Valley was as obvious as elsewhere in the colonial landscape. In Hunters and Collectors: The Antiquarian Imagination in Australia ,

Griffiths explores, amongst other themes, the tensions between European and Aboriginal remembering and history telling.47 He reminds us that when telling the history of a shared place, the same story can be told many ways, all of which may be equally valid. Aboriginal people had and have a different sense of the land and place then Europeans. 48 Indeed

Aboriginal reference to country rather than the European preference for the term land introduces this concept at its most base level; communalism versus capitalism. Aboriginal people are part of country rather than owners of it.

44 Turner, Newcastle as a Convict Settlement , p. 76. 45 T. Griffiths, ‘Ecology and Empire: Towards an Australian history of the World’, in T. Griffiths and L. Robin (eds), Ecology and Empire: Environmental History of Settlers Societies , Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 1997, p. 3. 46 Griffiths ‘Ecology and Empire’, p. 2. 47 T. Griffiths, Hunters and Collectors: The Antiquarian Imagination in Australia , Cambridge University Press, Melbourne, 1996, pp. 106-119. 48 Griffiths, Hunters and Collectors , p. 110.

27 More recent studies of colonial Australia and early settlement such as, James Boyce’s Van

Diemen’s Land , Grace Karskens’ The Colony and Babette Smith’s Australia’s Birthstain have direct relevance to this thesis. Boyce sees the convicts as the true founders of the nation, not merely as the subjects of a brutal penal system and the onlookers to history that was otherwise shaped by a smaller group of free settlers. 49 Although convicts have been written back into Australian history since the 1970s, Boyce’s re-examination of their role in

Van Diemen’s Land shows that they played a much more fundamental role in the development of that colony. Convicts embraced the bush as a place of refuge, learnt bushcraft and sustained themselves and their families with native game and foods. Boyce argues that the pre-industrial view of the world and the aspirations of the convicts, coupled with their experience of servitude in the penal colony made them more resilient to the hardships and isolation required to live off the land. 50 While convicts formed the backbone of the colony and the economy, it was later free arrivals through the 1820s and 1830s who were credited historically with the development of Van Diemen’s Land. Through the 1820s, land was granted on an increasing scale to free emigrants, who pushed into what remained of Aboriginal space as well as that claimed by the convict and emancipist landholders, relegating both societies to the margins of the land and the historiography. 51

There are many parallels between Van Diemen’s Land and the Hunter Valley. Although this thesis is concerned with a later period and different colonial space, the opportunities that the bush afforded to convicts and their use of its freedoms is similar. Just as Boyce argues in Van Diemen’s Land , so too the historiography of the Hunter Valley has largely ignored the convict population and their contribution to shaping the agriculture and urban landscape of the valley. As with Van Diemen’s Land, the Hunter Valley was in many ways

49 J. Boyce, Van Diemen’s Land , Black Inc., Melbourne, 2009, p. 253. 50 Boyce, Van Diemen’s Land , p. 256. 51 Boyce, Van Diemen’s Land , p. 159-161.

28 an isolated, enclosed community where a significant proportion of the population was made up of convicts or emancipists, many of whom stayed on in the valley. This thesis will examine how their expectations shaped their work and participation in the community.

Like Boyce, Karskens seeks to re-examine the colonial contact experience of European and

Aboriginal societies, with reference to local context and environmental conditions. In looking at the broader settlement and occupation of Sydney and the Cumberland Plain, she points out that the iron ganged convicts typically portrayed in the popular story of the colony were more often the exception rather than the rule. Convicts and ex-convicts were the farmers, merchants and townspeople of early Sydney, the skilled bushmen and explorers. Further, Karskens shows that Aboriginal people in Sydney did not immediately disappear in the wake of European invasion, but rather occupied a shared space in the town as well as continuing to live in the greater Sydney area throughout the colonial period. Instead of being anomalies, Aboriginal people and their presence were the norm in

Sydney town. Through a combination of an environmental, social and cultural history

Karskens builds a fuller and more elaborate understanding of the experience of colonial

Sydney.52

The absence of convict and Aboriginal stories is not unique to the historiography of the

Hunter Valley. Regional histories such as Duncan Waterson’s history of the Darling Downs

(1968) and Gordon Buxton’s 1967 work on the contain no mention of Aboriginal histories. Where they do, as in Margaret Kiddle’s history of the Western District of Victoria, they are addressed in the context of a traditional, pre-contact existence which is quickly destroyed by European arrival, but with no detailed account or analysis of how this occurred. Convicts and small settlers are similarly ignored. These books present pastoral

52 G. Karskens, The Colony: A History of Early Sydney , Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 2009.

29 histories as progressive, pioneer histories. 53 Tom Griffiths called these omissions of

Aboriginal and convict histories “suggestive silences”.54 He argued that the convict past had been covered up in social and official records by the mid-nineteenth century as a public shame of the darker origins of European settlement. A “convict stain” settled over the collection of colonies as an embryonic nationalism was beginning to stir. Local memories of the harsh elements of the system and tyranny of some of the penal stations added to the banishment of any convict legacy. 55 However since the 1970s a new reflective interest in

Australian history has emerged. Public and social history has grown in popularity and with it new perspectives in Australia’s past have been pursued. The convict story has been one beneficiary of this new historiographical approach, although the Hunter Valley with its large convict society has been somewhat overlooked.56 Erik Eklund has made the point that the convict history of Newcastle, where it has been told, has remained rooted in the pre-1988 historiography which emphasised brutal treatment, inefficient work practices and production and the powerlessness of the convicts within the system. This is also the case for convicts in the valley itself but with even less said about their experiences. 57

Babette Smith’s Australian Birthstain has sought to re-examine the convict experience and explore how the “convict stain” evolved and then pervaded much of the written history.

Smith, echoing Griffiths, argues that “Australia has suffered from a major distortion of its

53 D.B. Waterson, Squatter, Selector, and Storekeeper: A History of the Darling Downs 1859-93 , Sydney University Press, Sydney, 1968; G. L. Buxton, The Riverina: 1861-1891: An Australian Regional Study , Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 1967; Margaret Kiddle, Men of Yesterday: A Social History of the Western District of Victoria 1834-1890 , Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 1961. 54 T. Griffiths ‘Past Silences: Aborigines and Convicts in our history-making’, P. Russell and R. White (eds), Pastiche I: Reflections on 19 th Century Australia , Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 1994, p. 7. 55 Griffiths, ‘Past Silences’, pp. 16-18; Griffiths, Hunters and Collectors , p. 115. 56 Convict studies that have emerged in this historiography include John Hirst, Convict Society and its enemies , Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 1983; Stephen Nicholas (ed), Convict Workers: reinterpreting Australia’s Past , Cambridge University Press, Melbourne, 1988; Grace Karskens, The Rocks , Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 1997; John Molony, The Native Born: The First White Australians , Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 2000. 57 Eric Eklund, 2008, ‘In Search of the Lost Coal Mines of Newcastle’, Coal River Project Cultural Collections, University of Newcastle Archives, p. 2.

30 convict history, a distortion that has been accompanied by an obvious desire to avoid the subject altogether”.58 Her research has come out of an increasingly robust family history sector in Australia, which Smith says is the driving force behind the reappraisal of convict histories in the 1970s and 1980s. By examining a sample of 1100 convicts spread across the transportation era and using a wide range of primary documents and sources, Smith looks beyond the official accounts to the convict lives to recreate convict society and convict attitudes. Smith shows that the “convict stain” that helped suppress the convict story was deliberately fashioned through the actions of Government and church officials and members of the anti-transportation league. It was not the result of any particular shame on the part of the wider convict or even non-convict population. 59 However it was enforced, the perception has distorted the history of convicts and their place in colonial

Australia. As evidenced in the historiography of the Hunter Valley, convicts either do not rate a mention or they are part of a sensational story of brutality and violence.

Convicts and their families formed the backbone of the developing towns and rural settlements, a fact that played out equally in the case of the Hunter Valley, where the large proportion of convicts played important roles in the day-to-day operations of the towns and small farms, as they did on the large estates. In the country, many convicts interacted with Aboriginal people, and with local environments, and, while some escaped, planned revolts or continually bucked against the system, most got on with their lives and in the process transformed the country around them.

Rather than confining the convicts to a natural prison, the nature of the settlement and the surrounding bushland in many cases actually allowed them remarkable mobility. 60

58 B. Smith, Australia’s Birthstain: The startling legacy of the convict era , Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 2008, p. 2. 59 Smith, Australia’s Birthstain , p. 300. 60 Karskens, The Colony , p. 306.

31 Examples of this freedom, interaction with Aboriginal people and reaction to the landscape by convicts, are evident in the Hunter Valley. , a convict and , was assigned to the Hunter Valley in the 1830s, serving his time on a remote outstation in the

Upper Hunter. Towards the end of his life in the 1870s Cash published an autobiography which including his time in the Hunter Valley. Although Cash’s memoir of his illustrious career, in particular his bushranging days in Van Diemen’s Land, needs to be treated with some caution, his discussion of life as a convict stock keeper in the Hunter Valley rings true, and includes some interesting observations. Cash spent long hours herding cattle in the mountains around the modern town of Denman, getting to know its valleys, forests and rivers. Instead of being intimidated by the Australian bush, Cash grew to admire it. On surveying part of the Upper Hunter, Cash marvelled at the valley’s verdure, “the fertility of which I believe is not to be surpassed in any quarter of the globe, the grass as far as the eye could reach having all appearance of young ...”.61

Karskens refers to the “nefarious geographies” of the bush, a place often referred to in the historiography as being feared and despised by convicts, but one which on closer reading actually allowed a liberating sense of freedom and movement, as much as terror and bewilderment. 62 The isolation of stations in the Upper Hunter meant Cash and other convict shepherds were often left to their own devices. Living in the bush, they became acquainted with Aboriginal groups in the area, striking up friendly relations and becoming familiar with their customs and manners. Cash and other convicts bartered with them for fish and learnt new fishing techniques from them, although he also hints at a more sinister

61 J. D. Emberg and B. T. Emberg, (eds), The Uncensored Story of Martin Cash: The Australian Bushranger as Told to James Lester Burke , Regal Publications, Launceston, 1991, p. 15. 62 Karskens, The Colony , p. 307.

32 interaction, naming at least one convict shepherd who he later heard had been involved in the massacre at Myall Creek in 1838. 63

Other than the work undertaken by archaeologist Helen Brayshaw in the 1980s, Aboriginal stories after contact are also largely overlooked in the historiography of the valley. Despite a recent reappraisal of Aboriginal history generally, few have examined the reaction, relationships and resistance of the Aboriginal groups in the Hunter Valley. 64 We know they came into contact with early explorers in 1818 as demonstrated in Benjamin Singleton’s journal.65 As previously noted, Singleton came across 200 men in the ranges. Local historian Andy Macqueen, has speculated they may have been congregated at a sacred site nearby and were attempting to discourage the European party from getting too close. 66

Aboriginal people also continued to live close to the convict settlement in Newcastle in

1820s. The convict artist Joseph Lycett painted numerous Aboriginal scenes, showing contests, hunts, fishing expeditions and family groups around Newcastle and Lake

Macquarie. Historian John Maynard sees Lycett’s work as capturing the ongoing connections of Aboriginal people to their land and culture, and demonstrates Lycett’s close association with the people and a mutual respect. 67 While Lycett’s paintings are stylised to some extent, ignoring the Aboriginal presence in the town, his paintings do hint at a reality that remained in the region. Indeed some show European and Aboriginal men together, returning from hunting, occupying the same space, although mostly the Aboriginal men or

63 Emberg and Emberg, Martin Cash , p. 10. At least 30 Aboriginal men, women and children were murdered at Myall Creek. See J. Connor, The Australian Frontier Wars: 1788-1838 , UNSW Press Sydney, 2002, pp. 102-122. 64 Brayshaw, Aborigines of the Hunter Valley ; see also G. Blyton, D. Heitmeyer and J. Maynard, Wannin thanbarran: a history of Aboriginal and European contact in Muswellbrook and the Upper Hunter Valley , Aboriginal Reconciliation Committee, Muswellbrook, 2004. 65 Cited in J. Jervis, ‘The Route North: An Early Exploratory Journey Performed by Benjamin Singleton in 1818’, JRAHS, Vol. 22, Part V, 1936, 373. 66 A. Macqueen, Somewhat Perilous: the Journey of Singleton, Parr, Howe, Myles and Blaxland in the Northern Blue Mountains , A Macqueen, Wentworth Falls, 2004, p. 75. 67 J. Maynard, True Light and Shade: An Aboriginal Perspective of Joseph Lycett’s Art , NLA Publishing, , 2014, pp 9 and 14.

33 families are on the periphery, looking in (See Figure 11).68 There were still groups of

Aboriginal people in the Upper Hunter in the 1830s as reported by convict shepherds such as Martin Cash. But these are just glimpses and there has been little detailed research.

Although they may not appear extensively in the historiography, Aboriginal people did not fade away or leave the valley. Even after the reported conflicts in the middle and upper valley through 1825-1826, during which soldiers were dispatched on reprisal raids,

Aboriginal people remained. Helen Brayshaw’s Aborigines of the Hunter Valley: A study of the colonial records presents nineteen descriptions and encounters with Aboriginal people taken from European journals and letters between 1802 and 1832. 69 Building on these sources, as well as official reports and the writings of settlers and missionaries like the

Reverend L. E. Threlkeld, this thesis will parallel the Aboriginal story and experience with that of the Europeans, beyond the standard frontier and conflict narrative presented in works like Wood’s Dawn in the Valley or Millis’ Waterloo Creek .70

The relationship between emancipist farmers and emigrant landholders is also vague in

Hunter Valley historiography. The emigrant farmers were the ones who built the grand mansions and farm estates most commonly documented in local histories of the valley.

These houses, some of which remain in the landscape, speak of the success of the occupation and the taming of the land. They stood separate from the small emancipist holdings and from the fledgling towns; their occupants saw themselves as the landed gentry, above both their emancipist neighbours and, often, the law. Sandra Blair has studied the antagonism between the emigrant and emancipist famers in her article ‘The

Revolt at Castle Forbes: A Catalyst to Emancipist Emigrant Confrontation’. She argues that

68 For examples of Lycett’s work in the Hunter Valley see J. McPhee (ed), Joseph Lycett: Convict Artist , Historic Houses Trust of NSW, Sydney, 2006. 69 Brayshaw, Aborigines of the Hunter Valley , pp. 52-57. 70 N. Gunson (ed), Australian Reminiscences and Papers of LE Threlkeld: Missionary to the Aborigines 1824-1859 , two volumes, Australian Institute of Aboriginal Studies, Canberra, 1974.

34 the 1833 convict uprising at Castle Forbes was the catalyst for wider discontent in the

Hunter and developed as a focal point for opposition to the larger landholders by the emancipists and their allies. 71 For their part, the emigrants complained that the emancipists fraternised with their convict servants, harboured runaways and supported bushrangers. The emancipists thought of the emigrants as ‘Johnny-come-lately’s’ pushing their way into the valley at the expense of their small scale farms. Boyce describes this process in Van Diemen’s Land as “The Coming of Little England”, when the new ideas of private property and possession of land title came into conflict with the older settlement of emancipist farmers. 72 These people, as well as the Aboriginal population, were dismissed as being in the way and were pushed aside. The same process occurred in the Hunter

Valley in the 1820s and, although the emancipist farmers had not been established as long as they had in Van Diemen’s Land, the conflict was pronounced and hotly contested.

The fight was not only over the land, resources and production capabilities of the valley. It was also over who had the right to be there. The conflict between the classes shaped the attitudes of the settlers and to some extent galvanised colonial politics more broadly. This was particularly the case after the convict mutiny at Castle Forbes and the response of the owner, James Mudie. The reaction of the emigrant farmers and the small scale native born or emancipist settlers to the revolt and the subsequent execution of five of the convicts involved offer a window onto the class relations at the time. Native-born Europeans assumed a sense of entitlement to the land, as did many of the emancipists, who felt they had served their time and deserved some allowances. Many believed the colony had been intended for them, with the small grants of farming land being given out to ex-convicts seen as proof of their inheritance. For many, their time in the colony and in the Hunter

71 S. J. Blair ‘The Revolt at Castle Forbes: A Catalyst to Emancipist Emigrant Confrontation’, JRAHS , Vol. 64, Pt 2, 1978, 101. 72 Boyce, Van Diemen’s Land , pp. 152-154.

35 pre-dated the arrival of the free emigrants. They had already begun to establish themselves, and, in some cases, their families on the land and were laying down the foundations of the European society that would later develop. 73 Furthermore, they lived on their farms while many of the larger estates were run by absentee landlords. John

Moloney in The Native Born: the First White Australians argues that a dominant underlying question in colonial society concerned the alienation of land and who it should be given to.

This was itself a doubled edged argument in that land was being taken from the Aboriginal people to whom it belonged.74 These legal and physical debates raged through the Hunter particularly in the later 1820s and 1830s. Ideological clashes between wealthy, emigrant settlers and emancipist or native born Europeans were common. Each group felt an entitlement to the land, either as the promised estates of newly arrived emigrants, the hard-won land of emancipists who had served their time or for the native born, the land of the country of their birth. Landowners such as the outspoken James Mudie and the native born John Howe and Benjamin Singleton were prominent in long running disputes over property. 75

This thesis will draw together for the first time a wealth of primary source material available concerning the Hunter Valley. These sources include letters and diaries of the large landowners, memoirs and public statements of the smaller farmers and emancipists, as well as extensive collections of official correspondence, maps and reports. Although the colonial elite are often seen as being the most articulate, demanding and enduring, the voice of the smaller settler can be heard in such collections as the Colonial Secretary

Correspondence, particularly letters concerning land issues, commissions into police, bushranging or floods, and notably in colonial newspapers, such as the Sydney Gazette and

73 G. Karskens, ‘The settler evolution: space, place and memory in early colonial Australia’, Journal of the Association of the Study of Australian Literature , Vol. 13, No.2, 2013, 7-9, 14. 74 Molony, The Native Born, p. 3. 75 Blair, ‘The revolt at Castle Forbes’, 97.

36 New South Wales Advertiser , the Monitor and the Australian where they had an opportunity to speak of their experience and express their opinions. The Aboriginal voice is more muffled but can be heard in the writings and collection of such people as the missionary, the Reverend Lancelot Threlkeld and through the observations of the settlers and visitors as shown in Brayshaw’s work. Archaeological studies also provide information about Aboriginal life, occupation patterns and movement in the pre and post contact

Hunter Valley. Much of this information, while having been used for specific study, has not been looked at as a collection concerning the valley’s development as a whole.

This thesis employs a thematic approach within a chronological narrative to examine the environmental and cultural history of the Hunter Valley, the conflicts and contests in the colonial landscape. This will allow for detailed, fine-grained analysis of the relationships between the various groups, their reactions and experiences, which in turn will feed into the broader chronological narrative of the settlement and development of the Hunter

Valley.

To begin, Chapter 1 looks back into deep time to explore the formation of the Hunter

Valley. It examines the geological and hydrological forces that shaped the physical valley over millions of years and laid the foundations for the natural environment about which so much of the later human history revolved. It places the Valley in its environmental context and introduces the ancient occupation of the Hunter by the first Aboriginal groups at least

20,000 years before Europeans arrived.

Although the focus of this thesis is primarily the Hunter Valley in the years between 1820 and 1840, this history cannot be fully understood without some discussion of the penal settlement at Newcastle in the two decades preceding. The development of Newcastle as a place of secondary punishment established a permanent European presence in the

37 Hunter Valley, and it was from here that the first significant incursions into the valley took place. Chapter 2 therefore addresses the period between 1796 and 1822, when Europeans began to explore and exploit the natural resources of the Hunter, felling the cedar, mining the coal and building the embryonic settlements. However, the penal settlement was never just about punishment. The exploitation of natural resources for the economic benefits of the growing settlement in Sydney and the wider colony was at the core of

Newcastle’s raison d’être , so this chapter explores the beginnings of the tensions over the

Hunter’s natural resources and who had control over them. These early years saw the first confrontations and accommodations made between the British and the Aboriginal people too; these contacts, and the impacts they had on later cross-cultural relations, are also examined in Chapter 2.

Chapter 3 focuses on Aboriginal guides and their vital roles in the success of John Howe’s overland expeditions into the Hunter in 1819 and 1820. While stories of explorers are told often enough, the roles of their Aboriginal guides are usually overlooked. This chapter thus presents and analyses’ the expeditions with a focus on Howe’s Aboriginal guide Myles, and interrogates his likely motives, as well as those of other Aboriginal intermediaries who assisted the Europeans.

Howe’s expedition and the marking of an overland trail precipitated a land rush into the

Hunter by free settlers. Chapter 4 tracks this rush and explores the consequences. The

‘opening up’ of the valley to white settlement also coincided with the publication of a report into the colony by Commissioner John Thomas Bigge. In terms of land policy, Bigge recommended that preference be given to wealthy, free emigrants, and conversely that land granted to former convicts and small-scale settlers be restricted. The adoption of this recommendation as policy underpinned the tensions over access to land and resources that would play out amongst the European settlers in the Hunter over the following decades. A

38 high proportion of free emigrants did indeed occupy the largest estates by 1828.

Nevertheless, convicts, former convicts and emancipists made up over 72% of the population in that year. This chapter explores the lives of some of the latter group, who remained in the Hunter and formed the base populations of the emerging urban centres.

As was the case with most colonial frontiers, or contact zones, the Hunter Valley was beset by violence between Aboriginal people and the Europeans who had invaded their country.

From 1825 to 1827, attacks, reprisals and raids were reported across the central and upper valley in particular, with skirmishes and clashes around the settlements at Newcastle and the lower valley as well. Chapter 5 takes a detailed look at the reports of violence and explores the claim that these constituted a war. By looking at each report individually and tracking the movement of the violence across the region, this chapter reveals the recurring involvements of particular settlers and attacks on specific targets. While the reasons for the violence were manifold, its escalation led to a growing unease across the Hunter, which culminated in at least one horrific massacre and one of the most sensational trials in colonial history.

Yet violence was not the only result of Aboriginal and European contact; it does not tell the full story. Employing the concept of the ‘Contact Zone’ developed by U.S. cultural theorist

Mary Louise Pratt, Chapter 6 demonstrates the co-presence, interaction and interlocking relationships that existed across the Valley between Aboriginal people and setters, often in parallel to the violence and trauma. This chapter thus addresses major omissions in the historiography of the Hunter.

The final chapter uses the uprising on the Castle Forbes estate of James Mudie in 1833 to explore the relationships, conflicts and tensions between the different classes of European settlers in the Hunter. Mudie had a reputation as a tyrant and the revolt on his estate

39 appeared to confirm this. An inquiry into the outbreak revealed some disturbing details concerning the ongoing management of the Castle Forbes estate and the convict workforce. Mudie’s reputation as a gentleman was tested, yet he was not alone in his attitudes towards his convict workers, and his emancipist and ex-convict neighbours. Thus, class and reputation were significant factors in the settler experience in the Hunter Valley, something that has hitherto been largely overlooked in historiography of the region. This chapter seeks to explore the dynamics of these relationships, and the ways they played out in tensions over land and its rightful ownership – at least as far as the Europeans were concerned

This thesis sets out to redress the balance in the historiography of the colonial Hunter

Valley and repopulate the story with all the players who were involved, from the emancipists and convicts, to Aboriginal and emigrants as well as the river and the environment more generally. It employs a cross-disciplinary approach using traditional documentary sources, as well as drawing on environmental history, archaeology and cultural landscape studies. It builds on the sources mentioned above to reveal the complex history of the first thirty years of free, white settlement in the Hunter.

40

Chapter 1

A Valley within a Valley – The Hunter Valley and its Aboriginal owners

In the early years of the nineteenth century, Europeans moved out of the Cumberland

Plain, north to the newly discovered lands around the mouth of Hunter’s River. The discovery of coal lying on the shoreline of the river and nearby beaches in September 1797 encouraged early mining activities and led to the establishment of a secondary punishment station by Governor King in 1801. 1 The coal also hinted at the great geological age of the valley and the forces that had created an environment that would prove so attractive to human settlement and exploitation. The success of the Hunter Valley as an agricultural and farming centre in colonial New South Wales was as much a product of the land, the soil and the river as it was the hard work, forced or otherwise, of the European farmers and their convict labourers. The fertile valley, which sustained thriving Aboriginal communities for tens of thousands of years, had been shaped over millions of years by a series of dynamic and at times cataclysmic geological events.

European occupation in the Hunter Valley started in 1801, when a party of convicts was sent from Sydney to work the coal seams exposed in the cliffs around the mouth of the

Hunter River. 2 The coal there was so close to the surface that it tumbled out of the rock

1 D. F. Branagan, 1972, Geology and Coal Mining in the Hunter Valley 1791-1861 , Newcastle History Monographs No.6, Council of the City of Newcastle, pp. 14-19. 2 Governor King Letters, Re: Newcastle 1801-1805, ML, MSS 582.

41 faces onto the beaches and sand dunes along the coast and the river banks. But the land immediately behind this was less productive, dominated by sand and shallow podzolic soils.3 Tracts of fertile ground were further inland on the alluvial plains of the rivers that formed the valley.

The Valley’s Formation Rivers are one of the major erosional forces acting on the Earth’s surface. They are active across all regions and act on all surface types and landforms, excavating valleys and canyons, creating great plains and alluvial flats through the transportation and depositing of soil and rocks along their course. The shape of the Hunter Valley, like most valleys, is in a large part determined by the river, while the flowing river is in turn shaped by the geological features of the valley itself. All the major rivers in the valley flow down out of the ranges that enclose it. In the high mountains of the Barrington and Mount Royal

Ranges, the hard Devonian and Carboniferous rocks resist the eroding forces of the water, forcing the Hunter River to flow in a south-westerly direction. It follows the course of the ancient Gondwanian river systems, skirting around the hard ancient mountains until it flows into softer, Permian layers and the sandstone of the ranges in the south, where it turns east towards the sea. 4

The headwaters of the Hunter are in the Mount Royal Range in the high country of the northwest. From there it flows south until it meets the Goulburn River, where it turns east and meanders across the broad plains towards Newcastle. Lower down its course the

Hunter is joined by the Paterson and the Williams Rivers, as well as innumerable smaller creeks and streams that drop down out of the in the south and west

3 Podzolic soil types dominate the lower Hunter Valley. It is formed from weathered shale and is characterised by a fine, sandy loam structure. However heavy clay levels reduce its capacity for crops and cause’s waterlogging. See M. Daly and J. Brown, The Hunter Valley Region NSW , Hunter Valley Research Foundation, Newcastle, 1966, pp. 27-30; L. E. Matthei, Soil Landscapes of the Newcastle 1:100 000 Sheet , Department of Land and Water Conservation, Sydney, 1995. 4 Browne, ‘Physiography and Geology of the Upper Hunter River’, 139.

42 and the Mount Royal Ranges in the north, which enclose the valley. As the river approaches the coast, it fans out through its estuary, sliding between islands, mangroves, swamplands and lagoons. The river and its tributaries carved the valley over millennia, eroding the layers of rock and laying down the fertile alluvial base that was so sought after by Aboriginal people and Europeans alike.

As these rivers flow through the valley, they pass through a series of contrasting landscapes and environments. In the high mountains that flank the valley, the terrain is steep and rugged. Where the rivers rise in the north around and the Mount Royal

Range, pockets of ancient rainforest cling to the steep ridges and in the ravines and gullies.

The rainforests are the last vestiges of the Gondwanan continent; the great ancient landmass of which Australia was once part. The land here, like the forest, is some of the oldest in the valley, with folded Devonian and Carboniferous rocks laid down between 410 and 275 million years ago. The Carboniferous period was characterised by both volcanic and glacial forces, with vast strata of volcanic lava and ash dispersed through the region by the glacial streams. Fossils from this period, in the middle valley around Stanhope, hint at the massive upheavals of this time, with alternate marine, freshwater and volcanic depositions indicating fluctuating sea levels and changing conditions across the area. 5

These deposits themselves were overlaid with basalt blasted out of a later series of volcanic cones between 12 and 70 million years ago. 6 The volcanic flows are thought to have once covered most of the northern Hunter as far south as Muswellbrook, some estimated at over 600 metres thick. 7 But most of the flow was subsequently eroded, leaving caps and outcrops of basalt in the north and eastern rims of the Upper Hunter basin, while rich, dark brown basalt-based soils spread across the alluvial plains. The hard Devonian crust, made

5 B. Nashar, The Geology of the Hunter Valley , The Jacaranda Press, Sydney, 1964, p. 44. 6 M. Kovac and J.W. Lawrie, Soil Landscapes of Singleton 1:250 000 Sheet , Soil Conservation Service of NSW, Sydney 1991, p. 7. 7 Browne, ‘Physiography and Geology’,142.

43 up of ancient marine sediment and glacial tillite deposits sealed beneath the remaining basalt, has resisted erosion, giving rise to the rugged mountains in this area.

The mountains in this part of the valley, north and west of Mount Royal, were created in large part by uplifting and folding along a series of fault lines that run through the area.

Known as the Hunter Thrust, it represents a zone of thrust faults which occurred over a fifty million year timespan between the Permian and Triassic period, pushing up the mountains northwest across the Valley extending from Port Stephens to Scone, and onwards to

Murrurundi, forming the northern boundary of the valley.8 These massive Gondwanian geological events, occurring between 180 and 275 million years ago, juxtaposed the older

Devonian and Carboniferious layers with the younger Permian levels, and delineate the border between these two geological zones. 9 The Permian rocks laid down between 275 and 220 million years ago consist of shales, tuffs, sandstone and conglomerates, and they form most of the undulating and rolling countryside of the lowland areas, including the coal deposits that underlie much of the valley. 10 This folding also brought the coal seams near to the surface, triggering the original settlement of the valley by Europeans. 11

The series of faults and tectonic uplifts created a geological valley-in-valley formation. An ancient valley, created during the late Tertiary era, some 12 million years ago, was carved through the soft rocks and marine sediments of the Permo-Carbinferous era, laid down up to 355 million years before. This Tertiary valley was itself pushed up along the fault lines and Hunter thrust, which in turn rejuvenated streams and the rivers that eroded back

8 Nashar, The Geology of the Hunter Valley , p. 39. The Permian period is considered to be 220-275 million years ago, with the Triassic period being from 180-220 million years ago. 9 M. Daly and J. Brown, The Hunter Valley Region, NSW , p. 11. 10 Tuffs are composed of fine material and ash expelled during volcanic eruptions. The ash consolidates into a hard rock after settling on land or water surfaces. Shales, conglomerates and sandstones are sedimentary rocks, laid down over millennia. The presence of the different formational processes illustrates the different geological processes in play in the formation of the Hunter Valley. 11 R. A. Glen and J. Beckett, ‘Thin-skinned tectonics in the Hunter Coalfield of New South Wales’, Australian Journal of Earth Sciences , (1989), Vol.36, 589.

44 through the ancient valley, creating the Hunter Valley as it is today. The evidence of this is most obvious in the upper Hunter, in the country between Muswellbrook and Wingen, where the Wingen Fault crosses the valley. Above the Kingdon Ponds Creek, one of the many small creeks that come down into the valley from the Liverpool Plains and Mount

Royal Ranges near Wingen, the land is gently undulating to the west up to the base of the sandstone cliffs that border the plain. This country represents the older, wide valley which the ancestor of the Kingdon Ponds once flowed through. The new rivers, including the

Hunter inland of present day Singleton, eroded through the soft upper layers, producing a new valley inside the old valley. The present channels of the streams are cut close to 60 metres below the ancient valley floor. 12

To the south, a second line of mountains, geologically younger than the Barrington and

Mount Royal ranges, forms the southern and western boundary of the valley. These

Triassic sediments extend along the entire southern side of the valley catchment, part of the marine and terrestrial deposits of the . 13 The dominant, hard, yellow

Triassic sandstone resulted in the erosion of near vertical, rampart like cliff faces and gorge- like valleys with narrow valley floors, except where the vertical erosion has cut through to the softer Permian rocks below allowing valleys such as that at to develop. The hard sandstone and steep slopes create rapid rises and falls in river heights in this area after rain, which contributes significantly to the flooding of the Hunter Valley generally as well as the movement of vast quantities of sand and debris in the waters. 14 The sandstone cliffs are also prone to undercutting, with caves and rock overhangs scattered along their edges. The Goulburn River cuts a tortuous path through these mountains, carrying with it a variety of eroded material including cherts and quartzites which were deposited along its

12 Browne, ‘Physiography and Geology’, 131. 13 Daly et al, The Hunter Valley Region , p. 7. 14 W. E. James, ‘Landforms of the Hunter River Valley’, Hunter Natural History , Vol. 1 No.2, May 1969, 16.

45 lower course. A number of Aboriginal occupation sites surveyed in the late 1960s along the

Goulburn and Hunter Rivers included tool deposits and workshop sites with flaked river cobbles, quartz blades and points, with the raw material all brought down by the

Goulburn. 15

All of these layers, lying oldest in the north to youngest in the south, were laid down while the Australian continent was still part of the larger supercontinent Gondwana, attached to what became New Zealand, Antarctica, India, South America, New Guinea and Africa.

Gondwana began to break up into these components around 180 million years ago, with

Australia separating from New Zealand, and then Antarctica, to become an island continent between 50 and 90 million years ago. New Zealand had formed the eastern boundary of

Gondwana, with the Hunter Valley located inland and the ancient rivers running west, draining the Sydney basin.

Over millions of years, as the continents began to separate, a number of other major geological changes occurred which dramatically altered the landscape. As the New Zealand subcontinent, the larger land mass on which the islands of New Zealand themselves sit, began to rift from eastern Australia, the clashing of the continental edge caused a massive uplift along the eastern edge of the newly developed Australian continent. The result was the rise of the mountainous belt known as the Great Dividing Range and the eruption of the volcanic cones in the Barrington and Mount Royal Ranges. The formation of the Great

Dividing Range in turn split the great western flowing rivers of the Gondwanan past, forcing a change in direction for those trapped on the eastern side, including the ancestral Hunter.

The ancient river had flowed in conjunction with the rivers close to the Hawkesbury,

15 D. Moore, ‘Results of an Archaeological Survey of the Hunter River Valley, New South Wales, Australia Part 1: The Bondian Industry of the Upper Hunter and Goulburn River Valleys’, Records of the Australian Museum Vol. 28, No.2, August 1970, 59-60. Also P. Hiscock, ‘Sydney Bondaian Technology in the Hunter Valley, New South Wales’, Archaeology in Oceania , Vol. 28, No. 2 (Jul., 1993), 66

46 emptying west out of the Sydney Basin. 16 With the rivers turned back on themselves new erosion patterns began as water flowed east towards the coast. The new dividing range was eroded by the developing Goulburn River in the south and the redirected Hunter in the north as well as countless streams, creeks and rivulets rushing down from the heights. The action of the waters formed a great escarpment with wild gorges and valleys that now make up the Broken Back Range and a collection of stone ribs jutting out into the developing lowlands.

Figure 2 : Looking across the steep cliffs and outcrops of the Broken Back Range where it meets the flat lands of the Hunter Valley. (Source: Author’s collection)

Although the valley’s rivers drop rapidly out of the mountains surrounding it, with slopes nearing 3 metres per kilometre between Moonan Flats and Glenbawn, as it reaches the middle valley the fall or slope of the river lessens and the rate of flow slows considerably.

16 M.E. White, After the Greening: The Browning of Australia , Kangaroo Press, Sydney, 1994, p. 68.

47 Between Denman and Singleton the river falls just 75cm per kilometre, while between

Singleton and Maitland this is reduced further to 40cm per kilometre and down to less than

20cm per kilometre between Maitland and the coast. 17 As they flow downstream the rivers erode material and pick up loose soil, rocks and pebbles and carry this debris as they move along. Once a river leaves the highlands it begins to meander, slowing down and widening, a common characteristic inherent of all flowing rivers to some extent. The meandering river simultaneously erodes a valley and deposits what it is carrying. On the outside and downstream sides of its curves, where its velocity is greatest, the river erodes its banks, while on the inside of the curve it deposits material, creating point bars. The simultaneous processes of erosion and deposit result in rivers migrating laterally, creating a series of sweeping bends, but also widening the valley through which the river runs. The river also migrates along its valley, straightening out occasionally as necks of land between bends are cut through by floods or continual erosion. 18 Evidence of this migration of the Hunter can be seen in the country north of Singleton where river gravels deposited above the current river show its previous course. 19

The migratory habit of rivers results in the creation of depositional plains. As the river migrates sideways, the point bars laid down on its inside curves are left behind as wedges of sediment, slowly building up as the river keeps moving. When rivers overflow their banks, they deposit further across their developing flood plains, building up a vertical sequence of alluvial deposits. 20 So it was that the Hunter, Goulburn, Paterson and Williams

Rivers formed their respective valleys and floodplains, and when joined, acted to widen and form the main valley of the Hunter. The flood plain of the Hunter is first evident above

17 T. McMahon, ‘Hydrological Features of the Hunter Valley, NSW’, The Hunter Valley Research Foundation Monograph No.20, Newcastle, 1964, p. 8. 18 C.R. Twidale and E.M. Campbell, Australian Landforms: Understanding a Low, Flat, Arid and Old Landscape , Roseberg Publishing, Dural, 2005, p. 107. 19 Nashar, Geology of the Hunter Valley , p. 82. 20 Twidale, Australian Landforms , p. 93.

48 Aberdeen where it is approximately 3.2 kilometres wide. The plain narrows below

Aberdeen until close to Singleton where it widens out again to over 6.5 kilometres down to

Branxton where it again narrows before opening up above Maitland to over 13 kilometres wide and more as it approaches its estuary. 21 The meandering pattern is particularly evident downstream from Denman, after the Goulburn joins the Hunter. Here the river slows and winds its way through its wide, flat, flood plain, with slow sweeping bends and loops characteristic of an aging river. It is no coincidence that the land south of here was the most sought after in the first decade of European settlement.

The rivers were not the only water source to influence the valley. Changing sea levels over time forced the river systems to retreat inland or allowed them to push out as the sea levels rose and fell. At the end of the last great glacial age, some 15,000 years ago, the sea level was approximately 130 metres below the current level, placing the ancient river mouth and its flood plain much further east than at present. 22 What is now Newcastle and the valley were far inland, with forests and grasslands growing across the plains while the mouth of the Hunter shifted over a wide ranging area. Evidence of these ancient forests and river deltas have been discovered along the coastline with the occurrence of peat beds some 25 metres below the current ground level at Port Stephens, while coarse gravel and wood 55 metres below the surface at Stockton hint at the drowned forests and buried river of the earlier valley. 23 Around 11,500 years ago the sea levels had risen enough to reach the line of the current coast, flooding into the river valley that is now Port Stephens to the north and creating Lake Macquarie in the south. The sea levels oscillated between 7000 years and 1400 years ago, rising and falling between one and two metres compared to

21 Hunter Valley Research Foundation, Flood Plain Information for the Hunter Valley, NSW , Hunter Valley Research Foundation, Newcastle, 1963, p. 5. 22 White, After the Greening , p. 174. 23 T. W. Edgeworth David, and F. B. Guthrie, ‘The Flood Silt of the Hunter and Hawkesbury Rivers’, Journal and Proceedings of the Royal Society of NSW, Vol. 38, 1904, 195.

49 current levels. 24 At times, ocean waves lapped at a shore line close to what is now West

Maitland, 40 kilometres inland from the current coast line. During this period the Williams and Paterson Rivers were not tributaries of the Hunter, but rather entered as independent rivers into this great bay. The heights of Newcastle and stood as isolated islands far from the coast. 25 Subsequent silting by the river slowly pushed the delta back towards its current position while leaving behind a series of swamps and marshes between

Hexham, Seaham and north to Port Stephens.

Once the geological processes had settled and the sea levels stabilised to current levels, the

Hunter River extended back some 467 kilometres from the coast, with a tidal zone 45 kilometres upriver from the sea. The valley extends inland further than any other coastal catchment in New South Wales. With its sister rivers and tributaries the Hunter catchment covers an area of approximately 22,000 kilometres square, making it one of the largest catchments in New South Wales.26

Floods are a common occurrence in the Hunter Valley, with large inundations recorded every ten years or so since European settlement until major mitigation works that followed the devastating 1955 floods. Flooding was regular because of a combination of physical features in the valley. The numerous streams and tributaries that flow in the Hunter along its length focus the runoff after rain into a comparatively narrow area. As the river drops out of the highlands onto the flatter plains above Singleton, its winding and meandering loops slow the water, retarding its flow and causing it to back up; deep pools, shallows, bends, contractions and widening of its banks affect its velocity. As the channel depth lessens between Singleton and Maitland, the river cannot carry off the vast amounts of

24 V. Attenbrow, Sydney’s Aboriginal Past: Investigating the archaeological and historical records , UNSW Press, Sydney, 2010 (2 nd ed), p. 38 25 Nashar, Geology of the Hunter Valley , p. 57. 26 Hunter, Karuah, Manning Catchments: State of the Rivers and Estuaries Report, 2000, Dept. of Land and Water Conservation, Sydney, p. 14.

50 water as quickly as they come into it from upstream, resulting in it breaking over its banks and spreading across its floodplain. 27

Estimates made from the collection of flood debris and deposits made in the early years of the twentieth century suggest that the river delta was laid down over a period of approximately 12,000 years, as regular floods deposited the eroded soil, minerals and nutrients from the upper valley across the floodplains. 28 This date range corresponds roughly to the end of the last great glacial age which had had such a tremendous impact on sea levels across the Australian continent. Measurements of a flood in 1904 found that an average of five centimetres of silt had been left behind after the river had subsided which amounted to approximately 104 tonnes per hectare, or enough nutrients to support the valley crops at the time for ten years. 29 The volume of water in large flood events can be gauged further by early settler reports of seeing flood debris. A flood in 1820 was reported as being over eleven metres above high water mark at Maitland, the furthest extent of the tidal system. 30 Although regarded by some Europeans as a destructive natural disaster, floods were recognised by others as the major supplier of the valleys fertility. 31 As a result of this long process of flood action, the Hunter was recognised as one of the most fertile districts in New South Wales from the start of European occupation. However the gullies and mountains that dominate the landform of the central and upper valley meant the rich alluvial soils which made the land so attractive to farmers was restricted to a relatively narrow band of ground, hugging the flat lands along the rivers’ course.

27 ‘Report on the Prevention of Floods in the Hunter by the Engineer-in-Chief for Harbours and Rivers’, ordered by the Legislative Assembly New South Wales, 12 January 1869, p. 4. 28 Edgeworth David, ‘Flood silt’, 201. 29 Edgeworth David, ‘Flood silt’, 199. 30 ‘Floods in the Hunter: Report of Commission Appointed to Enquire into and report respecting floods in the district of the Hunter River’, 1870, NSWLA, p. 96. 31 In 1869, EO Moriarty, the Engineer-in-Chief for Harbours and Rivers for the NSW Department of Public Works in a report on the Hunter wrote ‘without these inundation, the rich alluvial lands of the Hunter had not existed; and without their occasional recurrence the wonderful richness of the soil could not be preserved”, NSWLA, Report on the Prevention of Floods , p. 26. See Chapter 6 for more discussion on floods and European reactions to them.

51 Across the Hunter Valley, with its variety of landforms, elevations and climate zones, a range of vegetation was supported. As elsewhere along the eastern coast, Eucalypts adapted to the Hunter environment and a range of different species and sub-species appeared, growing in tall, dense woodlands on the fringe of the remnant rainforest, as savannah woodlands in the drier, more exposed parts of the valley and dwarfed scrub in cooler swamp areas. 32 Tallowwoods ( Eucalyptus microcorys ), snow ( E. pauciflora ) and mountain gums ( E. dalrympleana ) soared up to 60 metres high in the wet forests around

Barrington; Sydney blue gum ( E. saligna ) with its smooth blue-grey trunk grew through the

Watagan mountains that fringe Newcastle; while stringybarks ( E. sparsifolia ), Broad-leaved ironbarks ( E. fibrosa ), grey box ( E.moluccana ), yellow box ( E. melliodora ), forest red ( E. tereticornis )and Spotted gums ( Corymbia maculata )intermingled through the lower slopes, the dry-sclerophyll forests, savannah, open woodland and river flat forest that made up much of the rest of the valley. Close to the coast swamp mahogany ( Eucalyptus robusta ) and stands of flooded gum grew in forests near to water. Smooth and rough barked apple, kurrajongs, paperbarks and swamp oaks also all grow from the mountains to the sea in the

Hunter. 33

Forest trees, like coal, were quickly exploited by Europeans when the convict settlement was opened. In 1804 however it was not the eucalypts that were prized but the red cedar trees ( Toona ciliate ) that grew along the river edges around what would become Maitland and beyond. The red cedar is a rainforest tree, a member of the mahogany family

Meliaceae. It is a survivor from the greater Gondwanan continent, with relatives stretching from Pakistan, throughout India and Southeast Asia, across Indonesia and down the east

32 J. Wrigley and M. Fagg, 2010, Eucalypts: A Celebration , Allen & Unwin, Sydney, pp. 10-13. 33 Kovac, Soil Landscapes of Singleton , pp. 23-24; S.K. McInnes-Clark, Soil Landscapes of the 1:100 000 Sheet, Department of Land and Water Conservation, , 2002, p. 10.

52 coast of Australia. 34 The trees can grow from the coast to the rainforests on mountain slopes, thriving on alluvial soils and the rich basalts left over from prehistoric volcanic outflows. In the Hunter, where both these soil types were found, the red cedar trees grew to upwards of 60 metres tall, with wide buttressed roots providing a solid base for their large, spreading crown. Once identified by Europeans, the Hunter cedar was felled in vast quantities as convict timber gangs moved out of Newcastle into the surrounding hinterland, establishing camps as they went. Within twenty years of settlement the gangs were working over 70 miles (112 Km) up river from the Newcastle settlement. 35 Many of these camps were to become the basis for the towns that remain in the lower Hunter to this day, including Maitland and Morpeth.

The Hunter’s First Peoples At some point between 35,000 and 50,000 years ago humans began to infiltrate this ancient geological space, with its sharp mountains, plunging gorges, wide alluvial plains, abundant rivers and dense forests. In the Hunter Valley the direct archaeological evidence for the earliest presence of Aboriginal people is limited. The vast majority of pre-contact

(Aboriginal) sites excavated have been open sites, with surface scatters of artefacts that are often difficult to accurately date. 36 While a general consensus has been reached in archaeological research of an occupation date for the Hunter of around 20,000+ years before present, this assertion is based on evidence from a few sites in the central Hunter around Singleton, Glennies Creek and and in areas on the fringes of the

34 Historic Houses Trust of New South Wales, Red Cedar in Australia , Historic Houses Trust, Sydney, 2004, p. 26.

35 Turner, Newcastle as a convict settlement, p. 75.

36 Upper Hunter Aboriginal Heritage Baseline Study prepared for Upper Hunter Aboriginal Heritage Trust prepared by Environmental Resources Management (ERM) Australia, October 2004, p. 53.

53 Hunter Valley and the landscape history, rather than excavated sites. 37 Archaeological excavations undertaken in the 1960s around Milbrodale near Broke and Sandy Hollow adjacent to the Goulburn River have revealed occupation dates of 3000 years before present (bp), with other sites just outside the valley at the headwaters of the Goulburn dated to 6000bp and at least one at Swansea Heads on Lake Macquarie being dated to

7500bp.38 An excavation at Fal Brook in the central Hunter has suggested a date of at least

20,000bp with some suggestion of it being closer to 35,000bp, although this result has been questioned by some later studies. 39 Further sites at Moffats Swamp in the lower Hunter,

Lime Springs in the Liverpool Plains and the Capertee Mangrove Swamp south east of the valley have been dated to the Pleistocene (at least 20,000 years). Evidence presented from these sites, coupled with Sydney having been occupied between 45 000bp and 50 000bp, suggests that people were settling in the Hunter around the same time. 40

An absence of sites does not necessarily equate to an absence of people. Along the floor of the valley a relative dearth of occupation sites and post contact sites is very likely the result of regular cycles of severe flooding in conjunction with close to two hundred years of

European farming and cultivation, which have removed surface and shallow deposits. 41

Evidence of potentially earlier sites of occupation would also have been lost as sea levels rose 7000 years ago and inundated large areas of the coastal plain.

37 ERM, Upper Hunter Aboriginal Heritage p. 68. Clive Lucas Stapleton and Partners, Hunter Estates: A Comparative Heritage Study of Pre-1850s homestead Complexes in the Hunter Valley, Volume 2, Appendix II, Aboriginal Archaeology Reports, prepared for the Heritage Council of NSW, 2013, p. 11 38 Moore, ‘Results of an archaeological survey Part I’, 58. Also DR Moore, ‘Results of an archaeological survey of the Hunter River Valley, New South Wales, Australia: Part II Problems of the lower Hunter and contacts with the Hawkesbury Valley’, Records of the Australian Museum, Vol. 33, No.6-9 February 1981, 421. 39 M. Koettig, July 1990 Volume 3 of Regional Study of Heritage Significance Central Lowlands Hunter Valley Electricity Commission Holdings: A Report to the Electricity Commission in Three Volumes: Assessment of Aboriginal Sites, p. 24. See also ERM p. 68. Dates in the range of 20,000bp to 35,000bp are within the period of the Last Glacial Maximum, the last ice age. See Attenbrow, Sydney’s Aboriginal Past , pp 152-153 for a discussion of this period and its impact on Aboriginal occupation patterns. 40 Attenbrow, Sydney’s Aboriginal Past , p. 152. 41 Moore, ‘Results of an archaeological survey Part I’, 29.

54 Nevertheless the evidence across the excavated shelters in the middle and upper Hunter

Valley consistently points to an occupation period of approximately 3000bp, which appears surprisingly recent. Anthropologist David Moore speculated that the evidence from the

Hunter strengthened the theory of “marginal settlement” put forward by Sandra Bowdler in 1977 that Australia was colonised via a coastal route by people adapted to living in tropical, coastal conditions. Bowdler argued that an economy based on the marine environment with a reliance on fish, shellfish and smaller mammals would not have required a dramatic change for people coming to Australia. Aboriginal settlers probably stuck largely to the coast, moving inland along major water courses and rivers only gradually and not going into the heart of the continent until much later, when new hunting skills capable of tackling larger fauna such as kangaroos had been mastered. 42 However

Bowdler’s theory has since been largely dismissed by archaeologists as evidence of very early occupation of inland sites, including some around Alice Springs, dated to at least 22

000bp, at Lake Mungo in NSW of up to 44,000bp and at Puritjarra in Central Australia at around 39,000bp, suggest that settlement spread in a more uniform pattern across the landscape of ancient Australia, with local variations through different landscapes and environments.43 Most landscape types on the continent were settled prior to 40,000bp, with people not tethered to the coast as Bowdler theorised, but instead settling in areas where water was available. A growing understanding of the landscape led to economic and survival strategies that facilitated adjustments to changing conditions in the local environment. 44 While Moore, using Bowdler’s theory, suggests that the absence of early middle and upper valley sites might show that Aboriginal people were able to live in the coastal and estuarine zones without moving inland in any great numbers until rising sea levels forced them back from the coast, the lack of any systematic archaeological survey

42 Flood, Archaeology of the Dreamtime , pp. 80-81. 43 P. Hiscock, Archaeology of Ancient Australia , Routledge, London, 2008, p. 47. 44 Hiscock, ‘Archaeology of Ancient Australia’, p. 62.

55 across the Valley makes it difficult to come to any firm conclusions. The main focus of archaeological excavation has been in response to the expansion of coal mining operations through the central lowlands of the valley between Singleton and Muswellbrook meaning much of the valley has not been excavated and the bulk of sites investigated have been open scatter sites rather than rock shelters, which could provide more conclusive evidence of long term occupation. 45

Moore also theorised that north-south contact rather than east-west contact may have been the norm for Hunter people, as archaeological evidence suggests that contact between the coastal people and those inland may have been limited (though not non- existent). He used the evidence of tool-making material, which differs significantly between the two regions to support his theory. Upper and middle valley sites revealed the use of local red and yellow cherts or mudstone and quartzites, whereas esturine and coastal sites are nearly all employing Mereweather white or grey chert. 46 The coastal people appear to have maintained more regular contact with groups to their immediate north and south, including the Garigal around Broken Bay to the south and the Gaddhang around Port

Stephens in the north, who in turn were in contact with the Birbai of the Manning Valley. In the middle valley, contact was more common between the Wonarua of the Hunter and the

Darkinung in the Central Coast hinterland and Hawkesbury Valley as well as the Kamilaroi whose territory began around Merriwa and extended over the mountains into the

Liverpool Plains and beyond.

45 ERM, ‘Aboriginal Baseline Study’, p. 52. 46 Moore (1981) ’Results of an archaeological survey Part II’, 422. Chert is also classified as Indurated Mudstone which occurs extensively through the Permian coal seams of the upper valley and can be obtained from river pebbles. See Philip Hughes, NSW National Parks and Wildlife Service, Hunter Valley Region Archaeology Project Stage 1 Volume 1, prepared by ANU Archaeological Consultancies, November 1984.

56 However, European accounts of coastal people trading Xanthorrhoea stems as spear shafts for possum fur belts and cloaks suggests that regular trade did occur between the coast and inland. 47 The existence of Hunter Valley materials, such as cherts and quartzites in tool assemblages in the Hawkesbury also points to inter-area trading, while the similarity of rock art sites, both painted and engraved, in the middle Hunter and the Hawkesbury suggest a commonality in belief and tradition. A number of tracks have been identified linking the two areas, including the Boree Track which leads from near Wollombi through the valleys and gorges south to St Albans on the MacDonald River, a track from Wollombi east to Kulnura and on to Ourimbah on the Central Coast, and another linking Paynes

Crossing and Putty. 48 The reason for a limited connection between coastal and upper valley people is not clear. Some have speculated that the rainforest in the Hunter, the only substantial stands of which remain in the Barrington Ranges, created a significant barrier to easy contact between both groups. 49 The thinner sclerophyll forests on the ridges to the south made for easier travelling, hence the north-south connections.

This may have been a factor, although it fails to take into consideration the use of the rivers that flowed through the forest as conduits for cultural contacts. In other areas along the eastern sea board, rivers were used extensively as transport routes between coastal areas and inland communities. Heather Goodall and Allison Cadzow show the Gweagal, Cobragal and Bediagal people living around and along the were river people, using canoes to travel from Botany Bay high up along the Georges River. The river was a swift and safe way to travel particularly through an area of swamp, gullies, marshes

47 Brayshaw, Aborigines of the Hunter Valley , p. 41. 48 W. J. Needham, Burragurra: Where Spirit Walked. The Aboriginal Relics of the Cessnock-Wollombi Region in the Hunter Valley of NSW , Bill Needham, Cessnock, NSW, 1981, p. 4. 49 Moore (1981), ‘Results of an archaeological survey Part II’, 422.

57 and cliffs, as was the case around the Georges River. 50 Goodall argues that the early

European classification of Aboriginal people around Sydney as either coastal and woods people is based on European views of land tenure rather than an accurate measure of the way Aboriginal people moved in or used the landscape. The ease by which they moved along and utilised the Georges River raises questions about whether such sharp distinctions between coastal and woods people did exist at all. 51 The Hunter was probably just as well used by those groups living along it, as evidenced by the number of archaeological sites along its banks and European accounts of canoes being used as far up as Singleton. 52

Contact and trading was more likely determined as much by kinship groups within the valley as it was by whether people lived along the coast or inland. James Miller suggests that the Wonarua of the middle valley were the largest, most influential group and the surrounding people, including the in the upper eastern valley and the Gringai around the Allyn and Paterson Rivers, were sub-groups of them. The Wonarua were themselves connected to the Kamilaroi who occupied the upper reaches of the Hunter and spread over the mountains to the Liverpool Plains and further inland. 53

Aboriginal people had come to know the valley over thousands of years and had managed the land to take advantage of the abundant resources. As discussed above, tools were made from locally available materials such as the river cobbles that lay in the shallows of the Hunter and its tributaries, the long straight shaft of the grass tree ( Xanthorrhoea australis ) was used for hunting, fighting and fishing spears while bark from Stringy bark trees ( E. sparsifolia ) was used to make canoes from Port Stephens to Newcastle and up

50 H. Goodall and A. Cadzow, Rivers and Resilience: Aboriginal People on Sydney’s Georges River , UNSW Press, Sydney, 2009, p. 32. 51 Goodall and Cadzow, Rivers and Resilience , p. 38. 52 Brayshaw, Aborigines of the Hunter Valley , p. 60. 53 J. Miller, Koori: A Will to Win , Angus & Robertson Publishers, Sydney, 1985, p. 12. Also Moore (1981) ‘Results of an archaeological survey Part II’, 422.

58 river to Maitland and Singleton. 54 The great majority of archaeological sites so far excavated or recorded in the Hunter have been concentrated along the Hunter River, its tributaries or major creek lines, many within 100 metres of the water. 55 Proximity to water was identified by early European observers as the first priority in the choice of Aboriginal camp sites. The Hunter Valley people were river people, utilising the waterways as living spaces, as food sources and as pathways through their Country. 56

A controlled burning regime in the middle and upper valley managed the land, refreshed the grass, shrubs and trees which in turn attracted game. This land management system represented a conscious and deliberate use of fire to shape the environment that the

Aboriginal people lived in and depended on. 57 Grass benefitted by this system, with

Aboriginal people burning in patches to encourage new growth and the movement of kangaroos into the fresh pastures. Other vegetation types and the animals that depended on them required different approaches, resulting in a type of mosaic burning with changing fire patterns across the country. Mallee fowl for example could only survive small, patchy fires, while possums and gliders thrived in areas with more frequent fire systems. 58 The open parklike appearance of the country, so often commented upon by the first Europeans, was a direct result of this practice. 59 But not everywhere was burnt. The thick, jungle-like brush forest fronting the rivers, which often included food resources such as yams or medicine plants and areas around sacred sites were left, with fires around them closely managed to avoid these spaces. The burning regimes were evidence of a long occupation

54 Brayshaw, Aborigines of the Hunter Valley , p. 60. Also Wood, Dawn in the Valley , p. 153. 55 ERM, ‘Aboriginal Baseline Study’, p. 52. 56 J. W. Fawcett, ‘Notes on the customs and dialect of the Wonnah-Ruah Tribe’, Science of Man and Australian Anthropological Journal , No.7, Vol. 1, August 1898, 152. 57 D. B. Rose, Nourishing Terrains: Australian Aboriginal Views of Landscape and Wilderness , Australian Heritage Commission, Canberra, 1996, p. 63. 58 B. Gammage, The Biggest Estate on Earth: How Aborigines made Australia , Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 2011, p. 169. 59 Brayshaw, ’ Aborigines of the Hunter Valley ’, p. 22.

59 of the land, they gave the land a distinctive appearance and they created environments that were bountiful, nourishing and comfortable to live in. 60

As well as a physical knowledge of country, the Aboriginal people of the Hunter developed a deep spiritual knowledge and belief system that revolved around the valley. Much of this knowledge has been lost, with the stories and complex relationships to the land dislocated as much as the people were during years of violence and disruption after Europeans arrived. However some survived through Aboriginal custodianship and others were recorded by curious Europeans. The Wonaruah believe that sky spirits interacted with each other to create the valley, and, when they had finished, the valley floor opened and allowed the river to flow over the land, thus bringing it to life. The river plays the central role in the story, reflecting its essential role in the lives of the people living along its course. 61 The river brings life when flowing, but in times of drought, which are as common in the Hunter as in other parts of Australia, water is a scarce and precious resource.

Significantly a number of stories and sacred sites also relate to the geology and geography of the valley itself, suggesting a deep connection to the place and to the very forces that created it. At the entrance to Newcastle Harbour, Nobby’s Island, which once stood separate from the shore, was reputedly the resting place of a giant kangaroo that was driven into the island by the clan whose laws he had transgressed. The trapped kangaroo occasionally shakes himself, either through fear of being caught or frustration at his situation, causing the ground around to shake and tremble. 62 The valley itself was formed at least in part through the actions of earthquakes and Newcastle is still a site of earthquake activity. Another story relates a giant lizard which was said to have wandered across the land, carving out the valley as he moved along. The lizard remains in the

60 Gammage, ‘ The Biggest Estate ’, p. 184. 61 Miller, Koori: A Will to Win , p. 1. 62 Gunson, Australian Reminiscences , p. 65.

60 mountains, his head making up Yellow Rock, a prominent formation above the valley floor near Broke, his body being the ridge behind. 63

The missionary, the Reverend Lancelot Threlkeld, who ran a mission, first in Newcastle and then at Lake Macquarie between 1825 and 1841 recorded a number of stories of the local

Aboriginal people he knew, including the kangaroo of Nobby’s Island. Threlkeld noted that the Aboriginal people around Lake Macquarie believed that all the mountains in the area had once been covered by a big flood and that one family had escaped in a canoe. Proof of this, as told to Threlkeld, was the fact that cockle and other shells could be found on the mountain and higher ground. Threlkeld was sceptical of this particular account, believing instead that shells had merely been taken there in recent times, and while there has been no detailed investigation of the oral tradition of Newcastle and Hunter peoples by archaeologists and scientists, current understanding of sea level fluctuations and the levels of ancient sea within the Hunter that existed during the years of human occupation (as discussed earlier in this chapter) offer a tantalising suggestion at this story being based on a long held story of some past environmental memory, reflecting the changing coastal landscape and an experience of place by Aboriginal people over thousands of years.64

Other features Threlkeld identified as small volcanoes were in fact burning coal seams, one near Red Head on the coast between Lake Macquarie and Newcastle called Kin-ti-ir-ra-bin and the other further up the Hunter River called Kop-ur-raba, possibly the Burning

Mountain near Wingen in the upper Hunter. At Ko-pur-ra-ba, a red clay was obtained known as Ko-pur-ra, which when wet and then heated in the fire became like ochre to be used as a body paint for ceremonies or war. 65 The use of Ko-pur-ra around Lake Macquarie

63 Cultural Resource Association Inc http://www.acra.org.au/

64 Gunson, Australian Reminiscences , p. 64. 65 Gunson, Australian Reminiscences , p. 63.

61 and Newcastle which was first gathered from the upper reaches of the valley is further evidence of trade routes and connections across the region.

Overseeing all of this was Baiami. Represented in at least one art site at Milbrodale on the edge of the Broken Back Range, his giant arms are outstretched as if lying on the ground, as he was often represented in ceremonies and initiations. The site at Milbrodale was recorded in detail by anthropologist R. H. Mathews in the 1890s who concluded it represented Baiami, a spirit figure that was central to male initiation ceremonies and was prominent right through south-east Australia from southern Queensland and North-west

New South Wales to southern New South Wales. 66 Recent scholars, such as Tony Swain, have refuted this idea and instead see Baiami as a post-contact, spiritual innovation by

Aboriginal people. Swain argues that as Aboriginal communities were devastated by

European invasions, their spiritual rituals and beliefs adapted to counter the dislocation from their traditional beliefs. Baiami may have been one such example, incorporating traditional deities with the European idea of a one-God belief being spread by missionaries and settlers. 67 Swain and others associate Baiami with a sky-spirit which can be easily equated with a Christian view of God. Mathews however described Baiami as a ground spirit , with the idea of it being a sky-God being put forward by other anthropologists and rivals of Mathews’ such as Alfred Howitt and Andrew Lang. 68 Whatever may be the case, the site at Milbrodale is one of the most southerly depictions of Baiami and one of the most dramatic. Baiami’s story and influence spread across the boundaries of the different

Aboriginal groups and clans forming a common cultural reference.

66 M. Thomas, The Many Worlds of R.H. Mathews: In search of an Australian anthropologist , Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 2011, p. 237. 67 T. Swain, ‘A New Sky Hero from a Conquered Land’, History of Religions , Vol. 29, No.3, 1990, pp. 210-212. See also R. Bellah, Religion in Human Evolution: From Paleolithic to the Axial Age , Harvard University Press, Cambridge USA, 2011, p. 154. 68 Thomas, The Many Worlds of R.H. Mathews , pp. 280-285.

62

Figure 3 : Baiami Cave, Milbrodale showing the human li ke figure with outstretched arms, surrounded by stencilled hands, boomerangs and axes. (Source: Author’s collection)

A number of Aboriginal stories from around Australia have been identified as potentially having a basis in fact, acting as elaborate oral histories of events long passed and used to illustrate the law of the Country. Each Country has its own set of stories associated to it and each has its own laws, told and taught through the stories. They serve to relate the past as well as impart a message about country. Stories relating to the separation of

Kangaroo Island from the mainland by rising sea levels in South Australia, of the volcanic eruption of Mount Wilson in the Blue Mountains west of Sydney and other eruptions in the

Atherton Tablelands in Queensland can all be traced to events that happened in those areas during occupation periods up to 10,000 years ago. 69 Stories of rising sea levels are also told in the Sydney region. 70 Flood argues that if memory of volcanoes and rising sea

69 Flood, ’ Archaeology of the Dreamtime ’, p. 141. 70 Karskens, The Colony , p. 30.

63 levels can persist after such a period, there is no reason for similar geological processes and events to be recalled in other parts of the country. Stories such as the Kangaroo spirit and the canoe saving the family in Lake Macquarie speak of a long connection to the land and to the natural cycles of the place. They speak of deeper history but also possibly of the memory of the earthquakes that occasionally rocked the region and of the encroaching sea on what had been the living space of the coastal and estuarine Aboriginal people.

Europeans began to arrive into this ancient landscape with its complex spiritual and ritualised society in the late 1790s. With close contact between the Darkinung, Garigal and the people of the Hunter, word of these strangers had probably reached them well before

Europeans arrived in the area. Some Aboriginal people had likely travelled to the settlement around Port Jackson to see these new arrivals for themselves. There is evidence that men like Bungaree, for example, well known amongst the Europeans in Sydney, was also a familiar figure in the . Although the European occupation of the

Hunter region was at first on a relatively small scale, within twenty years it would transform Aboriginal society and culture developed over hundreds of generations.

64

65 Chapter 2

Entering an occupied Valley – The Newcastle Convict Station,

1796-1822

First Contacts 1796-1801 The colonists first learned of a sheltered harbour at the mouth of a fresh river in July 1796, when the crew of a wrecked fishing boat, who had come ashore close to Port Stephens, walked into Sydney. At Port Stephens the fishermen had met some local Aboriginal people who guided them south along a track back towards Broken Bay and the Sydney settlement. 1 This path through the bush was likely well used by Aboriginal people travelling back and forth along the coast, and probably linked up with a similar coastal route that continued on to the of Sydney Harbour. The Sydney end of this track was also well known to Europeans. Captain John Hunter of the and later

Governor of the Colony and namesake of the Hunter River, included the southern portion of the track along Sydney’s in his ‘Sketch of the Settlements’, completed in August 1796, just as the fishermen were returning. What the fishermen reported on their return to Sydney is unknown, but the long walk along a rugged coast may have dampened any positive impressions of their landfall, as no official exploratory party was sent out to investigate the new harbour just yet.

The people who helped the castaways were most likely members of the Worimi or the

Awabakal, the names now most commonly attributed to the coastal people who lived around the mouth of the Hunter River. The Worimi lived north of the river towards Port

Stephens while the Awabakal lived south along the coast towards Lake Macquarie and

1 Wood, Dawn in the Valley , p. 7.

66 inland to its mountainous hinterland. The Worimi and Awabakal are two of seven main groups of Aboriginal people who occupied the Hunter when Europeans first ventured into their country. These two groups were the first to witness the European incursions into their land and they bore the brunt of the European invasion.

Inland from the coast is the traditional country of what Europeans initially referred to generically as ‘bush natives’, although the term river people might have served just as well. 2 These people comprised four different groups: the Gringai who lived along the

Paterson, Williams and Allyn Rivers between the future site of the colonial river trading port of Morpeth and up into the foothills of the Barrington Range; the Wonaruah who occupied the fertile alluvial plains further along the Hunter west of its junction with the

Wollombi River to around Merriwa; the Geawegal north of the Wonaruah occupying the valley from Ravensworth to the escarpment around Murrurundi and into the Mount Royal

Range where the Hunter River itself begins; and the Kamilaroi whose territory extended west from around Jerrys Plains, out through the Cassilis Gap and over the mountains into the Liverpool Plains and beyond. The Wonaruah and Geawegal were closely affiliated with the Kamilaroi, although clashes between these groups were not uncommon, and were eagerly reported by later European settlers. Indeed the Kamilaroi had links well beyond the Hunter, with attendance at initiation ceremonies at Port Macquarie noted by colonists, and intermarriage with groups at Port Stephens and Port Macquarie also recorded. Their traditional lands extended far to the northwest across the Queensland border to the districts around present day St George. 3

2 Brayshaw, Aborigines of the Hunter Valley , p. 41. 3 Thomas, The Many Worlds of R.H. Mathews, Colour Plate 3.

67

Figure 4 : A map of the Hunter Valley showing the approximate areas occupied by the identified Aboriginal people of the area. All the groups were reliant on the river systems and their territories were focused around them. (Source: Brayshaw, Aborigines of the Hunter Valley )

The number of Aboriginal people in the Hunter at the establishment of the permanent penal station in 1804 is unknown. Some have argued that the outbreak of small pox around in 1789 spread rapidly to the Hunter in the following years and killed many Aboriginal people before Europeans arrived, altering the fabric of their society to such a point that no Europeans ever witnessed a fully ’traditional’ society. 4 In 1827 an estimated 1700 individuals were known to live in the region, as recorded during blanket distributions. However this number only comprised those who came into the settlements or estates, and it was acknowledged that many others lived in the surrounding districts who were not known to the Europeans. 5 Between 3000 and 5000 people have been

4 Brayshaw, Aborigines of the Hunter Valley , pp. 46-47. 5 Letters from local magistrates and settlers in response to a directive from the Governor to take a count of Aborigines in their districts, name the tribes and the chiefs if possible, CSC, SRNSW, 4/2045– 29/7059, 27/3054, 27/4011.

68 estimated to have been living in the Sydney region at the arrival of the First Fleet in 1788.

With similar climate, food sources, including coastal seafood, river and estuarine resources and abundant open grasslands and their accompanying animal food supply a similar figure might also be estimated for the Hunter Valley. 6

The boundaries and borders of each of these groups were fluid spaces, with transition zones and areas of common passage used as trade routes or access through to ceremonial grounds. Each larger group was divided into smaller family units, who in turn provided direct connection to neighbouring people via the intermarriage of the men and women.

The connection through marriage meant some family units would be made up of different language groups, which in turn gradually ensured a certain commonality in language through a larger district, as children learnt the language of mothers and fathers or other relations and incorporated new words into their own vocabulary. The interwoven kinship connected the Aboriginal groups throughout the Hunter region and beyond to the Central

Coast and Sydney districts and over the Great Dividing Range to the central western plains and northern New South Wales. 7

The evidence for these connections between the Hunter and the surrounding regions includes similarities in the language, the movement of trade items through the Aboriginal economy and the commonality of mythology and belief. In 1825, Threlkeld, while still based in Newcastle noted the similarity of the languages spoken by the different people he encountered. After his relocation to his main mission site at Lake Macquarie, Threlkeld came to realise through his intimate interactions with the people visiting his mission and his learning of the local languages, that the people were connected through kinship, culture and language to a much larger area then simply Lake Macquarie or even the Hunter.

6 Attenbrow, Sydney’s Aboriginal Past , p. 158. 7 H. Carey, ‘Death, God and Linguistics: Conversations with Missionaries on the Australian Frontier, 1824-1845’ in Australian Historical Studies (AHS), Vol. 40, Issue 2 June 2009, 165.

69 Rather, the people were part of a wider community, or a coastal group, that spread from the Hawkesbury River in the south to Port Stephens in the north. 8

Although people such as Threlkeld recognised the similarities amongst the Aboriginal people around Newcastle and Lake Macquarie, later nineteenth century anthropologists looked to differences in the quest to classify the various peoples. Alfred W. Howitt, Robert

Hamilton Mathews, John Fraser and J.W. Fawcett were anthropologists who studied the

Aboriginal people of the Hunter Valley in the second half of the nineteenth century. R.H.

Mathews, a licensed surveyor who had had close dealings with Aboriginal people across the state through his work, was converted to anthropology via an encounter with the rock art site of Baiami at Milbrodale, near Singleton. From the 1890s Mathews compiled word lists, and recorded rock art sites, ceremonies and initiations of Aboriginal people, trying, as earlier anthropologists had done, to collect “the remnants” of what he thought were dying languages.9

Recent debate has suggested that this drive to classify languages has led to a misrepresentation of some of the Aboriginal groups in the Sydney and Hunter Valley region. Michael Powell and Rex Hesline argue that the layering of interpretation of

Aboriginal groups by First Fleet and colonial officers, missionaries and later ethnographers has led to a distorted view of who the people were or which groups they belonged to. 10

They suggest that the European misinterpretation of the words they recorded have themselves become the identifying names of the various groups, and that identifying themselves with “tribal” names were not the preoccupation of the Aboriginal people at the time. Amongst the group names now used to identify Hunter Valley people that Powell

8 Carey ‘Death, God and Linguistics’, 165. 9 Thomas, The Many Worlds of R.H. Mathews , pp. 231-246 10 M. Powell and R. Hesline ’Making tribes? Constructing Aboriginal tribal entities in Sydney and coastal NSW from the early colonial period to the present’, JRAHS, Vol. 96, Part 2, December 2010, 115-148.

70 and Hesline identify as being European constructions are Awabakal, Wonaruah, Darkinung and Wiradjuri.

Powell and Hesline argue that much of the confusion lies in the misinterpretation of the language from the earliest European attempts. Some words and names attributed to groups however also appear to be pure invention on the part of the anthropologist, such as

Awabakal for the Newcastle group. In 1892, in a republished version of Threlkelds’ 1830s work on Australian Language, the editor John Fraser attributed the word Awabakal to the dialect spoken around Lake Macquarie and Newcastle, taken, as he claimed, from the word

Awaba meaning Lake Macquarie, hence Awabakal people of Lake Macquarie. 11 And yet, in

Threlkeld’s extensive work on the language of the people he interacted with on a daily basis there is no such term. Indeed Threlkeld, with the help of his own interpreter, an

Aboriginal man Biraban, who served as a teacher and collaborator with Threlkeld, recorded the word used for Lake Macquarie as Nik-kin, meaning coal or a place of coals.

Powell and Hesline argue that the names Darkinung and Wonarua are also misnomers, although coming about in a far less deliberate or manipulative way. Both of these may be from a misunderstanding of the language made in the later part of the nineteenth century by Mathews and fellow anthropologist E. H. Curr. The term Darkinung first gains prominence in Mathews’ work who described an initiation ceremony amongst the

Darkinung in an 1897 article to the Royal Society of Victoria. Mathews notes that the initiation ceremony was practised by the people between Newcastle and Sydney, with one of the principal dialects being Darkinung. This language was spoken by the Aboriginal people occupying the land on the southern side of the Hunter River from Jerry’s Plains, down towards Maitland, south to Wollombi Brook, Putty Creek and taking in the

11 Powell and Hesline, ‘Making tribes’, 134.

71 Macdonald, Colo and Hawkesbury Rivers. 12 Powell and Hesline claim that Mathews, getting his information from two old initiates, misunderstood their reference to initiated men as

Darkinung as being a reference to the group rather than merely an expression meaning “all of the men” or “belonging to the initiated men”. Similarly, the Wonarua may come from the combination of the words “won” meaning where and “unnoa” meaning that, hence

“won-unnoa” or where that? Thus a question of “where is your land?” may have elicited a translation of the question rather than a direct answer. The translation, “won-unnoa” was then mistaken for the answer and the group was henceforth labelled. 13 Be that as it may, these are the names accepted by the people of these areas today as their identity within the wider Aboriginal community.

The naming of groups of people, while giving identity and affirmation to descendants amongst other things, tends to create an impression of defined boundaries in which the people lived historically. However, Threlkeld’s work suggests a more fluid understanding of people’s place and their connections to land and their neighbours. R.H. Mathews also documented the transition between territories, curiously in the very article that Powell and

Hesline cite in relation to the erroneous naming of the Darkinung. Mathews, in describing an initiation ceremony remarked on the gathering of men from neighbouring “tribes” who attend the ceremony and noted that the ceremony and the procedure of attracting and hosting the groups from elsewhere, is “practically the same as previously described by me in the initiation ceremonies of other tribes”.14 Difference is however noted in that each group identifies themselves with particular country, for as each new group arrives they call out the names of the mountains, water-holes and trees of their country and then pitch their camps on the side of the ceremonial ground closest to their country.

12 R. H. Mathews, ‘The Burbung of the Darkinung Tribes’ in The Proceedings of the Royal Society of Victoria , Vol.10, Part 1, 1897, 1. 13 Powell and Hesline, ’Making Tribes’,133. 14 Mathews (1897), ’The Burbung of the Darkinung’, 4.

72 These connections to neighbours no doubt assisted in spreading the word of the European settlement that was developing to the south around Sydney Harbour from 1788. The track that the shipwrecked sailors had been directed onto in 1796 led all the way from Newcastle to Port Jackson, indicating some regular or at least well known land route. It is conceivable that Aboriginal people from Newcastle and the lower Hunter travelled down this track to see the newcomers at Sydney and the growing town in the years after 1788. Similarly those in the upper valley may have trekked through the mountains via the Boree Track that crossed via the Wollombi to the Hawkesbury settlements for the same purpose. 15

There is evidence that Aboriginal people were in fact making this journey back and forth to

Sydney prior to the arrival of Europeans in the valley. During the first official survey of the harbour at Coal River (or the Hunter as it was to be known) in 1801, Colonel Paterson, who was part of the survey team, met an Aboriginal man who was known to him from Sydney. 16

It was into this connected society that Europeans first invaded, in pursuit of profit and resources. Seams of coal were visible threading through the coastal cliffs and lumps of it lay on the shore. The newly discovered harbour was fed by a large fresh water river that snaked its way through forest and grasslands towards mountains in the distance, while cedar trees and other valuable timbers grew along its banks. On the shoreline of the sheltered harbour were deep middens, perfect for making lime for the growing town of

Sydney some eighty sailing miles south, while the land itself was in parts as open as an

English meadow, with rolling grass hills interrupted by widely spaced trees.

Although these resources would be the ultimate attraction for settlement in the Valley from 1801 onwards, the first Europeans to encounter the place were not there for any

15 Needham, Burragurra , p. 4. 16 J. Grant, The Narrative of a Voyage of Discovery performed in his Majesty’s Vessel The Lady Nelson, of sixty tons burthen, with sliding keel in the years 1800, 1801 and 1802 to New South Wales , (facsimile edition) 1973, Libraries Board of South Australia, Adelaide, p. 155.

73 economic reasons, but were rather attempting to escape the colony altogether. In 1790, five convicts slipped out of Sydney in an open boat. Five years later four of the five were discovered living amongst Aboriginal people at Port Stephens, where they had been accepted into the group, permitted to take wives and fathered a number of children. At least once during their time at Port Stephens, another European party had entered the bay–Deputy Surveyor General Charles Grimes had visited in February 1795. Although he had not been informed of the presence of the European runaways by the Aboriginal people he meet, the runaways had known of his arrival, despite being far inland, as related later on their return to Sydney. 17 While no direct evidence of an excursion into the Hunter by any of these men exists, the distance is not great and the Worimi peoples land extended between the mouth of the Hunter and the Port Stephens area. The fact they reported being far inland when Grimes was in Port Stephens, suggests that some journeys across country were taking place.

Not all experiences were so peaceful. In June 1796, prior to the sailors shipwrecked and their overland trek, another fishing boat had entered a bay near Port Stephens from where they had returned to Sydney with several large pieces of coal. While not named, it is again thought that this bay was Newcastle Harbour. David Collins, who reported both incidents, noted that the first party had “conducted themselves improperly” while on shore and two of the fishermen had been severely wounded by Aborigines, one dying of his wounds in the

Sydney Hospital. 18 Collins does not elaborate on what he means by these men “conducting themselves improperly”, so we can only speculate. Perhaps they had attempted to steal something from the Aborigines or attacked them. Maybe they were the target of a

17 D. J. Ryan, ‘The Discovery and First Settlement of Newcastle and Genesis of the Coal Industry’, JRAHS , Vol. IX, Part V 1923, 229. David Collins relates the story of the four runaways, noting that they were returned to Sydney aboard the HMS Providence that had been forced into Port Stephens in heavy weather. See Collins, D, 1798, An Account of the English Colony in New South Wales, Volume 1, Brian Fletcher (ed) AH and AW Reed, Sydney, 1975, p. 402. 18 Collins, An Account of the English Colony , p. 402

74 revenge attack by the Aboriginal men for violence committed by other Europeans, or possibly the Europeans had assaulted local Aboriginal women. Abductions, attacks and rapes of Aboriginal women were the underlying cause of a number of attacks around colonial Sydney and the Hawkesbury at this time and later. Many of the assaults have been attributed to the sexual imbalance between European men and women in the colony, with convict men being most often blamed for addressing their sexual frustrations through violent assaults on Aboriginal women. Henry Reynolds notes that women were a major focus of Aboriginal politics and the control of their bestowal was central to the power structures of Aboriginal society. 19

Collins also provides evidence of Aboriginal connections between the Hunter Valley and

Sydney. When commenting on the four “rescued” convicts from Port Stephens, he noted that the language of the north appeared different, as none of the Aboriginal people who lived amongst them in Sydney could understand all of what they (the convicts) said, except one younger man who occasionally came in. His name was Wur-gan, and he had been taught all the dialects from Botany Bay to Port Stephens by his mother, who Collins says was born and bred beyond the mountains but was at the Hawkesbury and spoke more than one dialect. The mountains that Collins was referring to were not the Blue Mountains in the west but rather those that enclosed Sydney to the north and ran in a continuum through to the Hunter Valley. Wur-gan, who may have taken his name from George

Worgan, surgeon in the First Fleet on the Sirius , was of a “roving disposition” and had hence learnt all the dialects his mother knew, using them in his overland travels. He may have been a Buntimai , a messenger or ambassador in the Newcastle language, which

19 H. Reynolds, The Other Side of the Frontier: Aboriginal resistance to the European Invasion of Australia , UNSW Press, Sydney, 2006, p. 75.

75 enabled him to move between the territories of different people. 20 While Collins’ point is the perceived differences in the various languages around Sydney, his description of Wur- gan and his roving also illustrate the connections between regions and peoples. 21

Finally, more escaping convicts led to the first of the official parties to enter and report on the Hunter River estuary. In 1796, while pursuing another set of runaways who had seized the government boat Cumberland , Lieutenant John Shortland sought shelter from a gale.

Entering a harbour shadowed by a “clump of an island”, he realised he was within an estuary as a surge of current made its way past his landing point and out to sea. Shortland had stumbled upon a new river, which he named the Hunter in honour of the then

Governor. During his brief stay he noted the depth of the water inside the harbour and collected specimens of coal to show the Governor. 22

As word of the newly discovered harbour circulated around Sydney town, a number of the colony’s earliest merchant entrepreneurs sent boats north with gangs to mine the coal.

The emancipists merchants and James Underwood, as well as Lord’s partner,

Hugh Meehan, had all gained permission to send boats to the new river to collect coal to sell in Sydney and to export it to the British colonial holdings in India and the Cape Colonies in South Africa by mid–1799. 23

With the growing number of European gangs entering the harbour, incidents of violence involving the local Aboriginal people also increased. The boat loads of coal miners were not accompanied by soldiers or other official personnel but were often armed. The river and harbour were largely uncharted and unknown territory and beyond the limits of the

20 J. Fraser (ed), An Australian Language as Spoken by the Awabakal, The People of Awaba or Lake Macquarie Being and Account of their Language, Traditions and Customs by LE Threlkeld , Government Printer, Sydney, 1892, p. 49. 21 Collins, (1798) An Account of the English Colony, p. 357. 22 Ryan, ’Discovery and First Settlement’, 230. 23 Ryan, ’Discovery and First Settlement’, 233.

76 influence of government. There was a certain amount of nervous vigilance to these parties, as any number of things could go wrong, but also a freedom of movement and action given their operations were beyond the official eye of the colony. Their small craft were vulnerable to the vagaries of the weather or the rushing tide and unpredictable surf that was funnelled through the harbour mouth, between the shoreline and the small island known as Nobbys Head. Men could easily get lost in the uncharted bushland or the myriad of channels and water ways that led away from the main harbour, while swampy ground and the river were treacherous places for men who could not swim. But it was encounters with Aboriginal people that caused the most concern.

In April 1799, reports reached Sydney that two boats, permitted to go to Hunters River for a load of coals, had been “cut off by the natives”. An armed whale boat was dispatched with Henry Hacking in command. Hacking was the former quartermaster of the Sirius and expert shot and survivor of a previous Aboriginal ambush.24 He was trusted by Governor

Hunter and had confidence in his own abilities to handle himself in the bush and with

Aboriginal people. On arrival Hacking saw one of the two boats. It appeared to have been burnt and had its sails and the crew missing. In searching for the men, he fell in with a large body of Aboriginal men, all armed, who told him that the men from the boat had left the area and returned to Sydney. Hacking, not believing them and assuming the worst, threatened to shoot them if they did not instantly inform him of the missing men’s whereabouts. In what must have then played out as both a tense and unnerving moment, the Aboriginal men laughed at Hacking, poised as if to launch their spears and informed him that if he did not leave them a small two-oared boat he brought with him and go away, they would in fact kill him and all his men.

24 G. P. Walsh, ‘Hacking, Henry (1750-1831)’, Australian Dictionary of Biography , Volume 1, Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 1966.

77 Attempting to regain control of the situation, Hacking levelled his musket and snapped it without priming, firing the powder with no shot in an attempt to scare them. But these men did not scare easily and advanced on Hacking instead. Hacking, had by now primed his weapon and fired buck shot into the assembled group, knocking four down. When only one man got up, Hacking, figuring the other three mortally wounded, packed his boat and left.

Later it emerged that Hacking had acted prematurely, when the missing men turned up in

Sydney, having apparently travelled overland. 25 In a further, sadly ironic twist, it is likely that news of the initial disappearance had made it to Sydney via the connections between

Aboriginal people in the Hunter and Sydney, with word moving across the land between the Aboriginal people travelling back and forth. 26

Trying to understand the sudden show of hostility by the Aboriginal men, Collins simply put it down to the tendency of Aboriginal people to attack on impulse, which made it difficult to trust them. He noted, with not a hint of irony, that the Europeans visiting the river had always treated the Aboriginal men there with kindness and civility. 27 This is despite Collins himself reporting the incident in 1796 which resulted in the spearing of two fishermen at the Hunter due to their “improper conduct”.

What happened on the shore that day to make Hacking believe the Aboriginal men were not only lying but ready to attack him? Could it have been the other way around? Was it that the Aboriginal men believed they were about to be attacked and moved to defend themselves? Hacking had been involved in a similar incident many years earlier. Collins reported in 1789 Hacking had shot at, and wounded, some Aboriginal men in Sydney he

25 D. Collins, (1802), An Account of the English Colony in New South Wales, Volume II, Brian Fletcher (ed), AH and AW Reed, Sydney, 1975, p. 146. 26 Ryan, ‘Discovery and First Settlement’, 235. 27 Collins, (1802), An Account of the English Colony, Vol. II , p. 147.

78 perceived were following him in the bush while he was hunting. According to Hacking, there were up to forty men and after he first presented his weapon to scare them, he followed this with bird shot, and then buck shot which scattered his pursuers. 28 How did

Hacking converse with the Hunter warriors and understand their responses, when there had been little contact and later correspondents claimed not to be able to understand the language at all? Hacking might have had an Aboriginal interpreter with him, although

Collins does not mention one. Historian Inga Clendinnen notes that any consideration of colonial conversations between Europeans and Aboriginals in these early years needs to be treated with the caution that comes with the uncertainty of mutual understanding of the participants. 29 The incident reads as being highly charged, with threats of fatal violence and would not have progressed at a rate conducive to reasoned interpretation. Instead

Hacking may have been relying on a mix of Sydney language, pigeon English and gestures to determine the fate of the missing men and decide a course of action. 30 And what had been the initial incident that had caused the abandonment of the boats and the overland trek to

Sydney? Although not reported, it is likely a simple explanation. Like the fishing parties in

1796, these men had probably wrecked their small, open boat in heavy seas, and once ashore, had been guided back to Sydney by the local Aboriginal people.

In contrast, in November 1800, the Government ship Norfolk was seized by fifteen convicts at Broken Bay and taken north. Putting in to Newcastle harbour, six of the men decided to stay when the Norfolk left, taking their chances on land rather than the unknown sea. The six set camp on the north side of the Harbour, close to Throsby’s Creek at present day

Carrington. Here they lived on fish and meat provided by local Aboriginal groups, as well as and pumpkins grown from seed taken in the initial escape. Two more convicts joined

28 Collins, (1798), An Account of the English Colony, Vol. I , p. 67 29 I. Clendinnen, Dancing with Strangers , Text Publishing, Melbourne, 2003, p. 112. 30 Clendinnen, Dancing with Strangers , p. 113.

79 them, having run from a private timber cutting crew. Nothing more would have been known of this party had not three, tired of the bush life, decided to leave and return to

Sydney. Two of them survived the overland trip south, being picked up in Broken Bay and returned to Sydney where they gave their account at trial. The others disappeared into the bush, but at least some survived. In June 1801 a European made net was found with

Aboriginal people at Throsby’s Creek and a soldier named Whitaker, accompanying the first official survey party in 1801, saw a man named Grace in European jacket and trousers who was believed to be the gang leader. 31

These few examples provide tantalising glimpses of the edge of the colonial world prior to

1801. It also belies the common assertion that the penal settlement at Sydney was a natural gaol and that convicts were afraid to enter the surrounding bush. The evidence of survival of a number of separate bands of convicts, living amongst Aboriginal people, in some cases for four or five years, speaks of a convict population growing increasingly familiar with the margins of the known settlement.

‘Discovering’ the River In July 1801, with an increasing commercial trade centring on the Hunter, Governor King instructed Lieutenant , master of the survey ship Lady Nelson to proceed to

Hunter’s River to undertake an official survey. Grant was accompanied by Lieutenant

Colonel (and Lieutenant Governor) William Paterson, Surgeon John Harris, the surveyor

Francis Barrallier, six soldiers, two sawyers, a pilot, a miner and an Aboriginal guide,

Bungaree. A second ship, the schooner Francis was sent to collect coals, specimens of fauna and flora and, if weather permitted, to proceed to Port Stephens to make

31 Lieutenant Colonel Paterson to Governor King (Kings Papers), Historical Records of New South Wales (HRNSW ), Hunter and King, 1800-1802 ,Volume 4, Government Printer, Sydney, 1896, p. 416.

80 observations there. Grant was also ordered to assist Barrallier in a complete survey of the entrance and course of the Hunter River. 32

Bungaree, reportedly from the Broken Bay area, was already building a reputation in colonial Sydney as a trusted and reliable intermediary for exploring Europeans. His inclusion in the survey expedition was likely due to his having gone with in 1798 on a voyage to along with two other Aboriginal men, Nanberry and

Wingal. Flinders wrote that his “good disposition and open and manly conduct had attracted my esteem” before taking him again in 1799 as an interpreter and intermediary

33 on his survey of Hervey Bay. After Flinders took Bungaree on his 1802–1803 circumnavigation of Australia, he noted Bungaree’s abilities in bringing about a “friendly intercourse” with other natives along the coast. 34

Bungaree’s first opportunity to act as interpreter for Grant occurred before the expedition’s arrival in the Hunter. When the ships were off the heads of Lake Macquarie,

Harris and a party went ashore, returning with an Aboriginal man who had run down to the boat calling out “whale boat” and “Budgerie Dick”, or Good Dick, which Grant supposed had been taught to him by earlier European visitor.35 After a long interview, Bungaree could give the Europeans little information. Grant assumed this to mean that Bungaree could not understand the man “for some of our people, who were best acquainted with the language spoken by the natives round Sydney, were at the same loss”. 36 But it is highly unlikely that Bungaree did not understand Budgerie Dick in conversation, as Bungaree was himself identified as a Broken Bay man, less than thirty kilometres south of where Budgerie

32 Governor King to Lieutenant James Grant (King Papers), HRNSW, Hunter and King, 1800-1802 , Volume 4, Government Printer, Sydney, 1896, p. 390. 33 K. V. Smith, Mari Nawi: Aboriginal Odysseys, Rosenberg Publishing, Dural, 2010, p. 103. 34 T. Flannery (ed), Terra Australis: Matthew Flinders’ Great Adventures in the Circumnavigation of Australia , Text Publishing, Melbourne, 2000, pp. 34 and 123. 35 Grant, The Narrative of a Voyage of Discovery, p. 150. 36 Grant, The Narrative of a Voyage of Discovery, p. 151.

81 Dick was picked up. Further, remembering Threlkeld’s later observations that the coastal language was common between Newcastle and Sydney, it would appear that Bungaree and

Budgerie Dick understood each other well enough, but Bungaree decided for whatever reason, not to pass the information on. The expedition did not get another chance to ask, as when they arrived in Newcastle harbour, Bungaree left the ship and slipped off into the bush. 37 He must have had some connection with the Newcastle area to be bold enough to simply walk away into the country. If he did have a deeper connection to the Hunter, his abandonment of the party may suggest that he had taken the boat for his own purposes rather than going to assist the Europeans. Flinders noted that Bungaree volunteered in

1802 to join him on the circumnavigation of the continent. If Bungaree had previously walked between Broken Bay and the Hunter or the Hunter and Sydney, he may have volunteered to join the Lady Nelson as a way of cutting his own travel time. 38

Grant and his party stayed for six weeks, exploring the harbour and rivers that fed into it.

The survey confirmed the ready resource of coal on shore and the miners were soon put to work extracting it and loading the Francis . With an eye for future use, Grant and Paterson noted the forest timbers, the open grass land and the areas that were subject to flooding.

Paterson wrote in his journal of the future he saw for the settlement of the valley:

From the several excursions I made during the time the Lady Nelson lay in

Freshwater Bay I am of opinion that Government might derive many

advantages by forming a small settlement at this place. In the 1 st instance,

the coals are a principal object. 2 nd Boiling salt which could be done with

little labour. 3 rd Burning shells that are here in great abundance. Besides,

salting fish might be carried on with considerable benefit if some

37 Surgeon Harris to Governor King (King Papers), 25 June 1801, HRNSW , Vol. IV, p. 417. 38 Smith, Mari Nawi , p. 106.

82 industrious fisherman could be found for that purpose, as the fish are

plentiful and good. There is excellent pasture for cattle, but until where

the rivers meet is not fit for cultivation. 39

Figure 5 : Grant’s survey ship the Lady Nelson at anchor in the Coal River looking from the Newcastle shoreline. The beach and headland on the right is Stockton, the mountains of the Barrington Range are visible in the distance. (Source: SLNSW PXD 942)

As the survey progressed, the abundance of the resource became increasingly clear.

Timber getters began working on Ash Island, one of the estuary islands so called after the timber resembling English ash trees noted there by Grant, and were quickly heading up river with the survey party. Sawpits from Meehan’s earlier expeditions were still in place on the northern shore of the harbour, while enough cedar had already been reported along

39 Lieutenant Colonel Paterson’s Journal, Historical Records of Australia (HRA), 1801-1802, Series I, Vol. III, 1915, Library Committee of the Commonwealth Parliament, Canberra, p. 176. Freshwater Bay was the name given to an inlet on the western side of what is now Stockton, most likely . “Where the rivers meet” is the junction of the Hunter and Williams Rivers near present day Raymond Terrace.

83 the Hunter River above its confluence with the Williams River for it to be named the Cedar

Arm. Barrallier reported that the Paterson River (as the Williams River was then known)

“has the advantage to have on its banks the finest cedars ever seen which may be on rafts with ease”.40 Paterson noted the grass covered slopes and fields with all the appearance of sheep lands in England, so much so that he named the hills behind the first coal shafts “Sheep Pasture Hills”, though the name did not survive the later settlement. 41 Grant also wrote of the luxurious grass that he encountered further up the river. At other places imposing stands of fine timber dominated the landscape. On the river in the mid valley, Grant noted in his journal:

Cedar grows along the banks of the river in great abundance and great

magnitude. The ash, gum-trees of all sorts, the swamp oak and tea tree is

also in great plenty and very large, together with various other woods. 42

The survey party came into increasing contact with Aboriginal people. As already mentioned, Harris had taken Budgerie Dick aboard the Lady Nelson at Lake Macquarie.

Like Bungaree, Budgerie Dick also left the group soon after arriving in Newcastle, but returned two days later, bringing two more men with him, one of which was the man whom Paterson recognised from Sydney. Was this mere coincidence? Or could it be that

Paterson’s Aboriginal acquaintance knew of his being in the neighbourhood and came specifically to see him, initiating a cross-cultural catch-up.

The surveyors saw plenty of evidence of Aboriginal occupation, commenting on the camp fires around the harbour, reporting the discovery of a fish weir or trap in a creek near

Newcastle and describing the canoes of the people at various locations on the river. They

40 Letter received by Sir from Charles Francis Greville, April 1802, including exert from Ensign Barrallier to Greville ca 1802, Banks Papers, Series 23.25, Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales (hereafter ML). 41 Paterson to Governor King, HRNSW , Vol. IV, p. 415. 42 Lieutenant Grant’s Journal at Hunter’s River, HRA , 1801-1802, Series I, Vol. III, p. 174.

84 also wrote in wonderment of the masses of oyster shells, which in some places lay three feet thick on the banks. Harris had never seen such quantities, and thought they would fill one hundred ships or more (which is exactly what they did when convict lime burners were sent to them). 43 It is not clear if the Europeans realised these were the oyster middens, accumulated over hundreds, if not thousands, of years. It is unlikely they appreciated that much of the cleared land and grassy luxuriance they marvelled at and imagined their sheep grazing upon was also the work of Aboriginal hands through centuries of land management, selective burning and cultivation to create a space in which to live and hunt.

Although Harris wrote to the Governor that the Aboriginal people were “remarkably shy”, and he feared they had been “badly used” by Europeans in the past, a number of Aboriginal men and boys did approach the party. One individual was met in the bush by Harris and

Barrallier near a spot where there were many kangaroos. He walked with them for some time before leaving. Thirty miles up the river from Shanks Forest, where Paterson had set up camp (Shanks Forest was forty miles from the harbour, around the junction of the

Williams and Hunter Rivers), the party observed an Aboriginal camp in the distance. Seeing the Europeans approach, the people fled, leaving behind only the ashes of their fires, the footprints of children and the ground covered in freshwater shell fish. 44 The scattering of the camp may have related to Harris’s comments regarding the mistreatment of the

Aboriginal residents by earlier expeditions, probably the private coal, timber and fishing parties of the late 1790s.

43 Harris to King, HRNSW , Vol. IV, p. 417. 44 Grant, Narrative of a voyage , p. 161. Paterson had named a spot where he set up camp as Shanks Forest, Pasture Plains. This was described as being forty miles from where the Lady Nelson was anchored. Shank was the ship builder who had designed the Lady Nelson’s unique shifting keel system, whereby the keel could be altered to allow the ship to proceed in very shallow drafts down to six feet deep, thus allowing it to survey further up rivers then a standard naval vessel. Paterson’s description of the place, as well as honouring Shank’s maritime design skills, gives a hint at the type of land they had encountered, with both forest and open plains. It was ideal country for settlement.

85 Other individuals were more eager to meet them. A week after the ships arrived, Barrallier and the second mate met an older Aboriginal man in the bush, whom they then bought aboard the Lady Nelson . Grant described him as a “Bush Native”, and noted he retained all his front teeth, as opposed to those at Port Jackson. 45 He was a man accustomed to climbing; a skill learnt hunting possums, as demonstrated by his ascending the ship’s ladder by stretching his arms out as far as he could before bringing his legs up to them. Paterson gave the man a tomahawk on his leaving, while the crew of the boat who rowed him back to shore, indicated their desire for a demonstration of his climbing skills. Making a notch in the tree with his new tomahawk, he placed his foot in it and continued forty feet up the smooth trunk, before crossing the branches to another tree, descending and disappearing into the bush with his new tool. 46 It was noted by Grant that the traditional tool used by the locals was made of sharpened stone and that many of the trees were notched. Axes were made locally in a number of sites through the valley, particularly in areas away from the coast where larger river pebbles were available, including at Bulga, Belford, Milbrodale and Maitland, and then traded through the area. The people had what some archaeologists refer to as an axe culture. 47 While this term refers to their physical culture as seen in the archaeology, and the importance ascribed to axes, Aboriginal people in the Hunter Valley could just as readily be described as being part of a tree or possum culture, representing their use of and reliance on these resources for food, shelter and clothing. They could also be considered, more appropriately perhaps, as river people, as, away from the coast, it was the rivers and creeks of the valley that sustained all the people and most of what they depended on for survival.

45 Tooth avulsion was a part of the male initiation ceremony practised around the Sydney area. 46 Grant, The Narrative of a Voyage of Discovery, p. 158. 47 F. McCarthy and F.A. Davidson, ‘The Elouera Industry of Singleton, Hunter River, New South Wales’, Records of the Australian Museum , Volume 21, No.4, 1943, 228.

86 Figure 6 : ‘Ca -la -watum -ba, a native of the Coal River’ c1810. This sketch of an initiated Aboriginal man from Newcastle by an unknown artist shows his cicatrices or initiation scars on his shoulders, back and chest. His hair tied in a tight pyramid form suggests he may have been a Buntimai, or messenger, permitted to travel between Country. (Source: SLNSW P2/425)

In a separate encounter, further up the river, Grant and others passed “several natives with their canoes”, many of whom had small cooking fires in them, a practice already observed on the harbour in Sydney. From the river Grant saw several other men, one of whom appeared to be waiting for their approach. Grant called to him and approached, however the man moved behind a tree, presenting just his head and shoulders and brandishing a fishing spear, which he put down on seeing that the Europeans were unarmed. The river man took a small, woven, possum fur net from his forehead and bound it around Grant’s head. Grant returned the favour with his pocket-handkerchief and invited the man on board the small survey boat. As the river man boarded, Grant was surprised to hear the calling of many other Aboriginal voices from the woods on the opposite shore. The river man called back and their voices quietened, Grant surmising that they called to see if he was in danger and he assured them “he had nothing to fear”.48 The man was taken down

48 Grant, The Narrative of a Voyage of Discovery , p. 164.

87 river to the Lady Nelson , where his astonishment at everything on board was noted with some satisfaction. Spending the night aboard, staying close to Grant the entire time, he was returned up river to the same spot he was first taken from in the ships boat and given a tomahawk, which he identified as mogo , the same word used by Aboriginal people in

Sydney. 49 It also no doubt added to the supposed bargaining power of the Europeans; they had an item desired by the locals and they now had the name for it. 50

Figure 7 : Grant’s camp on the Paterson River, 1801 as sketched by J . W. Lewin, the artist accompanying the expedition. Collected specimens hang from the makeshift tent, with a meal on the fire and the men engulfed by its smoke. This depiction of Grant and his party represents the first image of Europeans in the Hunter Valley. (Source: SLNSW PXD 388)

To the amazement of the first mate, in charge of the repatriation of their guest, the old man from the day before, who had displayed his climbing prowess, approached the boat as it returned with a young man about 17 years of age, both of who indicated they not only wished to come aboard, but also desired the receipt of a mogo . Apparently word was

49 Collins, Account of the English Colony Vol. 1, p. 510. 50 Grant, The Narrative of a Voyage , , p. 164

88 spreading through the communities. The artist John Lewin, who was accompanying the survey, sketched the portraits of these two men, who were “exceedingly well pleased when they understood that their likenesses were about to be taken...”. These portraits no longer survive. 51

The willingness, indeed the stated desire in one case, of these men to go on board the ship raises some interesting questions about these early interactions. It was the Aboriginal men in these last few cases who initiated contact. Considering the forest cover and narrow ribbon of water to which the Europeans were largely confined, this could easily have been avoided. Was it curiosity that encouraged them on board or the opportunity to initiate a trade and acquire mogo ? There is no mention of any Aboriginal trade items, except the possum fur net acquired by Grant. In her study of the settlement at King George’s Sound in

Western Australia, Tiffany Shellam notes that Aboriginal men of the King Ya-nup often came aboard the survey ships of Phillip Parker King to trade, as they did later to ships arriving to supply the growing garrison. The ships at King George’s Sound were a symbol of the increasing prospects for trade and later travel available to the King Ya-nup. Their eagerness to board was a noted feature of the interactions between the two cultures.

Shellam notes that King was happy enough to conduct his meetings on board, as this was a controlled space for the Europeans. 52

Shellam also makes the point that King was not the first European to enter the waters of

King George’s Sound, just as Grant and his party were not the first to come to the Hunter.

51 Grant, Narrative of a Voyage , p. 165. R. Neville, Mr JW Lewin: Painter & Naturalist , NewSouth, Sydney, 2012, p. 72. Lewin made a number of other sketches and paintings of this journey, including one of the banks of Paterson’s River that shows a crude shelter erected between two trees, with Lewin’s guns standing up outside and a number of birds hanging, waiting to be preserved. Inside the tent, Paterson himself is shown relaxing, lying back propped on one elbow. Other members of the party sit around a smoking fire outside. This is the earliest known painting showing the Hunter Valley beyond the Newcastle Harbour area. ML PXD 388 Vol. 1/2. 52 T. Shellam, Shaking Hands on the Fringe: Negotiating the Aboriginal World at King George’s Sound , University of Western Australia Press, Perth, 2009, pp. 10-12; 136-137.

89 There had been regular visits by coal and logging ships from the mid–1790s. A trade in goods could have been going on for some time prior to Grant arriving and a familiarity with the ships of the logging and mining crews may have acted to break down some of the apprehensions. Grant and his men were not even the first crews to venture this far up the river, as Grant encountered a party of nine private sawyers several miles upriver. Sent by the Commissary John Palmer, the men were preparing to walk overland to Sydney as their provisions were getting low, when they saw the ships from a hill top and so made their way to the river. 53

With his own provisions running low, Grant returned to Sydney on July 22, leaving behind a small party to continue the coal mine workings. The party was joined by a group of soldiers led by Corporal Wexstead, who was selected to run the new settlement. However the task was beyond him and he was replaced by the magistrate Martin Mason in October 1801. 54

By now the river and its resources were, nominally at least, under the firm hand of government, with orders being posted that all coal and timber at Hunter’s River were the exclusive property of the Crown, and any boat heading there for obtaining coal, timber or any other purpose was allowed to do so only with the express written permission of the

Governor. Anyone caught there without such permission would have their crew imprisoned and the vessel seized. Dues and fees were also to be levied upon any vessel that wished to go to the river for coal or timber. 55

In late 1801, with future settlement in mind, Governor King ordered Surveyor General

Charles Grimes and Francis Barrallier to conduct a more detailed survey than that carried out in the Lady Nelson . Grimes’ report to King in March 1802 was not particularly

53 Grant, The Narrative of a Voyage of Discovery, p. 159. 54 Governor King Letters, Re: Newcastle 1801-1805, ML,MSS 582. 55 King to Portland, Orders Regulating Coal and Timber Trade, 3 July 1801, HRA , Series I, Vol. III p. 257.

90 favourable, noting the extensive swamplands beyond the river, the clear evidence of recent flooding, with some country underwater even before the banks of the river had overflowed, due to their low elevation. 56 He did manage to explore another river running into the Hunter, remarking upon the blue-gum and apple trees (angophoras) growing on the low grounds and the plentiful stands of cedar and kurrajongs along its banks. Grimes named this the Paterson River, but he was in fact on the Hunter itself above the present day town of Raymond Terrace, while the upper reaches of what Grimes thought was the

Hunter River was instead the Williams River. The naming of the rivers and natural features observed during the survey conveyed a mix of official patronage and descriptive, almost experiential, naming practices, as had occurred around the Hawkesbury settlements.

While the Williams and the Paterson were named after the Lieutenant Governor, other places such as Freshwater Bay, Pirate Point (Stockton), Colliers Point (),

Sheep Pasture Hills (east Newcastle) and Shanks Forest (near Maitland) were all examples of places named informally after their use or the colloquial expression of those on the survey party or the sawyers, fishers and miners who had preceded them. 57 None of these names survive in the modern Hunter.

According to Mason, the magistrate who had replaced Wexstead in October, Grimes and

Barrallier also reported that the Aboriginal people were hostile. Mason related an encounter that had occurred at the settlement on the harbour in November 1801. About sixty or seventy men, women and children “came in here without spears and manifested the most friendly disposetions (sic)”. He also fell in with a party of thirty men, women and children up-river, who he said appeared to challenge his landing. Being in a boat, he called to one man in a canoe who had visited the settlement and landed alongside him. The people advised him on the best way up the river, some paddling in canoes in front of the

56 ‘Observations by Surveyor Grimes on Hunter River’, March 1802, HRA , Series I, Vol. III, p. 414-415. 57 HRA, Series I, Vol. III, Note 71, p. 774.

91 boat to show him the deep water. 58 From these brief descriptions, a hostile disposition does not appear to manifest itself clearly. Maybe the large numbers of people being encountered and coming into the settlement to investigate were making the Europeans nervous, reinforcing their sense of isolation. It is also likely that these groups were merely gathering at their traditional campsites. The convict artist Joseph Lycett, transported to

Newcastle in 1815, painted Aboriginal campsites on the harbour shore at Newcastle, while recent archaeological excavations along the foreshore have revealed deep and extensive shell middens, evidence of thousands of years of occupation. Many of these middens were later destroyed by convict work gangs, the shells burnt for lime to be used in the colonial building industry in Sydney.

The canoes reported by Grant and Mason were a common form of transport amongst

Aboriginal people, from the harbour all the way up the river at least to present day

Singleton. While they were similar in design and construction across the Hunter, commonly a sheet of bark tied at either end with bark strips (the same style as those in the

Sydney area, the Hawkesbury and the Nepean), the means of propulsion differed depending on the area of the river where they were used. On the harbour and deeper sections of the river, small paddles were employed, one in each hand, while further up- river the canoe was guided by a long pole, much like an English punt. 59

Mason’s settlement did not last, largely due to his poor and harsh handling of the convicts and soldiers. By December he had been recalled to Sydney, leaving Wexsted in charge of dismantling the camp. By February 1802 the first attempt at settlement was over.

58 Mason to Governor King, 21 November 1801, HRNSW , Vol. IV, p. 628. 59 Brayshaw , Aborigines of the Hunter Valley , p. 60 . Attenbrow, Sydney’s Aboriginal Past , p. 87. Letter received by Sir Joseph Banks from Charles Francis Greville, April 1802, including excerpt from Ensign Barrallier to Greville ca 1802, Banks Papers, Series 23.25, ML.

92 Although officially abandoned, private vessels continued to ply a trade in cedar and coal.

The Sydney Gazette reported ships returning to Sydney with at least 241 logs of cedar from the Hunter in 1803 and the first months of 1804. These came in on five separate vessels through the year, and at least five other ships were reported arriving from the Hunter River in that period with unspecified amounts of timber aboard. 60

Newcastle as a Convict Station By 1804 circumstances had changed in the colony. A convict uprising amongst the Irish in and around Castle Hill was brutally put down by the combined force of Government soldiers and armed settlers. Fifteen were left dead to rot in the field and forest, while nine of the ringleaders were executed. The uprising sent a shock wave through the Sydney region and prompted Governor King to re-examine the abandoned mining settlement at

Coal River.61

King appointed Lieutenant Charles Menzies of the Royal Marines, then assigned to the HMS

Calcutta, to supervise the reformed settlement. The first ships with Menzies, a Sergeant, nine rank and file of the , a marine, a superintendent (Isaac Knight, late Sergeant of the Marines), a surgeon, an overseer, and thirty four of the Irish rebels had been dispatched at the end of March, within one month of the uprising. The area had since been designated Newcastle on Coal Harbour, the river confirmed as the Hunter and the whole parcel set nicely in the newly proclaimed County of Northumberland. 62 Menzies was instructed to put the convicts to work mining coal and cutting cedar from the upper reaches of the harbour, which he duly did. By April Menzies reported he was under shelter, so presumably he also set some of the convicts to work building his first dwelling. In May a

60 Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser [hereafter SG] 12 March, 12 June, 17 July, 7 August, 16 October, 23 October, 13 November, 4 December, 25 December 1803; 19 February 1804. 61 King to Hobart, 12 March 1804, HRA Series I, Vol. IV, p. 564. 62 King to Menzies, 15 March 1804, Governor King Letters, Re: Newcastle 1801-1805, ML MSS 582.

93 further twenty English convicts were sent to Newcastle and by year’s end the population had risen to 128. 63

Newcastle was established as a place of secondary punishment, a penal station within a penal colony, yet also one with an economic purpose at its heart; the getting of coal, timber and lime for the growing colony and for export wherever possible. This tension was at the core of Newcastle’s foundational history. The natural resources extracted by the convict workers underpinned the construction of Sydney, particularly during the building boom overseen by Governor Macquarie from 1810 until 1821, while the coal represented the first international exports of any commodity from the Hunter Valley. Cedar and rosewood cut from the river banks were especially sought–after for colonial cabinet work and construction, with red cedar being one of the main exports between Sydney and Van

Diemen’s Land during the Macquarie period. 64 In some cases individual trees were selected for particular furniture commissions, such as tables or cabinets. 65

To be sent to Newcastle convicts and the occasional free settler, had to be convicted for an offence committed in the Colony by the Superintendent of Police or a magistrate, or have been reprieved from a colonial death sentence handed down by the Court of Criminal

Jurisdiction. Those sent on the “Governors Pleasure”, with the length of a sentence not specified were often recommended to be allowed to return to Sydney after one year if their behaviour merited it. 66 While the majority of those sent were men, some women

63 King to Menzies, HRA , Vol. V, pp. 412-17. 64 Eklund, ‘Official and Vernacular Public History’, 130. Also Kevin Fahy, ‘Furniture and Furniture- makers’, in James Broadbent and Joy Hughes (eds), of Macquarie , Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 1992, p. 124. 65 Purcell to Campbell, 21 July 1810, CSC, Special bundles-Newcastle, SRNSW R6066, 4/1804, p. 25b. Purcell reported that the two logs ordered for a dining table in Sydney were ready to be shipped and would be sent on the next ship leaving Newcastle.

66 Turner, Newcastle as a convict settlement , pp. 13, 53. See also, Lisa Ford and David Andrew Roberts, ‘New South Wales Penal Settlements and the Transformation of Secondary Punishment in the Nineteenth-Century British Empire, Journal of Colonialism & Colonial History , 15.3 (Winter 2014)

94 were also removed to Newcastle. Some were sent there without trial on the order of the

Governors, and still others were sent due to the unfortunate coincidence of having a particular skill required in the station. Miners were particularly susceptible to this.

However the majority of convicts were not skilled in the jobs they were to be assigned to, be that mining or timber getting, a fact often lamented by the Commandants in charge.

Despite this, the Governors had hopes for the export potential of the coal industry at

Newcastle and production figures did rise throughout the convict period. However it was not until the 1830s when mining was under the private ownership and direction of the

Australian Agricultural Company that mining truly became a profitable operation. 67 On the whole, those sent were not meant to stay indefinitely, but were rather given sentences to serve, usually between one and three years after which they returned to Sydney to serve the remainder of their original sentence, or if originally free, to try to continue where they left off. 68

The station operated from 1804 until 1821, during which time many thousands of convicts were sent there. Newcastle developed a reputation as a place of harsh punishment, savage and sometimes brutal commandants, all hemmed in by an unforgiving bush, where runaways would starve, wander lost or be ruthlessly hunted down by bands of Aboriginal warriors. Perhaps worst of all, Newcastle meant removal from families, familiar connections, networks and companions and the chance for convicts to live in a community

This article provides more recent work reappraising the sentencing patterns and penal regulations as they relate to Newcastle and the wider effects on NSW and the British Empire. The author was made aware of this article , but it was not publically available for consideration in this thesis due to publication restrictions with the Journal. 67 Eklund, ‘Lost Coal Mines’, pp. 2-3. 68 D. A. Roberts and D. Garland, ‘The Forgotten Commandant: James Wallis and the Newcastle Penal Settlement, 1816-1818’, AHS , Vol. 41 Issue 1, March 2010, 7-8. The ratio of male to female convicts was always high in Newcastle. In 1820 when Commissioner Bigge visited the penal station there were 677 males and 51 females, a ratio of 13:1. See Turner, Newcastle as a convict settlement, pp. 230-231.

95 and work for themselves that Sydney offered. In the narrative of New South Wales’ early history as a convict nightmare place, Newcastle strived to be the perfect model. 69

The place was indeed portrayed as a place of terror. Convicts, already dislocated from their families and companions in the old country, were once more uprooted from whatever normality they may have been able to create for themselves in Sydney to be sent further into the wilderness of Australia’s bush. However these men and women were also the vanguard of settlement in the Hunter Valley and constituted the “frontier”, particularly the cedar and timber gangs and later the first convict farmers established on the river. It was these convicts who had the first prolonged contact with Aboriginal people, got to know the bush and the landscape and were amongst those, who, when given the option, actually chose to stay.

Despite the establishment of the convict station and the proclamation that all coal and cedar were the property of Government, private tenders continued to gain permission to cut logs around Newcastle and further up river in the first year, a practice that appears to have increased tensions between the growing European numbers and the local Aboriginal groups. Although Menzies had worked to establish some form of peaceful co-existence with the local people, private gangs undermined this. In June Menzies reported to

Governor King that “we have always been and still continue on the most friendly terms with numerous Natives here [in Newcastle]” and King duly congratulated him on remaining on such a good footing. Indeed Menzies had travelled up river with the government gangs to inspect the timber and the soil with a view to possibly establishing government farms there. He reported

69 Roberts et al, ’The Forgotten Commandant’, 9. G. Karskens, The Rocks: Life in Early Sydney , Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 1997, p. 166.

96 I do not think, as the Natives of that part frequently pay visits here on

account of the Fishery, that they would be found at all troublesome, and

even if they were, the means to prevent them could be soon be sent from

the settlement. Should your Excellency approve of it, the ground shall be

cleared, which with very little trouble can be done, as it is thinly clad with

trees 70

Although Menzies was confident that any potential trouble could be prevented through the deployment of his military guard, relations with the Aboriginal people were being tested by people beyond Menzies’ control. Despite his strict directions to the crews of all vessels going up the river to treat Aboriginal people encountered in a friendly manner, he was made aware that they had frequently “been very ill used by some who are neither guided by principal or humanity”.71 Menzies’ report to King suggests there had already been a number of incidents up-river, but there were two more that finally ended the operations of private, unaccompanied gangs.

In July a gang of sawyers from the ship George working 70 miles up the river from

Newcastle, near the present site of Maitland, was attacked by a group of natives “who differ much in disposition from those down the river”. Sensationally reported in the Sydney

Gazette , a party of Aboriginal men had approached the crew, who, suspecting they were not entirely friendly, reportedly treated them with “civility and caution”. Without warning, one of the Aboriginal men grabbed for a musket, wrestling with the timber getter for it, as the rest threw their spears at the sawyers, who responded with musketry. One warrior was killed, before the Europeans retreated in their boat to a distance beyond the reach of the spear throwers. The George did nevertheless manage to get over 70 logs of cedar for

70 Menzies to King, HRA , Series I, Vol. V, p. 416. 71 Menzies to King, 1 July 1804, HRA , Series I, Vol V, p. 416.

97 their trouble.72 This was the first report of an Aboriginal group on the Hunter attempting to get a gun, indicating that they understood the power of the weapon. Whether they sought to include one in their own arsenal or were just trying to disarm the sawyers is not known.

This incident was followed in November when a sawyer employed by Messrs Underwood and Kable was severely beaten by a party of Aboriginal men up-river and his musket and other arms were stolen. 73 While the Gazette again reported the incident salaciously as a result of “troublesome natives”, Menzies placed the blame on the sawyers referring to it as a trifling misunderstanding, which he regarded as a matter of course when people act so imprudently. Although he did not elaborate on the matter, he did hint at a disparity in treatment:

it is somewhat strange to remark as often as our boats are up the river that

they never attempted to molest any person belonging to the settlement. 74

It is interesting to note that apparently only strangers were getting into trouble with local

Aboriginal groups at this time, not those belonging to the settlement. It could be that with

Menzies’ directions, and the regular need to venture from the relative safety of the station, the convict gangs had come to an understanding with the local Aboriginal people, enabling them to work unmolested. The convict gangs were overseen and protected by soldiers with guns, so Aboriginal people may have avoided conflict in fear of being shot by the guards or the possibility of large scale reprisals against them later. While both types of gangs were armed, the private gangs were not as heavily defended and maybe presented a more tempting target to Aboriginal warriors. Another possibility is that the relative discipline with which the Newcastle gangs were restrained while working led to less

72 SG 2 July, 1804, p. 3. 73 SG, 18 November, 1804, p. 3. 74 Menzies to King, 28 November 1804 , HRA , Series I, Vol. V, p. 425

98 potential for conflict. The gangs coming from Sydney were working unsupervised and,

Menzies hinted, had been involved in a number of incidents prior to the two attacks. The tussle for the musket in both instances is also of note. No doubt the thought of Aboriginal warriors armed with muskets must have been a concern for Europeans in the tense and unfamiliar atmosphere of the bush. Whatever the reason for the conflict, the result was a ban on private vessels from going up the river to seek timber. In a letter dated November

1804, Governor King told Menzies that in light of the “misunderstandings that happened with the Natives and Underwood’s sawyers”, no sawyers be allowed to fell cedar up the river or its branches. Menzies suggested instead that some trustworthy men be sent up river with the station’s boats to avoid any ill consequences. 75 And so it was that for the next sixteen years, the timber trade in the Hunter Valley was exclusively managed by the colonial authorities.

Cedar logs and sawn planks were first bought into the station, where they were stockpiled, and then forwarded to Sydney on a quarterly basis, or as special orders were made.

Initially the timber gang was relatively small, with just five men in the first gang in 1804.

Despite the small number, this gang managed to cut over 1600 feet (approximately 488m) of timber in three days in June 1804. 76 The timber gangs were the settlement’s frontiersmen, exploring the hinterland, reporting on good land and pastures, and encountering the Aboriginal people most often. Their camps became semi-permanent outposts. Venturing further and further up the rivers in the quest for cedar and other species, the gangs and their military guard were required to stay in the bush for longer and longer periods, with most being out for four to five weeks, but some away from Newcastle

75 King to Menzies, 24 November 1804, Phillip Gidley King Letter books, 1788-1808, ML, MSS 582, CY Reel 3490. 76 Governor King to Lord Hobart, HRA , 14 August 1804, Series I Vol. V, p. 111-115.

99 for up to six months at a time by 1815. 77 The work and the isolation of the bush were among the hardest labours to which convicts were assigned, yet the gangs recorded less runaways then those operating in the town. In 1819, the Commandant of the settlement,

Major James Morisset, explained this as being due to his selecting his most trustworthy convicts for these tasks, a mode he had likely picked up from his predecessors, as the same had been reported in 1810 by then Commandant John Purcell. 78 It could be that work in the bush suited those involved, for, although it offering less in the way of material comforts

(what little the settlement actually offered), it may have been considered preferable to the strict control and surveillance of the convict station.

There was however an increased element of danger working in isolated conditions, with attacks by Aboriginal groups being reported throughout the working life of the station.

When Governor Macquarie toured the district in July 1819, he noted that the cedar gang he visited had an armed “military guard of a Corporal and three privates to protect them from the natives”. It was also considered to be the hardest form of work at the station, especially for those required to cut iron bark and other hardwood trees. 79

The method employed for cutting timber differed depending on the timber required, for it was not only cedar that was sought but also Rosewood ( Dysoxylum fraseranium ),

Honeysuckle ( Banksia serrata ), Grey Iron Bark ( Eucalyptus panriculata ), and Blue Gum

(Eucalyptus saligna ), amongst others.80 Cedar parties venturing upriver were issued rations

77 Thompson to Campbell 24 July 1815, CSC, SRNSW, R6066, 4/1805, p. 191a, SRNSW. 78 Purcell to Campbell, 6 July 1810, CSC, Special bundles-Newcastle, SRNSW, R6066, 4/1804, p22; Turner, Newcastle as a Convict Settlement , p. 59. 79 Lachlan Macquarie: Journal of a Tour to and from Newcastle 27 July 1818-9 August 1818, ML Manuscripts, A781, CY Reel 303, p. 13. Turner, Newcastle as a Convict Settlement , p. 23. 80 Patrick Riley, convict carpenter at Newcastle noted in evidence to Bigge in January 1820 that the timbers being harvested in Hunter Valley were cedar ( cedrela toona ) , rosewood ( Dysoxlun fraseranium ), flooded gum ( Eucalyptus grandis ), iron bark ( Eucalyptus sideroxylon and Eucalyptus panriculata ), spotted gum ( Eucalyptus maculate ), pine (Brush Cypress-Callitris Macleayana ), beefwood ( Stenocarpus salignus ), honeysuckle red ( Banksia serrata ) and white ( Banksia intergrifolia ), tea tree ( Melaleuca quinquenervia ) as well as mangrove used for wheelwork

100 depending on how far they were going from the settlement, sometimes carrying a month’s provisions, as well as iron pots, frying pans and grinding mills, on top of their equipment load. At their camps, they built themselves shelters and small thatched huts to live in.

The gangs were tasked with procuring a quota of logs, with the overseer choosing the trees once they were on site. Different gangs were allocated different types of trees to cut, with gangs of up to thirty men employed cutting iron bark and gum trees and gangs of eighteen men employed in the cutting of cedar. Both parties were expected to retrieve upwards of

100 logs per month, but the difference in the number of workers acknowledged the degree of difficulty in the felling of the hardwood timbers, compared to the cedar. This was further illustrated by the fact that the cedar gangs often finished their allocated monthly total in three weeks. 81 As in Sydney, if the convict gangs finished ahead of schedule, some allowance was made for them to return to Newcastle for extra rations or to work in their own gardens, or even at their own trade. 82 What is not recorded is whether the different types of timber were allocated to different skilled cutters or whether the allocation was a form of punishment or reward. The harder timbers, such as ironbark, may have served as a suitable punishment for transgressions, as they provided a greater struggle to cut and manage than did cedar.

Trees, once felled, were bought to the river edge, where they were then lashed together, fastened with iron staples to form a raft and floated down river towards the Newcastle settlement. The raft would have a small hut erected upon them to shelter the raft crew on their way down. This method of river transport had been utilised since the earliest days of the convict station as the most efficient means of getting the timber to the harbour. The

(Avicennia officinalis ), Stringy Bark ( Eucalyptus scabra ) and Blue gum ( Eucalyptus saligna ). Turner Newcastle as a Convict Settlement , p. 168. 81 Sergeant John Evans, Superintendent of Government Works evidence to Bigge, 18 January 1819, in Turner, Newcastle as a Convict Settlement , p. 91. 82 Turner, Newcastle as a Convict Settlement , Evans Evidence, p. 72.

101 river was central to the timber trade. From Wallis Plains, approximately 30 miles up the river, the rafts, accompanied by two boats to help direct them, took an average of eight days to arrive at the harbour, depending on tide and river flow. However, many of the gangs were operating much further up the river then Wallis Plains, with some cutting more than 100 miles up the river, close to the modern town of Branxton or in the foothills of the

Barrington Ranges north of Maitland. 83 As the closer and easier stands were cut out, the gangs had to move further and further afield for their quarry. This was particularly true for the cedar trees, which grew in isolated stands and as individual trees spaced out in the thick brush along the river or in the rainforest high up the Paterson and Williams Rivers.

As rafts made their way down river, stockpiles of timber grew on the harbour foreshore at

Newcastle. Some of this timber was sawn and dressed in the convict lumber yard there, with the remainder shipped direct to Sydney as logs to be worked later. With three or four hundred logs coming down the river at any one time, there was rarely a shortage of timber for ships to pick up. 84

While the timber gangs were reported as having contact with Aboriginal people, there is little discussion of any of these interactions. In contrast, contact and incidents between

Aboriginal people and runaways from the settlement were regularly reported. From the earliest days of the station, convicts had been taking to the bush to escape. Many of the earliest absconders were attempting to make it back to Sydney or the Hawkesbury settlements. With a general lack of bush skills there were few other options, and the valley itself was largely devoid of Europeans on whom they could rely for to help, or from whom they could steal. Curiously, one of the first runaways was actually heading north from

Sydney, not south. In August 1804 James Field, the lone survivor of three Sydney

83 Purcell to Campbell, 15 December 1810, CSC, Special bundles-Newcastle, SRNSW R6066, 4/1804, p. 49. 84 Purcell to Campbell, 6 July 1810, CSC, Special bundles-Newcastle, SRNSW R6066, 4/1804, p. 22.

102 absconders, came into the station, starved, speared and stripped. His two companions had been reportedly killed by Aboriginal warriors when their boat was wrecked on the coast some 100 miles north of Newcastle. Field had himself been speared and then stripped, before his attackers changed tack and cared for him, feeding him with fish and fern roots.

It is likely his spearing was a form of traditional payback punishment and once done, that was the end of the incident in the eyes of his Aboriginal attackers and his wounds were subsequently tended to. His arrival at Newcastle afforded the commandant Menzies the perfect propaganda opportunity; he paraded Field in front of the assembled prisoners to illustrate what they could expect if they too decided to run. 85

This did not stop them, and absconding was rife throughout the history of the Newcastle settlement. In a period recorded between July 1818 and January 1821, towards the end of the station’s operation, a total of 94 convicts absconded. 86 However most were caught in the bush or returned to Newcastle after capture in Sydney, Broken Bay or the Hawkesbury.

Prior to 1812, when the first few experimental farms were established at Wallis Plains, the only permanent occupiers of the Valley were Aboriginal people, many of whom assisted the authorities in re-capturing runaways. Aboriginal trackers were regularly employed by the colonial authorities from the earliest days of the station to bring in absconders and often accompanied soldiers in pursuit of them. One of the earliest was Bungaree, the interpreter and intermediary on Grant’s original survey in 1801. 87

The reliance on Aboriginal trackers to apprehend and return prisoners inevitably created a dangerous situation for all involved. Convict runaways often resorted to violence to avoid recapture and Aboriginal men used their spears to subdue them. Bungaree’s own father was murdered by three convict runaways captured on their way towards Sydney from

85 King to Hobart, 14 August,1804 HRA Series I, Vol. V, p. 111-15 86 Turner Newcastle as a Convict Settlement , pp. 228-253. 87 SG , 9 October 1804, p. 4.

103 Newcastle late in 1804. It is unclear if this was a response to Bungaree’s assistance in helping capture runaways, or simply an unfortunate coincidence as the runaways moved through Broken Bay. It was reported at the time that Bungaree’s father was “advising” them to return when he was killed. Whatever the reason, there was not enough evidence to convict the three men, who were subsequently recaptured and returned to Newcastle. 88

Bungaree himself was a regular visitor to the station at this time. In June 1804 he had escorted six Aboriginal men back to Newcastle from Sydney on board the Resource .

Governor King thought that the men had gone to Sydney soon after the Newcastle station was founded to examine the growing town. Menzies, who considered Bungaree a peacemaker and go-between, was so pleased with his conduct generally that he put him on the stores, commenting he was “the most intelligent of that race I have as yet seen and should a misunderstanding unfortunately take place he will be sure to reconcile them”.89

Away from the settlement things were less co-operative. While the risk of spearing was a real possibility in the minds of escaping convicts, it is difficult to know how big a risk it was.

The Colonial Secretary’s correspondence details a variety of cases involving convicts being returned after capture by Aboriginal warriors or returning themselves after suffering a spear attack. However, taken as a whole, the reported incidents appear to be occurring only a few times a year. 90 The threat of a violent death in the wilderness is more likely to have been propagated by authorities, as shown by the case of James Field, than the reality of the situation. Many more runaways were picked up around Broken Bay or the

Hawkesbury, or returned themselves, hungry and exhausted. That is not to say that spearing’s did not occur. Charles McMahon and Thomas Cowan, runaways picked up at

Broken Bay in 1807 had both been speared. Roger Farrell, sent to Newcastle where he had

88 Menzies to King, HRA Series I, Vol. V, 30 April 1805, p. 420. 89 Menzies to King 1 July 1804, HRA , Series I, Vol. V, pp. 412-17. 90 CSC Special Bundles – Newcastle, SRNSW. For the years surviving, 1810-1825, there were only six confirmed reports of Aboriginal men spearing runaway convicts from Newcastle.

104 been the Chief overseer, until stripped of the position and accused of being “one of Bligh’s mob”, witnessed a companion killed by Aboriginal spears in 1810. Herbert Stiles and Ed

Edwards were returned from an escape attempt stripped and beaten in 1813. Five men,

Jack Coleman, Thomas Keernan, John Law, Isaac Walker and a man named George were all speared between August 20 and 23, 1816 while on the run. George Little was speared by a group of five Aboriginal men with whom he had camped the night, and John McDonald had been speared to death while looking after a Government tobacco crop in 1820. 91 As a good many were not heard from again after running, more may have been speared in the bush than was recorded officially.

Christine Bramble has argued that the use of Aboriginal trackers by the authorities in

Newcastle to bring in absconders was one factor that led to a growing resentment amongst the convicts towards the Aboriginal population, a resentment that remained a feature of convict attitudes towards Aboriginal people even after the closure of the Newcastle station.92 Furthermore, convict violence towards Aboriginal people in and around

Newcastle during the years of the penal station and in its immediate aftermath resulted in an atmosphere of mutual hostility, with Aboriginal people equally mistrusting and weary of convicts. 93

However, as Bramble acknowledges, it is simplistic to attribute all later violence on a residual resentment left over from the penal station. As discussed in more detail in

Chapter 5, attacks and violence across the Hunter in the years after the end of the penal station, while a tragic feature of life in the region on both sides, were nonetheless sporadic.

91 SG, 8 March 1807 p. 2; CSC Special Bundles-Newcastle, SRNSW, Reel 6066 4/1804 p. 6a; 4/1805 p. 135; 4/1806 p. 44; 4/1806 p. 76; Reel 6054 4/1758 p. 145. 92 Christine Bramble, ‘Relations between Aborigines and White Settlers in Newcastle and the Hunter District, with Special reference to the Influence of the Penal Settlement’, Thesis, Bachelor of Letters in History, University of New England, 1981, pp. 26-27. 93 Bramble, ‘Relations between Aborigines and White Settlers..’, p. 65.

105 Aboriginal attacks were most often targeted as a reprisal for specific European aggression or offences–which is why the specificities of time and place matter for the analysis. While the Hunter had a large convict population, with thousands employed on the farms and estates, few of these people had experienced the Newcastle penal station. Aboriginal men continued to be employed as trackers after the end of the penal station, and, while some convict class memory regarding earlier trackers may have persisted, it is more likely that their ongoing use influenced attitudes towards the Aboriginal population amongst the convicts in the broader Hunter Valley. However, the resentment may have spread to other districts as convicts left Newcastle. In his work on , Nicholas Clements has discovered at least one case where a convict claimed he murdered Aboriginal people because he had earlier caught by trackers in New South Wales.94

What determined the likelihood of a being speared? Was it simply the luck of the draw depending who you came across in the bush? Was it payback in response to convict crimes or aggression, either committed by those speared or as retribution for someone else’s transgression? Or was it tied to place, warnings to stay away from sacred spaces or camps or women or food sources? Without details on where various incidents occurred, these questions are difficult to answer. If most runaways were heading south, and if they stayed inland from the coast, this would have taken them along the western shore of Lake

Macquarie and possibly into the foothills surrounding it. Mount Sugarloaf, one of the major peaks, was and remains a sacred area for Aboriginal people. Threlkeld recorded stories of the area including one of a demon that lived in the bush around Sugar Loaf

Mountain, named Puttikan , a tall male creature, covered in hair, which killed uninitiated men who strayed into the forest. 95 In some cases, Aboriginal men may have been

94 N. Clements, The Black War: Fear, Sex and Resistance in Tasmania, University of Queensland Press, Brisbane, 2014, p. 71. 95 Gunson, Australian Reminiscences , p. 61.

106 protecting their own sacred sites and beliefs by attacking straying convict runaways who came too close to Puttikan’s range; using the attacks to convince the younger warriors and uninitiated of Puttikan’s reach

Convicts were not the only targets of Aboriginal violence. A series of incidents involving soldiers and sailors also occurred, as did attacks carried out by convict men and Aboriginal warriors working together. One example was an attack on the soldier Peter Connachton and the convict George Little. Connachton and Little were hunting kangaroo in the vicinity of Sugar Loaf, where they were joined by two Aboriginal men, Babalou and Obeio. The following day the party was joined by several more Aboriginal men. On the third day out,

Connachton and Little turned for home and were accompanied by six men, Babalou, Obeio,

Gorman, Young Crudgie, David Lowe and Tanirairo, back to Sugar Loaf. Little reported later that they were suspicious of the Aboriginal men’s intentions, although he did not give any reasons for this. On the last night the two men stayed awake, until in the morning they roused their Aboriginal companions early to continue and to get their assistance in carrying the kangaroo. 96 Little said that Connachton invited the Aboriginal men to warm themselves before they headed off, and so gave his jacket to Gorman, while Little gave his jacket to

Babalou. In a sudden movement, Obeio, Gorman, Young Crudgie, David Lowe and Tanirairo threw their spears wounding Little in the left arm and chest and Connachton in the left breast. Connachton was able to fire his musket before falling “lifeless to the ground”. The

Aboriginal men then took the jackets and the kangaroo and left. 97

A number of questions arise from this account. The two Europeans appear to have spent at least three days in the bush with the Aboriginal men, including camping overnight. Why, if

96 The names Gorman and David Lowe would appear to be English names taken by or bestowed upon these Aboriginal men. As they are known in the settlement it is likely the names derive from a Newcastle based European, however who that was is not known at this time. 97 Deposition of Convict George Little 13 May 1817, CSC Special Bundles Newcastle, SRNSW, Reel 6066, 4/1806, p. 76.

107 they were suspicious of their motives did they not part company earlier or slip away as the others slept around the fire? How did Connachton have time to discharge his musket if the attack was such a surprise and presumably at such close range and why did the warriors not finish Little off as well? In 1799 on the Hawkesbury, two settlers had been killed in similar circumstances, having spent the day hunting and the night camping with Aboriginal men they knew, before they were speared by them. In later evidence it was discovered one of the Europeans had forcibly taken the daughter of one of his attackers. 98 It is possible this may also have been the case with Connachton and Little.

Three of the Aboriginal men were later captured, although there is no record of their fate.

Gorman, Obeio and David Lowe were brought into the settlement by an old man, whose own family– a wife and five children – had been taken hostage by the Commandant James

Wallis. Wallis released them but kept the three men, a woman, a child and a little boy he had locked up in his protection. Taking hostages suggests Wallis did not expect to find the men through any standard measures. Connachton was not the only soldier attacked in the

Newcastle area, but they were not regular events. 99

Despite the taking of hostages, Wallis was reported to have had a good relationship with local Aboriginal people. He painted portraits of at least fifteen men in three groups of five, naming five of them. 100 One of the men, Burigon (Jack), was Wallis’ companion and had joined him on hunting and fishing expeditions around the settlement. He had also

98 Karskens, The Colony , p. 470. 99 George Little served his sentence at Newcastle until 1822, when he returned to Sydney and received a conditional pardon. In the 1828 Census he was listed as a printer living in Gloucester Street, Sydney. 100 James Wallis, Album of original drawings ca1817-1818, ML PXE 1070. The men named are Burigon (Jack), Nerang Doll, Trimmer, Walker and Nerang Wogee.

108 entertained Governor Macquarie with approximately forty others with a corroboree, at

Wallis’ request, in 1818. 101 Wallis wrote of Burigon fondly in his journal, saying:

There are scenes in all our lives to which we turn back to with pleasurable,

tho perhaps, with a tinge of melancholy feelings and I now remember poor

Jack (Burigon) the black savage ministering to my pleasures, fishing,

kangaroo hunting, guiding me thro trackless forests with more kindly

feelings that I do many of my own colour, kindred and nation… 102

Burigon was killed in October 1820 by runaway John Kirby, whom Burigon had captured.

Kirby and another man, John Thompson, had been held by Burigon and his family overnight. As Burigon was returning them to the settlement, Kirby, seeing a party of soldiers approaching, pulled a knife and stabbed him. Burigon died from his wounds the following week with Kirby charged, tried and executed for the murder. 103 In the same month, another convict was sentenced to 50 lashes for “inhumanely treating and wounding” an Aboriginal man and intimidating him after he had assisted in bringing a bushranger. 104

101 Lachlan Macquarie: Journal of a Tour to and from Newcastle 27 July 1818-9 August 1818, 6 August, ML Manuscripts, A781, CY Reel 303 102 James Wallis, Album, ML PXE 1072. 103 Court of Criminal Jurisdiction, Case Papers November-December 1820 Part II, SRNSW SZ792 COD452B. 104 CSC, SRNSW, R6067, 4/1807 pp133-135; R6023, 4/1718, p. 115.

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Figure 8 : Five Aboriginal men as painted by James Wallis, c1817. A recently re -discovered album of watercolours by Commandant James Wallis includes a number of paintings of Aboriginal people around Newcastle that he knew. His friend Burigon is shown on the left. In the background Aboriginal fishers are shown in their canoes. (Source: SLNSW PXE 1072)

Conflict between Europeans and Aboriginal people was confined to the occasional runaway and the odd daring attack on soldiers. This limited hostility was likely due to the relatively small footprint the Europeans had made on the Hunter Valley in the first decade. The settlement was restricted to the immediate harbour entrance, with scattered parties in the bush and up river procuring timber. From 1812 however the boundary began to spread as the first farms were established at Paterson’s Plains. These were experimental, given out to four well behaved convicts under the orders of Governor Macquarie. The benefit of the farms were twofold: first they provided some incentive to well behaved convicts to gain a foothold in the colony, as shown in the case of John Swan, who was still in the district in

110 1828 with a wife Margaret and three children. And second, the farms provided food to boost the rations of the penal station, most of which had to come from Sydney or the

Hawkesbury. 105 By 1814 there were at least five farms and by 1818 when Governor

Macquarie visited a second time (he had inspected the station in 1812) there were eight on the land, six convicts and two free settlers. 106 Initially, the farms were not granted but rather provided as an allowance to use the land and could be taken back if the convicts harboured runaways or broke the law. Some however were later formalised as small grants.

The farmers faced constant challenges. One of these was the river and its many moods.

The river was a dangerous place where sudden freshes could raise its level rapidly, or hidden snags could upturn a boat. For convicts who could not swim or who were not strong swimmers, either of these events could be fatal. In July 1815 George Pell, one of

Macquarie’s well behaved convict farmers, along with Daniel Brown, William Gudgeon and

Katherine Flynn were all drowned when their boat upturned as they were returning to the farms from Newcastle. Two of the bodies were not recovered. In 1821 another five drowned on the river when their boat was capsized in a storm. This time two convict workers, Thomas Trainer and Jeremiah O’Neil, two settler’s wives, Mrs Allen and Mrs Swan, and an infant were the victims.

Living in proximity to the river also brought with it the threat of floods. From the earliest

European survey, evidence of floods and flooding had been noted. James Grant had seen debris in cedar trees 40 to 50 feet (12-15m) above the river in 1803. In 1809 William

Blaxland reported a large fresh at the mouth of the river extending some distance to sea

105 M. Sainty and K. A. Johnson, Census of New South Wales November 1828 , Facsimile Edition Library of Australian History, Sydney, 1980 p. 360 106 Lachlan Macquarie, Journal of a Tour to and from Newcastle 27 July 1818-9 August 1818, ML Manuscripts, A781, CY Reel 303.

111 and he went up river to check on any inundation. 107 Flood damage was first recorded in

1811 when a great flood up river took a large quantity of cedar logs away, carrying them in all directions. The first farm went under in 1819 when a settler, Thomas Boardman lost his whole crop and the whole of Wallis Plains was under water. 108

The farms were initially managed more as appendages to the penal station rather than an independent settlement area. Convict farmers were still under the control and management of the station commandant and liable to punishment for any misdemeanour or transgression, including the loss of assigned labour, confiscation of crops, a return to the work gangs or even loss of the farm property altogether. 109 Still, the presence of farms gave runaways a target to plunder or a safe place to hide. In 1816 the settler Benjamin

Davis, who was allowed a farm site by 1814, was suspected of harbouring George Stone and Samuel Brooks, who had been living in the bush nine months when apprehended in

April 1816. Stone and Brooks had been supplying Davis with kangaroo skins in return for corn, iron pots, arms and other conveniences. Davis was recommended to be returned to

Government service to discourage other settlers from helping runaways. 110

Davis no doubt knew that there was money to be made out of kangaroos in this period, as the settlement, short on beef and pork, had turned to kangaroo as an alternative food source. Commandant Thomas Thompson informed the governor in November 1815 that it was impossible to procure kangaroos as there were not enough dogs to hunt them, and besides, kangaroos were to be found so far from the settlement, they were putrid before

107 CSC, Special Bundles Newcastle, SRNSW, 3 April 1816, Reel 6040, ML1/51, p. 185. 108 CSC, Special Bundles Newcastle, SRNSW, 19 March 1819, Reel 6067, 4/1807, p. 14. 109 Roberts and Garland, ‘The Forgotten Commandant’,20. 110 CSC, Special Bundles Newcastle, SRNSW, 3 April 1816, Reel 6066, 4/1806, p. 19. Davis appears to have recovered his farm as he is listed in the 1825 Muster as having a Conditional Pardon, married with three convicts assigned to him and in the 1828 Census as having 320 acres, 4 horse and 25 sheep on a property at Wallis Plains. Sainty, Census of New South Wales 1828 , pp. 117 and 427.

112 they could be bought in. 111 Dogs were crucial to the hunt: they chased them, exhausted them, cornered them and brought them down. As such, dogs were a prized animal in the settlement, especially for those convicts wanting to escape and live in the bush. From 1816 onwards, increasing numbers of runaways were staying in the area and living off the land, stealing where they could; hunting dogs were an essential part of this lifestyle.

As James Boyce has pointed out in Van Diemen’s Land , hunting dogs allowed bushrangers to stay in the bush hunting their own food as well as provided illicit meat to sympathetic settlers to on-sell. Similarly the convicts in Newcastle were also using dogs in their escapes to help them hunt and increase their chances of survival in the bush. The problem was widespread enough that in 1815-1816 in Van Diemen’s Land Lieutenant Governor Davis had ordered kangaroo hunting dogs to be destroyed. 112 So too in Newcastle, the

Commandant James Morisset ordered the kangaroo hunting dogs to be destroyed in 1818-

1819. The killing of the dogs had the desired effect, with escapes subsequently dropping off. 113

Both bushrangers and farms began to erode the illusion of isolation that the penal settlement had fostered as part of its harsh reputation. As shown, the isolation was more in the mind than reality. Aboriginal people moved back and forth from Newcastle to

Sydney, as did the more determined runaways. By 1818 Governor Macquarie, recognising this fact and the benefits of using the fertile land to settle increasing numbers of free emigrants, had begun scouting for a new site for an isolated penal station, eventually settling on a site on the further north at what is now Port Macquarie.

111 CSC, Special Bundles Newcastle, SRNSW, 15 November 1815, Reel 6066, 4/1805, p. 207. 112 Boyce, Van Diemen’s Land , p. 75. 113 Turner, Newcastle as a Convict Settlement , pp. 75 and 95.

113 In March 1820, John Howe, the chief constable at Windsor, arrived at Wallis Plains, having led the first successful overland European expedition from the Hawkesbury. 114 On his return, Howe blazed the trees to mark his way back and by July runaway convicts were following Howe’s road out of the Valley. Howe was followed in September 1821 by

Reverend G. A. Middleton, who had arrived overland straight into Newcastle. Middleton had also blazed the trees to allow his cattle and men to follow him. Like Howe’s road, escaping convicts found the Parson’s Road, as it became known, very useful, and by

December twelve prisoners had escaped along that path. 115

With two clearly marked paths through the bush, the usefulness of the penal station as an isolated place of terror was effectively over. The Valley was now more useful for its rich, fertile soil, grassy plains and fresh water and so the convict station was marked for closure on the establishment of a new, more isolated penal outpost. In September 1820, John

Howe was the first free settler to receive a permit to graze stock on St Patricks Plains, now

Singleton, close to the place where he had first come out of the mountains twelve months earlier.

The years of the penal station laid the foundations for European expansion in the Hunter, precipitating the profound impacts on the environment and the invasion of Aboriginal country. The resentment, fear and violence that had been a feature of convict and

Aboriginal relations during the penal station era were to increase rapidly through the 1820s and 1830s. The exploitation of the natural resources, especially the cedar and other timbers, which had underpinned the convict economy of Newcastle, continued to be a driving force in the years following its closure.

114 Howe to Macquarie, 17 November 1819, CSC, SRNSW, Reel 6048, 4/1743, pp. 120-25. 115 CSC, Special Bundles Newcastle, SRNSW, 18 December 1821, R6067; 4/1807, p. 253.

114

115 Chapter 3

As fine a country as imagination can form – European overland expeditions, 1817-1820 John Howe is credited with being the European explorer who discovered the overland route from the Hawkesbury to the Hunter Valley. On two expeditions, in 1819 and again in

1820, he made his way north-northwest from Windsor, eventually breaking through the mountain barriers into open country with a fresh water river, of which he claimed to be the discoverer. His success however was built on the efforts of at least three earlier attempts and his strategic use of experienced and local Aboriginal guides. Prior to Howe, known efforts to cross the mountains to the north west of Windsor had been attempted by

William Parr in 1817 and Benjamin Singleton in 1817 and in 1818. There were almost certainly other unrecorded local attempts to explore the ridges and valleys out of Windsor and the Hawkesbury settlements. These expeditions were part of a wider expansion out of the Cumberland Plain, in search of new pastures for sheep and cattle. Many were encouraged by the success of the 1813 expedition of , William Lawson and

William Wentworth west over the Blue Mountains and the establishment of grazing runs on the Bathurst plains. Parr, Singleton and Howe were all looking for another route to these grasslands when each set out from Windsor.

The First attempts: Benjamin Singleton and William Parr The first European acknowledged to have made a concerted effort to explore the mountains north of the Hawkesbury was Benjamin Singleton. Singleton arrived in the colony as a child in 1792, the son of the convict William Singleton and his wife Hannah. By

1797, the family had settled at Mulgrave Place on the Hawkesbury on a grant of 90 acres

(37ha), and constructed a series of watermills at Kurrajong, Lower Portland Head and on

116 the Hawkesbury for grinding government and settlers’ grain. 1 Benjamin Singleton had made the first attempt to explore a route through the northern mountains in or around

September 1817. Although no written record of the journey has been located, a rough route of the journey was marked on a map compiled by William Parr in late 1817. It also showed the route of Surveyor ’s 1817 expedition west of the Blue Mountains to explore the . 2

In October 1817, Singleton was followed by Parr, a ticket-of-leave convict who had arrived on board the Fortune in 1813, sentenced to 14 years for forgery. Parr accompanied Oxley’s

1817 expedition as a mineral surveyor. Unlike Singleton’s first expedition, Parr kept a journal of his attempt, detailing the route, the landscape and his encounters with

Aboriginal people. Parr’s aim was to discover a new road over the mountains to Bathurst and locate good grass and pasture on the way. Travelling between 30 October and 29

November, Parr explored past Putty to the headwaters of the Macdonald River on the southern side of the ranges that front the Hunter Valley, but failed to make any headway out of the rugged valleys that dominate this area. 3

Parr’s failure has been ascribed to a number of factors, including storms and heavy rain at the start of the journey, his encounters with a series of fires, and, consequently, running short of food. He had set out with five weeks provisions for five people and two horses but the difficulties he encountered meant he had to turn back earlier than planned. In his first days out from Windsor, Parr recorded a series of storms during which no progress was made. These were followed by a number of grass fires on the ridges, culminating in much

1 N. Gray, ‘Singleton, Benjamin (1788-1853)’, Australian Dictionary of Biography, National Centre of Biography, Australian National University, http://adb.anu.edu.au/biography/singleton-benjamin- 2667/text3717 viewed 19 March 2013. 2 A. Macqueen, Somewhat Perilous: The Journeys of Singleton, Parr, Howe, Myles & Blaxland in the Northern Blue Mountains, Andy Macqueen, Wentworth Falls, 2004, p. 24. 3 William Parr, ’Journal and Station Book of a trip to the westward (Hawkesbury Valley)’, Logs, Diaries and Journals of Exploration, CSC, SRNSW Special Bundles, Fiche 3271 2/3623 pp. 1-51.

117 larger bushfires. The fires were the most serious impediment to the party, for in places they made it impossible to pass, and trapped his party in a valley near the Macdonald River where they finally turned back towards Windsor.

Parr encountered a combination of deliberately lit fires and large natural fires, with thick smoke haze in the days before he began to see flames. At first he noted small grass fires on the flats and hills, and then a stretch of country that appeared to have been burnt two months previous “so that the face of the Country is like Land covered with fine young wheat”, suggesting grass seeds had sprouted providing grazing land for kangaroos. 4

Heading further north, Parr saw nine individual fires in the distance, which, fanned by hot westerly winds, came together. His passage into the ravines and river valleys north of Putty was soon cut off as the fires spread along the ridge lines. On the 22 November, he wrote:

This morng [sic] I tried if it were possible to effect a passage over the Hills

which had been burnt the preceding Night but the danger was too great.

Standing Trees were on fire in every direction, & at short intervals either a

Burning Limb fell, or a tree, so that the ground was literally covered with

fire… 5

Although Parr made reference to his belief that local Aboriginal groups had lit the fire he saw no Aboriginal people until he was two and a half weeks into his expedition. While the grass fires he saw were likely the result of Aboriginal burning, the extent and intensity of the larger fires suggest that it was the result of lightning strikes from the storms he had previously noted. 6 The nature of the fire Parr encountered, burning as it did for successive days and reaching into the tree tops, does not reflect a controlled burn as would be

4 Parr, ’Journal and Station Book’, Wednesday 12 November, p. 30. 5 Parr, ’Journal and Station Book’, Friday 21 November, p. 42 6 Macqueen, Somewhat Perilous , pp. 71-77. Macqueen, a local historian and bushwalker has mapped the extent of the Parr fire from Parr’s journal, showing it to be a much larger fire then what would be expected by a controlled burn by Aboriginal hunters.

118 expected if lit by Aboriginal firesticks. Bill Gammage argues that while many Aboriginal fires were lit in the hotter months, as is the case with Parr, they rarely burnt into the night, as this represented a loss of control. Aboriginal fires were also often lit prior to rain, to allow for the newly burnt ground to be watered and restocked with young grass for grazing herds of kangaroo. 7 Parr had noted the fresh new grass that looked like young wheat, indicating the regrowth after a firestick burn, but that the larger fires were after the rain and storms of his first nights out.

A bigger factor in Parr’s difficulties may be that his expedition lacked an Aboriginal guide.

The party consisted of himself, Benjamin Singleton, a convict Robert Frances and two other unnamed convicts, one assigned to Parr and one to Singleton. As Singleton had been into this area before, he may have acted as the guide, but was only effective over the ground he had already covered. Even if this were the case, Singleton left the party on November 16, returning to Windsor with one of the two packhorses, the convict servant Robert Frances, and it was later discovered, the better part of the rations, leaving Parr and the remaining party short of food. Parr’s journal recorded that Singleton was either unable or unwilling to continue, but no further explanation is recorded. 8 The expedition lasted just one more week after Singleton left.

Although he failed to find another route between Windsor and Bathurst, Parr’s expedition nevertheless added to the knowledge of the country to the north of Windsor. His journal presents a well-documented and surveyed path north from Windsor, with reference to good pastoral land for the evolving colony.

7 Gammage, The Biggest Estate , pp. 169-170. 8 Parr, ’Journal and Station Book’, Friday 14 November, p. 32.

119

Figure 9 : The view at the end of Parr’s attempt across the Broken Back Ranges. Mt Yengo is on the right of the sketch. Parr included this sketch in his journal showing the rugged terrain he was trying to negotiate. Without an Aboriginal guide the task was nearly impossible. (Source: SRNSW Fiche 3271)

In April 1818, Benjamin Singleton set off again, heading north with the intention, like Parr, of finding a path to Bathurst. Any track out to Bathurst would be an alternative to the

Western Road blazed through by William Cox, following the route of Blaxland, Lawson and

Wentworth made in 1813. When Singleton set out, settlers were just beginning to head west over the mountains, and he may have been anticipating a potentially lucrative trade route or reward for discovering a second road. 9 He may equally have been seeking a new route to avoid the strictly controlled road west, with its guards, tolls and required travel permits. With knowledge of the country from his two previous attempts and the country recovering from the fires reported by Parr, Singleton reached the Putty area in just four days, compared to Parr’s thirteen days. Unlike Parr, Singleton’s party also included an

Aboriginal guide who may have known a more direct or easier route. Singleton’s guide is

9 Perry, Australia’s First Frontier , p. 83.

120 not mentioned by name and his role is only hinted at in his journal, which lacks detail on the distance travelled or specific route taken. 10 However the guide may not have been overly familiar with the area beyond Putty either, as the party struggled to find water after

Putty and were hampered by thick brush that they had trouble passing through.

On the night of 5 May Singleton’s camp was attacked by a party of Aboriginal men.

Singleton recorded that:

about 8 o’clock Disturbed by the Voices of Natives Cracking of Sticks and

Rolling big rocks, stones down towards us every man of us arose and fled

from the fire secreting ourselves behind trees with our guns and

ammunition where we could have a view of the fire Doubting if we staid by

the fire every Man was lost spent the Whole of the Night in that Condition

Raining very Hard the Native whom we had with us was timid than any of

us saying he was sure we should be killed 11

Although an attack seemed imminent, none came. The following morning as the party set off they encountered a group of more than two hundred Aboriginal men, clothed in skins and armed with spears. One man, whom Singleton identified as Mawby, spoke some

English and claimed the rest had never seen a European man before. Through his

Aboriginal guide, Singleton encouraged Mawby and four others to come forward and he asked them if his party could advance westward, but was told it was impossible due to rocky country and there being no water. 12

With communications opened, the conversation went both ways as Mawby enquired after

Singleton’s purpose and where he was heading. Singleton responded via his guide that

10 Benjamin Singleton, Journal, CSC, SRNSW, Reel 6047, 4/1740 pp. 209-214. 11 Singleton, Journal, Tuesday 5 May, 1818, p. 212. 12 Singleton, Journal, Wednesday 6 May, 1818, p. 212.

121 they were trying to get to Bathurst or find good grazing land. Mawby said that good grass land was to be found two days to the northeast, besides a wide river that they could not swim across, nor could they drink the water, and that this river flowed in both directions.

Singleton took this to indicate a wide, tidal river, perhaps he thought it was the one that ran into Port Stephens. Yet this was as far as the expedition would get, for despite now having directions to good land, the unexpected encounter with such a large body of men had unnerved the party, especially their own Aboriginal guide. Singleton wrote that they decided not to proceed, fearing that the 200 would follow and “betray” them for their provisions and on account of there being only five in their party. He noted that their guide

“was more in dread” than themselves. So they turned back for Windsor, arriving without further incident on May 14.13

It is not difficult to understand Singleton’s decision to turn back at this point. He was low on water, effectively lost and confronted by a large group of Aboriginal men armed with spears. However the exact nature of the encounter is now difficult to fully interpret. On the night of the stone-rolling attack on the camp, they were camped at the base of the largest mountain he had yet seen, Mount Monundilla in the Hunter Range, a mountain that includes rock art and shelter sites. 14 These sites may explain the large group of men in the area, and their rock attack may have been a warning to the party to stay away. Singleton’s description of the men wearing skins, rather than having their bodies daubed in ochre or paint, suggests they were not heading to ceremony or combat and so may have been hunting or moving through the country. 15 Indeed, Mawby’s English skills indicate previous, prolonged contact with Europeans, or at least long enough to pick up the language.

Coupled with his description of the tidal river, which was almost certainly the Hunter, it

13 Singleton, Journal, Wednesday 6 May, 1818, p. 212. 14 Rock paintings in the Upper Hunter, http://www.workingwithatsi.info/content/rockpaintings1.htm viewed 18/3/2013, Macqueen, Somewhat Perilous, p. 87. 15 Attenbrow, Sydney’s Aboriginal Past , p. 110.

122 appears that Mawby had previously been in contact with the penal station at Newcastle or the outlying camps around Wallis Plains. This demonstrates the pre-existing connections and pathways known to Aboriginal people into and out of the Hunter that were there long before Europeans began to search for them. Singleton’s Aboriginal guide, although able to help as an intermediary and with translating the conversation, does not appear to have been familiar with this part of the country or if so, his directions were not being considered.

Already the party had run into thick brush and had struggled to find water. However, the guide does appear to have realised that they had wandered into a scared or forbidden area and his increasing nervousness hints at the potential danger of the situation.

European expeditions into the country north of Windsor were driven by the desire to find new pasture for livestock. As Parr and Singleton both expressed, most believed that any such land would lie towards Bathurst and so they sought an alternative route through the mountains to the infant outpost there. Although there was still plenty of land available on the Cumberland Plain, the stock carrying capacity of the land after more than 30 years of grazing had been severely compromised. The main grass type on the Cumberland Plain was known as oat or kangaroo grass ( Themeda australis ). This grass responded poorly to overgrazing by not reseeding and by 1819-1820 was being replaced with coarser, less palatable grasses. 16 Further pressure on the pastures came in the form of a return to drought conditions in the summer of 1818-19 (there had been severe droughts in the period 1810-13), followed by flooding along the Hawkesbury in February 1819 and a plague of caterpillars in the winter. These three environmental factors combined had previously been instrumental in the search for grazing land over the Blue Mountains as well as in the

16 Perry, Australia’s First Frontier , p. 28.

123 districts to the southwest and the . 17 In these conditions, John Howe of Windsor set out northward to try to get through the mountain barrier in October 1819.

John Howe and his guide Myles Howe was a free settler, arriving in NSW in 1802 and receiving a grant of 100 acres at

Mulgrave Place on the Hawkesbury, where he worked his farm until 1809. In 1804 he was wounded by a spear in an Aboriginal raid on his property near Portland Head, one of a series of Aboriginal raids on farmers along the Hawkesbury. 18 In 1809, Howe became secretary to Andrew Thompson, the local constable and one of the richest settlers in the colony who was running two of Governor Bligh’s farms on the Hawkesbury as model farms.

On Thompson’s death in October 1810, Howe, as a licensed auctioneer, administered the liquidation of his assets. In 1812, he was appointed Chief Constable at Windsor and from

1813 he and his partner James McGrath won a number of civil construction contracts including: the building of the new road from Sydney to Windsor via , the toll bridge over South Creek, and the enlargement of the wharf at Windsor. From 1811 Howe was also grazing cattle at Kurrajong, where he had been granted 600 acres, and at

Richmond Hill, providing beef to the Sydney markets. His interest in the beef market played a role in his decision to set out on his exploratory journey. 19

Like both Parr and Singleton before him, Howe made his way towards Putty, taking just four days to get there. His party consisted of eight men, including his son-in-law George

Loder, and John Milward, both of whom were free men; convicts John Eggleton, Charles

Berry and Nicholas Connelly; and two Aboriginal men, Myles and at least one other

17 Perry, Australia’s First Frontier , p. 31. 18 SG , 3 June 1804. 19 N. Gray, ‘Howe, John (1774-1852)’, Australian Dictionary of Biography , National Centre of Biography, Australian National University, http://adb.anu.edu.au/biography/howe-john- 2205/text2855 , viewed 25 March 2013.

124 unnamed man, who left the party after two days. 20 He also had two horses and provisions for three weeks.

As chief constable at Windsor, Howe would have known his Aboriginal guide Myles as a leader of men and a warrior. In July 1816, William Cox, the magistrate at Hawkesbury River wrote a memorandum to Governor Macquarie outlining recent violence between

Aborigines and settlers and recommended a series of actions to protect the settlement. In addition, Cox named eight Aboriginal men whom he considered dangerous – four of them notorious. At the top of this list of four was a man named Miles (sic). Howe was also named in this report as one of the constables involved in escorting “friendly natives” back to Sydney at the end of the military reprisals in November 1816. 21

Acting on Cox’s recommendations, Governor Macquarie made it known that, following the attacks along the Hawkesbury and Nepean Rivers, and despite the offer of clemency to those Aboriginal men who would surrender, ten leaders were still urging their followers to commit attacks. The ten were described as being “far more determinedly hostile and mischievous, who by taking the lead have lately instigated their deluded followers to commit several further atrocious acts of barbarity on the unoffending and unprotected settlers and their families”. These men were therefore to be apprehended by anyone who came across them, or if this was to prove too difficult, citizens of the colony, be they “free men, prisoners of the crown or friendly natives” were at liberty to kill the men using such means as was in their power. Myles was identified as one of these ten men. 22

The proclamation by Macquarie was the last major act in a long running war between

Aboriginal and European occupiers of the western Sydney districts. Since 1796 violence

20 John Howe to Governor Macquarie, 17 November 1819, CSC, SRNSW, Reel 6048 4/1743 p. 125. 21 William Cox to Governor Macquarie, 19 July 1816, Documents relating to Australian Aborigines 1816-1853, William Dixon Collection, ML, DLADD 81, pp. 187— 196. 22 SG , 27 July 1816, p. 1.

125 had been a common factor in the spread of European farms along the Hawkesbury-Nepean

Rivers and across the Cumberland Plain. Attacks and counter-attacks, paybacks and revenge killings flared up and died down intermittently and in different areas. The close and tight-knit nature of the settlement often meant that the Aboriginal warriors were known by the Europeans and the European perpetrators were equally well known amongst the Aborigines. It was a war between neighbours. 23

The use of the military by successive Governors, while resulting in numerous deaths, had failed to bring any resolution to the ongoing violence. Macquarie’s proclamation was a reversion to earlier tactics instigated by Governor King, effectively banishing Aboriginal people from the settlements. Men with spears or groups of Aboriginal people of six or more were forbidden from approaching European farms or settled areas. This was essentially a ban on all people, as all men carried spears and family groups of Aboriginal people frequently numbered more than six people. 24 The tactics appeared to be effective, for in November a second proclamation lifted the warrant on those who survived amongst the ten listed in July. Several had been killed or captured, and it was hoped that the example made had convinced the survivors of the futility of their ongoing campaign. The survivors were encouraged to give themselves up before the 28 th December, when a

“General Meeting of Friendly Natives” was to be held in Parramatta. If they did so they would be forgiven, pardoned and taken under the protection of the Government. 25

Myles’ inclusion in Howe’s party three years later identifies him as one of the survivors and suggests he was reconciled with and had been accepted by the Europeans. Presumably he had come into the settlements sometime after Macquarie’s proclamation and his bush skills, so feared during the attacks in 1815-16, were now recognised as being a necessary

23 Karskens, The Colony , pp. 448-516. 24 Karskens, The Colony , p. 514. 25 SG , 2 November 1816, p. 1.

126 and valuable contribution to the expansion into new country. Whatever anxiety remained among the Europeans about travelling into the uncharted bush with an identified resistance leader or, indeed any nervousness Myles himself felt about going with men who put his name on a death list, was seemingly put aside.

Henry Reynolds identified two types of guides most commonly employed by Europeans: professional guides and occasional or local guides. Professional guides were those men like

Myles, or Bungaree in his early role with Lieutenant Grant, who lived close to or in the

European settlements and travelled with exploratory parties for the entire expedition.

These guides possessed expertise which combined traditional knowledge with an understanding of European culture and language. They had vital bushcraft skills such as tracking, hunting and path finding, while also being able to act as interpreters, intermediaries and diplomats through their understanding of neighbouring language or traditional customs. Local guides on the other hand were those picked up along the way and who would stay with the party through their own country, sometimes facilitating movement across boundaries into neighbouring country. Local Aboriginal knowledge was one of the most valuable resources that European explorers could acquire, for it providing an intimate knowledge of the country which they were passing through. 26 Reynolds has argued that while the use of Aboriginal guides by European exploratory parties was widespread, their story has been downplayed in the traditional narratives of exploration and discovery. Aboriginal guides accompanied almost every major expedition from Sydney before the 1820s, and continued to do so as Europeans pushed out from new settlement areas for much of the nineteenth century. 27

26 H. Reynolds, Black Pioneers: How Aboriginal and Islander People helped build Australia , Penguin Books, Ringwood, Victoria, 2000, p. 25. 27 Reynolds, 2000, Black Pioneers , p. 19.

127 Soon enough Myles was called on in his role as guide. At Putty, where both Parr and

Singleton had first run into difficulties, Howe sent Myles and another Aboriginal man out to search for a local guide and to look for kangaroos. In his journal, Howe wrote of sending out “the natives”, suggesting the second man with Myles. However on his list of the party he sent to Macquarie in November he had only mentioned Myles and the other unnamed

Aboriginal guide, who left the party after two days. 28 His reference to “natives” at Putty, which was four days after their start date, hints that either a third guide had started with the party, or someone was picked up on the way. Either way, the first foray was unsuccessful, as the following day, Sunday October 30, Howe sent “the two natives out for a native guide as we could proceed no farther”. This time they returned in the evening

“with two boys, having met with a guide that would wait for us”.29 It is not clear from the journal why the boys were bought in and not the actual guide. As they are not mentioned again, it could be that they themselves directed the party back to the guide, or could they have been taken as some collateral to ensure the co-operation of the guide?

By sending his Hawkesbury guides out to find local guides, Howe was perhaps displaying a more nuanced understanding of the way Aboriginal cultural practice and bushcraft operated. As Singleton had found, not all Aboriginal people were familiar with country outside of their own, nor were they necessarily welcomed into it. Myles may have advised

Howe of the fact that they needed a local connection, for both guidance and to ensure a right-of-passage.

The guides proved to be an invaluable addition to the expedition and within five days,

Howe and his party were through the mountains and, although he did not yet realise it, gazing down on the floodplain of the upper Hunter River. The passage had been a

28 Howe to Macquarie, 17 November 1819, CSC, SRNSW, Reel 6048 4/1743, p. 123a. 29 ‘Journal of John Howe of Expedition from Windsor to the Hunter River in 1819’, Sunday 30 th October 1819, NSW Surveyor General Field books, SRNSW, Reel 2623 2/8093.

128 challenge, for the route still took them up and down ridges and gullies, through areas that

Howe at first described as having the appearance of being impassable, and through country where the horses were required to be unloaded for the descent. As Howe was searching for land through which a viable track or road could be cut, this type of terrain must have been disheartening. However without the guides it is unlikely Howe would have made any more progress than his predecessors.

Myles and the other guides also proved useful in cross-cultural interactions. The day after the two local boys and the local guide, named Murphy, had joined them, the party came across upwards of sixty people at an Aboriginal campsite. 30 Howe noted that many had not seen a European before and that some of the children ran away and others scrambled up the trees to avoid them. Here they stopped and ate, distributing biscuits to the camp. It is likely that the local guide was associated with the camp and led the party to it.

On November 4, nine days after setting out, Howe and his party looked out from a ridge line over a heavy fog, which appeared to hang over a river. Howe notes that it:

appears very extensive, being seen as far as the eye can reach and has much the

appearance of the boisterous ocean, only the Fog is white and the Ocean appears

green, over a Range of Rocks… 31

The guides called this the “Coomery Roy”, and said it was “more farther a great way”, which Howe at first took to mean the fog, but later saw that it more likely referred to the country itself. The party was looking out over the Upper Hunter, an area later identified as being within the range of the Kamilaroi people by the missionary Threlkeld and traveller

30 Howe, ‘Journal’, Thursday November 11, 1819. Murphy is not identified by name in the journal when he joins the party but rather on the way back when he is addressed by an older Aboriginal man. It is not known if Murphy was a name ascribed to him by Howe or someone in the party or if this was already the English name he was known by. 31 Howe, ‘Journal’, Thursday 4 November 1819.

129 Lieutenant H. W. Breton, amongst others. 32 The Upper Hunter was the southern edge of the Kamilaroi’s extensive country, which ran up over the Liverpool Ranges and northwest to the Barwon and Namoi Rives around Walgett and Brewarrina. The hint to Howe that it was not a descriptor of the fog but instead something more extensive and significant was given the same day, when his guides called a creek they crossed Coomery Roy Creek. The name Coomery Roy was later taken by Benjamin Singleton as his property’s name and remains in use as a locality in the Hunter, while the road leading north from Kurrajong, following the route Howe had taken when he first set out, uses the derivative Comleroy

Road.

The following day, November 5, after a morning of hard travel, Howe’s party emerged from the mountains and narrow valleys to the banks of a fresh water river. Howe’s search for grazing land was rewarded. He enthused in his journal over the richness of the land and the potential for grazing, writing that the country was ‘thinly timbered’ with many acres having no trees at all. He estimated that just twenty trees stand on fifty acres— it was the finest land for grazing sheep and cattle that he had seen since he left England. 33 As a long term resident of Windsor, an area known as much for its fertile soil as it was for its propensity to flood, Howe also recorded the evidence of recent flooding on his new river.

He noted the flood debris deposited in the bushes on the river bank, but only breast height and with enough high ground away from the river for stock to escape to. Further down they came on to the edge of a “fresh”, or flood, still over the land, with water stretching between three quarters and one and one half miles back on either side (approximately 1.2–

32 Lieut. H. W. Breton, 1833, Excursions in New South Wales, Western Australia and Van Dieman’s Land during the years 1830, 1831, 1832, and 1833 , Richard Bently, London, p. 203. 33 Howe, ‘Journal’, Friday 5 th November, 1819.

130 2.4 kilometres). Howe repeated these observations in a letter to Macquarie on his return to Windsor. 34

Howe’s opportunity to explore further was curtailed by the appearance “of a strange native” who approached the camp as the horses are being unloaded. The surprise visitor observed the party and promptly disappeared into the bush before Howe could direct one of his guides to speak with him, but their anxiety was such that they wanted to shoot him.

Half an hour later, five more men were seen crossing the river approximately 800 metres lower down and then approaching through the trees to watch the party from across the river. Myles and the local guides were alarmed at the appearance of the five men and threatened to leave immediately. Although Howe convinced them to remain for the night, during which the group kept a guard, the men would not proceed further the following morning. There was only so far that the guides were prepared to take Europeans into another group’s country. Instead Howe negotiated to go on to the next reach in the river before turning back across country to where they entered the valley. 35 On his way he picked up some coal from the river bank, near the present town of Jerrys Plains, and took it with him back to Sydney. This is the first recorded extraction of coal in the Upper Hunter.

The journey back towards Windsor was made as quickly as possible, as rations were beginning to run short, Howe was suffering from fever and the packhorses were in poor condition. On the second day, one of the party, the convict Charles Berry, was separated while looking for water and lost in the bush. He was found after two hours by one of the

Aboriginal men, who said he was heading towards the new settlement, which Howe took to mean Bathurst. The journey to the valley had been arduous and wearing, perhaps the eagerness to get home had resulted in a lapse of concentration. In contrast, George Loder

34 John Howe to Governor Macquarie, 17 November 1819, CSC, SRNSW, Reel 6048 4/1743 p. 121. 35 Howe, ‘Journal’, Saturday 6 November, 1819.

131 left the party the same day on his own, declaring his intention to return to the Hawkesbury via Yengo, or Mt Yengo, which was on the way back to Windsor, although not the same route Howe had come out on. Striking out into the bush alone seems to indicate that Loder had some previous knowledge of the region, possibly from joining earlier attempts with

Singleton. On his first attempt, according to Parr’s 1817 map of the Oxley expedition

Singleton had skirted the base of Mt Yengo and the way back to Windsor from there would have been familiar. 36

The European’s fatigue, clearly recorded in the condition of the party, was noted by an older Aboriginal man and his son when the party returned through the Aboriginal camp they had stopped at earlier. The man, named Whirle, noted the condition of the horses and asked why they looked so bad. Howe explained that one was sick and the road had been bad for them. Whirle then questioned Murphy on the way he had taken them, and on hearing the route, was angry with Murphy for taking them the wrong way, telling Howe that he and his son could show them an easier way to the river. There is no explanation as to why Murphy would take the European’s the wrong way or why Whirle would feel the need to show them another. Some have suggested Murphy was deliberately trying to mislead Howe and his group or possibly lead them away from sacred sites, while others think he may have been taking a higher track to enable him to cautiously approach the neighbouring Kamilaroi country. The latter may be a plausible explanation, taking into consideration the reaction of Murphy and the other Aboriginal guides to the six men they encountered. 37

36 Macqueen, Somewhat Perilous , p. 102. 37 Ford, ‘Darkiñung Recognition’ p. 124; Macqueen, Somewhat Perilous , p. 103. Ford also suggests that Murphy could be the same man Singleton met with, known as Mawby. He has identified Mawby’s Aboriginal name as Maicoe from blanket lists in 1836 and 1837. However Howe does not mention that Murphy can speak any English, which Mawby could. Further if Mawby and Murphy are the same man, why would he take Singleton in one direction from where they can go no further and Howe through the mountains to the river they are seeking?

132 Whirle, via an interpreter, said the river was large and tidal, but when asked if it ran into the Coal River he said no, it was further away. Howe took this to mean Port Stephens, although Whirle said he had never been there. 38 When asked if there was much clear land near the river Whirle responded “ too much! too much! too much! all about ”.39 Was Whirle talking here about the open country that Howe had noted so eagerly in his journal, or could it be that he was commenting on the land clearance then well under way as convict cedar and timber getters were working their way up river? If Whirle had seen the tidal flow of the Hunter, then he would have passed through the logged forests on the way, although at this stage of the Hunter settlement, timber getting was still a selective business and would not have been the likely cause of extensive open country. Perhaps as a man from the rugged country of the Bulga Ranges, he was simply expressing a preference for his country over the flat and open floodplains that characterised the Hunter.

After setting off from the Aboriginal camp site, they were followed by upwards of 60 men, who joined them at their next camp, coming in throughout the night. When gathered, they performed a corroboree for the group and Howe shared two kangaroos he had shot, which he gave to them, keeping two hind legs for his own party. The remainder of the journey back was undertaken in relatively quick time, with Howe arriving in Windsor in the afternoon of the November 13 and the rest of the party the following morning.

On November 17, 1819 Howe wrote to Governor Macquarie to inform him of his return from a 21 day journey to the north-northwest of Windsor. He reported that he had discovered “a fine tract of land for cultivation and grazing…situated on the banks of a fine fresh water river ”.40 Unbeknownst to Howe at the time, he had come upon the upper reaches of the Hunter River close to the present town of Jerry Plains. Howe also told

38 Howe, ‘Journal’, Thursday 11 November, 1819. 39 Howe, ‘Journal’, Thursday 11 November, 1819. 40 John Howe to Governor Macquarie, 17 November 1819, CSC, SRNSW, Reel 6048 4/1743 p. 120.

133 Macquarie of Whirle’s alternative route, and that he had followed the river for approximately seven and a half miles, through fine grazing land, and regretted not being able to go further due to his health. No mention was made of the encounter with the

Aboriginal men on the river bank and his guides’ refusal to proceed. Nor was there any mention of the difficulty of the path they followed and its unsuitability for a road.

On Macquarie’s orders, Howe equipped Myles and a small party of Aboriginal men to return north to where he had seen the fog and investigate the route suggested by the old man Whirle. Myles left on the December 9 and returned in 17 days reporting that it was a shorter and better road and that the cleared ground was more extensive then where

Howe’s party had entered the valley. Myles had not reached the river however, as they had expended all the ammunition they had. Howe instructed Myles to attempt to convince

Whirle and another man, Bandagran, who had first told Howe about the river, to “come in” to a meeting with Macquarie at Parramatta. Myles himself received a plate and musket as promised by Macquarie for undertaking the journey. 41

Some questions remain regarding Myles’ journey. Why had he not reached the river if he had gone all that way and why had they turned back when they ran out of ammunition? It could be that once on the open land Myles felt no further need to go to the river bank, remembering that the party had previously reached the river. He may have been able to see the river in the distance and did not want to go further into the unknown Aboriginal territory than he had to. This may also explain the expenditure of the ammunition. It is unlikely that the whole Aboriginal party were supplied with muskets, rather just Myles and maybe his brother, the rest carrying traditional weapons, although no evidence either way has been uncovered. But if this was the case, running out of ammunition would not have affected their ability to procure food for themselves. The muskets would have, however,

41 Howe to Macquarie, 27 December 1819, CSC, SRNSW, Reel 6048, 4/1743 p. 124.

134 been a powerful deterrent or useful weapon against any more “strange natives” encountered as had been the case on the first expedition. Howe himself said that his

Aboriginal guides had wanted to shoot the unknown visitor before their retreat from the valley.

Whatever the reasons, Myles and his all-Aboriginal party, with official sanction from the

Governor, had followed and reported the first recorded, viable route connecting the

Windsor settlements with the Hunter Valley. The track was a pre-existing Aboriginal pathway known to Whirle and his people. Myles’ rehabilitation in the eyes of the

Europeans was complete; in the space of four years he had gone from hunted rebel to guide to rewarded explorer.

Howe’s faith in Myles speaks of the personal relationship that had developed between the two men that was necessary for the successful collaboration of explorer and guide. A high level of confidence was needed on both sides for these forays into unknown territory.

Howe’s trust in Myles had been further illustrated when Myles was entrusted with a musket on at least one occasion during the expedition, shooting a Rock Kangaroo for the party. 42 Despite this, his role as the guide of the expedition was later almost entirely forgotten. The downplaying of the guides’ role by Europeans in their official reports was not uncommon. Myles disappeared from the story in 1820 and then largely from the history of the Hunter Valley altogether. His was a fate shared by most Aboriginal guides in the historiography of exploration in Australia, where the Europeans write heroic accounts of their own achievements, while at the same time downplaying their dependency on their guides. 43

42 Howe, ‘Journal’, Thursday 4 November 1819. 43 Reynolds, Black Pioneers , p. 9.

135 While the advantage of using guides by the Europeans is clear enough, why would

Aboriginal men agree to go? Without the voice of the guides themselves, we can only speculate on their motivations, although the experience of Myles may give some clues.

Myles had been until recently a wanted man. The very name he has been given by

Europeans suggests someone on the outer—the name Myles was probably a derivative of the Aboriginal word My-all meaning stranger or ‘wild’. Gaining the confidence of

Europeans via a successfully guided expedition would have been an advantage for Myles on the potentially volatile frontier where he lived. Being with an armed party of Europeans while heading into another group’s territory may also have been a strong motivation. In her book Shaking Hands on the Fringe , Tiffany Shellam examined the relationships formed between Europeans and the King Ya-nup in South-West Western Australia in the 1830s.

Aboriginal guides there recognised the advantage that new knowledge of distant country could be for them amongst their own people. Knowledge about new country and new people was a valuable commodity that could be traded and could elevate a person’s status in the eyes of both their own kin and those of the Europeans. 44

Outside of security and status, guiding provided access to European goods and weapons.

Clothes, tobacco and food were routinely handed out by European explorers to Aboriginal helpers and guides. However in some instances, as seen in Myles’ case, others were rewarded with muskets which would have been a highly prized acquisition.

And yet, by 1820, when Myles led Howe, there was enough evidence from the Sydney region, around the Nepean and Hawkesbury and over the Blue Mountains to the Western

44 Shellam, Shaking Hands on the Fringe , pp. 139-141. Mi-yal, meaning stranger is included in the word list compiled by David Collins in his An Account of the English Colony in New South Wales, Vol. 1, Appendix XII p. 507. See also Geoff Ford, ‘ Darkiñung Recognition: An Analysis of the historiography for the Aborigines from the Hawkesbury-Hunter Ranges Northwest of Sydney’, Master of Arts (Research) Thesis, School of Philosophical and Historical Inquiry, Department of History, University of Sydney, 2010, pp. 75 and 122. Ford adds that Myles was taken to mean ‘wild’ or undomesticated.

136 Plains, that guiding Europeans facilitated the invasion and dispossession of their own or their neighbour’s country.

Howe and Myles’ Second Expedition 1820 Howe wasted no time in organising another expedition to travel the new found route and explore further the valley and unknown river. On 5 February 1820 Howe wrote urgently to

Governor Macquarie, requesting a meeting to finalise the details of the expedition and to establish the level of Government support in terms of equipment and supplies. In his letter to the Governor, Howe explains his urgency was due to the:

fear that the sailing of the ship Cockburn will be protracted until the season be so far

spent as to oblige me to encounter it in the wet or wintery season, which I should be

afraid to do on account of my health 45

Howe’s reference to the Cockburn appears to be the ship Admiral Cockburn , the only ship of that name in the colony at the time. However if this is the case his time was indeed very short, as the Admiral Cockburn sailed from Sydney for England on March 1, 1820. 46 Howe’s letter reads as if he expects the Cockburn to meet his party at the end of their journey, possibly for resupply or to transport them home again. This is how it has been interpreted by Macqueen, for example. 47 However, it appears that Howe’s concerns over the Cockburn were not to do with his meeting it but rather that Governor Macquarie had issued a proclamation that he was preparing dispatches for his Majesty’s Government to go in the ship and that prior to its sailing he would accept no applications except in an emergency. 48

If the ship was delayed, Howe would need to wait too long to meet with Macquarie and

45 Howe to Macquarie, 5 February 1820, CSC, SRNSW, Reel 6049, 4/1744, p. 154. 46 SG , 4 March 1820, p. 2. As a point of interest, one of the passengers for the voyage was Mrs Maria Lewin, wife of the recently deceased artist John Lewin who had accompanied Lieutenant Grant on board the Lady Nelson on the first official survey of the Hunter River in 1801. http://www.library.mq.edu.au/digital/lema/1820/1820march.html viewed 3 April 2013. 47 Macqueen, Somewhat Perilous , p. 109. 48 SG 15 January 1820, p. 1.

137 discuss the details of his expedition and arrange any assistance he might need. Macquarie agreed that Howe’s request constituted an emergency and to meet with him on February

15. He allowed Howe provisions for ten men and two Aboriginal guides. Amongst the list of supplies were twelve muskets, with twenty four rounds per man, suggesting that both

Europeans and Aboriginal members would be so armed. On the final invoice for the expedition it was also noted that the party took “three pounds of tobacco for the natives”, which may be for any Aboriginal people met on the way as part of a payment or gift. 49

The party set out on March 6 and followed Myles and another Aboriginal guide Mullaboy

(possibly Myles’ brother who accompanied him on the previous trip). It had grown to sixteen men, including George Loder and the convicts Charles Berry and Nicholas Connelly, who had accompanied Howe in 1819 as well as Benjamin Singleton and three volunteers. 50

With six pack horses the expedition reached the river on March 15, 1820 and following it east came upon the convict camp at Wallis Plains six days later, confirming the mystery river as the upper reaches of the Hunter. In a letter to Macquarie from Wallis Plains, Howe described the country along the river banks as “fine a country as imagination can form….fit for cultivation and equally so for grazing”. 51 He noted that on the way out they had only had to unload the horses once and that an easy road for cattle could be made between

Windsor and the river with little effort.

49 Bigge Appendices, Bonwick Transcript [hereafter BT], Box 2, p. 734. Howe was later reimbursed £76/14/6 for expenses incurred on the expedition, SG , 29 July 1820, p. 29. 50 Howe’s party consisted of himself, the Aboriginal guides Myles and Mullaboy, free men George Loder, Benjamin Singleton, Daniel Phillips; Volunteers Andrew Loder (younger brother of George), Thomas Dargin, Phillip Thorley; Ticket-of-leave holder Jeremiah Butler; and convicts Charles Berry, Robert Bridle, Nicholas Connelly, James House, Samuel Marshall and Frederick Rhodes. CSC, SRNSW, Reel 6050, 4/1747 p. 12. In May 1820 Howe was reappointed Chief Constable at Windsor, George Loder was reappointed as the Gaoler and Pound keeper and both Jeremiah Butler and James House were appointed as Town Constables. SG 27 May 1820, p. 1. 51 Howe to Macquarie, 21 March 1820, CSC, SRNSW, Reel 6049, 4/1744 p. 162. Howe kept no known journal during this expedition.

138 The following day Howe began the return journey to Windsor, heading back up the river and again noting several areas of extensive pasture and areas he considered as good as the lowlands of Richmond for food production. This time Howe and his men marked the road, most likely by blazing the trees, to show the way they had been. For his trouble, Howe was promised a grant of 700 acres at St Patrick’s Plains (so named after the “discovery” date being close to St Patricks Day) on the banks of the river he “discovered”.52 As for Myles and

Mullaboy, they were not mentioned again by Howe or in relation to the Hunter Valley. An

Aboriginal man identified as Miles or Mioram and another identified as Wolloboy or Jack appear in the blanket list for Richmond in 1833 and 1834, so it may be that the men both returned to the Hawkesbury area. 53

It is not unusual in the context of colonial use of Aboriginal guides that Myles and Mullaboy would drop out of the narrative following the marking of the track by Howe. The role of the professional guide was a transitory one, as the guide was only useful to the Europeans at the edge of the frontier, at the point when Europeans were pushing beyond their own known boundaries. Once the way was known, the traditional Aboriginal knowledge was converted and claimed in a form recognisable to Europeans. Paths were marked and mapped, as Howe had done on his return to Windsor.

With the marking of the road, the Hunter Valley’s usefulness as a penal station was effectively over. This was illustrated to the authorities in July 1820, less than four months after Howe had returned to Windsor. A party of four convicts from the cedar gang at

Paterson’s Plains absconded and followed the path “made by Mr Howe’s horses” to

Windsor. 54 The Commandant at Newcastle, James Morisset, also claimed that the

52 Governor Macquarie, 18 September, 1820, CSC, SRNSW, CY1449, C330. 53 See Ford ‘g Darkiñung Recognition’, p. 128. See also SG 2 September 1826, p. 4. Miles is noted in an article on a public meeting as Chief of the Richmond Tribe. 54 Morisset to Macquarie, 6 July 1820, CSC, SRNSW, Reel 6067 4/1807, p. 101.

139 runaways had been neglecting their Government work and had been encouraged to do so by the few settlers along the river, who employed them despite orders to the contrary.

Morisset saw that the only way to make them work was to have them supervised and the only way to stop the settlers employing them was to remove the settlers from their farms.

He had the resources to do neither. To the large convict population still stationed at

Newcastle and in the Hunter, the knowledge of an easy-to-follow, marked route running from Wallis Plains all the way back to the Hawkesbury would have been a powerful temptation for those who were inclined to chance a getaway.

In fact the idea of moving the penal station had already been officially mooted by

Macquarie in a letter to Earl Bathurst just over twelve months before, in March 1819. With a new, more isolated site for a penal station having recently been discovered further north at Port Macquarie, the Governor eyed the rich and fertile land along the three principal rivers in the Hunter as the likely site of settlement for the increasing population of free settlers. As Macquarie informed Bathurst, the area had the dual advantages of already being extensively clear of timber, making access to the land via the river easy and having quick access to Sydney markets via Newcastle and the coastal trading ships to Sydney. 55

Despite the beginnings of a plan to remove the penal station to Port Macquarie in 1819, it was not until 1823 that convicts were moved en masse to the new site. In the meantime, the first of the free settlers who had been promised grants had begun to arrive overland in the Upper Hunter and by ship into Newcastle.

55 Macquarie to Earl Bathurst, 8 March 1819, HRA , Series 1, Vol.10, p. 44.

140

141

Chapter 4

In expectation of receiving an extra grant of land – the European land rush

In October 1822, James Morisset, the Commandant at the Newcastle penal station, wrote to the Colonial Secretary trying to get some clarification on the legality of settlement in the

Hunter Valley. He had been attempting to obtain some official direction on settlement policy ever since John Howe had arrived overland from Windsor in 1820. Although the penal station at Newcastle and its outposts and timber camps along the lower Hunter River were still in operation, the plotting of an overland route by John Howe’s party had seriously compromised the settlement’s isolation. Free settlers, emancipists and newly arriving emigrants saw the Hunter Valley as a new frontier of rich grazing lands for their sheep and cattle. By 1822 settlement had spread along the banks of the Hunter, Williams and

Paterson River, as emancipist farmers first granted land by Macquarie in 1812 were joined by new arrivals.

While these settlers were within reach of Morisset’s authority, he was also becoming aware of European occupation further up the valley, around St Patricks Plains where Howe had first entered the Hunter. By August 1822, Howe was occupying some land along the river at St Patricks Plains and it appears his track was now reasonably well known to his

Hawkesbury neighbours. A number of families had come in overland, out of sight of

Morisset and the Newcastle bureaucracy and had rapidly cultivated the river flats, erected cattle yards and generally begun to settle in. These settlers had come into contact with those already established at Wallis Plains and by running carts back and forth between the

142 settlements, had marked out a clear track through the bush. This in turn linked the two fledgling communities back to Windsor, where these settlers were coming from. The track also provided the easiest route for convicts to run from the penal station all the way back to the Hawkesbury and allowed alcohol, long banned in the penal station, into the Wallis

Plains area. 1 Morisset’s almost absolute authority amongst the prisoners in Newcastle was being undermined by a new population forming beyond his easy reach and continual surveillance.

These first few settlers and their families represented the beginnings of a wave of

Europeans that would soon sweep into the Hunter from the east and southwest. The influx of settlers via land and sea led to an increase in the European population from 1169 at the end of 1821 to 1673 by 1825, before almost doubling to 3260 by 1828. Coupled with this was the alienation of land to Europeans for farming and grazing. With just 638 acres granted in 1821, the impact of Europeans on the Aboriginal population and their land use was still relatively minor. However as the amount of alienated land rose to 67,798 acres in

1828 and then to 537,488 in 1828 (not including 1 million acres to the Australian

Agricultural Company north of the Williams River and around Port Stephens), tensions between Europeans and Aboriginal people increased as farms spread across the same land that Aboriginal people depended on for their own survival. The rapidly filling valley also caused friction between the wealthy emigrant landholders and those emancipist and native born Europeans who could not get a foothold on the land they thought they deserved. 2

1 Morisset to Goulburn, 10 October 1822, CSC, SRNSW, R6067, 4/1808, p. 284. 2 Perry, Australia’s First Frontier , Table 1 and Table 2, pp. 130 -131. In Hectares the corresponding areas equal 258ha in 1821, 27,437ha in 1825 and 217,514ha, plus the 404,686ha of the A. A. Co. in 1828. There is approximately 5,716,200 acres of alluvial land in the Hunter Valley, which equals around 5% of the total land mass of the Valley, See T. M. Burley, ‘The Evolution of the Agricultural Pattern in the Hunter Valley, New South Wales’, The Australian Geographer , Volume 8, No. 5, 1962, pp 221–223.

143 The foundations for the Hunter’s European development were thus set in a few short years.

The end of the convict station and the first settlements As the leader of the exploratory party that had found its way overland from Windsor to the middle Hunter Valley (using Aboriginal guides and pathways), John Howe received permission from Governor Macquarie in September 1820 to take and graze his flocks and herds in the district of St Patricks Plains on the Hunter River. The permit was valid until such time as the promised grant of 700 acres could be made out officially. 3 However it appears that he did not go immediately and there is no evidence that he sent cattle either, at least not for the time being. In August 1821, Howe, still in Windsor, wrote to Macquarie, forwarding a request on behalf of the six free men who accompanied him in 1820 for grants of land. 4 However the word of his successful expedition spread amongst the families settled along the Hawkesbury River and some soon followed his lead without permission.

One example was William Bell, the son of the chief magistrate at Windsor, Archibald Bell.

In November 1820, Bell senior gave evidence to Commissioner Bigge that his son had travelled overland to the ‘Comeroi’ via ‘Boottee’ (Putty), describing the land at Comeroi,

(then the name being used by some for the middle Hunter) as a hilly, undulating and open land with a thick covering of kangaroo grass and herbage. 5 At this time William Bell appears to have merely visited, possibly following Howe’s marked trail to inspect the new land for its possibilities. It was not long however before those with the means began to follow up on the reports and start to move through the mountains towards the Hunter.

The first recorded party to actually move overland with the intention of staying in the

Hunter was that of the Reverend George Augustus Middleton, the newly appointed

3 Governor Macquarie, 18 September, 1820, CSC, SRNSW, CY1449, C330. 4 Howe to Macquarie, CSC, SRNSW, May 1820, R6051, 4/1750, pp. 27-29. 5Archibald Bell evidence to Commissioner Bigge, 27 November 1820, Bigge Report, BT Box 1, ML.

144 chaplain for Newcastle and district. Accompanied by John de Marquett Blaxland, the son of

John Blaxland of Luddenham and some convicts, Middleton arrived in the Hunter in July

1821 driving 174 cattle to Paterson’s Plains. 6 Having been appointed as the chaplain at

Newcastle, Middleton was entitled to a 400 acre glebe, which he had selected on the

Paterson River. Blaxland was also hoping to secure land in the Hunter. The pair took a different path to Howe, following the Macdonald River, as Benjamin Singleton had on his first expedition in 1817, before joining part of the ancient Aboriginal trading route known as the Boree Track which took them into the Wollombi Valley. From here they turned east, heading across the flat lands that skirted the Sugarloaf Mountain and into the settlement at

Newcastle. 7 Middleton, Blaxland and their party, and especially his herd of 174 cattle, made a clear path through the bush, marking the trees along the way. This track became known as the Parson’s Road.

The arrival of Middleton and Blaxland was followed in September by George,

William and Henry Bell who claimed to have Government permission. The Bells also arrived overland, possibly following the route taken by William in 1820 as reported by their father to Bigge. Morisset, who was still running the penal station and was becoming increasingly concerned over the security and discipline of his prisoners sought clarification of the legitimacy of their passage to Newcastle from the Governor. He went on to set out his concerns regarding the arrival of their party:

I much fear that it will cause many of the Prisoners to run from this station who are

kept with the greatest difficulty–the trees have, I understand, been cut to Mark the

6 John de Marquett, ‘Journal at Wallis Plains 14 February to 31 August 1821’, ML, CY Reel 1480. 7 Morisset to Goulburn, 18 December 1821, CSC, SRNSW, R6067, 4/1807, p. 253. Macqueen, Somewhat Perilous , p. 124.

145 Road …. I hope his Excellency will not give permission to any other persons to come

overland to the settlement while it continues a place of punishment. 8

In October the Colonial Secretary, Frederick Goulburn, advised Morisset that the Governor had not given permission to anyone to travel overland to Newcastle except for Reverend

Middleton. A notice was posted in the next addition of the Sydney Gazette stating that travel without permission was forbidden. 9

In December 1821 Morisset wrote once more to the Colonial Secretary concerning

Reverend Middleton and his road. In frustration, he advised that Middleton’s track provided a well-marked trail from Wallis Plains all the way back to Sydney. Twelve convicts had absconded in a group along the road, and he feared that other convicts, who would have otherwise remained “quiet and contented”, would now be induced to follow them.

Morisset did not have the guard numbers to keep convicts from absconding and, as the convicts believed that Governor Brisbane would not return them to the settlement if they were captured, he feared more would try. 10 At least one absconder had attacked a soldier in an escape attempt, and his escape was only prevented through assistance rendered by

Aboriginal men nearby. To add to Morisset’s anxieties, a party of two soldiers and a bush constable he had sent down the road had themselves been detained by the Magistrates in

Windsor. 11 Morisset advised the Governor that the only way to keep convicts from running on the Parson’s Road was to employ constant patrols back and forth along it, but with his small force this was hardy practicable from his end, as it undermined his ability to control his charges. To encourage his men, he had established a system of rewards to soldiers and bush constables for the recapture of runaways and bushrangers operating around the

8 Morisset to Campbell, 7 September 1821, CSC, SRNSW, R6067, 4/1807, p. 219. 9 Goulburn to Morisset, 2 October 1821, CSC, SRNSW, R6008, 4/3504, p. 405. SG , 6 October 1821, p. 1. 10 Morisset to Goulburn, 18 December 1821, CSC, SRNSW, R6067, 4/1807, p. 253. 11 Morisset to Goulburn, 18 December 1821, CSC, SRNSW, R6067, 4/1807, p. 253.

146 settlements. 12 As a final plea, Morisset asked the Governor that no more cattle be permitted to be driven to the settlement overland.

Although the decision was made to remove the bulk of the government convicts remaining at Newcastle to the new penal station at Port Macquarie by the end of 1823, Morisset was nevertheless confronted in the interim with the colonial administration’s lack of clarity over jurisdiction in the penal station regarding free settlers, as well as a decreasing authority over both his charges and the new arrivals. While Newcastle had always had a role as a place of banishment and punishment while simultaneously being an industrial and economic outpost, in previous years, the commandants had only to deal with these conflicting priorities in terms of a convict population. 13 Morisset was now also forced to deal with free settlers over whom he had considerably less control, for many of them were well connected in Sydney and London, and had been promised generous land grants.

At Paterson’s Plains the Reverend Middleton had set about clearing land and securing his stock. One party of his men began clearing the ground and felling trees to construct a stock yard, while another group cleared a path through the thick brush along the river to allow the cattle to come up from Wallis Plains where they had left them. Middleton’s travelling companion, noted that the land along the river banks was covered in a thick brush of cedar and rosewood, with the land behind having good, rich soil. With low banks however it was subject to severe flooding. Back from the river the land rose to gentle hills with lagoons in between and an abundance of grass and herbs for cattle to graze on. 14

Middleton sold some of his herd to settlers around Paterson’s Plains within two weeks of their arrival there, including to the convict farmers granted plots by Macquarie and a few

12 CSC, SRNSW, 25 November 1821, R6067, 4/1807, p. 235. 13 David Roberts and D. Garland, ‘The Forgotten Commandant: James Wallis and the Newcastle Penal Settlement, 1816-1818’, AHS , 41, 2010, p. 9. 14 John de Marquett, ‘Journal at Wallis Plains 14 February to 31 August 1821’, Saturday July 14, 1821, ML, CY Reel 1480.

147 of the officials of Newcastle who had taken up land along the river. In November 1821, when Governor Macquarie visited Wallis Plains on his final tour of the colony, he reported that there were eleven families living along the river. Middleton however stayed at the parsonage in Newcastle for much of the time, his farm likely managed by one of his eight convict men. 15

As settlers numbers increased, the newly arrived governor, Sir , instructed the Surveyor General, John Oxley, to begin surveying land around Newcastle and along the

Hunter River for partition into grants in March 1822. Oxley duly instructed Henry Dangar, an assistant surveyor in the Department, to commence the survey, starting in Newcastle on the coast and heading inland. Dangar began work on March 14, 1822. Morisset had been aware of the Governor’s desire for settlement in the valley and had pledged his support to the scheme in February, assuring the administration that he would render every assistance to the new settlers and endeavour to meet the Governor’s intentions as near as possible. 16

He did however appeal again to the Colonial Secretary for some clarification on Governor

Brisbane’s intentions in regards to settlers. Morisset was concerned that they would inevitably change the nature of governing the Newcastle settlement and asked for the appointment of a second magistrate to assist him with the increasing numbers of settlers who were coming to the district and taking up an increasing amount of his time. 17 Morisset suggested Lieutenant Edward Charles Close of the 48th Regiment, then stationed at

Newcastle. Close had arrived in Newcastle with his regiment in January 1819, with

Morisset as his commander. When the regiment was ordered to relocate to India, Close

15 There are eight convict men listed as working for Middleton in the 1823-25 General Muster of NSW. Governor Macquarie, A voyage and tour of inspection from Port Jackson to the settlements of Port Macquarie and Newcastle , November 1821, ML. 16 Morisset to Goulburn, 28 February 1822, CSC, SRNSW, R6067, 4/1808, p. 62. 17 Morisset to Goulburn, 28 February 1822, CSC, SRNSW, R6067, 4/1808, p. 62. Morisset to Goulburn, 26 March 1822, CSC, SRNSW, R6067, 4/1808, p. 76.

148 who was by then Engineer and Inspector of Public Works at Newcastle, resigned his commission and decided to stay. On March 28, 1822, Close was duly included on the list of those appointed by the Governor as a Justice of the Peace.18

The magistrate was an essential component of frontier law in colonial New South Wales, directly involved in the management of convict labour and, in more isolated settlements, sometimes acting as the only representative of the law and the civil administration. Those appointed prior to the mid-1820s were often unpaid, relying on the income from their own farm or business and were mostly amateurs in terms of their legal knowledge. Like Close, they were appointed as much on their standing in the local community and their connections as they were on any legal training or experience. 19 The magistrates were expected to adjudicate on a range of issues that people encountered on the frontier, from violent clashes between Aboriginal people and Europeans, to land disputes and altercations between free and convict society. Magistrates were also expected to control any police force in the district, organise convict and general musters, preside at public meetings, represent the concerns of local inhabitants, inspect the district and report back to Sydney, or in Close’s case, to Newcastle. 20 Magistrates operating in more distant parts of the colony were isolated from the authorities in Sydney. One result of this isolation was the reliance on a local interpretation of the law, particularly when any request for guidance from the higher authorities in Sydney could take weeks to be answered. For those with little or no experience in English law, their interpretations could be loose on some aspects

18 Proclamation of Magistrates, 28 March 1822, CSC, SRNSW, R6039 4/424, p. 52. The term Justice of the Peace and Magistrate were interchangeable in Colonial New South Wales. See J. K. McLaughlin ‘The Magistracy and the Supreme Court of New South Wales, 1824-1850: A Sesqui- Centenary Study’, JRAHS , Vol. 62, Part 2, 1976, 91. 19 L. Ford, Settler Sovereignty: Jurisdiction and indigenous People in America and Australia, 1788- 1836 , Harvard University Press, Cambridge Massachusetts, 2010, p. 124. 20 Ford, Settlers and Sovereignty , p. 124.

149 or application of them. 21 This was particularly the case when it came to convict punishments.

The scale and severity of punishments available to the Magistrates to inflict on the convict population had not been clearly defined by successive Governors, and by the time of

Close’s appointment there was a range of options to choose from. Magistrates could have convicts flogged; assigned extra work; sent to gaol or road gangs; imprisoned or removed to penal stations, which for Close included the new settlement at Port Macquarie. 22 As some measure of restraint, Governor Macquarie had restricted the number of lashes a single magistrate could order to 50, although this was not strictly adhered to by the

Commandants at Newcastle. 23

Like his predecessors, Morisset, had most often only to deal with the convicts sent to the penal station, with the occasional visiting ship or the farmers in the district adding a few free persons to his jurisdiction. However with the increasing numbers of new settlers and their convict servants heading towards the Hunter Valley from 1822, the administration of the law became increasingly complicated. As we have seen his recommendation of Close was a response to the growing responsibilities of the role. Just as Morisset had worked in relative isolation from Sydney, Close, although operating at Green Hills (Morpeth), a comparatively short distance away from Newcastle, was now also confronted with the responsibilities of law enforcement and judgement in an isolated environment. Although only just up the river, the trip to or from Newcastle by boat could take the best part of a day, even in favourable conditions, and so Close was now also required to adjudicate

21 B. Kercher, An Unruly Child: A History of Law in Australia , Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 1995, p. 44. 22 H. Golder, High and Responsible Office: A History of NSW Magistracy , Sydney University Press, Sydney, 1991, p. 9. 23 Roberts and Garland, ’The Forgotten Commandant’, p. 13.

150 matters without being in constant contact with his immediate headquarters. As he noted in correspondence with the Colonial Secretary:

The circumstances of this settlement have so completely altered within these few

months, that I am in many instances at a loss how to act particularly as I have

received no official instructions how to proceed. 24

To complicate things further, Close was also being called upon to preside over matters involving wealthy emigrant farmers, land disputes and assigned convicts, none of which

Morisset had faced.

Macquarie had previously elevated successful emancipists to the Magistracy as part of his wider support for wealthy emancipists in the colony, starting with Andrew Thompson in

1810. But the policy had antagonised the military and the growing numbers of wealthy emigrants arriving in New South Wales, fuelling opposition to him. By the time of Close’s appointment, emancipists were no longer being appointed to the magistracy and many of the advantages they had enjoyed under Macquarie, particularly in terms of access to land grants and senior positions in the public service were being wound back. The increasing restrictions on the emancipists were partly in response to the commission of inquiry into the colony undertaken by John Thomas Bigge between 1819 and 1820, and tabled in the

British parliament in 1822-23.

Bigge had been sent to New South Wales by Lord Bathurst, Secretary of State for the

Colonies in the British Cabinet, to investigate Macquarie’s administration and the state of the colony. He spent two years interviewing and collecting evidence, including speaking to

Morisset and other Newcastle and Hunter residents. He presented three reports, one on the overall state of the colony, one covering the judicial establishments and the last on the

24 Close to Goulburn, 6 December 1823, CSC, SRNSW, R6067 4/1809, p. 120

151 agriculture and trade of the colony. While sections of these reports were supportive of

Macquarie’s efforts, particularly in regards his improvements to the colony, Bigge’s overall view on the treatment of convicts and effectiveness of the colony as a place of punishment for Britain’s criminals emphasised a diminishing of the intent of the colony as a place of banishment and terror. 25 Macquarie’s support of emancipists was interpreted as undermining the essential components of the settlement and leading to a general impression of the colony as an increasingly lenient place, especially in the main towns. 26

The number of convicts in the towns of Sydney and Parramatta exceeded the amount of work available for them, according to Bigge, and the colony would be better served if the convicts employed in the towns were instead assigned to free landholders in the pursuit of pastoral expansion.

When discussing the expansion of the agricultural sector and its ability to employ large numbers of convicts, Bigge encouraged grazing over crop farming as the preferred method.

Crop farming in his opinion would always be largely confined to the coastal zone and that the cost of transporting produce from cultivated land would be high. For Bigge the grazing of sheep and cattle had the potential to open vast tracts of land beyond the mountains to the west of Sydney as well as providing a valuable resource, wool, for the mills of Britain. 27

Bigge envisaged the employment of convicts as shepherds under supervision of free, respectable men as a strategy which would hasten their reform through hard work and their separation from the temptations of the towns. Under Bigge’s proposal, for the estates to be large enough to be viable, the size of any grants would be determined in proportion to the number of convicts that settlers were prepared to employ and the size of the flocks or herds that they proposed to graze; the more of each they could support, the

25 Bigge, Report of Inquiry , p. 155. 26 Karskens, The Colony , p. 227. 27 Bigge, Report of Inquiry , p. 161.

152 more land they would be granted. If settlers increased their flocks in the future, extra land could be added to their estates. Bigge summed up the scheme thus:

The principal object of these regulations is, to induce persons of respectability to

engage personally in the rearing of sheep and cattle, on an extensive scale, in the

interior of the country, to employ convicts in that occupation, and to provide as

much control as possible for them, through the presence of their masters, or a free

overseer. 28

While encouraging the granting of land to wealthy free settlers, Bigge sought to restrict access to land by ticket-of-leave convicts and emancipists. Convicts holding tickets-of-leave would not be encouraged to purchase land, but rather should work as tenants or labourers on other people’s land. This would prevent the complication of any ticket holder resorting to the courts for rulings in land disputes, a recourse technically unavailable to them in

British law due to their criminal status, but one that had been allowed in New South Wales.

As for emancipists, Bigge saw the usual practice of granting 30 acres of land to them as most often resulting in the land being left unoccupied, uncultivated or sold soon after granting by ex-convicts with little means of providing for themselves or to afford any tools, stock or labourers to assist them. Although Bigge did not recommend that ex-convicts should be excluded from the property market, he did suggest that maximum grant size be reduced to 10 acres for those emancipists with little capital to improve them and that they be made near to existing towns for those who had no capital or who were not experienced on the land. This would enable them to supply whatever crops or produce they could to

28 Bigge, Report of inquiry , p. 161.

153 established markets nearby. If their farms failed to produce enough to sell, then they could work as labourers in trades or other pursuits that towns tended to generate. 29

As part of his investigation, Bigge had travelled to Newcastle in January 1820, where he interviewed some of those men involved in the penal station and inspected the farms established by Macquarie on the river around Wallis Plains. At this time, Morisset reported twelve farms at Patersons Plains and eleven at Wallis Plains, a distance of approximately seventy miles from Newcastle via the river, or twenty miles overland. 30 Bigge recommended that Newcastle and the Hunter Valley be opened for free settlement, which would be attractive due to the quality of the soil and the proximity by sea to Sydney markets. 31 However, he also acknowledged that it was prone to flooding. By the time

Bigge’s report on Newcastle was published, preparations were already underway to move the penal station to Port Macquarie. His recommendations to open the area for settlement reflected Macquarie’s own recommendations made in 1819. Although Bigge’s reports went into no specific detail regarding the opening of the Hunter, his general recommendations about grants based on capital and his encouragement of large scale grazing would have profound effects on the development of the region in the 1820s.

Dangar’s Surveys and Mapping the Valley By the time Bigge’s report was being considered in London, Henry Dangar was already surveying and marking out grants for the reception of settlers. Dangar’s survey divided the country into squares 36 miles each called Townships (later renamed as Parishes), using major streams or rivers as natural divisions between them where appropriate. He then

29 Bigge, Report of Inquiry , p. 173. 30 Turner, Newcastle as a convict Settlement , pp. 7-8. Bigge also interviewed William Cordeaux, Deputy Assistant Commissary General; John Harris, Surgeon and Magistrate, William Evans, Assistant Colonial Surgeon; Morris Landers, gaoler; Benjamin Grainger, Superintendent of coal mines; James Clohesy, stone mason; William Broughton, Acting-Assistant Commissary General; and Michael Robinson, Chief Clerk Colonial Secretary’s Office. 31 Bigge, Report of Inquiry , pp. 117 and 165.

154 further divided each division into sections of one square mile. Dangar was instructed to take particular note of the soil and type of country as he moved inland, and to avoid laying out more than one square mile of river frontage to any settler. 32 He was also informed of the existing ex-convict settlers along the river near Wallis Plains and Patersons Plains, although it was not known how much land had been allocated to them.

Morisset was already becoming aware that Europeans on the edge of his purview would seek to take advantage of the uncertainty over their tenure. He was keen to have Dangar formalise the grants and estates as soon as possible, to create some semblance of order on the frontier. Beyond the area of settlement, around Wallis Plains and along the Paterson

River, it was hoped Dangar’s survey would create a manageable and mappable grid across the unknown valley, pre-empting any future land disputes stirred up because of vague boundaries or unmarked claims. The survey and map of the Hunter Valley would allow

Morisset and the Colonial Government to exert their power over the place and set it into an ordered, recognisable European view. The schematic representation of these new lands brought with it the possibility of control and effective possession. The creation of a map was the easiest way for these new possessions to be understood, and later to be advertised and sold, literally and figuratively, to new and prospective settlers. Knowledge in general and knowledge of the natural world of these new places in particular, were powerful political tools for those interested in the success of these settlements. 33

The effective use of cadastre maps in consolidating properties and resources had already been demonstrated in the estate maps produced by landlords in England. Landowners such as Sir Joseph Banks had pioneered the use of accurate maps for their lands to take

32 CSC, SRNSW, 1 March 1822, R6067, 4/1808, p. 71. 33 J. Gascoigne ‘Joseph Banks, mapping and the geographies of natural knowledge’ in M. Ogborn and C. Withers (eds) Georgian Geographies: Essays on Space, Place and Landscape in the Eighteenth Century , Manchester, 2004, p. 154.

155 advantage of the resources it contained. Banks’ use of maps to drain fens, enclose land and plot the subsurface resources such as coal and lead, allowed him to take full advantage of the fuels behind the industrial revolution and maximise the returns from his estates. 34

The need for accurate mapping of land and resources was equally pressing in the eyes of the Morisset and the colonial administration in New South Wales, particularly once the settlement spread out beyond the easy reaches of Newcastle. The propaganda of contemporary maps during this period also encouraged increasing numbers of free emigrants to come to the colony and directed them to those places in the colony the administration wanted them to go to.

As Dangar moved inland he reported on the condition of the land and the soil. Close to the coast, between the main settlement at Newcastle and the land around Wallis Plains on the river, much of the land close to the river was dominated by swamps and marshes. The banks were thick with mangroves, which then became dense brush and brambles. In his field book he noted one small thicket was “such that the Devil when he was a boy could not get through”.35

Dangar quickly discovered that the topography of the valley created problems with his grid lines. Rivers, creeks, streams and swamps interrupted the artificial boundaries, hills and ridgelines bisected the squared-off Parishes. In a letter to the Surveyor General he advised that:

(the) survey is now carried a short distance beyond the first junction of the first

branch with the principle river at which place (banks the river has not) the shores are

so swampy, full of mangroves, brush and high reeds that I found it utterly impossible

34 Gascoigne, ’Joseph Banks’, p. 164. 35 Henry Dangar, Surveyor’s Field book 193, 1822, SRNSW 2/4837 p. 31.

156 to proceed in the survey at some places in the usual way without incalculable

trouble. 36

Further inland the sides of the valley itself impinged on the regulated squares to such an extent that the grid was largely abandoned beyond the future town of Scone. 37 At Wallis

Plains, Dangar reported that the emancipists and free settlers along the river had already begun to extend their holdings along the banks and into adjacent strips of fertile land, on the assumption that whatever improvements they had made would be granted to them. 38

These mirrored the unfenced, open farms of the first settlements along the Hawkesbury

River, where emancipist farmers regarded the adjacent bush and wetlands as extensions of their farms, that they could graze their stock on or cut timber for their homes. The attitude to the land reflected the ex-convicts belief, and the official intention of the first Governors, that the colony was intended for them and was theirs by virtue of having worked for it. A sense of entitlement to the land had arisen from this belief and attempts to restrict or reduce their access to it would be a source of tension and growing grievances in the Hunter through the 1820s and 1830s. 39

Dangar’s field books from late 1822 and early 1823 record the details of twenty of the first settlers along the river around Wallis Plains and the first collections of rudimentary huts, sheds and yards that had been erected on their river frontages. These were the survivors of Macquarie’s convict farmers. Most had a hut or cottage of wattle and plaster, three lived in weatherboard houses and one in a log cabin, each had pig sties and most had peach orchards and gardens. Some had developed a small farmstead with a collection of buildings. Benjamin Davis, on the land since 1814 but returned to Government service in

36 Henry Dangar, 28 March 1822, Letters to Surveyor General, SRNSW R3060 2/1526.1, p. 1. 37 Henry Dangar, Map of the River Hunter and its Branches , 1828. 38 Henry Dangar, 28 March 1822, Letters to Surveyor General, SRNSW R3060 2/1526.1, p. 1. 39 G. Karskens, ‘The Settler Evolution’, 7.

157 1816 on suspicion of harbouring runaway convicts (See Chapter 2), was recorded as having a weatherboard and plaster cottage, a log barn and a peach orchard, valued by Dangar at

£40. Mary Hunt, aka Molly Morgan, was a convict who had escaped back to

England in 1794 only to be re-transported in 1804 and then sentenced to Newcastle in

1816. She owned a wattle and plaster cottage, a stock yard with a four rail fence, a second hut with skillion addition, a fenced garden and a peach orchard. Richard Binder, sentenced to Newcastle in 1813 and given land on the Paterson River in 1817 had a weatherboard and shingle cottage, a cow shed, a thatched, log stable and lumber house, a thatched, log barn, pig sties and yards, a cow yard with five rail fence, a hut for convict workers, a peach orchard and a three rail fenced paddock. 40 Binder’s farm was the largest, equalling fifty nine acres (24ha). Dangar also noted the amount of fallen timber around these farms, evidence of the ongoing clearing of the bush and possibly associated with his earlier observation of the creeping expansion of some of the settlers here.

The first free settlers allowed into the valley were also on land around the Paterson River.

William Dun, with his wife and two children and four convict servants had taken a grant of

1300 acres, named Duninald, in December 1821, while James Phillip Webber was on his grant of 1500 acres, later named Tocal, by March 1822. Nearby John Brown was in residence on his 2030 acre Bolwarra estate before May 1822. Closer to Newcastle, John

Platt had erected temporary buildings on his land at Ironbark Hill in late February 1822. 41

As they moved inland, Dangar and his party were the first Europeans into many parts of the

Hunter. His report became a vital component of the choice of where to settle first and who would be able to select the land he recorded. However, the rugged nature of parts of the

40 Henry Dangar, Surveyor’s Field book 195, SRNSW 2/4839. Dangar’s descriptions of the improvements on land along the Paterson River and at Wallis Plains appear throughout the field book between pages 24 and 54. 41 Wood, Dawn in the Valley , pp. 21-22. For the reference to Bolwarra see The Australian , 28 February 1834 p. 3.

158 valley, a want of horses for the team and more fundamentally shoes for his men (who with no shoes, refused to proceed any further in August 1822) meant that the survey at times was slower than the demand for land. In places, new settlers had already established themselves prior to Dangar’s arrival, while in other areas, settlers disregarded his survey marks or did not “acquaint themselves with the nature of the sections”.42 As such, he was also called on early in the case of land disputes that began to manifest as more Europeans arrived to take up the land.

Land squabbles at St Patricks Plains Although Dangar’s field books do not give any details of settlement around St Patricks

Plains when he surveyed it in December 1822, his letters back to the Colonial Secretary and to the Surveyor General do include them. He found himself entangled in the middle of the beginnings of a feud over land that would last almost a decade. The protagonists were

John Howe, the explorer–settler, who was in possession of 700 acres of land and had been given permission to graze his cattle at St Patricks Plains, and the emigrant landholder James

Mudie. Mudie had arrived at St Patricks Plains in August 1822 with the promise of a 2000 acre grant. Having inspected the area and chosen a site with high and low land cut through by a creek, Mudie set about arranging for his convict workers to begin clearing the land, ploughing, planting and erecting buildings and stock yards. His intention was to erect an imported water-powered grinding mill on the creek running through his land. On his return to Sydney, he had made his intentions clear to the Surveyor General, John Oxley, and asked him to instruct Dangar to measure out his grant before anyone else could claim the site.

Mudie believed there to be no one else within 30 miles of the land he had selected and assumed the land was unoccupied and that his right to it assured.43 However his

42 Henry Dangar, 21 August 1822, Letters to Surveyor General, SRNSW R3060 2/1526.1, pp. 12-14.

43 Mudie to Goulburn, 25 January 1823, CSC, SRNSW, R6067, 4/1809, p. 12.

159 confidence was shaken when in December the Surveyor General John Oxley had asked him in a “laughing manner” what he had done to upset Mr Howe who had already written to Oxley complaining of Mudie’s behaviour and claim to the land. 44 Mudie claimed he had made his selection clear, Howe claimed his permission note from Macquarie gave him preference to first selection and so Danger was called in to sort it all out. Dangar confirmed

Mudie’s claim, but noted he had set out prior to the selection being marked on the charts, the same problem Dangar had identified in the lower valley. Settlement was moving faster than the bureaucracy could handle, and once people were on the land their sense of entitlement, in what they saw as an empty space waiting to be improved, was strong.

Mudie was further incensed by the fact that not only was Howe on his land, but other settlers were also moving in overland from Windsor. He fumed to the Colonial Secretary:

here I beg leave to observe that when I made inquiry of the men in charge of the

cattle to whom they belonged I received the most impertinent answers, however I

was able to learn that there were a number of men (even now prisoners) who had

cattle there & that some of them had no permission whatsoever but that they paid

10/- per head for their cattle grazing–and that the stock yard which Mr Howe

represents as his, was put up by a number of individuals, who have not less than

1200 Head of Cattle about 1000 sheep some pigs & horses & while I have been

obliged to go round by Newcastle at a very heavy expense and fatigue those people

have been going over land from Windsor with carts and even lately taken over a

large timber carriage. 45

44 Mudie to Goulburn, 25 January 1823, CSC, SRNSW, R6067, 4/1809. 45 Mudie to Goulburn 25 January 1823, CSC, SRNSW, R6067, 4/1809. Note the underlining is as per the original letter.

160 Howe had built a stockyard to corral the cattle under his charge, although he was still living in Windsor at the time. The stockyard was likely under the management of his exploring companion Benjamin Singleton who had advertised in the Sydney Gazette in December

1821 that he would take charge of any persons’ cattle at St Patricks Plains for 10 shillings per head per annum for a period no less than three years. 46 If Mudie had not seen this in his foray to the valley in August 1822, it suggests a rapid development by Howe, Singleton and his companions between August and December. The stockyard, probably the first major European structure erected in this part of the valley, represented the possession of the colonial space and the establishment of a commercial interest in the land that colonial born, emigrant and emancipist farmers alike used to assert their claims to the valley.

Mudie’s letter to the Colonial Secretary, running to over eight pages with an apology at the end for its length, identified a number of issues that would come to manifest themselves in the relationships of the newly arrived emigrants and the colonial–born and emancipist farmers. The Hunter was opening to Europeans on the cusp of change in the colonial attitude to land and access to it. Macquarie’s encouragement of emancipists and colonial born small farmers and settlers, based on the original notion for the colony as a place of small farms and the right to land after sentence, was being challenged by the post-Bigge reforms which favoured newly arrived, wealthy emigrants seeking large runs for cattle and sheep. Mudie’s shocked response to the fact that Howe was in possession of land that he already thought his own was deepened by the fact that other men, including convicts were also taking advantage of the land through agistment arrangements with Howe. Morisset had also noted the appearance of settlers at St Patricks Plains. In October 1822, while enquiring to the legality of the claim of the free settler John Rotton, who was heading there, Morisset asked the Colonial Secretary if permission had been given to anyone to

46 SG , 22 December 1821, p. 1.

161 settle in the area, as he was informed (possibly by Mudie) that several families were already settled there with wheat in the ground. 47 The middle Hunter Valley was a place where small-scale farmers then on Sydney’s north-western fringe and around the

Hawkesbury settlements could re-establish themselves on extensive alluvial plains, while avoiding the eye of authority by bypassing Newcastle.

The mode of travel to the Hunter by the different classes of settlers was also identified by

Mudie as an issue. While he and other “legitimate settlers”, as he saw them, had to first take a sea voyage, with all the expense, inconvenience and potential danger to get to

Newcastle, and then have to make arrangements for an overland journey to their grants, the likes of Howe and his convict neighbours could come straight overland from Windsor.

The journey was less expensive, more direct and could be made back and forth without delay and with stores, stock and supplies as needed. For Mudie and others heading inland from Wallis Plains, the journey was made longer because many of them also had to arrange for local Aboriginal guides to take them through the uncharted bush. 48

Morisset also complained to the Colonial Secretary, that just like the blazing of the trees through the bush between Windsor and the Hunter by Howe in 1820, and Middleton the following year, the clear cart trail that was appearing as more settlers moved inland also made it easy for absconding convicts. He noted that the path from Wallis Plains to Patrick

Plains, which in turn joined up to one leading on to Richmond was so well marked that it could not be clearer for those prisoners wishing to escape. This contrasts with Mudie’s need of an Aboriginal guide to lead him inland from Wallis Plains. 49 Morisset’s view of a

47 Morisset to Goulburn, 30 October 1822, CSC, SRNSW, R6067 4/1808, p. 284. 48 Mudie to Goulburn, 25 January 1823, CSC, SRNSW, R6067, 4/1809, p. 12. 49 Mudie was not the only settler to record using an Aboriginal guide within the Valley. John Brown of Bolwarra also used a guide, from which the naming of his property came. Robert and Helenus Scott also used a guide to find their way from Wallis Plains to their new grant at Glendon at Patricks Plains. Further discussion on the use of guides inside the Hunter is in Chapter 6.

162 clear path, easily followed by convicts, may hint at their growing familiarity with the bush in the Hunter. Convicts had learnt how to navigate the bush through their own explorations in timber gangs or as shepherds, rather than the existence of any well-made trail. In response to this issue, and in an attempt to exert a broader control over the flow of people across the mountains between Windsor and the Hunter, a system of passes was put in place for travellers on the road from February 1823. 50 Unlike passes issued to identify those ticket-of-leave holders who had permission to travel beyond the police district where the ticket was issued, the pass for the Windsor to Hunter Road applied to all travellers, free or convict, and all classes from the wealthy emigrants to the emancipists.

The passes were issued in Sydney, with the particulars of the travellers, what stock or animals they had with them (including brand markings for some of them), where they were travelling to and for what purpose were all recorded. If free settlers were moving, the passes also included the names of any convict servants they had with them. Between May

1823 and September 1824 at least 1660 head of cattle and 600 sheep were bought into the

Hunter via the road from Windsor according to the passes issued. 51 This does not include the numbers already reported by Mudie in January 1823. The passes were valid for between 7 and 21 days, depending on how far into the Hunter the group was travelling and whether they were returning to Windsor or not. An estimated four days was needed to get across the mountains via the track. 52

The restrictions on movement caused some resentment amongst the free emigrants.

Robert Scott, who had arrived in the Hunter with his brother Helenus in May 1823, wrote in his journal in October 1823:

50 Morisset to Goulburn, 25 February 1823, CSC, SRNSW, R6067, 4/1809, p. 24. 51 This figure is derived from an examination of 24 passes issued between May 1823 and September 1824 as recorded in SRNSW CSC, SRNSW, R6010, 4/3508; R6011, 4/3509; R6012, 4/3510; R6013, 4/3512. 52 ‘Anonymous Manuscript written by a free settler in the Maitland District in early1832’, Newcastle University Cultural Collections.

163 There exists at present a dreadful drawback on all these advantages [ at the

Hunter River ] but it can be removed at the pleasure of our rulers, I mean

the system of Government pressure there: it is entirely a prison: and when

one goes there it is like entering and subjecting oneself to the rules of

Newcastle: the commandant (without saying anything of the Governor) has

every power over you indeed of almost turning you out of your grant–

several applications have been made to allow settlers to take cattle to their

farms have been always refused. The Gov’t are afraid of giving the convicts

the facilities of escape…..Major Morisset is a very proper person for such a

Gov’t but certainly not to have command and so unlimited a one, over free

persons and men of character. 53

Although the restrictions on settlement in the Hunter were lifted from March 1824, with settlers allowed to proceed without government permission, the passes continued to be issued for the Windsor Road until at least September. 54

Status, authority and power James Mudie had come to New South Wales as a retired military officer, having served as a

Lieutenant in the marines between 1799 and 1810, when he was dismissed. 55 When later bankrupted after a failed scheme making commemorative Napoleonic War medals, Mudie had used his remaining connections to secure passage and a letter of introduction to get a grant in New South Wales. Mudie was not alone in using military or family connections in

England to facilitate their emigration to Australia. Robert and Helenus Scott had done so, their neighbour Dr James Mitchell did likewise, and William Dun had a letter from Henry

53 Portion of the Journal of Robert Scott, 14-17 October 1823 describing a voyage from Hunter River to Sydney , ML A2266, Item 6, CY Reel 1914. 54 Goulburn to Gillman (Commandant), 3 March 1824, CSC, SRNSW R6012, 4/3510, p. 430. 55 Bernard T. Dowd and Averil F. Fink ‘Mudie, James (1779-1852)’, Australian Dictionary of Biography, National Centre of Biography, Australian National University, http://adb.anu.au/biography/mudie-james-2487/text3345 , accessed 25 September 2013.

164 Goulburn in the Colonial Office, London. Mudie’s letter complaining of the presence of

Howe and others on his land played on these colonial connections, in order to exploit his supposed position in society. He reminded the Surveyor General John Oxley of conversations had in the presence of Sir Thomas Mitchell regarding his land. In the transitional colonial world of the Bigge Report where the rights, roles and influence of emancipists and children of ex-convicts was being challenged, Mudie as an ex-army officer, emigrant and free settler, assumed his status would prevail in the frontiers’ social hierarchy. 56

Status and social hierarchy were as important in the Hunter Valley as they were in Sydney or elsewhere in the Empire. Many of the newly arrived emigrant families came from the middle classes of Britain or were former officers in the military. They already knew each other and used these connections to establish themselves in their new ventures and homes. Military officers in particular used their connections, especially those who had served in the various theatres of the Napoleonic Wars. Edward Charles Close, the magistrate at Wallis Plains had been appointed by his former commander, Major James

Morisset, while his neighbours from the early 1820s included other comrades from his regiment Thomas Valentine Blomfield and Francis Allman. Allman served as the last of the military commandants at Newcastle from 1825. Allman, Close and Blomfield were settled within sight of each other near Paterson and Morpeth, with Blomfield initially requesting a grant adjoining his friend Close. 57 This core group of officers attracted other veterans and their families to settle in the Paterson, Morpeth and Maitland areas in the years to come, including Susan Ward, the widow of the veteran William Gordon Ward, who had died prior

56 K. Mackenzie, Scandal in the Colonies , Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 2004. See Chapter 2 ‘Claiming Status’ for a discussion on social hierarchy and Bigges’ report in Colonial NSW. 57 C. Wright, Wellington’s Men in Australia: Peninsula War Veterans and the Making of Empire c1820-40 , Palgrave Macmillan, Basingstoke, Hampshire, 2011, p. 55. Wood, Dawn in the Valley , pp. 25-26.

165 to being granted land in 1820. Susan Ward was granted 600 acres on the river at Paterson in March 1823 and was one of only two women granted land in the Hunter in the years prior to 1825. The other was the ex-convict Mary Hunt who had received her grant under

Macquarie’s scheme. William Ward’s army comrade, James Phillips with his wife and six children took up 2000 acres at Bona Vista, adjacent to Susan Ward, in September 1822. 58

Figure 10 : Susan Ward, one of only two women granted land in the Hunter Valley prior to 1825. W. W. Thwaites, 1845. (Source: SLNSW ML 694)

Social connections and allegiances had also been pivotal in the emancipist and colonial– born communities. As Mudie discovered, settlers like Howe also had some influence in the administration in Sydney. Oxley’s “laughing manner”, as Mudie described it, and his previous correspondence with Howe over the land dispute demonstrated Howe’s understanding of the mechanics of colonial society and hints at a friendship or familiar acquaintance with Oxley and others in the colonial administration. As a long term resident of the colony, Chief Constable at Windsor and an explorer, it is unsurprising that Howe was

58 Wood, Dawn in the Valley , pp. 24–26.

166 able to out-manoeuvre the newly arrived Mudie. As well as his connections in the administration, Howe had on-the-ground connections in the Hunter, as did other colonial- born and emancipist settlers heading overland from Windsor. All six of the free men from the second expedition Howe led in 1820, were on land at St Patricks Plains by 1824, and one of the convicts was farming there by 1828. 59

Of that 1820 exploratory party, it was Benjamin Singleton who held the most influential position. In February 1823, Morisset had recommended that Singleton be appointed as the first district constable for the area. Morisset had visited St Patricks Plains that month on the Governor’s request, possibly due to Mudie’s complaint letter in January. He reported that the area had “as much regularity as could be expected for a distant settlement”, but the appointment of a respectable resident as a constable would be advantageous.

Singleton, who was on his land and had a large family, was deemed the most suitable. A second constable would also be sent there to assist Singleton with capturing runaways and helping with the transfer of prisoners to the nearest magistrate, Edward Close. 60 Mudie’s disdain for Singleton and his role as constable would flare up in late 1823 as the two men clashed over Mudie’s treatment of his convict workforce and Singleton’s authority over free, emigrant settlers. This relationship is discussed in further detail in Chapter 7.

Singleton’s appointment as a district constable represented the spread of law and order out from the established settlements at Newcastle and Wallis Plains. However, as increasing numbers of settlers came into the Hunter throughout 1823, the limits of jurisdiction of the constables and the sole magistrate, Close, began to be tested. Each of

59 H. Dangar, Index and Directory to the Map of the Country Bordering upon the River Hunter ; the lands of the Australian Agricultural Company; with the ground plan and allotments of King’s Town, New South Wales, British Library Historical Print Collection London, 1828, pp. 8-9. Malcolm Sainty and Keith Johnson (eds), 1980, Census of New South Wales, 1828 , Library of Australian History, Sydney. 60 Morisset to Goulburn, 25 February 1823, CSC, SRNSW, R6067, 4/1809, pp. 24-24c.

167 the three settled districts, Wallis Plains, Patersons Plains and St Patricks Plains had one

District Constable and one Bush Constable, most often a reliable convict. The district constable supervised the district generally, dealing with disputes and issues between settlers, while the bush constable was responsible for pursuing absconding convicts and bushrangers, as well as guarding and transferring prisoners to the magistrate or to

Newcastle. Close was constantly concerned over a lack of direction given to him from

Morisset or from the administration in Sydney. In September 1823 the settler Joseph

Pennington, walked into the valley from the upper Hawkesbury with 20 head of cattle and eight convict servants to settle on 1500 acres on the Williams River, close to the junction with the Hunter. Pennington sent one of his convict labourers downstream to Newcastle to be placed in the gaol on charges of insubordination and blasphemous language. 61 Morisset referred the matter back upstream to Close as the local magistrate, advising Pennington that as the Commandant he was not concerned with settlers’ men. But Close did not have any direction on his own authority in the matter. As Pennington’s convict, John Hurst, was a bonded man, he was unsure if he could discharge him and have another assigned or if he should punish Hurst or indeed have him sent to Port Macquarie. 62 Hurst was returned to

Pennington, later absconding with four others from Pennington’s farm in 1825. 63

Close was being increasingly called on to deal with issues arising amongst settlers and their convicts. Seeking clarification of his magisterial powers, he wrote to the Colonial Secretary in December 1823 with a series of questions, each of which gives an insight into to the day- to-day issues with which he was confronted. Close wanted to know if he could punish convicts without reference to the criminal court, as was the established practice and could he send prisoners to Port Macquarie without reference to headquarters? He asked if he

61 Permit to travel for Joseph Pennington, 17 May 1825, CSC, SRNSW R6010, 4/3508, p. 325. 62 Close to Goulburn, 29 September 1823, CSC SRNSW R 6067, 4/1809 p. 98. 63 SG , 13 January 1825, p. 4.

168 could punish recaptured absconding convicts with 100 lashes, which he had been doing up until that time. This was double the recommended number allowable by a single magistrate under Governor Macquarie’s instructions. Outside these issues of authority,

Close was being overwhelmed by settlers bringing their convicts from outlying districts such as Patricks Plains, wanting to get them down to Newcastle when they were sick or for sentencing and punishment. With no passable roads between Wallis Plains and Newcastle, these prisoners were transported by boats, which had to be requisitioned from the settlers at Wallis Plains because of a lack of government boats. To add to his concerns, when six or more prisoners were to be transported in such a manner, his lack of constables meant they could not go together–some had to be housed at Wallis Plains in a small wooden hut, where none of his constables were armed with guns. At times the one roomed hut was so full of prisoners that the guards had to sleep outside. 64

Close followed his letter to the Colonial Secretary by writing directly to Governor Brisbane.

He told Brisbane that since he had been appointed as magistrate the Hunter Valley had changed from being one with a confined population to “an extended and troublesome district”. As the population had grown, Morisset had put all responsibility for the entire up- country area on Close but had not forwarded any regulations or orders as to how he was to police the population. Close was reduced to reading the Sydney Gazette for instructions regarding his powers, and, as he had no clerk he was forced to write and respond to all correspondence himself. During the second half of 1823 the population grew so much that the country was being overrun with free labourers, emancipist labourers, sawyers and

64 Close to Goulburn, 6 December 1823, CSC, SRNSW, R 6067, 4/1809 p. 120. Also Wood, Dawn in the Valley , p. 38. Punishment records for the earliest years of Close’s term as magistrate no longer exist. However later Newcastle Bench Books indicating punishments and who administered them show Close sentenced two convicts to Port Macquarie in June and August 1824, with one also receiving 100 lashes, and three more to Port Macquarie in January, June and July 1825. See Newcastle Bench Books, ML MSS 2482/4. No record of any response to Close from the Colonial Secretary has been found.

169 fencers. According to Close, these men rarely agreed with their employers over contracts and adjudicating in their private disputes was taking more time than they were worth. To add to his problems, he was not paid in his position as magistrate and was left with no time to manage his own estate or supervise his men which was leading to his own problems with discipline. 65

When Close was appointed magistrate in March 1822 the only farms were around Wallis

Plains. By May 1823, the total number of free landholders and families was approximately

95, 30 men and 65 women and children, living on 33 farms with 179 convicts assigned to them. 66 By the end of 1823 there were 102 non-convict men, including free immigrants, colonial–born, emancipists and those holding a ticket-of-leave. As those taking up land in the valley were instructed to select land within the area already surveyed, the location of these farms roughly followed the areas marked out by Dangar. The most sought after spaces were those along the alluvial flat lands fronting the principal rivers, and so all of the early farms were located in clusters on the banks of the Hunter and Paterson Rivers in the lower valley, or along the Hunter River around the St Patricks Plains in the middle valley, with later farms spreading along the rivers between these two settled areas. River flats on the Williams River, although of equally good soil, were less popular in the early years as they were considered to be more exposed to Aboriginal attacks and opportunistic raids by runaway convicts heading south from Port Macquarie. 67

The Valley fills up Settlers continued to arrive in ever-increasing numbers throughout 1823, 1824 and 1825.

By the end of 1825, the valley’s population was above 1580 people, stretching from

65 Close to Brisbane, 11 December 1823, CSC, SRNSW, R6067, 4/1809 p. 121. 66 Carol Baxter (ed), General Muster List of New South Wales 1823, 1824, 1825 , Society of Australian Genealogist, Sydney, 1999. Also, Account of Maize due by Settlers on the Banks of the Hunter River May 1823, CSC, SRNSW R6067, 4/1809, p. 71c 67 Perry, Australia’s First Frontier , p. 66.

170 Newcastle up through Wallis Plains and Paterson Plains, along the Williams River to Nelson

Plains, and following the Hunter River inland to Patricks Plains and beyond to the outpost of Merton, near present day Denman . Beyond Merton, where the valley became narrower and steeper it was still sparsely occupied by Europeans at this time. Nevertheless land had been selected along the entire length of the Hunter River, into the valleys around the Pages

River, Dart Brook and Kingdon Ponds and south into the Wollombi valley along the southern reaches of Wallis Creek around the present location of the city of Cessnock, and on the edges of the Broken Back Range. Gaps in grants in this period corresponded with poor soil, such as land between Fal Brook and the Goulburn River, or in the narrow upper reaches of the smaller valleys that ran off of the tributaries on the main rivers. 68 One settler, James Greig, writing to his brother from his new farm close to the junction of the

Hunter and Goulburn River in November 1826 explained that:

I am in expectation of receiving an extra grant of land but shall be able to inform you

first time I write you, its distance you will be a little surprised I have gone so far up

the River for my land but you may easily conclude that the best land is on the Banks

of the River. 69

Greig was almost at the fringe of permanent European settlement at this time.

Between the years 1821 and 1828 the valley was transformed by the clearing of forests and the cultivation of the estates for crops. On that portion of land not under crop, cattle and sheep were grazed with the numbers of both exploding into the tens of thousands within a few years. Table 1 shows the increasing areas cultivated, cleared and grazed over this period. 70

68 Perry, Australia’s First Frontier , p. 67. 69 James Greig-Letters to John Anderson and Andrew Kettie in Scotland 1824-29. 70 Perry, Australia’s First Frontier , Table 2-6, pp. 131-132

171 Year Total Area Area Area Cleared Cattle Sheep Granted Cultivated (acres/hectares)

1821 638 acres 472a (191ha) 165a (66 ha) 236 376 (258ha)

1825 67,798a 2552a 3453a(1397ha) 4495 8919 (27,437ha) (1033ha)

1828 537,488a (217, 11,348a 24,537a 46,805 119,391 513ha)* (4592ha) (9930ha)

Table 1: Total area cleared and cultivated, with cattle and sheep numbers 1821-1828. *Does not include the A. A. Co. million acre grant. (Perry, pp.131-132)

The rapid increase in cattle and sheep and the amount of cleared land coincided with a prolonged drought between 1826 and 1829. Crops failed across the entire district, with pastures bare and farmers either moving stock or culling them. Overstocking in the Hunter

Valley was a major factor in the first forays over the ranges onto the Liverpool Plains in search of new grasslands by the likes of Benjamin Singleton in 1826, and remained a factor through the 1830s and 1840s. 71 In 1847, G. B. White, noting the change in the landscape and the environment caused by herds and flocks, commented in his diary that “Jerrys Plains is much altered–it used to be an open plain abounding in water holes–it is now fenced in and looking dry and arid”.72

Most of the stock was owned by newly-arrived free emigrants, as the restriction on land grants to emancipist and ticket-of-leave men meant that the majority of land holdings were now large scale estates. In 1828 there were 191 farms in the Hunter, of which 91 exceeded

1000 acres in size. Only two of these were owned by ex-convicts, and both were less than

3000 acres.73 Indeed, of the 39 ex-convicts who were recorded as landholders in 1828, 15

71 Rolls, A Million Wild Acres , pp. 71 and 84. 72 George Boyle White, 19 September 1847, Extracts from the Diary of GB White, Assistant Surveyor, Singleton 1845-47, National Library of Australia [hereafter NLA], MS 3217. 73 One of these is Joseph Onnis, transported in 1803 and grazing cattle at Patricks Plains under the watch of Benjamin Singleton in 1823. By 1828 he held 1650 acres at Patricks Plains, with 25 acres

172 had farms between 100 and 1000 acres while seven owned farms that were between 50 and 100 acres and twelve had less than 50 acres. 74 While it was an unquestioned position that ex-convicts would have convicts assigned to them on the same basis as free emigrants, in the years after the Bigge report, convict labourers were typically assigned on the basis of the ability of the master to provide for them, meaning most went to the larger estates and wealthy farmers. 75 Ex-convicts were often reliant on family to work their land or had just a few convicts to assist them. The reliance on family for small land holders was itself a problem as many of these workers did not in fact have a family to fall back on. The majority of the population in the valley was male and of these most were convicts still under sentence. After 1825 their chances of succeeding on the land were reduced even further with the end of land grants to emancipists (and emigrants without capital) following the recommendations of Bigge’s report. Ten years later, new regulations restricted convict assignment to those with a minimum of 20 acres. The difficulties faced by ex-convicts in establishing and maintaining a farm meant that for most former convicts it was easier and more profitable to work as wage labourers for others, which almost 80% did by 1828. 76

Of the 1582 people recorded in the 1825 muster as living in the Hunter, only 242 were women or female children, 55 of whom are recorded as being the wives of convicts, ticket- of-leave convicts or emancipist farmers, 37 were in service to the Government or assigned to settlers and 41 were free settlers married to free men. 77 By 1828 the ratios of men to women had not improved. The total Hunter population stood at 3,225, of which only 465 were women or female children over 12 years of age. Of these, 364 had come free or been

cleared, 15 under cultivation, 505 cattle and 15 horses. Sainty and Johnson, Census of New South Wales 1828 . 74 Perry, Australia’s First Frontier , Table 14, p. 138. 75 Hirst, Freedom on the Fatal Shore , pp. 79–81 76 J. Kociumbas, The Oxford : Possessions 1770-1860 , Oxford University Press, Melbourne, 1995, p. 135. Hirst, Freedom on the Fatal Shore , pp. 91-92. 77 Analysis of 1823-1825 Musters.

173 born in the colony. Of a total of 447 former convicts, 51 were women, while of the 1,858 convicts still in servitude, only 50 were women. Within the 193 family groups recorded there were 338 children under the age of 12 (See Table 2).78

As these figures demonstrate, male convicts made up the greater proportion of the population throughout the 1820s. In 1825 the 964 convicts in the Hunter equalled 60% of the total population. If holders of tickets-of-leave and conditional pardons and expirees are included, the number increases to 1,224 or 77%. By 1828 there were 1,858 convicts

(male and female), equalling 57%, rising to 2,305 or 72% when ex-convicts are included.

In the census of 1836, 4,021 convicts were living in the valley, equal to 45% (compared to an overall 36% of the total NSW population). This did not include emancipists who were counted in the free population. By 1841, where the distinction between the different categories of freedom was made, out of 18, 668 occupants, 5,175 or 28% are convicts under sentence, rising to 7,888 or 43% with emancipists included (See Table 2). While this shows an overall reduction in the proportion of convicts to free settlers over the period, almost half the Valley’s population was still a convict or ex-convict when transportation of convicts to NSW ended in 1840.79

78 W. D. Borrie, The European Peopling of Australasia: A Demographic History 1788-1988 , Australian National University, Canberra, 1994, Table 2.6 pp. 32-33. 79 Abstract of the 1836 Census, NSW Government Gazette, Government Printer, Sydney, 1837,pp. 83-85; Abstract of the 1841 Census, NSW Government Gazette, Government Printer, Sydney, 1841.

174

182 5 1828 1836 1841

Free men 185 556 3128 5560 12% 17% 35% 30%

Convict Men 908 1808 37 54 4768 57% 56% 42% 26%

Emancipist Men 218 396 Included in free 2200 14% 12% men for this 12% year

Free Women 144 364 1883 5025 and children 9% 12% 21% 27%

Convict women 56 50 267 407 3% 1.5% 2% 2%

Emancipist 42 51 510 Women 3% 1.5% 3%

Blank in census 30 2%

Total 1582 3225 9032 18, 470

Table 2 : Total numbers and percentage of free, convict and emancipist population in the Hunter Valley 1825-1841 (Census and Muster analysis by author).

In his work on the Tocal Estate on the Paterson River, Brian Walsh has shown that around

25% of the convicts assigned there from 1822 until 1840 married in New South Wales, most after they received their ticket-of-leave or at the end of their sentence. About another 25% lived with a partner but were not married, meaning around half of the convicts were in some type of domestic arrangement in the years after their service at Tocal. 80 However, due to the gender imbalance across the Hunter, many of Tocal’s convicts actually married into the next generation of arrivals, to women 20 and 30 years younger than themselves.

This was likely a common result across most of the estates in the Hunter Valley, which, as

80 B. P. Walsh, Heartbreak and Hope, Deference and Defiance on the Yimmang: Tocal’s Convicts 1822-1840, Thesis Doctor of Philosophy, University of Newcastle, 2007, p. 266.

175 Walsh argues, highlights the often overlooked fact that convict men were not just labourers but also husbands, partners and fathers. While some achieved a level of success on the land, or running small businesses, most used the skills that they had learnt at Tocal to work on the surrounding estates or in the fledgling settlements close to their original place of assignment.

Until mid–1824, the only true urban settlement in the Hunter Valley was Newcastle, which had progressed from a rude collection of convict huts and associated penal infrastructure, to having been officially laid out as a town in 1823 by Dangar. The new town was on a formalised grid pattern fronting the harbour and superimposed over the former convict development. The main road extended from the Government Wharf on the harbour to the

Commandants Residence that overlooked the settlement. There were six parallel north– south streets, intersected by three east–west streets. In the first year 47 allotments were taken up with 75 granted by 1827. 81 By 1827 Newcastle boasted a church, parsonage, police magistrate’s residence, surgeon’s quarters, court house, subaltern officers’ quarters, commissariat store, military barracks, hospital, gaol, mining manger’s residence, windmill and a fort at the harbour entrance. There were approximately 30 private houses and around 200 residents. Leases for the allotments were made on a 21–year basis, with the understanding that if the leaseholder erected a house worth more than £1000, they were entitled to a grant in fee-simple, or freehold, to the allotment. 82 Most of those who took up the opportunity for allotments in the first few years were landholders of larger estates inland in the Hunter who built town houses and stores to house their farm produce or supplies for sale.

81 J. F. Campbell ‘The Genesis of Rural Settlement on the Hunter’, JRAHS , Vol. XII, Part II, 1926, 109- 111. 82 Dangar, 1828 , Index and Directory , p. 28.

176

Figure 11 : Joseph Lycett view across the town of Newcastle in 1818, showing the beginnings of the settlement with its neat rows of convict huts, a prominent church and lighthouse, signal station and administrative buildings. Note the hunting party and their Aboriginal guide returning to the town in the foreground. (Source: Newcastle Art Gallery)

From mid–1824 the nucleus of two small villages were beginning to form further inland at the main areas of settlement around Wallis Plains/Green Hills area and St Patricks Plains, being East Maitland/Morpeth and Singleton respectively. A wharf, store for grain and cattle yards had been built at Wallis Plains by James Mudie in late 1823 around which the settlement had started to grow. Wallis Plains had enough people by July 1824 to warrant a regular boat service from Newcastle, running twice a week on Tuesdays from Newcastle and Friday from Wallis Plains. 83 By October 1825 a general store, run by Sydney merchants

Powditch and Boucher, was in business on the river at Wallis Plains under the management of their agent John Stronach, who had arrived free in 1822. Powditch and Boucher also ran a regular boat service to Newcastle for their customers. Stronach was listed in the 1828

83 SG , 29 July 1824, p. 1.

177 census as a baker with three horses and 53 head of cattle but no land allocated. His livelihood was based not on the produce from any farm or estate but rather on the provision of goods to those other settlers around him, and as such, he may represent the first town dweller in the Hunter outside of Newcastle. 84

Figure 12 : Morpeth in 1835, showing two river trading ships, with the one in the background moored adjacent to warehouses fitted out to take in the produce of the Hunter Valley. (Source: NLA pic-an4563834-s17)

At Patricks Plains, Benjamin Singleton had established a small inn at the ford across the

Hunter in 1826, providing a rest spot for travellers. In 1827 his brother Joseph took over the premises, by which time it was known as the Plough Inn. 85 While this inn provided a

84 SG, 31 October 1825, p. 3. 85 Account of Hunter’s River, Letter IV, The Australian , 10 February 1827, p. 2.

178 focus for travellers it had not then attracted much more development. A visitor to the premises noted that:

Patricks Plains by reason of the extent and fertility of the land, is capable of

supporting a very thick population, and some day or other must be a place of

great consequence. At present there is neither magistrate, school nor medical

man–the nearest doctor being forty miles away. 86

Perry notes that while Singleton’s inn was popular and that he ran a ferry capable of transporting carts and heavy loads across the river when it was running high, the township at this time was “embryonic rather than real”. 87 There was however enough of a population to warrant a racecourse and an annual race day from July 1826. Out of the four races run at the first meeting, Benjamin Singleton and his daughter won one each. 88 As

Atkinson has shown in his study of the growth of Camden south west of Sydney, inns, mills, stores and stock yards formed focal points around which communities grew. As living places they became primary points, which attracted new development, creating a pattern of growth that became more intricate with each passing season. An interdependence of buyer and seller, producer and consumer encouraged further economic activity, which in turn provided an alternative to farming for new arrivals or ex-convicts with no land. 89

Although populations were starting to grow in valley settlements, those in the middle and upper reaches, above the limits of navigation remained relatively isolated from each other due to bad or in some places non-existent roads. The roads had formed as a series of cart tracks linking the various estates back to the head of the navigable section of the river. The open nature of the country inland from Wallis Plains meant that roads were not a priority

86 Account of Hunter’s River, Letter IV, The Australian , 10 February 1827, p. 2 87 Perry, Australia’s First Frontier , p. 72. 88 The Australian , 26 August 1826, p. 2. 89 Alan Atkinson, Camden: Farm and Village Life in Early New South Wales , Australian Scholarly Publishing, Melbourne, 2008 (2 nd Ed), p. 42.

179 for the first years of European occupation, as carts could make their way across the grasslands and between widely spaced trees with little difficulty. Where roads were made,

Henry Dangar described the method thus:

The first settler, or party of settlers, proceeding with their men, teams, and

baggage into any new and distant country, having, as is usual before made a

journey to such, and having obtained every information the Crown surveyors of

the district can give, he or they, on entering upon the journey, keep two or three

men following the carts, and with axes mark the trees, by fractures in the bark,

denoting the route the carriages pursue. This done, the settler’s men can

proceed back with the teams, and get up their second loadings without any

apprehension of losing the road; and thus, in a short period, the track is so

beaten. 90

In this manner, roads radiated out from Wallis Plains towards Patricks Plains and other districts, but did not connect the to any inland settlements. The land between Newcastle and Wallis Plains was dominated by swamps, marshes and boggy land, leaving the river as the most direct and convenient route between the two settlements.

To make the journey overland from Newcastle still more inconvenient, those roads and tracks that did exist through the country ran across areas granted to settlers and were often blocked by fences and gates. The appearance of fences paralleled the increasing numbers of free emigrants after 1825, as they defined their new properties. It reflected a transition from an earlier settlement pattern when farms were smaller and more isolated and the need for fences was not considered. 91

90 Dangar, Index and Directory , p. 59. 91 ‘Grand Juries Report, Quarter Sessions Newcastle’, The Monitor , 25 August 1826, p. 4.

180

Figure 13 : A sketch by E . C. Close of a settler clearing and fencing his land near Wallis Plains. For emancipist farmers or small scale native born settlers much of the work of readying a plot for planting had to be done by themselves with little assistance from a convict workforce. (Source: SLNSW PXA 1187)

As well as the increasing numbers of man-made barriers, once the traveller arrived at

Wallis Plains there was no bridge across the river before September 1827, meaning that if it had recently rained or the river was in flood, travellers could only cross by boat. 92 Further inland roads were still to be formed as late as 1827. James Greig wrote to a friend in

Scotland in November 1826:

The Roads in the County are not yet made so as to communicate from distant

places with the Metropole or even with the nearest town with Carts but they are

in progress from Newcastle towards my place however there is a good substitute

92 Grand Juries Report, Quarter Sessions Newcastle, The Monitor , 25 August 1826, p. 4. James Jervis, ‘Settlement at Wallis Plains and the Maitlands’, JRAHS , 1940, Vol.26, Part II, 178.

181 namely a fine River free from any danger, by which the population send their

grain or heavy commodity to Newcastle, and sell these or send them to Sydney by

water which is seventy two miles… 93

Roads connecting the settlement areas, however rough, did bring an increasing sense of permanency to the Hunter. They formed the links of a developing commercial web internally in the valley, as well as the supply routes back to the river port at Green Hills

(Morpeth). The embryonic townships with their inns and stores attracted people, particularly former convicts who had been granted tickets-of-leave. As the ticket restricted their movement beyond the districts in which they had been issued, any work that they might seek needed to be near at hand and the developing communities presented these opportunities. For those ex-convicts who did not have any land or the capital means to acquire some, the surrounding estates and farms provided a source of employment. In the years when convict labour was sufficient for the estates, primarily until the mid–1820s, opportunities for ex-convicts was limited, but as the valley continued to fill, more work became available. Opportunities for those with little capital also began to attract people born in the colony. This is illustrated in the census data from 1828 which shows a growing number of trades and services appearing in the Hunter. The brothers George and Richard

Yeoman with their young wives, all colonial born, were running a farm of 220 acres as well as an inn in Wallis Plains. William Wrenahow and Ralph Cooper, emancipist sawyers with no land were both living at Wallis Plains, as was Thomas Wright a freed convict stonemason, and James Fallen, a plasterer, free by servitude with just 40 acres to farm.

Presumably these men were engaged in clearing and building work on the estates and farms in the surrounding district, as well as in the growing community around John

Stronach’s store. At Patricks Plains the colonial–born Edward Bailis worked as a blacksmith.

93 James Greig-Letters to John Anderson and Andrew Kettie in Scotland 1824-29, ML DOC 2316.

182 The census showed him as owning two cows and 20 sheep but no land, so it is again likely that he worked around the estates as required, with his livestock acting as a type of living bank account and being agisted on someone else’s property. 94

People like the Yeomen brothers, Stronach and Bailis represented the beginnings of an emerging middle class of free, independent workers who were neither indentured convict labourers nor wealthy land holders. In his study on Bathurst between 1818 and 1848, Ken

Fry argued that a “middle class” formed in that area from the later 1820s as an additional group between the master/servant class structure, as former convicts, native born and emigrants moved into retail and service provision. These trends can be seen in the Hunter

Valley during the same period.95 For those ex-convicts and emancipists who transitioned into this new social group, a source of income or capital was an essential factor. Many had acquired this through the sale of their own labour in the years during and after the end of their sentences. This was particularly the case amongst the semi-skilled rural workers such as fencers, ploughmen or carpenters, whose trades gave them the greatest opportunity to work on the estates and farms. For those with a plot of land, like Fallen, the opportunity to transcend their servant class status was further enhanced as it allowed for the acquisition of stock and the selling of any surplus produce.96 By 1841, this new class of store keepers, publicans, stock agents, dealers and tradespeople, although comparatively small numerically, was emerging as a significant demographic across the growing towns and villages of the Hunter. 97

94 Sainty, Census of NSW 1828 (various entries). 95 Ken Fry, Beyond the Barrier: Class formation in a pastoral society–Bathurst 1818-1848 , Crawford House Press, Bathurst, 1993, p. 171. 96 Fry, Beyond the Barrier , p. 226. 97 See E. Guilford (ed), Hunter Valley Directory: 1841 , Hunter Valley Publications, Newcastle, 1987, pp. 8-17. Guilford identified approximately 293 storekeepers, brewers, publicans, bakers, tailors, dealers and other assorted small scale tradespeople.

183 The growing settlements were served by increasing numbers of newly appointed constables, bush constables and magistrates. Robert Scott had been appointed as a magistrate at Patricks Plains in 1824 and John Reid was appointed the following year at

Luskintyre, between Patricks and Wallis Plains. Further inland, Peter McIntyre, agent to

Thomas Potter Macqueen and manager of his estate at Segenhoe, requested and was appointed a magistrate in 1825. McIntyre saw the role of the magistrate as one of security, not only against the roving bands of bushrangers and runaways, but also to help the smaller settler keep their own convicts in “subjection”.98

Not everyone who was approached accepted an appointment as a magistrate. In 1827,

Thomas Blomfield of Dagworth near Morpeth, formerly an officer in the 48 th Foot, and close friend of Edward Close and Captain Francis Allman, was asked to become a magistrate. Although he acknowledged that the position would increase his respectability he refused, telling his sister Louisa that:

Having seen the great trouble that magistrates are constantly exposed to,

and from the ignorance of the laws of my country, I declined it. No doubt it

adds to the respectability of a man in the eyes of the lower classes, but I

should have been constantly exposed to an action at law through some

confounded blunder or other. 99

Although Peter McIntyre’s view displayed his opinion of the place of convicts in the society, the growing numbers of constables and magistrates did provide a sense of order and protection for the isolated farmer. The increasing semblance of stability afforded to the small settlements by the extension of the law, attracted people to the district to settle,

98 McIntyre to Governor Brisbane, 3 September 1825, CSC, SRNSW, R6068, 4/1813, p. 103. 99 T. V. Blomfield, Memoirs of the Blomfield Family: being letters written by the late Captain TV Blomfield and his wife to relatives in England , Craigie and Hipgrave, Armidale, 1926, p. 33.

184 which in turn attracted those who could profit from the provision of goods and services.

The emancipist Henry Reeve was an example of what could be achieved in these burgeoning towns. Transported in 1825, Reeve was assigned to Peter McIntyre at

Segenhoe, where he worked primarily as a bullock driver. Being semi-literate and a trusted servant, Reeve was supported by McIntyre’s successor Henry Semphill, who encouraged him to marry one of the estate’s servants, Mary Grenville. Semphill then took them into his

Sydney household where they both got their tickets-of-leave. Returning with Semphill to

Segenhoe and then to Belltrees Estate nearby, Reeve was awarded his conditional pardon in 1841, after which he and Mary moved to West Maitland where he took ownership of the

Albion Inn. Over the next eleven years until his death in 1852, Reeve established a coaching service, first from his inn to Morpeth to meet the steamers, and then to Patricks

Plains, where he also ran the mail coach. He built up a sizeable stable of racehorses, ran a livery business from the inn, and a stud, eventually owning more than ninety horses. In

1846 he established the Maitland Jockey Club which operated from the rooms of his Albion

Inn. In 1847 he purchased the larger Fitzroy Inn close by, relocating his stables, his stud and the Jockey Club. His business sense was shrewd enough to survive the droughts and economic downturn of the early 1840s by bartering stud services for the produce of the local farms. 100

100 K. Binney, Horsemen of the first frontier (1788-1900) and the Serpent’s legacy , Volcanic Productions, Neutral Bay, 2005, p. 288.

185

Figure 14 : Henry Reeve, emancipist businessman and stud owner. Reeve was an example of the opportunities that could come from the growing towns of the Hunter in the 1830s and 1840s, W. W. Thwaites, 1847. ( Source: SLNSWP2/506)

Many convicts had in fact been urban or town dwellers prior to their conviction, with large numbers having been transported from London, Manchester, Lancashire or Dublin. 101 The growing villages, even with their basic public utilities and infrastructure, were familiar places for them. However they also had the potential to amplify a social class differential where the emigrant landholder saw themselves at the top of the hierarchy, followed by colonial born landholders, down through emancipists to the convicts themselves. 102 As the population rose and the stakes over land and property grew, these class tensions began to increasingly manifest themselves.

101 L. L. Robson, The Convict Settlers of Australia , Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 1976, pp. 10-29. 102 Richard Waterhouse, The Vision Splendid: A Social Cultural History of Rural Australia , Curtin University Books, Fremantle, 2005, p. 33.

186

187 Chapter 5

We have taken possession of their land–Aboriginal Dispossession and Resistance

In November 1825 The Australian newspaper reported the murder of a white settler in his hut in the district of Patrick’s Plains, as well as the disappearance and presumed death of his stockman. Two settlers, Mr Forsyth and Mr Allen, had called at the hut of John Greig only to find him dead and his stockman missing. Greig, who had arrived in the colony from

Scotland eighteen months earlier, was described as a respectable and industrious man who had been reading Robert Burn’s poetry at the time of the attack. Two other stockmen were speared soon after and a third narrowly escaped the same fate after wrestling with his attacker. The settlers of the outlying upper Hunter Valley were said to be in a state of fear, and the anxiety was such that ten soldiers had been despatched from the garrison at

Newcastle to quell the violence and protect them. 1 While the newspaper had got Greig’s name wrong - the victim was Robert Greig, the cousin of settler James Greig - the details of the incident were otherwise correct, and this attack marked the start of a period of intense and destructive violence in the middle and upper Hunter.

Recent scholarship on the Australian frontier has paid increasing attention to the conflict and violence between Aboriginal people and European settlers, posing the question, was there war on the frontier? Military historian John Connor argues that it was war, with two sides battling through force of arms to defend territory, each using force to compel their enemies to conform to their own will. Connor makes the point that war itself is an expandable term, descriptive of multiple types of conflict. 2 Henry Reynolds notes that

1 The Australian , 10 November 1825, p. 3. 2 Connor, The Australian Frontier Wars , p. XI.

188 many nineteenth century commentators and participants in the conflict regarded it as war, that the ongoing skirmishes across all areas of the colonial frontier were a series of battles in a wider war. The Aboriginal dead were therefore killed in combat, not murdered, although this analysis did not apply so much to Europeans killed by Aboriginal attacks. 3 In

Tasmania, Lyndall Ryan has shown that the extreme violence that was experienced during the same period as the attacks in the Hunter was a war, directed by Governor George

Arthur, and carried out in a ruthless and methodical fashion by soldiers and settlers alike.4

Bill Gammage has similarly described as war the frontier violence that erupted in the

Riverina district of New South Wales around Narrendera on the in the

1830s between squatters and the Wiradjuri. 5 But, as Karskens has asked in regards the war on the Cumberland Plain in the years before 1816, what kind of war was it, where combatants often knew each other by name, had lived in close proximity in some cases for years?6 Similarly in the Hunter Valley the violence flared up after years of relatively peaceful co-existence, with each incident erupting out of particular circumstances.

When Greig and his man were killed, free settlers had been farming in the Hunter Valley for four years. Despite the steady increase in the European population and the inexorable expansion inland, prior to 1825 there had been few reported incidents of violence against settlers or their farms. Most of the attacks which did occur were isolated, individual clashes, primarily involving runaway convicts. As discussed in Chapter 2, the commandants and military authorities had utilised the threat of violence by Aboriginal groups towards runaway convicts as a means of control in the penal station. Convicts who were captured and returned, some of who had been speared, were paraded in front of the assembled prisoners as a stark warning of the potential consequences of escape. Meanwhile,

3 H. Reynolds, Forgotten War , NewSouth, Sydney, 2013, p. 78. 4 L. Ryan, Tasmanian Aborigines: A History since 1803 , Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 2012, pp 87-105. 5 Bill Gammage, Narrandera Shire , Narrandera Shire Council, Narrandera, 1986, p. 49. 6 Karskens, The Colony , p. 449.

189 Aboriginal groups who returned runaway convicts were rewarded with food, tobacco and

European tools such as metal hatchets. The system instilled the idea of Aboriginal people as savages in the minds of many of the convicts held at Newcastle and in the Hunter Valley, an idea that is likely to have spread beyond the penal station into the wider convict population. The incidents that had involved settled farms were by contrast dominated by the taking of maize by small groups of Aborigines during the harvest. However this was balanced by the involvement of other Aboriginal groups in helping with harvest in return for some of the crop. 7 In the eyes of the European farmers, such as Helenus Scott at

Glendon, the Aborigines could make themselves “some times very useful and at other times troublesome”. 8

Initially the establishment of European farms did not seriously impinge Aboriginal movements across the country. In the first months and in some cases years after establishment, few of the estates had fence lines or enclosed lands, with large areas of the surrounding forest remaining uncleared. Aboriginal food sources were maintained to some degree, with access to grey kangaroo, possum, bandicoot and other small mammals and reptiles still available in the forests and across the open grassland, as were the freshwater mussels from the river and its tributaries. 9 Yams were a staple through the valley, growing in the alluvial soil close to the river, with the seeds of the Zamia spiralis , berries of the

Exocarpos cupressiformis or Native Cherry also included in the diet. 10

However increasing numbers of European livestock, growing areas of cultivation and

European farms along the rivers did begin to compromise traditional food sources by the

7 Evidence of Morisset to Bigge, 17 January 1820, BT Box 1, 40104, p. 479 8 Letter Helenus Scott to Augusta Scott (sister), 8 May 1824, Scott Family Correspondence, ML A2264. 9 Examples of these animals as food items have been recorded in archaeological deposits in the middle and upper parts of the Hunter Valley. See Moore, 1981, ’Results of an archaeological survey Part II’, 401. 10 Brayshaw, Aborigines of the Hunter Valley , p. 75.

190 mid-1820s. European hunting of kangaroos and emus with dogs for sport disrupted this food source, scattering mobs from their feeding grounds. Flocks of sheep tended by shepherds and herds of cattle let loose in the bush gradually trampled native pastures.

New settlers now ensconced on their grants, worked to clear the land, erecting huts and planting orchards while their convict servants built fences, systematically locking in land parcels. Their growing sense of entitlement and ownership appears to have worked to harden their views on an Aboriginal presence in their neighbourhood. So, soon after many of these settlers had utilised the skills of Aboriginal guides and interpreters, they were putting in place measures, often threatening or violent, to exclude Aborigines from the very country they had led them through. Evidence of extreme violence and depravity committed by European settlers and their convict servants were seemingly overlooked in the quest to secure land and property.

Skirmishing on the edges While much of the violence that ensued occurred in the middle and upper Hunter, a sense of threat and unease had existed from the first years of settlement. In 1822, Edward Close the magistrate at Green Hills (Morpeth), recommended the deployment of a post of soldiers to the First Branch of the Hunter, now known as the Williams River, as had already happened at the Paterson River and Wallis Plains to “protect those persons who may choose farms there against the Black Natives who are very savage at present”. 11 Close, like many of the Europeans, held the view that a show of force would soon change the behaviour of any Aboriginal groups that threatened the settler community.

Around Newcastle, clashes with settlers were also being reported from 1824. Newcastle had been what historians such as John Connor refer to as a “beachhead frontier”, an outpost of settlement on the coast with few free settlers and a restricted access to

11 Morisset to Goulburn, 28 July 1828, SRNSW CSC, SRNSW, R6067, 4/1808, p. 185.

191 firearms. As such, it did not impose a large presence or assert a significant impact on the land and the Aboriginal people who lived there. Until the mid-1820s, Aboriginal people still had control over most of their land and they could avoid Europeans if necessary. 12 But by

1824 the landscape of settlement was changing. The footprint was expanding through land grants and the alienation of land which increased the potential for dispute and violence as

Aboriginal people were discouraged from access or excluded from the traditional land altogether.

In December 1824, John Platt, settler at Ironbark Hill, now Sandgate, on the Hunter River near Newcastle, complained to the Colonial Secretary about being harassed by Aboriginal raids on his property. Platt and his family had arrived in February 1822 as one of the first to take a grant in the Hunter and by May 1823 he was the second largest supplier of maize to the government stores in the region, supplying 1090 bushels from his farm. 13 His house and mill sat atop rising ground overlooking the river, the land cleared down to the water’s edge and planted with wheat and maize. In December he approached the Colonial

Secretary for assistance having lost his entire crop, his barn with the wheat harvest, his farm implements, some livestock and two haystacks to a fire. The cause of the blaze was not stated and may have been accidental or deliberately lit by a disgruntled convict. But it may also have been a targeted attack by Aboriginal people, as this was a well-documented tactic against the late summer crops and Platt already had an uneasy relationship with local people. 14 This was the third crop he had lost, having had the previous two crops of maize taken almost completely by Aboriginal raids on the ripening heads, “notwithstanding the severe example” he had made of several of them. 15 It was not just Aborigines who had

12 Connor, The Australian Frontier Wars , p. 34. 13 Account of Maize due by Settlers on the Banks of the Hunters River, CSC, SRNSW, Reel 6067, 4/1809, p. 71c. 14 Connor, The Australian Frontier Wars , p. 42. 15 Platt to Goulburn, 11 December 1824, CSC, SRNSW, R6068, 4/1811, p. 199.

192 been raiding Platt’s farm though. In November 1822 he reported being robbed by two runaways from Port Macquarie and by absconding men from the Newcastle settlement.

Whether he made a severe example of any of them is unrecorded. Platt’s severe example, although not specifically stated, is likely to be an oblique referral to having shot at, and probably killed or wounded a number of the raiding party. If so, it may explain the return raid in the summer to burn his crop and property in payback.

At the same time, raids were also being carried out on the maize crops on the Scott’s property, Glendon, at Patricks Plains. In May 1824, Helenus Scott wrote to his mother about the ongoing trouble they were having, with bread stolen from the convict labourers’ huts and the corn taken from the field. Robert Scott caught one Aboriginal man and held him as a prisoner, making him work for the day before sending him off in the evening. The hope was that he would tell his companions and warn them not to steal from the Scott’s farm. 16 As Helenus did not mention any more raids in his frequent letters to his mother, the tactic may have succeeded.

Some other settlers took more drastic measures to protect their crops. In November 1824, the convict Michael Fox was shot in the thigh by a spring-form gun, set up and hidden in the corn field by the settler John Powell. Powell had set notices around his farm warning people of the presence of the gun but Fox, who was assigned to a neighbour and had been shown the public path through the farm the week before by Powell, had entered the corn field nevertheless. Powell’s erection of notices suggests the gun was set as a trap for

Aboriginal raiding parties who would have been less likely to have been able to read the notice. 17

16 Helenus Scott to Augusta Scott, 8 May 1824. 17 Deposition of John Fawcett, 9 November 1824, CSC, SRNSW, R6068, 4/1811, p. 174.

193 Maize ripened in the autumn months, and raids on the ripening crop had been a feature of colonial farming since the 1790s. In areas like the Hawkesbury, the approach of the harvest had signalled an increase in the likelihood of hostilities as Aboriginal groups moved in to reap the produce of the settlers’ farms. 18 Aboriginal people, with a tradition of sharing food resources, and the understanding that the crop was growing on their land, may have harvested the maize as a combination of food gathering and resistance to European appropriation of their country. Some historians argue that raids on the crops of European settlers were a tactic in their resistance, as Aboriginal people understood the economic importance and the reliance that settlers had on their crops. Corn or maize was easy to take and could be eaten without the need to grind it like wheat. With enough maize, large parties of raiders could stockpile and live off the takings and could keep up their attacks on settlers without needing to collect traditional foods. 19 James Backhouse observed in 1843 that many of the farms grew only enough to support themselves. Any crop raid on such a farm would make it difficult for settlers to remain on the land with no food to support them. 20

As a local magistrate, Robert Scott was increasingly involved in investigating reports of attacks by Aboriginal groups on farms and isolated settlers. In August 1824, he ordered the

District Constable John Earl of Patricks Plains to apprehend the Aboriginal man known as

Jerry. Jerry had reportedly stolen one of George Blaxland’s dogs from his property Perley near the junction of the Hunter and the Goulburn River, during which a “serious encounter” had occurred. Jerry had also allegedly been involved in an assault and robbery of an unarmed and unnamed boy, which, Scott told Earl, was the second serious offence of which he was guilty, although Scott did not elaborate on what had been the first. A reward

18 Karskens, The Colony , p. 458. 19 Connor, The Australian Frontier Wars , p. 40. 20 J. Backhouse, (1967 reprint), A Narrative of a Visit to the Australian Colonies , Hamilton, Adams and Co, London, 1843, p. 394.

194 of four dollars was offered for the capture of Jerry, who was said to belong to the “Patrick’s

Plains tribe”, the generic name given by the Europeans to those Aboriginal people living in the vicinity of the Patricks Plains settlement, around Fal Brook to the northwest and

Glendon to the east. Earl was also cautioned on ensuring the correct Jerry was taken in, there being a number of men of the same name. When detained, he was to be transferred to Wallis Plains to face the bench. 21 Although Scott had already decided on his guilt, Jerry was not caught by Earl at this time.

Throughout the rest of 1824 and for much of 1825, reports of clashes between Aboriginal and Europeans quietened down in the Hunter as trouble with bushrangers increased, but by the end of 1825, conflict with Aboriginal groups were once more on the rise and appeared to be escalating beyond the levels previously experienced. Reports of clashes between Europeans and Aborigines in the districts around Bathurst in 1824 had heightened tensions and nervous fears in the Hunter Valley, particularly amongst the settlers in the upper valley who were the most isolated from the population centres and garrisons. The violence in the west between Europeans and Wiradjuri had raged through 1824 and culminated with Governor Thomas Brisbane stationing 75 soldiers of the 40 th Regiment at

Bathurst and declaring martial law in August. A series of clashes between the troops under the command of Major James Morisset, formerly the Commandant at Newcastle, the killing of 16 Aboriginal men at Mudgee by William Cox’s overseer and two other stockmen, and disruption caused by the need for constant relocation through fear of attack, combined to force the Wiradjuri to sue for peace in October 1824. 22 The terrible violence that had swept through Bathurst was feared in the Hunter in late 1825 as rumours spread that bands of Wiradjuri from the Mudgee area had linked up with Hunter groups and led a

21 Robert Scott to John Earl, August 1824, Supreme Court Miscellaneous Correspondence Relating to Aborigines, SRNSW, COD 294A, 5/1161, pp. 38-40. 22 Connor, The Australian Frontier Wars , pp. 58-60.

195 series of attacks on isolated outposts in the mountainous country around Wollombi on the southern edges of the Hunter settlements including a raid on Joseph Onus’ property where food and clothing were taken. 23

Resistance, reprisal and payback Soon after the reports of attacks around Wollombi, the farm of Francis and Archibald Little at Invermein in the middle Hunter, and Peter McIntyre nearby at Segenhoe, were both raided - maize crops were the main target. Both the Littles and McIntyres defended their farms, with John McIntyre, brother to Peter, pursuing the raiders into the hills that surrounded his property. Here the Aboriginal raiding party took up a strong position on high ground and forced McIntyre back by rolling rocks and boulders down on him. This was the same tactic used against Benjamin Singleton during his attempts to find a way through the mountains from Windsor in 1818. 24 These raids were followed up by a series of attacks and robberies on isolated travellers on the main road above George Bowman’s

Ravensworth estate and again around McIntyre’s farm, where a dray was attacked despite the driver being armed with a blunderbuss.

The violence escalated with the killing of Robert Greig and his unnamed convict servant.

While the reports of the attack in the metropolitan newspapers purported to know no obvious cause for the killing, the local magistrates sent to investigate wondered if it was due to Greig’s known aversion to having Aboriginal people around him. 25 Peter

Cunningham, writing the year after the event, claimed that the attack was carried out by a man known as Nullan-Nullan, translated as “the beater”, which is probably a derivative of

23 Milliss, Waterloo Creek , p. 54. 24 Report of Magistrates Mr Scott and Mr McLeod, 3 October 1826, Governor’s Despatches, ML, Volume 8, A1197, p. 340. Also see Chapter 3 for an account of the attack on Singleton’s party. Rolling rocks as a tactic had also been used along the Hawkesbury in 1804-05 and again around Camden in 1815-16, see Karskens, The Colony , pp. 486 and 505. 25 Report of Magistrates Mr Scott and Mr McLeod, 3 October 1826, Governor’s Despatches, ML, Volume 8, A1197, p. 341.

196 nulla-nulla, the Aboriginal word for club. According to Cunningham, Nullan-Nullan had approached in a friendly manner before gliding behind Greig, who sat reading his Robert

Burn’s poems, and striking him down with a club. Early local historian W. A. Wood wrote in

Dawn in the Valley that the magistrates were under the impression that it was James Greig, the owner, who was the victim of the attack and it was him to whom they referred as having an aversion to the Aborigines. Unless they were referring to a case of mistaken identity, this is unlikely, as their report was compiled almost twelve months later, after numerous incidents of violence in the region, and with James Greig still very much alive.

This error was repeated more recently in Milliss’ Waterloo Creek and Connor’s Australia’s

Frontier Wars .26 Writing to his brother in Scotland, James Greig himself said that he could not tell the exact cause of the attack. Robert had been sober since his arrival in New South

Wales and was enjoying hunting and fishing in the river that ran through the farm. But

James had been told by another friendly Aboriginal man that Robert had taken a man and beaten him, which had “irritated the tribe he belonged to, and caused Robert Greig’s untimely end”.27 In a letter to a friend in Scotland, written on the same day, he explained the situation further:

Although the Black natives are by no means hostile, yet are always very

revengeful when injured by any white person, the first that they meet with

are sure to meet with their resentment. I am sorry to inform you that Mr

Robert Greig of Lochgelly has fallen a victim to their resentment. 28

26 P. Cunningham, Two Years in New South Wales , volume 1, 2 nd Edition, 1827 p. 197. Wood Dawn in the Valley p. 115; Milliss, Waterloo Creek , p. 55; Connor The Australian Frontier Wars , p. 64. It is worth noting that the magistrates report did not identify the persons involved, although names of men involved in later attacks were made known. Cunningham’s source for the name is unknown. 27 Letter James Greig to his brother, 11 November 1826, ML, Doc 2316. 28 Letter James Greig to Andrew Kettie, 11 November 1826, ML Doc 2316.

197 The evidence for Greig’s violence was further reinforced by the missionary Lancelot

Threlkeld, then stationed at Newcastle, who told Attorney General Saxe Bannister that he had heard Greig struck the Aboriginal man and attempted to drive them away from the land. 29 From James’ own impressions, it would appear that Robert was the target of the attack, made more apparent by the fact that it occurred while James was away from the property on business in Sydney. As Reynolds has shown, raids on isolated farms, particularly those carried out for revenge or retribution, were often accompanied by periods of close surveillance, as appears to have happened on Greig’s isolated property. 30

If it was due to Robert’s violence against a local man, it is unlikely the raiding party mistook him and he was not the random victim of a vengeful attack in retribution of another’s wrong doing. James’ letters suggest he had some understanding of the laws of retribution amongst local Aboriginal groups and was on reasonable terms with them which may suggest they waited for him to leave before attacking. This is hinted at further in the fact that although the hut was reportedly plundered, his sheep were left unmolested in his paddock, watched over by his Scotch collie. 31

Following the attack on Greig’s property, the Aboriginal raiders withdrew into the mountains to the south, a move the magistrates and later Cunningham described as a retreat made in dread of the European reaction. Two more European shepherds were attacked, one of whom was killed. The potential for an escalation of the violence was not helped by the party of soldiers sent from Windsor to Putty to intercept the raiders. Instead they encountered and killed several members of what was later discovered to be a friendly

Aboriginal group.32

29 Gunson (ed), Australian Reminisces , p. 91. 30 Reynolds, The Other Side of the Frontier, p. 105. 31 Cunningham, Two Years in NSW , p. 197. 32 Cunningham, Two Years in NSW , p. 198; Milliss, Waterloo Creek , p. 55.

198 Although reported by Cunningham as a retreat, the attacks around Putty may have been something quite separate to what was playing out in the Hunter, events with roots reaching back into earlier clashes and deaths. In early January 1839, George Bowman wrote a brief account of his recollections of the violence in the Hunter in 1825 at the request of Robert Scott, who was being called to testify before a Legislative Council committee on the “Aborigines Question” in Sydney in October 1838. As Bowman remembered it, the wounded shepherd was found by his own overseer and men as they drove sheep along the road from Windsor to the Hunter. The man was “in a speechless state, his head crawling with vermin in the wounds received from the blacks”. 33 Bowman told Scott, what he “supposed and believed to be true” from information related to him from other Aboriginal contacts, that in 1816, the two men had been instrumental in capturing some of the men on Governor Macquarie’s list of ten Aboriginal leaders wanted for their involvement in attacks along the lower Hawkesbury River. Bowman remembered that the military had not attempted to take prisoners “but shot all they fell in with and received great praise from the Government for doing so”. He recalled that two or three of the Aborigines amongst those named in the list had been bought up in European families from their infancy but had become desperate murderers. 34 This list had included Myles, who had guided John Howe’s party into the Hunter in 1820. 35 Nine years had passed before the men involved in the killings on the Hawkesbury had been paid back.

The unrest prompted the deployment of soldiers from Newcastle into the upper Hunter district. Ten men, accompanied by bush constables, headed inland in June 1826, where several Aboriginal men identified as being involved were caught. But all of them managed to escape. While the troops were out, George Forbes’ Edinglassie estate was attacked,

33 Bowman to Scott, January 5 1839, Indigenous Peoples File: Correspondence on Black Natives, Upper Hunter 1826, Singleton District Historical Society. 34 Bowman to Scott, January 5 1839, Singleton District Historical Society. 35 See Chapter 3.

199 sheep were killed and a shepherd speared through the shoulder. The magistrate, William

Ogilvie, whose estate at Merton was close by, set out with a “friendly” Aboriginal man and together they managed to find the raiders and negotiate the return of items taken from a hut on Forbes’ property. 36

One man, known as Billy, identified as one of those involved at Forbes’ estate, was apprehended and taken into Newcastle gaol. 37 A few days later a stockman working on the nearby Ravensworth estate of Dr James Bowman was attacked and stripped in the bush.

He was killed two days later, along with another stockman in their hut. The attacks were reported in the newspapers as contributing to a growing sense of fear and unease in the upper Hunter. For those on the small, isolated farms and the lone convict shepherds in the bush, this fear was understandable. 38 However, the attacks did not appear to constitute an all-out assault on the Europeans, but were rather targeted, payback raids.

Troops, posses’ and massacres To assist the troops, who moved on foot, a detachment of the newly–formed mounted police was also sent into the Hunter and rode inland in late June. The mounted police had been formed after the violence around Bathurst – it was noted that mounted troops could more easily pursue fleeing Aboriginal bands then could foot soldiers. The new unit was a military force, manned by soldiers on regimental pay, but with the cost of the horses and equipment borne by the colonial government. 39 Half the unit was sent to Bathurst in

November 1825 to operate against bushrangers, while the other half, commanded by

Lieutenant Nathaniel Lowe, was sent to Wallis Plains in February 1826.

36 The Australian , 17 June 1826, p. 2. 37 Report of Magistrates Mr Scott and Mr McLeod, 3 October 1826, Governor’s Despatches, ML Volume 8 A1197, p. 342. 38 The Australian , 24 June 1826, p. 3. 39 Connor The Australian Frontier Wars , p. 62.

200 The ability of the mounted police to respond quickly to reports of violence or attacks made them a particularly effective fighting unit on the open plains of the middle and upper

Hunter. However the violence did not stop immediately on their arrival. A few days after the attack on Dr Bowman’s stockman, James Chilcott’s hut, on Fal Brook a few kilometres east of Bowman’s, was raided by Aboriginal warriors. Chilcott managed to drive off the attacking force, after physically wrestling with a man named Cato for a musket. Afterwards two men working on fences at Bowman’s Ravensworth were attacked by the retreating body of warriors, one wounded by seven spear thrusts. 40

In late July and early August, rumours started to seep out of the interior of Aborigines killed

“in peculiar circumstances” while in the custody of Lowe’s mounted police. 41 Threlkeld, now at his new mission on Lake Macquarie, wrote to Saxe Bannister in Sydney reporting what Aborigines at the mission and those coming in from the mountains were saying about what was happening in the upper reaches of the Hunter. Rumours of shootings and hangings raced through the communities, and bands of warriors were said to be massing in the mountains ready to attack across the entire valley. 42 On hearing the stories and having some confirmation from Allman in Newcastle, Governor Darling ordered an investigation into the circumstances by the local magistrates Scott and McLeod. Although Darling had been given a despatch from the Colonial Office prior to his leaving for Sydney in 1825, stating that Aboriginal incursions were permitted to be opposed by force and to repelled as needed, which was employed in full in Tasmania, the actions of Lowe went beyond what was considered acceptable. 43 Darling wrote to Earl Bathurst in London that while there could be no doubts as to the “criminality of the natives” it was no justification for “the

40 Wood, Dawn in the Valley , p. 116. 41 Robert Scott, 25 August 1826, Supreme Court Miscellaneous Correspondence relating to Aborigines, SRNSW, COD 294A, 5/1161, Items 378-867, p. 60 42 Gunson, Australian Reminiscences , p. 92. 43 Ryan, Tasmanian Aborigines , p. 82.

201 massacre of prisoners in cold blood as a measure of justifiable policy”. 44 Darling trusted the reports to be unfounded, but the rumours proved to be true and once fully known sparked the worst of the violence in the valley.

When the inquiry yielded few details as to the full extent of the violence, or the causes behind it, Darling ordered Allman to convene a second investigation by the local magistrates Robert Scott and E. C. Close, during which Lowe and his troops gave their version of events in a series of depositions. According to them, around August 12, Lowe’s detachment of mounted police, travelling with local settlers including John Lanarch of

Patricks Plains and James Glennie, captured an Aboriginal man whom they suspected of being involved in the attacks on the Bowman estate and those of his neighbours. The man was tied with cord to the pommel of one of the trooper’s horses and led through thick bush in pursuit of the remaining party. Lanarch testified that the man volunteered to lead the troops, but in the thick brush he would deliberately walk on the opposite side of a tree to the side the horse was going, causing them to be tangled and delayed three or four times.

The man appeared increasingly uneasy, until they came on a clearing where Bowman’s fencers had been attacked, the blood still clear on the ground and sheets of bark scattered around. Lanarch interpreted the man’s unease as proof of guilt and remarked that he seemed to know of the spearing. It is possible he did know of the spearing, but his growing unease may as easily be attributed to being tied to an armed trooper on a mission. In the bloody clearing the man pointed in one direction and then another to show where the raiders had gone. Then he tried to escape but was shot down. As a warning to others, his body was hung over the fence and left there. 45

44 Darling to Bathurst, 6 October 1826, Governor’s Despatches, ML, Vol. 8, A1197, p. 288. 45 Deposition of Mr John Lanarch, 6 October 1826, Re: Aboriginal Outrages 1826, ML, Government Despatches, Vol. 8, A1197, p. 324.

202 In retrospect, Lanarch’s assertion that he volunteered to lead the troopers appears disingenuous. A letter from Threlkeld to the Attorney General in August 1826 strengthens the suspicion that Lanarch was not telling the full truth of the incident. Threlkeld visited the hospital in Newcastle and spoke to the wounded fencer, who confirmed that he had been chopping wood when a spear hit him in the back. The fencer ran but was set upon by an Aboriginal man who beat him with a cudgel. The following day, soldiers appeared at his hut with a captured Aboriginal man, whom he recognised as one of the group, but not the one who had thrown the spear or attacked him. Despite this, the soldiers took the man outside, tied him to a tree and shot him, leaving the body trussed up at the spot of execution. 46

Sometime after this, the troopers encountered a party of Aborigines and in the ensuing action took a number of them as prisoners. Although no accurate figure is recorded at least seven men and boys were captured. The group was tied up like the first prisoner and then led back to Chilcott’s farm via Bowman’s, where they were identified as the men involved in the raids in June. On their way back down the river towards Wallis Plains the captives managed to loosen their bindings and made to escape. Three were shot.

However, whether this occurred in one place, two places or three places depended on which trooper was giving evidence. What was clarified was that Lowe, having experience on the frontier around Bathurst, had instructed his men that if any prisoner attempted to escape they were to be shot. If they did not fire Lowe would be compelled to bring the troopers to trial for not doing their duty. 47 Sergeant Moore claimed the three were shot together as they escaped into the brush where the mounted police could not follow.

46 Threlkeld to Attorney General, 21 August, 1826, Supreme Court of NSW, ‘Memoranda selected from 24 years of missionary engagements in the South Sea Islands and Australia by LE Threlkeld 1838’, SRNSW, NRS 13705, COD 554, 5/1123, p. 46. 47 Deposition of Lieutenant Nathanial Lowe, 6 October 1826, Re: Aboriginal Outrages 1826, ML, Government Despatches, Vol. 8, A1197, p. 304

203 Private John Lee remembered one being shot escaping and then the other two in similar circumstances. Private James Fielding recalled that every effort was made to get the escaping men to return before they were fired on; while Private George Castles reported that the three were shot in different places and circumstances where they could not be followed by the troops. 48 All denied reports that Aboriginal prisoners had been hung in a tree by the troops, although Fielding said one of them may have been hung up after they left. John Lanarch testified that Lowe’s men had hung the body of one of the Aboriginal prisoners on the farm as a terror to the others. 49

One of the men in custody was Cato, identified as the main assailant at Chilcott’s farm.

James Glennie testified that on being taken to Chilcott’s farm, Cato refused to cross the creek and was forced on by soldiers beating him with the flats of their swords. Glennie left the group at his own farm, where three of the youngest captives were released. Soon after he reported hearing a single pistol shot as Cato was killed. 50

As terrible as it all was, the actions of the troops were seen by the metropolitan newspapers in the context of the supposed outrages against settlers, and the justifiable actions of those attempting to bring prisoners in difficult and confusing circumstances. But the report of the magistrates did not cover all the details that were emerging out of the bush. Reports from Aboriginal people escaping to the sanctuary of Threlkeld’s mission told of even darker tales of executions and torture. The inconsistencies of the first magistrates report, followed by further obfuscations in the second enquiry and the urging of Threlkeld’s letters to Bannister resulted in Darling ordering a third investigation. After a false start,

48 Deposition of Sergeant Lewis Moore, John Lee, Jams Fielding and George Castles, 6 October 1826, Re: Aboriginal Outrages 1826, ML Government Despatches Vol. 8 A1197, pp. 308-320. 49 Deposition of Mr John Lanarch, 6 October 1826, Re: Aboriginal Outrages 1826, ML Government Despatches Vol. 8 A1197, p. 325. 50 Deposition of James Glennie, 6 October 1826, Re: Aboriginal Outrages 1826, ML Government Despatches Vol. 8 A1197, p. 329.

204 Acting Attorney General W. H. Moore travelled to Newcastle and Wallis Plains in January

1827 before reporting to the Executive Council in Sydney. 51 By then it was hardly a secret that terror was a weapon employed by the Europeans against the Aboriginal population. A report in The Australian by a “wandering” anonymous correspondent in the Hunter in

February 1827 explained some of the methods used by settlers:

We saw the skull of a black fellow who had been shot dead with a pistol

ball, in the act of making his escape from a party of police. The respectable

settler in whose house it is preserved, suffers it to remain carelessly on a

table or shelf opposite his door, and the blacks who look on it with a

superstitious dread, will hardly come near the house much less enter it; the

skull acting as a powerful talisman to keep them off at all hours. 52

The depositions from Allman’s enquiry had hinted at some of the other goings-on. In denying that any Aborigines had been hung in the trees, the troops alerted the enquiry to one of the more disturbing rumours previously reported to Threlkeld. Moore sought

Threlkeld’s opinion on the events that had taken place as he understood them, as he had little information himself, not even the names of any of the victims. Through his own

Aboriginal informants, Threlkeld replied to Moore with three incidents of which he had heard. The first was the reported execution of a man at the gaol in Wallis Plains, later identified as Jackey Jackey, who had been caught in relation to the killing of Bowman’s stockman. At the gaol, Jackey Jackey had been tied between two saplings, whereupon

Lowe, the officer in charge, ordered his men to fire their muskets. Standing behind Jackey

Jackey the men fired, with the first shot hitting him in the back of the neck, the second in the face as he turned to look at the soldiers, the third missing and the fourth being the

51 Wood, Dawn in the Valley , p. 131. 52 The Australian , 17 February 1827, p. 2.

205 killing shot delivered at close range. His body was then buried behind the privy of the government house, before being disinterred and moved to avoid detection. Threlkeld had sent his servant to interview a witness to the event. In the magistrates’ enquiry there had been a passing mention of a man being shot with no further details, while the second enquiry had not mentioned this incident at all.

Threlkeld’s second example was from a sergeant involved in the capture of three Aboriginal men. While sheltering from the rain on Threlkeld’s verandah at his Newcastle house, the

Sergeant, with two Aboriginal captives, told him that a third had been shot near the river while escaping. A servant of a Mr Cobb, either George or his brother James Cobb at

Anambah near Lochinvar, had told Cobb, who in turn told Threlkeld, that the soldiers had wanted to shoot the Aboriginal man at the farm and throw him in the river, but the servant had begged them not to as they drank from that water. 53

The third of the reports related to the alleged hanging. Again at Bowman’s, a man was taken during the pursuit of those involved in the spearing of the stockman. This man was bought in to Bowman’s, where a rope was secured around his neck and he was forced to climb a nearby tree and tie the rope to a branch. The Europeans then proceeded to fire their muskets at him, wounding him twice before he fell and was left hanging in the tree.

Threlkeld said that the person who supplied the rope had told his informant of the incident. 54 This was not the first report of Aboriginal people being hung in the trees in the district. In July 1826 Threlkeld had been told by McGill, one of his interpreters, that a man caught stealing corn had been shot and hung in the trees with the corn cob stuck in his

53 Gunson, Australian Reminiscences , p. 95. 54 Gunson, Australian Reminiscences , p. 95.

206 mouth as a warning to others. 55 Indeed the hanging of Aboriginal warriors had also been employed as a tactic of terror along the Hawkesbury in the 1790s and at Appin in 1816. 56

Reigniting the Violence Lowe’s atrocities appeared to have succeeded in subduing the attacks and by mid-July

Allman was reporting no acts of violence in the previous few weeks and that Lowe’s

“exertions” gave reason to hope for no more. 57 But this was not to be. If anything, Lowe’s tactics inflamed the situation and united large bodies of warriors across the upper Hunter.

On August 8, Threlkeld wrote to Saxe Bannister again, warning him that an Aboriginal man had come to the mission on Lake Macquarie with news that a large number of Aborigines was gathered in the mountains around the upper Hunter. They were threatening to descend into the valley and burn all the houses of all the Europeans unless the man Billy was released from the Newcastle gaol. They were worried that Billy would be shot like

Jackey Jackey. 58

In the last week of August the assembled war parties appeared at Merton, a property close to the junction of the Hunter and Goulburn Rivers. Mary Ogilvie was in the house with her children when approximately two hundred warriors appeared on the hills behind the farm.

The previous day two mounted police had enticed some local men onto the farm on the pretence of acting as guides in the search for bushrangers. When they approached the soldiers seized one, named Jerry, who was suspected of being involved in the killing of the stockman at Forbes’ property. 59 Mary Ogilvie intervened and convinced the soldiers that

Jerry was not involved and he was released. As Robert Scott had warned Constable Earl two years earlier, there was more than one Aboriginal man known as Jerry and care

55 Gunson, Australian Reminiscences , p. 92. 56 Connor, The Australian Frontier Wars , p. 51. 57 Milliss, Waterloo Creek , p. 55. 58 Gunson, Australian Reminiscences , p. 92. 59 Foley to Condamine, 22 September 1826, ML Government Despatches Vol.8 A1197, p. 372.

207 needed to be taken in apprehending him. Apparently fearing the anger of the local

Aboriginal groups, the mounted police decamped in the night leaving the property undefended. This was the second incident at Merton in as many weeks. Two boys had been arrested in mid-August for killing cattle, and despite Mary’s insistence that they worked for the family and were not involved, the boys, Tolou and Mirroul, had been taken down to Newcastle. 60

With William Ogilvie away in Sydney on business, Mary came outside to speak with the two hundred “painted and armed” warriors. They were led by Jerry, wrapped in a possum skin cloak and unarmed except for a nulla-nulla stuck in strips of fur around his waist. In a display of the intimacies of the colonial frontier, the Ogilvies’ young son and daughter, who were playing outside, did not bother to run on the approach of Jerry and his band, as they knew him as a friend and he shook their hands as he walked towards the house. Mary was also confident of their safety and approached the group with her eldest son William, to ask why they had come armed to the farm. Jerry, angry at his own treatment, was suspicious as to why Tolou and Mirroul had been taken when Mary had enough influence over the soldiers to ensure his own release. William, who had learnt the local language, explained that his mother had tried to get the release of the two boys, but the soldiers had taken them in the night and without his father around there was nothing they could do. He asked

Jerry if his father had ever treated him unjustly, to which Jerry replied no. At this, Jerry turned to the assembled warriors and declared the Ogilvies had done no wrong and the group returned to their camp. 61 Before departing though they had brandished their weapons and told Mary to tell the soldiers never to come meddling with “Master Ogilvie’s

60 Wood, Dawn in the Valley , p. 122. 61 Mary Bundock Memoir, Papers of the Bundock Family of Wynagarie, , ML A6939, p. 7.

208 blacks”. 62 On his return from Sydney, William Ogilvie senior travelled to Newcastle and secured the release of the two boys. He later informed Allman that he did not fear any further hostility despite there still being large groups of warriors in the vicinity of Merton.

The story of Mary Ogilvie’s standoff with Jerry and his warriors was quickly reported in the newspapers. The Australian praised Mrs Ogilvie’s “great degree of resolution”, while Peter

Cunningham writing in 1827 remarked that it was:

A fine instance of intrepidity, and of the influence of female power over the

minds even of rude savages…when Mrs Ogilvie, rushing fearlessly in among

the brandished clubs and poised spears, by the firmness and

persuasiveness of her manner, awed and soothed them into sentiments of

mercy… 63

Considering that the clashes being reported across the upper Hunter from late 1825, and the growing anger and frustrations of the Aboriginals and Europeans caught up in the experience, Mary Ogilvie’s actions could well be considered to be fearless. However the

Ogilvie’s experience also demonstrated the intimate nature of the frontier. The knowledge of language, the personal friendship with Jerry, the intervention on his behalf and the trust between the two groups all combined to defuse the potentially deadly confrontation.

Just a few days later, on August 28, another group of approximately 15 Aboriginal men gathered at the hut of Richard Alcorn, overseer for Captain Robert Lethbridge on the

Bridgman estate at Fal Brook. The small hut stood just over 800 metres along the creek line from Chilcott’s hut, and it was typical of the back country workers’ huts of the period, with two rooms, one large outer room with a fireplace and a smaller inner room with a

62 Cunningham, Two Years in NSW , p. 199. 63 The Australian , 9 September 1826, p. 3. Cunningham, Two Years in NSW , p. 199.

209 bed. There was a single entry door and three windows, two in the large and one in the small room. The doorway had no door and the windows no glass or shutters. 64

Around midday, John Woodbury, a servant to Thomas Cullen at Pitt Town who was minding

Cullen’s cattle on agistment at Fal Brook, arrived at Alcorn’s hut to find the Aboriginal men already there. Alcorn’s wife Charlotte, her baby daughter Sarah Jane and young son

Richard were inside. Woodbury sent the boy off to fetch two men working nearby, while

Charlotte offered the assembled group some kangaroo to eat, which they took and roasted on a fire set for the purpose. Young Richard, who had been followed by one of the

Aboriginal men, soon returned with the two men. Asking for bread and maize, a few of the gathered warriors came into the hut, but Woodbury reported they showed no signs of violence in word or action at this point. At around 4pm, Richard Alcorn arrived at the hut and on recognising three men believed to have been involved in the raid on Chilcott’s hut, decided with Woodbury that it was not safe having so many armed Aboriginal men around the huts and told them they had to go. Woodbury testified that at this point, the three men called out and those at the fire rose and advanced on the hut. The Europeans dashed for the inner room for their muskets, while Charlotte, the baby and Richard junior got under the bed for protection.

With no door and no shutters the hut was particularly vulnerable to attack and soon enough spears were coming in through the openings. Before Woodbury could discharge his musket he was struck with a spear in his hand, forcing him to drop the weapon while he dragged out the spear. Henry Cottle, one of the workers, was struck in the left side and fell dead. As Woodbury regathered his musket the second man, Morty Kernan was also hit with a spear while firing from the inner doorway. Spears continued to fly in through the doorway and the windows, as Woodbury and Alcorn fired back out. As the shot for the

64 Deposition of John Woodbury, ML Government Despatches Vol.8, A1197, p. 357.

210 muskets was in the outer room, both men were firing only with powder, hoping to fool their attackers into thinking they had lethal weapons. With spears exhausted the

Aboriginal raiders began throwing large stones, one of which struck the wounded Kernan in the head and killed him.

In desperation, Alcorn had tied a bayonet to a long pole and used this improvised pike to thrust out at the Aborigines now in the outer room, while Woodbury took a large wooden box to block the window. The box was soon smashed in with clubs and stones and Alcorn was knocked senseless. At this the attack began to break up, as a shepherd, alerted by the shooting, was observed by the attackers going to fetch the mounted troops who were stationed at Glennie’s property. The adjoining workers’ huts were raided for bedding and blankets and the warriors retreated into the bush. Not realising that the troops had been alerted, Woodbury tried to raise the alarm by firing his musket twice more and then once again sent young Richard Alcorn to Chilcott’s farm. The mounted troops pursued the group but did not find them. 65 Robert Scott, the nearest magistrate, arrived the following day and saw broken spears lying all around the area, stones in the hut and the smashed box used in the defence. According to Scott, the warriors were not those involved in other incidents.

Nevertheless, Woodbury identified four of them by name, including three from the attack on Chilcott’s: Ball, Murray and Togy, another man named Brandy, and a boy captured and released on Glennie’s farm nearby. The others he did not know well, although he felt he should. 66

65 Deposition of John Woodbury; Report of Robert Scott, ML Government Despatches Vol.8, A1197, pp. 352–357; p. 344. 66 Deposition of John Woodbury, ML Government Despatches Vol.8, A1197, p. 356.

211

Figure 15 : The layout plan of Alcorn’s hut as presented to the inquiry into Aboriginal violence in the Hunter Valley. The plan shows the various doors and windows where the action took place in August 1825. (Source: SLNSW Government Despatches Vol. 8 A 1197)

Both Woodbury and Scott claimed that the attack was unprovoked. However the ferocity of the assault and its eruption soon after Alcorn arrived suggest retaliation for some unknown offence. Despite the groups being different from those involved in the incident at Merton and the distance between the two places being approximately 40 kilometres in a straight line, the quick succession of events across the valley, suggest some type of co-ordination, possibly in response to the presence of the mounted police. Attacks or raids spread across the region would have the mounted troopers endlessly roaming around trying to find the assailants, hence providing a better chance of escape for the warriors involved.

212 If this was the tactic, it did not work after the attack on Alcorn. Robert Scott quickly organised a posse, including himself, five military, four Europeans and four Aboriginal trackers, to pursue the attackers. Three days later, approximately 20 miles (32 kilometres) from Alcorn’s hut, the mounted group came across an Aboriginal camp. But here the various accounts begin to differ. Scott, who led the hunt, reported that they came on the camp in the morning of the third day. A skirmish resulted, with one European speared through the face, two Aborigines killed and an unknown number wounded. The details were told to Scott by an Aboriginal woman caught in the action. 67 The Australian newspaper however gave a more detailed account as reported to them: the pursuing group led by Scott came on the camp in the evening, guided in by the light of the camp fires. Two of the party, one European and one Aboriginal tracker, each with a musket, were sent forward to reconnoitre the site, but being seen they fired into the camp and then retreated behind trees to reload. The Aboriginal tracker was stuck in the face with a spear, but was not killed, and the rest of the party rushed forward to join the fight. As each was armed with a musket, their firing resulted in the death of eighteen Aborigines and the capture of a man and a woman. Roger Milliss has suggested that the confusion over the timing of the action and the numbers may mean there were two separate events. 68 At the suggestion of a Justice of the Peace being sent to the Hunter to investigate the incident The Australian responded dismissively:

It may be very satisfactory to the authorities to know the particulars of this

novel affair, but in our opinion sufficient may be collected without the

trouble of sending persons from Sydney. The blacks have had the glory of

dying in battle and that is enough, for men whose wanton attacks have

67 Report of Magistrates Mr Scott and Mr McLeod, 3 October 1826, Governor’s Despatches, ML Volume 8, A1197, p. 344. 68 Milliss, Waterloo Creek , p. 58.

213 been far too numerous and have gone far too long unpunished….Mr Scott

is a Magistrate, and all that took place, we have no doubt, was managed

under his control and direction. 69

The Australian’s confidence in Scott to manage and control the situation, at least in terms of allowing Aboriginal warriors the glory of dying in battle, was probably well founded. In

1838, fronting the Legislative Council in Sydney as a witness in their enquiry into the

“Aborigines Question”, Scott testified that Aborigines only understood force and the certainty of instant retaliation and that it was the only command they obeyed. Through over 16 years of contact with them, he had observed that violence ceased as they became better acquainted with European power to punish it, and if vigorous measures were adopted on the first occasion of violence, they soon learnt that only one law was to be followed and that was European law. The earlier this was impressed upon them, the less suffering was felt on either side. 70 William Breton, after visiting the Hunter in 1833 put it even more bluntly:

We have taken possession of their country, and are determined to keep it;

if therefore they destroy the settlers, or their property, they must expect

the law of retaliation will be put in force, and that reprisals will be

committed upon themselves. 71

While Breton was certainly right about Europeans having taken possession of Aboriginal country, his justification regarding the law of retaliation masked what it actually was, which was a form of war on the Aboriginal people, with indiscriminate attacks on camps, family groups and Aboriginal warriors when they could be found. Following Scott’s raid on the

69 The Australian , 23 September 1826, p. 3. 70 Testimony of Robert Scott, Aborigines Question: report from the Committee on the Aborigines Question with Minutes of Evidence, 12 October 1838. Legislative Council, Extract from Votes and Proceedings No.23, pp. 15-16. 71 Breton, Excursions in NSW , p. 200.

214 Aboriginal camp, another body of warriors attacked Bowman’s Ravensworth estate again in early September - the third time the estate was targeted. Five fencers working on the property were alerted by the barking of their dogs to the approach of the armed men and managed to get to their weapons before the attack, wounding one Aboriginal man and sustaining no injuries themselves. 72 This was the last serious incident reported in the upper

Hunter in 1826, bringing to a close eleven months of skirmishes and raids. But the

Europeans did not know this, and their experience led some to insist on greater government protection.

The trial of Lieutenant Lowe The reverberations of Lowe’s actions were also soon to play out in the Supreme Court in

Sydney. On September 4, Threlkeld wrote to Saxe Bannister and expressed his fears that war was about to erupt in the Hunter. Settlers were all in arms and more soldiers had been sent inland after the attack on Alcorn’s hut and the reprisal by Scott. He also reported that his own brother-in-law, James Arndell, had seen two hundred warriors while on the road to the Hawkesbury, who, while not harming him, had threatened vengeance against Dr

Bowman. 73 Helenus Scott, writing to his sister in September 1826, also talked of war, commenting that the “disturbances” had started some time ago although he did know the cause. He did know that the Aborigines had acted “very treacherously” but had now been severely punished and appeared rather frightened. Just as his brother Robert would declare in 1838, Helenus went on:

72 Supreme Court Miscellaneous Correspondence relating to Aborigines, SRNSW, COD 294A, 5/1161, Items 378-867, pp 42-49. 73 Gunson, Australian Reminiscences , p. 93.

215 If the governor had acted as he was advised by persons on this river and as

he ought to have done, the blacks would have been quiet in a short time

without so many whites and blacks having been killed… 74

Helenus speculated that the Governor’s indecision was in part because he was afraid of being ridiculed in England if he had declared war on the Aborigines, as had happened to

Brisbane before him. He also told his sister that the trackers used in the retaliation by their brother had lived about their property at Glendon. Here we see the flip side to the violence, that of ongoing co-operation and co-existence that was also occurring across the valley. Scott’s trackers illustrate the sometimes complex personal allegiances between

Europeans and Aboriginals, whereby Aboriginal warriors assisted in the attacks on other

Aboriginal groups. Connor has noted that in the frontier violence along the Hawkesbury around 1804 and 1805, Aboriginal warriors were engaged in traditional warfare and a frontier war simultaneously. They sometimes formed alliances with Europeans in punitive raids on neighbouring groups to gain the benefits of combining against a common enemy. 75

This may have been what was happening with Scott, or perhaps they helped Scott in return for his own protection of them and their families who lived on his estate.

The Scott brothers felt so secure from Aboriginal attack that they did not sign a petition sent to the Governor in September 1826 calling for extra soldiers to be posted to the

Hunter for protection. The petition was signed by eleven settlers on properties from

Lochinvar and Maitland in the lower valley, to Merton and Segenhoe in the upper valley. In a curious turn of phrase, they wanted troops to protect their property from “the revenge and depredation of these infuriated and savage people”. The description of the Aboriginal groups as vengeful and infuriated suggests that the petitioners acknowledged an initial

74 Helenus Scott to Augusta, 25 September 1826. 75 Connor, The Australian Frontier Wars , p. 45.

216 wrongdoing on their part, or a wider injustice by Europeans in the valley. Two of the signatories, Dr James Bowman of Ravensworth and Peter McIntyre of Segenhoe, were at the centre of much of the violence that had played out in 1825 and 1826, while William

Ogilvie at Merton, who also signed, had avoided it.76 Saxe Banister advised that the military should be deployed, believing that their presence would serve to protect the

Aboriginal population as much as the Europeans through negating the need for Europeans to take matters into their own hands and convincing the Aborigines of the overwhelming nature of Government force. He also suggested the declaration of martial law in the

Hunter that had been instrumental to the success of the deployment in Bathurst in 1824.

This would serve to reinforce the message of the government’s determination in the matter and indemnify any soldiers sent to secure Aborigines involved in murders in the case of any “mistakes”. 77

The petition had arisen as a result of Darling withdrawing Lieutenant Lowe and his troops from the valley and ordering a second enquiry into the shootings that had taken place under Lowe’s command. He dismissed the petition and Bannister’s call for martial law, commenting that the threat was minor, as the Aborigines were relatively few in number when compared to the population of settlers. If the petitioners were so worried about their property, he suggested they spend more time on them, rather than in Sydney, where he understood the majority resided permanently, and where they all were during the recent outrages. Darling counselled that settlers should set an example to their servants, and prevent the “irregularities” amongst them, which, he suspected, was the cause in many

76 Petition to Governor Darling, 4 September 1826, ML, Governors Despatches [hereafter GD] Volume 8, A1197, p. 219. The signatories to the petition were: Dr J Bowman (Ravensworth), Peter McIntyre (Segenhoe), AB Sparke (Ravensfield, Maitland), Leslie Duguid (Lochinvar), J Gaggin (Luskintyre), John Cobb (Minimbah), TW Winder (Windermere near Lochinvar), David Maziere (farm on site of Dalwood, Branxton), William Ogilivie (Merton), [indecipherable], John Brown (Bolwarra). 77 Bannister to Darling, 5 September 1826, ML, GD Volume 8, A1197, p. 227.

217 cases of the conflicts. Ominously he also declared that if the settlers united to take vigorous measures for their own defence, they would be more effective than a military force in protecting themselves. He further assured them that they would receive every necessary support for any exertions in their defence they might make. 78

At the same time as encouraging the settlers to defend themselves, Darling had Lieutenant

Lowe bought to trial for the wilful murder of Jackey Jackey in the Supreme Court on the strength of the evidence collected by the acting Attorney General. Moore had complained to Darling about the level of evasion he had encountered amongst the witnesses as he attempted to investigate, particularly the magistrates and especially Edward Close. Moore reported there was a mystery which needed clearing up and his reports made Darling fear that reliable witnesses were being kept out of the way deliberately. Eventually Thomas

Farnham, a constable at Newcastle who had witnessed the shooting and who had been kept from the previous two investigations, gave Moore the evidence he needed to proceed to trial. It also prompted Darling to dismiss Close as a magistrate in March 1827. Allman resigned soon after. 79

The trial of Lieutenant Lowe was unique. It was the first time in the colony’s history an officer had been tried for the death of an Aborigine, and the case put the question of

Aboriginal rights and sovereignty under British law to the court. It also highlighted the disparity between the way the law was viewed in Sydney and the actualities on the fringes of the settlement. Lowe’s role as a member of the mounted police placed him in both a military and civil role, acting as a soldier and a law enforcer. Although under the command of a central authority, the mounted police operated largely unsupervised, often with civilian auxiliaries, in what settlers viewed as a defence of their lives and property. Further,

78 Governor Darling–Response to petitioners, 5 September 1826, ML, GD Volume 8, A1197, p. 223. 79 Milliss, Waterloo Creek , p. 65; SG 1 March 1827, p. 2.

218 while violent attacks perpetrated by convicts on Aborigines had occasionally been investigated and punishments handed down by magistrates, the actions of settlers, often framed in the language of self-defence, had rarely been officially questioned. Thus the trial of Lowe was viewed by many Hunter Valley residents as a threat to their own security. 80

The case went before the Supreme Court in May 1827, with Lowe defended by Dr Robert

Wardell and William Charles Wentworth. Wentworth, through his newspaper The

Australian , had already made his opinions clear on the need for settlers to defend themselves against Aboriginal attack. Wardell and Wentworth opened the defence with a challenge to the jurisdiction of the Court in trying Lowe for the murder of an Aborigine in the first place, arguing that Aboriginal people were not subjects of the British King and that there was no treaty between the King and Aborigines. Even if they were subjects it was impossible to try them in a court of law under the New South Wales Act, as defendants required a jury of military and naval officers; thus any Aboriginal person would require a jury of half British subjects and half Aboriginal people to get a fair trial. Therefore if an

Aboriginal defendant could not be tried in the court and punished under British law, the question was, how could they be punished if they contravened the laws of God that all were subject to? Wardell and Wentworth argued that summary punishment was the only answer to the question, and as Lowe had carried that through, he could not be tried for murder. 81

This argument was rejected. It was determined that, as an officer in the 40 th Regiment,

Lowe was under the jurisdiction of the Court, and as the alleged offence had occurred at

80 L. Ford, 2010, Settler Sovereignty: Jurisdiction and Indigenous People in America and Australia, 1788-1836 , Harvard University Press, Cambridge, p. 123. Five men had been charged with the murder of two Aboriginal boys at the Hawkesbury in 1799. Although found guilty they were all pardoned. See Karskens, The Colony , pp. 467-474. 81 K. Chaves, ’A solemn judicial farce, the mere mockery of a trial’: the acquittal of Lieutenant Lowe, 1827, Aboriginal History 2007 Volume 31, p. 135. Also R. v. Lowe (1827) NSWKR4 http://www.law.mq.edu.au/research/colonial_case_law/nsw/cases/case_index/1827/r_v_lowe/ accessed 29 March 2014.

219 Wallis Plains this was also within the Court’s jurisdiction. Most significantly, the victim, despite his Aboriginality, must be considered a British subject and was therefore entitled to lex loci , or protection of the laws as they pertained to New South Wales, and so the case proceeded. 82

The prosecution relied on the eye witness statements of three people who were present:

Thomas Farnham, the Newcastle constable who had been stationed on McIntyre’s

Segenhoe estate and who had escorted Jackey Jackey to Wallis Plains; William Salisbury an ex-convict transported in 1818 and sent to Wallis Plains in 1821; and William Constantine who was employed as a messenger at Wallis Plains. The three men gave damning eyewitness accounts of the execution of Jackey Jackey. Farnham recounted how he had bought the prisoner down from the Hunter to be chained in the lock-up for the night. The following morning he saw the prisoner taken to the Government House by two soldiers where Lowe ordered them to take him into the woods and shoot him. Farnham went with the party that carried out the execution, witnessing three soldiers shoot him down and the fourth stand over the body and shoot it once more. The body was left on the ground where it lay. Salisbury said he saw the soldiers go past his hut with Jackey Jackey and followed behind. He saw the execution from approximately 50 yards away, identifying

Lowe and a soldier called Lee as being present. He later assisted with burying the body behind the Government House. Constantine testified that he had seen Lowe and Sergeant

Moore with Jackey Jackey as he was going to collect water. When he returned they were all gone, but Moore soon returned and asked him to help dig a grave for the man.

Constantine also declared that another man named (William) Jones had told him there was to be an enquiry and to say nothing, which he said he would, unless put on oath. One night, as the enquiry date approached, Constantine witnessed Jones and another man

82 http://www.law.mq.edu.au/research/colonial_case_law/nsw/cases/case_index/1827/r_v_lowe/ accessed 29 March 2014

220 named Newton, disinter the body and move it. He believed they had taken it in to a nearby creek.83

With the case laid out by the prosecution, the defence went to task to undermine the credibility of the three witnesses without refuting the statements they had given.

Wentworth and Wardell cast doubts on the character of Farnham, Salisbury and

Constantine making a point of their having been convicts and their involvement in the capture and burial of Jackey Jackey. Character witnesses were then called to attack the truthfulness of each witness. Each stated that they would not believe these men’s oaths and that they were idle and untrustworthy. William Jones and James Newton both denied ever burying or disinterring the body and a deposition given earlier by Farnham that appeared to contradict his court testimony was also presented. The jury of seven military men took five minutes to find Lowe not guilty, an outcome predicted by Threlkeld eight months earlier, in September 1826. 84 In July Lowe left NSW to join his regiment in

Tasmania. He returned to England in 1830.

Lowe’s trial highlighted the disjuncture between the view of law in the Colonial government in Sydney and by those on the periphery of the settled areas. Residents of the

Hunter expected government intervention via military reprisals to quell the Aboriginal violence, but they wanted it to be on their own terms. The trial of Lowe and the investigation into the broader circumstances of the violence was not welcomed by the community or by the magistrates who represented the law in the outer frontiers. Indeed the resistance to the prosecution was led by the local magistrates, particularly Close and to some extent Scott, whose loyalties lay with their local community first and the provincial

83 http://www.law.mq.edu.au/research/colonial_case_law/nsw/cases/case_index/1827/r_v_lowe/ accessed 29 March 2014 84 http://www.law.mq.edu.au/research/colonial_case_law/nsw/cases/case_index/1827/r_v_lowe/ accessed 29 March 2014; Threlkeld to G Burder and WA Hankey, 11 September 1826 in Gunson Australian Reminiscences , p. 214.

221 government second. 85 The Sydney Monitor in 1831 suggested it was these connections that had stifled the investigation and resulted in witnesses not coming forward for the trial. 86

Their power was further illustrated in the fact that Scott’s role in the killing of eighteen

Aborigines following the attack on Alcott’s hut was never investigated. The trial also represented the changing nature of law in the colony, where, after the establishment of the Supreme Court in 1824, the ideas of frontier justice that had largely prevailed in NSW were pitted against an increasingly complex network of centralised power and legality that sought to extend the government’s jurisdiction to the edges of the colonial settlement. 87

Some historians have claimed that after 1826 the spirit and power of the Aborigines in the

Hunter Valley to revolt had been broken, and although there were isolated reports of spearing’s or wandering groups of hostile Aborigines, there was no further large scale trouble. 88 However, by the time Lowe’s trial finished in May 1827, a new round of violence had erupted in the Hunter. As was the case in 1826, the incidents recorded in first five months of 1827 appear to be specifically targeted rather than random and indiscriminate attacks. The spirit of Aboriginal resistance to those Europeans who they saw as directly responsible for violence against them or their people had not diminished.

The memory of the shootings and the hangings in 1826 continued to fuel the traditional practise of retribution for some time. In late 1826, John Elliott, a blacksmith and free man who had emigrated with his family in 1825 to work on Segenhoe, was riding back to the estate at night through the bush. As he approached the farm, an Aboriginal man with whom he was friendly, slipped from the darkness and warned him of an ambush ahead.

Elliott had seen the glare of a large fire which his informant told him was to burn the body

85 Ford, S ettler Sovereignty , p. 123. 86 The Sydney Monitor , 30 March 1831, p. 2 87 Ford, Settler Sovereignty , p. 126. 88 Wood, Dawn in the Valley , p. 133; Milliss Waterloo Creek , p. 69.

222 of the approaching rider, who the assembled warriors believed was John McIntyre. Elliott’s

Aboriginal friend, who was part of the ambush party, had told the group it was Elliott and not McIntyre who was coming, but, as they did not believe him, he had slipped away unnoticed to warn him. 89 John McIntyre, who also worked at Segenhoe, had been involved in one of the first recorded violent incidents when he had pursued maize raiders into the surrounding hills. He had also had a dray plundered on the road to the estate before

Jackey Jackey himself had been briefly detained at Segenhoe prior to his removal to Wallis

Plains. The complex nature of frontier relationships between settlers and Aboriginal people is further illustrated by the fact that Elliott’s wife Martha was on friendly terms with the areas Aboriginal residents, making it possible that it was her influence and friendship that had protected her husband. 90

In November 1826, John Hunt, a district constable at Patricks Plains and his wife Catherine reported that their twenty month old daughter had been abducted from their hut, presumably by Aboriginal warriors.91 The suspect was known to Europeans as Bit-O-Bread, and to his own people as Byirybyrry. 92 In March 1827, Byirybyrry and “King” Jerry were identified among a large group of Aboriginal men that surrounded the hut of George Claris, a convict assigned to John Howe on his Redbournberry estate at Patricks Plains. Claris told his overseer Luke Pearson that the men surrounded the hut and would have attacked but for two other Europeans arriving who were travelling up to work for James Greig.

Byirybyrry, identified as Bit-O-Bread by Claris, was seeking vengeance for being wrongfully

89 Wood, Dawn in the Valley , p. 117. McIntyre was murdered by three of his convict servants while in his bed in 1830, pp. 283-294. 90 Wood, Dawn in the Valley , p. 240. 91 The Australian , 18 November 1826, p. 2. 92 Robert Scott to Alex Macleay, August 1824, Supreme Court Miscellaneous Correspondence Relating to Aborigines, SRNSW, COD 294A, 5/1161, p. 90; Letters from local magistrates and settlers in response to a directive from the Governor to take a count of Aborigines in their districts, name the tribes and the chiefs if possible , J. Glennie, Patricks Plains, 4 August 1829, CSC, SRNSW, 4/2045, 29/6435. Bit-O-Bread/ Birrybirry also appears on a blanket list in 1834 for Patricks Plains, aged 29 years, making him 22 during the period in question, see List of Blankets 1834, CSC Special Bundles, SRNSW, , 4/6666B, 34/5678, pp. 178-179.

223 accused of the kidnapping. Jerry declared to Claris that he would assemble 1000 men and kill any European they encountered if Bit-O-Bread was hurt. They were not afraid of the soldiers, they said, and gave a demonstration of how they would attack. After being offered bread, tobacco and milk, Byirybyrry, Jerry and the others left. 93

Three days later, at Fal Brook, Samuel Owen an overseer for James Bowman was returning to Ravensworth from Wollombi Brook where he had been searching for straying cattle. He encountered a party of 15 Aboriginal men, who immediately surrounded him, blocking his way. One he recognised as Jackass who “had done so much mischief about Dr Bowmans”.

This may have been a man called Yerriman, 34 years of age, who was later counted amongst those living around Merton. Or maybe it was another man, named Girrogan, 25 years old, from the Patricks Plains area, close to where Owen encountered the group.

Whoever it was, they asked if Owen was the “big constable” and when he answered yes, the man drew his waddie and flourished it, while Owen kept him at bay with his musket.

The remaining men stood in a circle around the contest with their spears, but showed no sign of violence. It was a one-on-one contest between Owen and Jackass, a version of the traditional Aboriginal ritual contests where a lawbreaker would face their accuser’s spears and clubs in payback.94 As each lunged and parried, Cobborn Mary, the wife of the accused kidnapper Bit-O-Bread intervened, speaking to the men in their language as she circled

Owen hitting the ground with a pointed stick. After some time the men backed down and left, leaving Owen with Cobborn Mary. She told him to avoid going into the bush, as the men were determined to kill him. 95 Why Owen was challenged is unknown, but Mary’s

93 George Claris, 25 March 1827, Supreme Court Miscellaneous Correspondence relating to Aborigines, SRNSW, COD 294A, 5/1161, Items 378-867, p. 74. 94 Attenbrow, Sydney’s Aboriginal Past , p. 60. 95 Samuel Owen, 28 March 1827, Supreme Court Miscellaneous Correspondence relating to Aborigines, SRNSW COD 294A 5/1161, Items 378-867, p. 80. The man Jackass is probably Girrogan from Patricks Plains, as both he and Bit-O-Bread appear on the same list in 1834 and as it was Bit-O- Bread’s wife who intervened, it suggests some closer connection.

224 intervention in the contest suggests some authority over the situation and those involved.

Perhaps as an elder she had authority over the men, or she may have been the one wronged in the first place and called a halt to the payback. As the wife of Bit-O-Bread she may have simply wanted to avoid any further trouble and stopped the contest before anyone was seriously hurt or killed. The same day, James Glennie and Benjamin Singleton both reported that cattle on their properties had been speared. 96

Tensions remained high throughout the remainder of the first half of 1827. Robert Scott wrote to the Colonial Secretary in May, as the trial of Lowe was playing out in Sydney, to outline his concerns about the growing threat of Aboriginal violence in the Hunter. The testimony of his Aboriginal informants had convinced him that Bit-O-Bread was responsible for the kidnap of the Hunt’s daughter, but Scott was constrained in his actions. As

Aboriginal evidence would not be admissible in a court, there was little point in arresting

Bit–O–Bread, despite having no doubt about his guilt. He felt that the Aboriginal warriors around Patricks Plains were showing increasing signs of hostility towards the Europeans and was convinced that any move to capture Bit-O-Bread would result in bloodshed, as the neighbouring Aboriginal groups had already threatened to descend on the Europeans if he was taken in. The same applied to any attempts to arrest those identified as being involved in the attacks on Bowman or Alcorn Scott pointed out that none of perpetrators could be taken without violence in the first instance, followed by open warfare, for they never appeared near the settlements except in numbers, and would require a considerable force to overcome. 97

96 James Glennie, 28 March 1827, Supreme Court Miscellaneous Correspondence relating to Aborigines, SRNSW COD 294A 5/1161, Items 378-867, p. 84. 97 Robert Scott to Alexander McLeay, 17 May 1827, 28 March 1827, Supreme Court Miscellaneous Correspondence relating to Aborigines, SRNSW COD 294A 5/1161, Items 378-867, p. 90.

225 From mid-1827, the reports of violence and confrontations began to wane, despite the continued presence of relatively large numbers of Aboriginal people in the valley and ever- increasing numbers of Europeans moving into the area. An informal census undertaken by magistrates and landowners in mid-1827 to determine the number of blankets required in an upcoming distribution reported approximately 1712 Aboriginal men, women and children living between Lake Macquarie and Newcastle and inland to Merton. The largest concentrations were around Threlkeld’s mission and Newcastle, with 760 people. About

300 lived between Luskintyre, Patricks Plains, Wollombi and Bowman’s Ravensworth estate, while a further 252 were recorded around Wallis Plains and Patersons Plains, 300 in the region close to Merton and a further 100 around the Merton estate itself.98 The numbers were largely based on educated guesswork by the magistrates and did not include any groups around Segenhoe or Edinglassie as no returns were supplied from there or those who continued to live in traditional ways in the hills and isolated valleys of the

Hunter. As Alexander McLeod at Patricks Plains explained in his return:

we have to state that no correct calculation of the numbers of Aborigines

can be made, and that for many reasons, their wandering habits and

constant intermixture one tribe with another: some frequenting the

settlement and others keeping themselves entirely strangers – the

statement of their numbers must therefore in great measure be a guess 99

After years of relative quiet following the Hunter’s opening for European settlement, what caused the outbreak of violence in 1826 in the first place? The reports of the magistrates

98 Letters from local magistrates and settlers in response to a directive from the Governor to take a count of Aborigines in their districts, name the tribes and the chiefs if possible, CSC, SRNSW, 4/2045– 29/7059, 27/3054, 27/4011. In comparison there were approximately 3118 European’s living in the Hunter at the same time; Author analysis of 1828 Census. 99 Alexander McLeod to Alexander McLeay, 17 April 1827, ‘Letters from local magistrates and settlers in response to a directive from the Governor to take a count of Aborigines in their districts, name the tribes and the chiefs if possible’, CSC, SRNSW, 4/2045–27/4011.

226 indicate that settlers saw the series of attacks as a co-ordinated campaign, with one event leading inexorably onto the next as bands of Aboriginal raiders moved through the upper reaches of the settled areas. The settlers at first feared and then talked openly of a war, demanding the government deploy foot soldiers and mounted troops in response. And, in the early months of 1827, with threats by King Jerry of assembling 1000 warriors to kill all the Europeans, it appeared the war might come. Colonial memories of the frontier conflict in Bathurst were still fresh, and those settlers who had relocated from the Hawkesbury well remembered the attacks along the Hawkesbury and Nepean Rivers in the 1790s and early

1800s and its resurgence in 1816-1817.

227

Figure 16 : Map showing the reported incidents of Aboriginal violence in the Hunter Valley, chronologically between 1825 and 1827. The massacre site is speculation based on distance and Scott’s reports. Note the concentration of attacks around Dr Bowmans Ravensworth Estate. (Source: Author; Cecilie Knowles graphics)

228 War or not? It appeared on the face of it to be a sweeping campaign, moving south to north across the edges of settlement, taking advantage of the isolation of the farms, shepherds huts and embryonic estates to attack each in turn before any type of frontier defence could be organised. By the time the troops appeared at one property, the raiders had moved on to the next. However if we take each incident in turn and try to look at it, as best we can, from an Aboriginal perspective, another pattern appears: one of targeted raids and attacks on specific people or places. Whether or not these were co-ordinated between groups, or the pressure of the European expansion reached a breaking point at the same time across the valley, or the timing of attacks was simply coincidence, or one group took advantage of the chaos generated by other attacks is unknown. What can be seen, however, is that each of the major incidents cited by the magistrates can be traced to a particular individual, and their actions. While some of the raids on crops may have been opportunistic, the attacks where spears were thrown all appear to be in retaliation. Robert Greig for example, had a record of being violent towards Aboriginal people, while the shepherds at Putty had been involved in attacks in 1816 on the Hawkesbury.

The concentration of the later attacks around the Ravensworth estate of Dr Bowman and his neighbours would appear to be an escalation following the military’s first foray into the valley when a number of suspects from the Greig attack were captured. The arrival of the mounted police under Lowe soon after, which resulted in the shooting of the “escaping” three and the capture of Jackey–Jackey, marks the moment of intensification that swirled around Ravensworth and its neighbours. Bowman’s property remained the centre of the troubles up until the confrontation with Samuel Owen in March 1827. Amongst the other incidents, mistaken identity and the incarceration of suspects were the causes of the tension, as it unfolded at Merton. Here, by contrast, the foundation of civil relations, a

229 calm demeanour and an understanding of language and culture amongst the Ogilvie family resulted in an avoidance of the violence witnessed at other properties. So too the warning given to John Elliott of an ambush at Segenhoe was likely due to a friendship developed between him, his wife Martha and the local Aboriginal people.

The Merton encounter also illustrates one of the aspects of the frontier and the conflicts or war, that so confounded Europeans. The conflict was irregular, a series of seemingly random attacks spread out across the landscape. The frontier existed not as a definable band across the settlement, but more like individual frontiers for each farm or settler. The unknown could be as close as the fence line across a paddock, beyond which, uncleared bush camouflaged any approaching raid. Reynolds has likened it to the guerrilla tactics employed against the French in the Peninsula Wars in Spain and Portugal, a practice that some of the officers and men in the mounted police themselves may have been involved. 100

It was a style that suited Aboriginal resistance and one that was most like their traditional approach. Small bands could move rapidly through a familiar landscape while eluding the

Europeans, who possessed only a rudimentary knowledge of the same ground.

Fear spread quickly through the isolated huts and farms as rumours of each attack were transmitted. But fear also spread through the Aboriginal community. An Aboriginal group that was camped on the Scott’s estate at Glendon during the height of the troubles was disturbed by one of the men accusing another of being involved in the killing of the

Europeans upcountry. At the utterance of the accusation, the accused leapt up and fled into the bush. As the man was well known to the Scotts and was considered a friend,

Robert Scott was sceptical of the charge and on investigating found the man was not within fifty miles (80km) of the attack at the time, but rather had recently beaten the accuser in a

100 Reynolds, Forgotten War , p. 86.

230 contest over a woman. 101 This fear of European vengeance was being manipulated by some in the Aboriginal community to sway traditional law making and was being used to attempt to bring punishment for perceived wrongs by leveraging European reaction to suspicion of involvement in deadly attacks. Fighting did not necessarily involve every settler or every Aboriginal group, but many were caught up once the violence escalated and the fear generated fuelled retribution and counter attack.

While the attack on Greig that marked the start of a year of violence can be attributed to his attitudes to Aboriginal people, sexual violence perpetrated by European men against

Aboriginal women had long been a cause of violent retribution. Nicholas Clements’ work on colonial Tasmania has shown that sexual violence was the most important trigger for violence in Van Diemen’s Land and the Black War, as it was called. 102 Clements notes that the enormous gender imbalance within the European population, particularly in the outer settled districts of Tasmania, contributed to the problem. In Tasmania in 1822 there were six times as many men as women, and, while in the early years men in the bush had traded goods for sex, as more and more men came to the district, Aboriginal women were increasingly taken by force. 103 In the Hunter Valley a similarly disproportionate ratio of men to women existed, with seven men to every woman (including female children) in

1828. 104 Threlkeld reported raids on Aboriginal camps and the abduction of women through 1825 and 1826, a number of which he reported to authorities. In December 1825 he reported an Overseer of a road gang in Newcastle for attempting to abduct a girl of ten years old, and for beating her father when he tried to stop him. Threlkeld went further in a letter to Saxe Bannister concerning the reasons for the attack on Greig:

101 Cunningham, Two Years in NSW Volume II, p. 192. 102 N. Clements, The Black War: Fear, p. 49. 103 Clements, The Black War , p. 20. 104 Sainty, Census 1828 , Author analysis.

231 I have not yet had one tangible instance of assault, although I am

convinced of many, and have heard the shrieks of Girls, about 8 or 9 years

of age, taken by force by the vile men of Newcastle….There are now two

Government stockmen, that are every night annoying the Blacks by taking

their little Girls…My wonder is that more Whites are not speared than

there are considering the gross provocation given. 105

Although not as forthright, Governor Darling also believed the underlying cause of the troubles to have been abuse by stockmen or “irregularities” carried out by convict servants.

While he thought that Aboriginal outrages should be punished, he did not accept that they had been entirely unprovoked. 106 In 1833 William Breton also noted that stock-keepers around Port Stephens raided camps, kidnapped the women and shot others for fun. 107

Darling also made the point, as reported by the troops at the frontline, that the “murders have invariably been perpetrated by the natives domesticated on the establishments of the settlers”. It was claimed by a correspondent to The Australian that Bit-O-Bread had lived around the hut of the Hunt family for some time prior to abducting their daughter. 108 It was this intimacy, where both sides knew each other by name, lived in close proximity and were, at times, on friendly terms, that gave an unsettling aspect to the violence and added to the European perception of the treachery of the Aborigines around them. This was highlighted by the attack on John Woodbury at Fal Brook: he knew four of his assailants.

To the settlers the attacks appeared to be arbitrary and unpredictable, carried out by people who had lived peacefully amongst them for some time before suddenly attacking them. This in turn fostered a sense of constant vigilance among setters, particularly those

105 Gunson, Australian Reminiscences , p. 91. 106 Darling to Bathurst, 6 October 1826, ML GD Volume 8 A1197, p. 336. 107 Breton Excursions in NSW , p. 201. 108 Darling to Bathurst, 6 October 1826, ML GD Volume 8 A1197, pp. 336. The Australian , 17 February 1827, p. 2.

232 more isolated from the main settlements around Wallis Plains and Patricks Plains. Whether these representations were accurate was irrelevant to those who lived on the edges of the settled districts, as the fear they generated added to a sense of disorder that was difficult to control. 109

The fear and imagined treachery fed increasing brutality and violence. Barry Morris argues that the cultural representations of the Aborigines as treacherous effectively authorised and inspired greater acts of terror towards them. 110 As Robert Scott later stated, the only law they could understand was the one of force, and so it was that displays of Aboriginal resistance were met by increasingly dramatic European responses. Reynolds notes that

Aboriginal people were often stunned by the numbers killed in encounters, which would have seemed both disproportionate and indiscriminate, for the victims were often individuals or even whole groups not connected to any original attack. The traditional compulsion to avenge death by payback became increasingly difficult to maintain. 111 While the Aboriginal attacks appear to be targeted in the Hunter during this period, the random attack of the soldiers from Windsor in late 1825, Scott’s killing of eighteen Aboriginal men and women in his dawn raid in August 1826 and Lowe’s execution of his prisoners all threatened an outbreak of a general war, as the threats of King Jerry to assemble 1000 warriors and kill all Europeans in the valley demonstrated. The increasing evidence of

European power may have led to Aboriginal resistance and retribution being rethought by the warrior groups, and forced them to move towards reconciliation and accommodation rather than the pursuit of all-out war.

109 B. Morris, ‘Frontier Colonialism as a Culture of Terror’, Attwood, B and J Arnold (eds), 1992, Power, Knowledge and Aborigines, Journal of Australian Studies , La Trobe University Press, Melbourne, 85. 110 Morris, ’Frontier Colonialism’, 86. 111 Reynolds, The other side of the frontier , p. 82.

233 In the 1820s and 1830s, during the violent years in the Hunter, at Bathurst and in Tasmania, the idea that a war was being waged across the frontiers was widely debated in the media and in the writings of contemporary witnesses. A war in the Hunter never eventuated. As this chapter has demonstrated through a close examination of the accounts and reports of the day, the Aboriginal response to the invasion of their country was anything but random, it was targeted and specific. Relationships on the ground for both sides were a fundamental component of how people were swept up in frontier violence. In his analysis of the violent years of the 1820s, Roger Millis agreed with A.W. Wood that the spirit of revolt among the Aboriginal people in the Hunter was broken forever, and that the destruction of tribal life was swift and inexorable. 112 The destruction of Aboriginal life through conflict might be seen as a logical and easy explanation, however as the following chapter demonstrates, Aboriginal culture was not totally destroyed, nor was its destruction ever inevitable.

112 Millis, Waterloo Creek , p. 69.

234

235 Chapter 6

The contact zone–Co-operation and reliance

The reaction of Aboriginal people to the invasion of the Hunter Valley in the 1820s and

1830s was a complex and varied one. Violence and confrontation was one response, with clashes particularly intense during the period between the mid-1820s and mid-1830s as more Europeans moved into the valley. The drama and tragedy of the violence on both sides of the frontier, which for many people was inescapable, has in part obscured the co- operation, friendships and working relationships that also formed throughout the region during the same period. Some relationships transitioned through friendship, violence and co-existence: these highlight the blurred and fluid nature of alliances and affiliations in the colonial Hunter. Gaynor MacDonald has argued that the tendency to see Aboriginal people in south-eastern Australia as little more than products of the colonial encounters has encouraged a focus on “race” and “colonialism” as the major forces in Aboriginal history.

However by looking instead at Aboriginal actions, meaning and practice, a greater understanding of Aboriginal experience and culture can be formed. 1

The escalation of violence in the late 1820s and early years of the 1830s has been interpreted as the high point of conflict, after which the spirit of Aboriginal resistance was broken in the Hunter. 2 However the working relationship between Aboriginal people and

Europeans continued to build and develop through the same period. Aboriginal people played a wide variety of roles in the colonial period across Australia in their interactions with Europeans. Reynolds argues that labour was the most important of the exchanges

1 G. MacDonald, 1998, ‘Master narratives and the dispossession of the Wiradjuri’, Aboriginal History , Volume 22, 167 2 Wood, Dawn in the Valley , p. 133; Milliss Waterloo Creek , p. 69.

236 between the two cultures. However, with the possible exception of the first Aboriginal guides, the relationship was never an even exchange. Aboriginal people were forced to make profound cultural adjustments, adopt European ways and language, all the while facing the overall hegemony of European culture and attitudes, within which they were regularly considered to be inferior, despite the heavy reliance on their skills and bushcraft. 3

This inequality became ever more pronounced as Aboriginal people’s ability to continue their traditional life, dependent on the land and waters of the Hunter for food, shelter and spiritual connection, became more difficult. In the years after the 1840s, as European livestock, crops and land-use dominated the valley, the economic base of Aboriginal society was undermined and, partly as a consequence, Aboriginal people were increasingly incorporated into the working systems of the estates. 4

Governors and missionaries believed in the civilising effects of labour on the Aboriginal population. Governor Macquarie hoped their employment as labourers in agricultural work would make them increasingly useful to the young colony. His granting of a farm to

Bungaree on at Georges Head on Sydney’s north shore in 1815 was an extension of this philosophy. Governor Gipps had similar ideas during his administration (1839-1846) hoping that Aborigines could be “civilised” through wage labour. 5 To this end Gipps established a committee in 1841 to assess the levels of Aboriginal employment and investigate opportunities for more. 6

Aboriginal Guides and the settler experience For many European settlers, the employment of Aboriginal guides was often their first experience of working with Aboriginal people. While guides were an essential feature of

3 Reynolds, Black Pioneers , p. 7. 4 R. Castle, and J. Hagan, ‘Settlers and the State: The creation of an Aboriginal workforce in Australia’, Aboriginal History, 1998, Volume 22, 24. 5 Reynolds, The Other Side of the Frontier, p. 144. 6 Report from the Committee on Immigration: replies to circular letter on Aborigines, ML, ZA611.

237 many colonial exploratory parties, as discussed in Chapter 3, their use within the Hunter for newly arriving settlers was also essential for locating grants. Helenus Scott took advantage of the knowledge of local Aboriginal people when he and his brother Robert employed an

Aboriginal guide to find their way to their land grant in 1823. While the Scott’s use of a guide was not remarkable in the broader experience of the first wave of Europeans into the

Valley, one of their servants, a free man called John Brown, found it remarkable enough on a personal level to record the interactions with the guide in detail in his journal.

Figure 17 : Robert Scott (left) and his brother Helenus jnr, C1820 . (Source: SLNSW MIN 354 and MIN 355)

On arrival at Wallis Plains in May 1823, Robert and Helenus Scott, John Brown and nine convict servants, hired a horse from a local settler called Morgan and set off to search for the best land on which to claim their grant. On the morning of the second day, as the party made their breakfast, a young Aboriginal man appeared from the woods and, recognising

Morgan’s horse, told the party he had been sent by Morgan to guide the Scotts to their

238 land. The man told Brown that “White men” called him Ben Davis. 7 A settler named Ben

Davis had been living at Wallis Plains since 1814, one of the handful of convicts permitted to take up small plots of land by Governor Macquarie. The guide’s name suggests a friendship or a connection on some level to Davis the settler, although he had been sent out by Morgan. Brown did not record Ben Davis’ traditional name in his journal, however a man called Ben Davis was listed on the 1834 blanket list at Paterson’s Plains, near where the emancipist Davis lived. His traditional name was Munnoin.8

The adoption of European names by Aboriginal men was common practice throughout the colonial period, starting with Bennelong and Governor Phillip in Sydney in 1790. 9 The practice was both a ritual of friendship and one of strategic positioning, particularly on the part of the Aboriginal participant. In 1827 Peter Cunningham claimed that Aboriginal men were proud to be known by European names and being named was the first request many made when meeting Europeans. Cunningham observed that if a brass plate inscribed with the name was also given, it raised the status of the men amongst their own people. 10

Even without the addition of a plate, or gorget, the acquisition or trading of a name was a significant custom within Aboriginal society. It assigned an authority to act as an intermediary and as such increased power and prestige within their community. The taking of a European name also offered some evidence of patronage or at least a connection to

7 Anonymous diary of a servant of the Scott Family , 8 August 1821-March 1824, ML, MSS 7808, p. 56. Brown identifies the settler from whom they had hired the horse as an Englishman named Morgan. The best known Morgan at Wallis Plains during this period was Molly Morgan, enough so that some settlers referred to the crossing at Wallis Plains as Molly Morgan’s. It is not known if the Englishman was connected to Molly Morgan as by 1823 she was married to Thomas Hunt. However, it is possible that Hunt himself was known as Morgan, taking advantage of his wife’s growing influence and reputation. 8 Blanket Returns 1834, Paterson’s Plains, CSC, SRNSW, 4/6666B, p. 177. 9 Clendinnen, Dancing with Strangers , p. 103. Benelong bestowed the name Be-anna, meaning father on Phillip and asked to be called son in return. 10 P. Cunningham, 1827, Two Years in New South Wales , Volume II, p. 189.

239 the European, which in turn may have afforded some level of trust or protection to the

Aboriginal recipient. 11

Brown wrote that the party was relieved when Ben Davis appeared. They had attempted to secure the aid of a guide before leaving Wallis Plains, but could find no Aborigines at the settlement at the time. Although Brown does not elaborate, it is likely they had discussed it with Morgan, an arrangement that suggests a close collaboration or working agreement between Aboriginal people and some Europeans in the Wallis Plains area.

The labour hire service apparently provided by Morgan and Ben Davis reveals aspects of what US historian Richard White has called the “middle ground” in frontier cross-cultural relations. In his work on the Great Lakes area of the northwest frontier of colonial

America, White proposed a period of co-existence between French fur traders and the different Native American nations that lived in the area. White argues that for a period both Europeans and the American nations lived in a mutually comprehended and advantageous world immediately behind the frontier of the European empire. While it was still a violent place, the middle ground was also a place where both sides cooperated to some degree to accommodate each other for mutual benefit. 12 A central aspect was the inability of either side to gain what they wanted through the use of force, thereby making it necessary to come to some arrangement to achieve their particular objectives. While they acted out of interests derived from their own culture, those operating in this space, also had to convince people of another culture that any mutual action was fair and legitimate. 13

11 S. Konishi, 2012, The Aboriginal Male in the Enlightenment World , Pickering and Chatto, London, p. 124. The authority attached to an English name was most significant in the earliest years after contact. As Aboriginal people became more familiar around estates and the embryonic towns, European names were given to most known individuals. 12 R. White, The Middle Ground: Indians, Empires and Republics in the Great Lakes Region 1650- 1815 , Cambridge University Press, New York, 1991, p. X. 13 White, The Middle Ground , p. 52.

240 The same appears to be true in the early contact period in the Hunter Valley. For

Aboriginal men, guiding allowed a degree of protection while also keeping them in contact with their country. Their skills and knowledge of the land helped Europeans move through it and could assist them in avoiding confrontations with other Aboriginal people encountered along the way. A middle ground was only possible when the two sides were relatively evenly balanced, and so it was short lived in the Hunter Valley as a whole. And yet pockets of co-operation and co-existence remained a feature of the colonial settlement.

It appears that while Morgan was acting as an agent or a go-between for newly arrived colonists with no experience of the bush or any existing relationships with Aboriginal people, Aboriginal people in the area are also taking advantage of Morgan’s position to secure employment as guides and gain access to European goods. A local economy had developed to serve the needs of settlers in the short period before the Valley was mapped out and became familiar to them.

Brown continued:

We set of with Ben Davis as a guide and he seemed very much pleased, and

kept talking all the way he went but we did not understand him but by

what we could make out he was telling us about the country

In this passage Brown offers a tantalising glimpse of what may have been conveyed by

Aboriginal guides like Ben Davis to the first wave of Europeans about their relationship to the Hunter Valley. Brown gives no further information on what he thought Ben Davis was telling them. Perhaps it was simply a physical outline of their surroundings. However

“Country” meant different things to Aboriginal people than it did to Europeans. Country

241 was a complex idea, an interweaving of physical, territorial and cultural understandings of a place. While it could indeed refer to the physical reality, Country also identified the people who lived in or managed an area, the animals, plants, the soil, the waters and skies above and the Dreaming attached to it. It was a multi-dimensional concept of place. 14 Everyone had Country, an area of land defined by their sites and knowledge and under the care and management of a particular group. In their own Country a person might see the land shaped through their understanding of the Dreaming and filled with sites and multilayered stories that explained the logic of the place. 15 Country was unique and inviolable while also surrounded by other unique Country, and the links across them ensured none were isolated. Dreaming tracks, trade routes and ceremonial sites crossed the boundaries and linking into a larger network of traditional knowledge and law. 16 It is therefore possible that, rather than simply giving a physical description of the land, Ben Davis was offering a narration of Country, imparting some of the deeper connections and knowledge that helped him navigate physically and spiritually through the Hunter Valley. Either way, his narration reminds us that the Hunter was a known place to Aboriginal people, inscribed with stories, knowledge, history and meaning.

Along the route to Patrick’s Plains, Ben Davis acted not only as guide, but also as an interpreter and intermediary between the Europeans and other Aboriginal groups encountered. Twice he connected the European party with local Aboriginal groups: once approaching a group who were observing the party from nearby hills and bringing one of their elders into the camp; and a second time at Patricks Plains, where he said he knew a local man who identified himself as Mytie of the “Womby Tribe”. Brown’s description of

14 Rose, Nourishing Terrains , p. 8. 15 Gammage, The Biggest Estate , p. 139. 16 Rose, Nourishing Terrains , p. 13.

242 Mytie hints at broader relationships between the Aboriginal groups in the Hunter and also at some of the early transactions between Europeans and Aboriginal people. 17

Ben Davis and Mytie knew each other, and Ben Davis proclaimed that Mytie a “very good fellow”. This acknowledgment reveals a cross-valley connection between Wallis Plains,

Wollombi, (as the term Womby signifies) and Patricks Plains, and demonstrates the mobility of some groups through the middle valley and surrounding country. When Mytie first approached the camp, Ben Davis and Helenus Scott were away shooting kangaroos.

Mytie, with several others, initially watched Brown from the safety of the trees. Brown noted that at first they appeared afraid to approach and he admitted to being afraid himself. The tension was broken when he offered the men some fish, and Mytie a biscuit in exchange for taking the camp kettle and filling it in the river. When Scott and Ben Davis returned, the group, with Brown, were digging amongst the trees for yams.

The group stayed with the Scotts for three days, supplying the Europeans with fish and having friendly contests, involving spear throwing demonstrations. Brown wrote

we stuck a Buiscuit [sic] on the top of a stick and made them stand at a

distance and throw their Spears at them and them that hit it had it, and in

short time they would have got all the Buiscuits we had if we had not left

of for it was no trouble to them to hit them for they could do it three times

out of five at fourty (sic) yards [36.5m] distance with ease. 18

The yam harvest and spear throwing contest contrast starkly with Brown’s initial acknowledgement of fear on both sides at their first meeting and it was likely Ben Davis’ assurances to both parties of their trustworthiness that facilitated the friendly encounter.

17 Anonymous diary of a servant of the Scott Family, MLMSS 7808, p. 60, 18 Anonymous diary of a servant of the Scott Family, p. 61.

243 The contest itself was possibly suggested by the Scotts or Brown and may have been organised as much out of curiosity regarding the power and accuracy of the spears as any fun and friendly competitiveness. The ease at which the biscuit targets were struck from a distance of over thirty metres must have given the Europeans some pause for thought.

This was the last entry about Mytie or Ben Davis in Brown’s journal, as by now the party had selected their land and no longer needed a guide. With the grant selected, the Scotts and Brown returned to Sydney to secure provisions and collect seven convicts to work on the estate. Clearing and farming at Glendon began in June 1823 with the brothers living in a bark and sapling shelter until work on the main house began in 1824.

Figure 18: Robert or Helenus Scott prepares a meal in the bark shelter that served as their first home, August 1823, Glendon. The lean-too style structure resembles an Aboriginal gunyah, and may have been learnt from their guide Ben Davis or Mytie. A comparison to Figure 20 illustrates the similarities. (Source: Scott Papers, SLNSW, A2266)

244 Brown’s journal illustrates Sylvia Hallam’s observation that the progress of European settlement depended on “indigenous knowledge, use and development of the country and resources”. Early land grants like Glendon were chosen for their access to water, the established grasslands and even the ease of access via pre-existing Aboriginal pathways. 19

Locals and visitors alike continued to use guides through the 1820s, 1830s and as late as the 1840s, including in some areas close to the growing settlements. One such place was the land around Nelsons Plains, near the junction of the Hunter and Williams Rivers. With its thick brush forest and swampy ground, it remained an area that Europeans treated with caution. Robert Scott was still finding his way in the bush here in October 1823, when he wrote in his journal:

M & I agreed to walk to Nelsons Plains across the country if we could have

got a Native to show us the way… (however)...it seems there is to be a

grand Cobbra (worm) Feast somewhere in the neighbourhood and nothing

in the world could induce them to be absent from such an

entertainment…As we could not get a Native, Mitchell and I were afraid to

trust ourselves in the forest, therefore we only walked to the same spot we

disembarked last night… 20

Scott’s account gives us a glimpse not just of the ongoing need for guides on short excursions in some areas, but also of the decision Aboriginal people made about joining expeditions. In this case, the advantages of assisting Scott on what was a relatively small journey were not enough to outweigh the cultural benefits of the cobbra feast and associated gathering.

19 S. Hallam, Fire and Hearth: A study of Aboriginal usage and European usurpation in south-western Australia , Australian Institute of Aboriginal Studies, Canberra, 1979, p. 66. 20 Journal of Robert Scott, ML, A2266, October 15 1823.

245 Between 1822 and 1825, Assistant Government Surveyor Henry Dangar surveyed the valley for settlers and grant holders. His work made the place increasingly familiar to Europeans and so reduced the need for guides in the settled areas. As if keen to reinforce this, there is no evidence that Dangar utilised the skills of Aboriginal guides during his surveys, as neither his field books nor the detailed letters to the Surveyor General regarding his progress make any mention of them. He may of course have deliberately omitted reference to them to enhance his own reputation as a surveyor. However his use of a young

Aboriginal guide in an expedition to find a passage from the upper Hunter Valley to the

Liverpool Plains in October 1824 suggests he was not averse to recognising their assistance. 21 Guidance was not as essential in his survey work, mapping the land and marking his path as he progressed.

Dangar’s surveys in turn led to increased European penetration of the Hunter Valley. In

1828 he published a guide for emigrants, including a map compiled from his survey work that outlined the type of country in different parts of the valley and the various agricultural purposes to which it was suited. Looking to profit from the emigrant market, he wrote:

I trust that the Map, with the Index...will enable persons of all descriptions

to proceed to any part of the country there delineated, and there to

describe with accuracy the position they wish to select. 22

Dangar’s map effectively ended the need for Aboriginal guides between the major estates and settled areas in the Hunter. Still, those wishing to travel beyond the settled districts, or in some cases, even between those areas that were less frequently visited, still needed guiding. Roger Oldfield, editor of the short lived periodical South Asian Register , wrote of a visit to the Hunter in 1828:

21 Surveyor General Letters Received 1822-55; Dangar Survey Field book No221, 1824. 22 Dangar, Index and Directory , p. v.

246 In the course of our progress along the Hunter, we engaged a black fellow

to be our guide, in which capacity the blacks are of a most essential service.

A map and compass are useful: but the local maps, which are obtained

directly or indirectly from the Colonial Surveyors, have very few natural

boundaries laid down, for the guidance of a stranger; and the compass, is a

very uncertain benefit, when standing on the margin of an extensive

morass, or when fixed in the dilemma of a thicket. 23

Although roads and tracks between settled areas and larger estates were increasingly well marked and known amongst the settlers, and easily followed by visitors to the region, any deviation from these or explorations into the more remote parts of the valley remained for some a “trackless wilderness”. Free settler James Atkinson wrote in 1826 that when travelling into unexplored districts, Aboriginal guides were usually procured. They helped carry equipment, including the fowling pieces [guns], and would erect bark shelters for themselves and the European party at night. Atkinson had more than once travelled long distances, including to the Hunter, with no other company then two Aboriginal guides

“whose fidelity I could rely on”.24

Like Atkinson and Oldfield, Lieutenant George Malcolm needed a guide to take him between Robert Scott’s Glendon estate and Charles Boydell’s property on the near present day Gresford, a distance of 20 miles (32km). He employed another two guides for a journey from the Australian Agricultural Company estate at Port Stephens to

Newcastle, travelling through dense bush, sand dunes and swamp lands on the way. 25 In

23 R. Oldfield, ‘Account of the Aborigines of N.S.W., Sydney’ The South Asian Register , 2 January, 1828, 107. 24 J. Atkinson, An account of the state of agriculture and grazing in New South Wales , J Cross, London,1826, p. 137. 25 Lieut. G. P. Malcolm, 50th (Queens Own) Regiment of Foot, ‘Account of six week tour in the District of Hunter River, October 9, 1834’, p. 8 ML, MSS 5312. The present day Glendonbrook Road

247 1833, Lieutenant William Breton reported that the Aborigines of the Hunter made excellent guides “when well treated”. But, Breton added, if the party was on horseback, care should be taken because a horse could walk quicker than was convenient for a man and if the guide was outpaced or if they felt hard pressed they would take the first opportunity to

“give their employers the slip”. 26

The Contact Zone The ongoing use of guides into the middle of the 1830s belies the idea that the European population of the Valley was instantly confident in their abilities to navigate through the landscape beyond the marked roads and trails. Although convicts employed as shepherds and cattle herders were acquiring knowledge of the landscape, many of the free settlers were only familiar with their own estates, and even then not always the entire parcel, but rather the areas around the homestead and the adjoining runs. The mountains, steep valleys and the surrounding bush remained Aboriginal space.

between Glendon and East Gresford likely closely follows the route taken by Malcolm’s Aboriginal guide from Glendon.

26 Breton, Excursions in NSW , p. 213.

248

Figure 19 : Aboriginal guides at work. This image of James A tkinson in the Hunter Valley c1826 shows professional and local Aboriginal guides, distinguished by the European clothing and gun of the professional guide. Guides were integral to the European settlement in the Hunter as they were elsewhere. (Source: SLNSW SSV*/Expl/1)

In contrast, the valley floor, the alluvial flats and the rivers were common ground, the space where most of the interactions between the Aboriginal and European inhabitants took place, a space that the American cultural theorist Mary Louise Pratt has referred to as a contact zone. Pratt’s contact zone is the area of imperial encounters where “people geographically and historically separated came into contact with each other and establish ongoing relations”. She used the term contact zone instead of frontier which she took to be grounded in a European expansionist idea. 27 The frontier is the European view of the space, while contact zone shifts this viewpoint to include all participants. Whereas the colonial Europeans in Australia referred to limits of location, and settlement boundaries,

Aboriginal people in the Hunter and elsewhere moved back and forth across these

27 M. L. Pratt, 2007, Imperial Eyes: Travel Writing and Transculturation , 2 nd Edition, Routledge, New York, p. 8.

249 “frontiers” at will. By recognising this, the interactive, improvisational aspects of imperial encounters can be re-examined and the people involved seen not in terms of their separateness, but rather in their co-presence, interaction, interlocking understandings and practices. 28 However, the contact zone was also one of confrontation and violence. It was not the same space or context as the “middle ground” that the Aboriginal guides had inhabited, because in the contact zone, the power balance had shifted, with Europeans in an increasingly dominant position. 29

It was during the earlier contact zone period, in the 1820s and 1830s that Aboriginal people began to be integrated into the European economy by working on the stations, estates and small farms of the settlers. The Hunter Valley was developing as a shared landscape.

Archaeologist Rodney Harrison has explored this shared colonial experience with particular emphasis on the pastoral industry that developed in earnest from the 1840s, where the sharing is in reference as much to the physical, overlapping occupation of the land as to the interwoven histories of the Aboriginal and European populations occupying it. Harrison makes the point the Aboriginal and Europeans engaged in a process of negotiated, intersecting histories around the historic or post-contact sites associated with the pastoral industry. 30 In the Hunter, Aboriginal workers were present on many of the estates and farms from the earliest years after European arrival. But as Harrison also points out, the shared or mutual history extends beyond the place of work to the experience of colonial frontier living. Although the experience was very different for Aboriginal and European residents, with race and class being major underlying factors, their histories are

28 Pratt, Imperial Eyes , p. 8. 29 Castle and Hagan, ’Settlers and the State’, 24. European bushman, hunters, stockmen and convicts also crossed these ‘frontiers’, showing them to be closer to an official ideal of the colonial space rather than any actual boundary on the ground. 30 R. Harrison, 2004, Shared Landscapes: Archaeologies of Attachment and the Pastoral Industry in New South Wales , UNSW Press, Sydney, p. 6.

250 interwoven. Aboriginal people and Europeans lived in the same space, crossing paths throughout the colonial period, shaping each other’s lived experience of the place.

Although the administration in Sydney considered that work would be a useful tool in

“civilising” the Aboriginal people the reasons for the individual settler to employ local people was less altruistic and more for convenience or the exploitation of a particular skill set. Emancipist settlers were the first to employ Aboriginal farm hands to assist in the harvest of their crops. In evidence presented to Commissioner Bigge in 1820, the then

Commandant of Newcastle Major James Morisset reported that while Aboriginal people were very troublesome in stealing corn (maize), they also assisted the settlers in harvesting it. 31 The employment of Aborigines in the harvest may have been a method by which the isolated small settlers sacrificed some of their crop to the locals to stave off larger scale raids on it as had been common along the Hawkesbury River in the 1790s. 32 Equally, it may have been a practical response to the labour intensive nature of the harvest and the urgency with which it needed to happen.

The employment of Aboriginal workers in the harvest continued after the valley was opened to free settlers in the 1820s. Peter Cunningham wrote in 1826 that a farm near his own in the Hunter employed almost fifty Aboriginal people to cut and carry the maize, for which they were paid by a supply of boiled pumpkins for supper. 33 George Wyndham, who purchased the Annandale estate in 1828 from the insolvent David Maziere, renamed it

Dalwood and planted maize, wheat and orchards, before turning to wine grapes. 34 In his diary, which also served as a work book for the estate, Wyndham recorded employing

Aboriginal workers from May 1830, with others helping pull the maize crop in June 1833.

31 Evidence of Major Morisset to J. T. Bigge, 17 January 1820, BT, Box 1, p. 479. 32 Karskens, The Colony , pp. 456-460. 33 Cunningham, Two Years in NSW Vol. II, p. 193. 34 J. McIntyre, 2012, First Vintage: Wine in Colonial New South Wales , UNSW Press, Sydney, pp. 202- 203.

251 There is also some evidence of Aboriginal men helping with planting grape vines on the property in the later 1830s. 35 Although Wyndham actively employed Aboriginal workers, his maize was also targeted by Aboriginal raiders and his diary records trouble with local

Aborigines at Harpers Bush, the adjacent property, with mounted police and local men pursuing them in February 1833. 36

Alexander Harris, who wrote an account of his time working in the Hunter, Port Stephens and in the Illawarra and Southern Districts in the 1820s and 1830s, advised newly arrived settlers to treat Aboriginal people kindly. If treated kindly, Harris noted, they were of

“great service” on small farms as they were skilled in “stripping bark, showing new runs, tracking lost bullocks and sheep, &c. &c.”, and it was the “secret of restraining their tendency to furtive and vindictive depredations”.37 Harris observed that small farmers who could not afford to pay for labourers, or had no convicts assigned, invariably maintained good relations with local Aboriginal people for the sake of obtaining their assistance in agricultural work. Echoing Governors Macquarie and Gipps, Harris observed that if:

there is anything to be done for the civilisation of the blacks and to prevent their

utter extermination, it will be found in the encouragement of amicable relations

which so easily establish themselves between them and the small settler. 38

Harris’ concerns for the welfare of Aboriginal people and for the small settler came from his wanderings and work in NSW. His employment on rural estates had bought him into contact with both groups, who he believed were being forced from land that was theirs by

35 George Wyndham Diary 1830-1840, ML, B1313; http://www.historyofaboriginalsydney.edu.au/north-west/working-land-%E2%80%93-more-early- family-history-gavi-duncan accessed 23 Sept 2014. 36 George Wyndham Diary 1830-1840, ML, B1313. 37 A. Harris, Settlers and Convicts: recollections of Sixteen Years‘ Labour in the Australian Backwoods by an Emigrant Mechanic , Melbourne University Press, 1977, p. 160. 38 Harris, Settlers and Convicts , p. 233.

252 right, through birth or work, by large landholders, interested in nothing but profit and power. 39

Work on the farms of small settlers was not only advantageous to those settlers who could not afford free European labourers or convicts (whom they had to feed and clothe), but also suited the traditional cycles of Aboriginal people. The work was often piecework or contract labour, which suited Aboriginal workers due to the seasonal and irregular pattern.

People could come and go as the work required, allowing for traditional ceremonies and practices to be maintained, while the interaction with the European economy gave them access to goods for themselves or to trade with other Aboriginal groups. 40

Much of the work also utilised the traditional skills of Aboriginal people, reassigned to suit the purpose of the small farmer. Edward John Eyre, who went to the Hunter in May 1833 to establish a grazing farm, used Aboriginal workers for piecework especially around shearing time. Although he had been assigned six convicts, and he was working in conjunction with his neighbour and mentor William Bell and his men, the shearing was very labour intensive, particularly the work of washing the sheep prior to the fleece being removed. The sheep needed to be fully submerged for the dirt and grit to be loosened from the fleece. To achieve this, sheep were driven into and across the river, then turned and made to swim back where they were dunked under before being penned together to await the shear. Although sheep were regularly drowned in the process, it was often a shortage of labour that prevented the adoption of more sophisticated methods. 41

A series of pens or races were constructed both on the river bank and in the river itself to hold the sheep and to direct their movement through the stages of the washing. The pens

39 Harris, Settlers and Convicts , p. 233. 40 Castle and Hagan, ‘Settlers and the State’, 30. 41 Waterhouse, A Vision Splendid , p. 79.

253 were constructed using bark strips and slabs from Box or Stingy Bark trees growing on the property and Eyre employed Aboriginal men to cut and prepare these strips for their construction. Eyre had previously seen bark canoes on the river capable of holding between six and eight people, but noted that the method of preparing the bark for canoes was different to that used to make the pens and races, indicating a change in practice to suit the European use of the traditional material. Sheets of between six and twelve feet square were cut for the sheep pens, flattened by heating them on the inside as a cooper would heat his barrel staves. Eyre thought the Aborigines “very skilful and expeditious”.42

Figure 20 : Aboriginal men build a bark lean -to for a European’s comfort. Note the man cutting bark from the tree on the left. (Source: SLNSW, James Atkinson, The State of Agriculture & Grazing in NSW , London 1826)

Although Helenus Scott thought Aboriginal people unsuited to hard work due in large part to their “wandering life” and their “lack of strength”, he too employed them extensively at

Glendon for seasonal work, including gathering and husking the maize, weeding the land

42 E. J. Eyre, ‘Autobiographical Narrative of residence and exploration in Australia 1832-1841’, ML A1806, pp. 50-51.

254 and occasionally hoeing and preparing ground for planting. Like Eyre, Scott took advantage of their bark cutting and forming skills for roofing sheds and other buildings on the farm. 43

One of the obstacles that presented itself was language. Scott used a form of hybridised

English and Aboriginal language to communicate with his workers. In 1827, answering a query from his mother as to how he communicated with his Aboriginal workers, he told her he knew of only two or three Europeans who could speak the language, and although some

Aboriginals spoke good English, the general language was a corruption of both English and the Aboriginal language. As an example, he wrote:

we say ‘you bring it me badoo & me give it you ripo & mite, bell me

gammon’ which means ‘you bring me water (a bucket of) & I will give you a

water melon & a cob of corn, I will not deceive you’. Badoo is water, ripo a

ripe water melon (of which they are particularly fond), mite is the young

maize before it is ripe and when roasted or boiled is very good eating for

whites or blacks, bel is no, not, don’t etc as in ‘bet bel? you go’; don’t you

go; he might answer in the same Anglo-Black lingo ‘How many you give it

me bulla carbon fellow? Bugeree you! Where sit down bucket?; how many

will you give me? Two large ones? Very good. Where is the bucket? 44

At his Lake Macquarie mission, Lancelot Threlkeld, who was learning and translating the language, employed Aborigines as part of his wider evangelical plan to civilise them, with the men clearing the land and working the fields to supply the mission throughout its operation. In 1827 he reported having nearly sixty Aboriginal men working to clear twenty five acres of ground for cultivation, for which he paid them in flour and clothing. He also noted that as new farms started around his mission, they too employed Aboriginal workers

43 Helenus Scott, letter to his mother, 16 April 1827, Scott Family Correspondence, ML, A2264. 44 Helenus Scott, letter to his mother, 16 April 1827.

255 to help them clear their small plots. 45 On the million acre estate of the Australian

Agricultural Company (A. A. Co.) north of Newcastle and inland from Port Stephens,

Aboriginal workers helped clear land, chop wood and carry water. They also supplied fish to the Europeans, worked the saw pits alongside European workmates, manned the boats to transport workers across the inlet and up the rivers and creeks that fed into Port

Stephens and served as guides and scouts for the company’s commissioner Robert Dawson.

Aboriginal women were also employed in domestic service in the huts of the company managers. Dawson recorded that, while he employed them in large numbers and he could get any work he desired done by them, they were not always the same people. Hundreds of Aboriginal men and women came and went from the Company camps, working where and when they wanted, for varying lengths of time before heading off again into the bush. 46

In 1841 William Ogilvie of Merton gave evidence to a Select Committee to the NSW

Legislative Council on the employment of Aborigines on his estate. The Committee was investigating the question of immigration to address the problem of a declining rural workforce as convict transportation to NSW ceased. They sought the opinions of rural estate holders from across NSW on the employment of Aborigines on their farms and whether this might help alleviate the shortages. Addressing a questionnaire, Ogilvie wrote that he occasionally employed Aborigines on his estate, with one, named Roger, in permanent work as a shepherd. This man was lame from a spear wound in the foot that prevented him earning his livelihood in the traditional way, and was paid with food and clothing. Despite employing Aborigines himself, Ogilvie thought the only way they might be induced to work on the farms permanently was to cut off their big toes so “they could

45 Cunningham, Two Years in NSW Vol. II, p. 189. Gunson, Australian Reminiscences , p. 96. 46 D. Bairstow, ‘With the best will in the world: Some records of early white contact with the Gampignal on Australian Agricultural Company’s estate at Port Stephens’, Aboriginal History , Vol. 17, No. 1, 1993, 10. Dawson acted as Commissioner from the establishment of the AA Co. run at Port Stephens in 1825 until 1828.

256 not then climb the trees to get opossums”. Less sarcastically, Ogilvie wondered why, with food available through just two hours of hunting or in fishing, Aborigines would agree to engage in the drudgery of labouring for Europeans. He noted they were not labourers for the same reasons gentlemen were not labourers: they could live comfortably without performing any labour. 47 Ogilvie’s insights offer a rare glimpse at a reasonable contemplation of the Aboriginal position in the colonial Hunter, especially in the 1840s as the pressure of European occupation increased. It is also the view of a European male, in that he did not consider the role of Aboriginal women in day-to-day food gathering and collection. His comparison to gentlemen was an apt one, as European gentlemen also had little to do with the day-to-day domestic tasks.

Phillip Parker King, the commissioner for the A. A. Co. between 1839 and 1849, also answered the Committee’s questions. Like Dawson in the late 1820s, King acknowledged the usefulness of Aboriginal workers on the vast estates that made up the company holdings. King noted that they were particularly fond of being employed as shepherds or as stockmen, but they often went off without warning or consideration of the company’s convenience. Their absence was often protracted, and when they returned, if re- employed, they resumed as if nothing had happened. The company had also recently employed two Aboriginal shepherds to whom they paid a wage of eight pounds per annum, rather than clothing and rations that they had previously paid. King explained it was a new approach to see if they stayed working for longer. Twenty two Aboriginal men were permanently employed by the company, fifteen as shepherds, four as stockmen, one

47 William Ogilvie, Evidence to Select Committee of the Legislative Council of NSW on Immigration Response to Circular on Aboriginal Labourers, Australian Aboriginals: Reports on Employment and Civilisation, July 1832-July1841, ML, A611, CY Reel 528, pp. 97-100.

257 looking after the horses, one at the boat station and one as a constable. Others were employed as needed manning boats and acting as messengers. 48

Both Ogilvie and King confirmed Aboriginal people’s preference for piecework, and for shepherding and stock work that allowed them to move about within their country, keeping a connection to the land alive. Both men, although expressing some frustration at the habits of their workers, also appear to accept their comings and goings, although whether they fully appreciated the reasons is not clear. Their evidence indicates the survival of traditional practices in some form into the early 1840s.

Aboriginal people had also been coming and going from the fledgling towns since the convict station at Newcastle had been established. By the 1820s, they also began to increasingly find work in the developing towns such as Maitland, Paterson and at

Newcastle. In 1827 Threlkeld complained of the corrupting influence of Newcastle on his

Aboriginal companions, whom he said were drawn to the place to drink, or to work as prostitutes. 49 A correspondent to The Australian newspaper in the same year wrote that the Aboriginal inhabitants outnumbered the Europeans in Newcastle, and that they were the willing servants of the lower classes, carrying wood and water for them for payment of tobacco or food. Aboriginal people were a familiar presence in the town, with the correspondent noting:

They go perfectly naked, and walk in and out of the houses before the eyes

of the English females, without creating the smallest notice or concern.

Such is habit. 50

48 Phillip Parker King, Evidence to Select Committee of the Legislative Council of NSW on Immigration, Response to Circular on Aboriginal Labourers, Australian Aboriginals: Reports on Employment and Civilisation, July 1832-July1841, ML, A611, CY Reel 528, pp. 123-131. 49 Gunson, Australian Reminiscences , p. 97 50 ‘Account of a trip to Hunter’s River’, The Australian , 31 January 1827, p. 3

258 By 1838, Threlkeld wrote that although their numbers had fallen and were now relatively low, Aboriginal people were performing so many tasks for the people of Newcastle that they were fully and constantly employed and could choose what jobs suited their habits best. Threlkeld listed fishing, shooting, boating, carrying wood, collecting water and acting as guides as some of the task work undertaken by an embryonic population of urban

Aboriginal people. 51 James Backhouse also saw Aborigines collecting water and cutting timber for the residents of Maitland in 1843. 52 Around the same time, a resident of

Paterson, near Maitland wrote of an Aboriginal man named Jamie, who would regularly come and stay with the family for a week, working in the kitchen for the cook in exchange for food. Jamie was clothed and fed by the family, although when invited to sleep in the kitchen or one of the outbuildings, he would instead return to the bush, reappearing the following morning. The settler complained that the clothes would never last a week.

Perhaps Jamie was exchanging them as a trade item or giving them as gifts, or he understood the significance of being clothed to Europeans but retained a more traditional appearance when returning to the bush and his people. 53

Adaptations and survival The lure of the towns for Aboriginal people in the Hunter from the late 1820s represented the beginnings of serious dislocations in traditional lifestyle. The townships, particularly

Newcastle and Maitland, offered not only potential for work, but also some form of protection from the violence of the frontier zone, regular food and access to tobacco and other European luxuries. 54 The transition from a bush life to a town life was not immediate, but came gradually in the Hunter, with some groups still living a traditional lifestyle and others a type of hybrid lifestyle, halfway between a traditional and an urban

51 Gunson, Australian Reminiscences , p. 144 52 Backhouse, A Narrative of a Visit , p. 389 53 G.F. Davidson, 1846, Trade and Travel in the Far East; or Recollections of Twenty-One Years passed in Java, Singapore, Australia and China , Madden and Malcom, London, p. 144. 54 Reynolds, The Other Side of the Frontier , p. 194.

259 life. Ceremonies were conducted around Bulga and Port Stephens into the later 1850s and

1860s at least, and Aboriginal people came in for food and blankets into the 1880s and

1890s. 55 Some family groups camped regularly on the larger estates, which offered some of the advantages of the towns, such as a measure of protection from other Europeans and access to goods, while maintaining a stronger link to their country and traditions. One group regularly camped in the paddocks at Glendon in the 1830s, with Robert Scott providing some measure of protection for them, including the pursuit of runaway convicts who had attacked them in 1833. 56

Camping on the estates or moving into and out of the settlements also gave Aboriginal people access to new materials which could be adapted for use in traditional ways.

Archaeological deposits of glass implements collected near Singleton during the 1940s are evidence of this dynamic process of adaptation. Blade types and flakes, traditionally made of stone, were reproduced in glass from bottles, with green, brown, blue and amber examples, as well as deposits of broken bottles from which the pieces were shaped. The blades were recovered from sites close to the river at Singleton, with examples knapped from crockery, insulators and even roof-slate suggesting traditional tool making well into the nineteenth century. 57

The ways that Aboriginal people moved between the European towns and back to their own people suggests that the population was still viable and large enough for this to occur.

However, the number of Aboriginal people living in the Hunter in the years after the

55 A.N. Eather, The History of Bulga 1820-1921 , (manuscript) Percy Haslam Collection, University of Newcastle Cultural Collections, A5410x; W. J. Enright, ‘The initiation ceremonies of the Aborigines of Port Stephens’ , Journal of the Royal Society of NSW , Vol.33, 1899, pp. 115–124; F. D. McCarthy, ‘The Elourea Industry of Singleton, Hunter River, New South Wales’, Records of the Australian Museum , 1943, Vol. 21, No.4, 228. 56 Robert Scott to Colonial Secretary, 30 November 1833, Supreme Court Miscellaneous Correspondence relating to Aborigines, SRNSW COD 294A 5. One of the two Aboriginal men attacked, known as Joe Priest, was in possession of a musket given to him by George Wyndham, which was stolen by the convict runaway. 57 McCarthy, ’The Elourea Industry’, 226.

260 European invasion was rarely recorded, and when they were counted the evidence was often fragmentary. Some idea of the population can be gauged through official requests when blanket distributions were organised, or when potential working populations were assessed. In 1826 Governor Darling requested local magistrates and settlers on large estates to make a count of Aborigines in their district, collecting the names of “tribes and chiefs” where possible. 58 Blankets, clothes and food were offered to entice people to come in to the towns or estates to be counted.

Threlkeld at his Lake Macquarie mission, as well as the magistrates and some major estate owners from Newcastle, Wallis Plains, Patricks Plains, Paterson’s Plains, Merton, Segenhoe and Invermein, all sent in estimation of numbers in response, which equalled approximately 1,712 Aboriginal men, women and children. The vast majority of these people were located in and around Newcastle and the Lake Macquarie mission. 59

Numbers were approximate across the region. At Patricks Plains the magistrate wrote that no correct calculation could be reached as to the numbers due to “their wandering habits and constant intermixture one tribe with another” with some frequenting the settlement and others “keeping themselves entirely strangers”.60 Further inland at Merton, William

Ogilvie was equally cautious in giving a definite number as he was not able to distinguish

Aboriginal groups and the people associated with each one. Ogilvie also noted that the

Aboriginal people around his estate were connected with those around Mudgee and

Bylong in the west and those in the Liverpool Ranges and up to the Liverpool Plains in the north and moved back and forth between these areas. In 1828 Peter McIntyre at Segenhoe

58 Letters from local magistrates and settlers in response to a directive from the Governor to take a count of Aborigines in their districts, CSC, SRNSW, 4/2045. 59 Letters from local magistrates and settlers, CSC, SRNSW, 4/2045; In comparison there were approximately 3118 European’s–Analysis of 1828 Census by author. See Chapter 5 for the breakdown of the estimated total. 60 Letters from local magistrates and settlers, CSC, SRNSW, 4/2045, 27/4011.

261 said the local Aborigines had a “constant communication with the wild blacks” on the

Dividing Range towards Liverpool Plains, with Francis Little at Invermein reporting the same connections over the mountains. 61 McIntyre’s distinction between local and “wild”

Aboriginal groups may reflect his recent involvement in the violent clashes that had erupted around Segenhoe in the 1825 and 1826. It also illustrates the common perception that those Aboriginal people who lived in and around their estates were somehow domesticated, disconnected from their laws, customs and traditional lifestyle. This added to the depth of feeling when attacks occurred and European’s felt they had somehow been betrayed.

The movement of Aboriginal people around the Hunter and their connections through the mountains to the adjacent regions of Mudgee and Liverpool Plains reveals the great and continuing mobility of the people across the region and contrasts to some extent the settlers’ confinement within it. Aboriginal groups could come and go, slipping into

European society for work, blankets or food and then leaving again to return to their country. Europeans could only guess where they went, who they were in contact with or even how many were living around them. Once settled on their estates, Europeans also largely kept within the boundaries and moved via the paths and tracks that had been marked out and surveyed. Aboriginal people also moved via paths and tracks well-known to them, but these criss-crossed the Valley in all directions, with their course and purpose embedded in a wider knowledge of country set down over thousands of years of occupation. The perception that Aboriginal people could vanish, or appear to vanish, into the surrounding bush also added to some Europeans sense of unease, especially those on isolated properties. This was represented most dramatically in the violent years of the late

1820s and early 1830s when settlers were attacked by people they knew, or as some

61 Letters from local magistrates and settlers, CSC, SRNSW, 4/2045, 28/4772, 28/4871.

262 described them, the “domesticated” Aboriginals. 62 These attacks were viewed as both treacherous and bewildering by authorities, as Aborigines could be friendly and helpful at one stage, then be involved in attacks and violence soon after.

This uncertainty both in the landscape and in allegiances belied the confidence of the

Europeans as the new occupiers and masters of the land and contributed to the cycle of violence that came to the surface in the late 1820s. It laid bare the reality that the

European colonists had entered and were living within an Aboriginal world, a place already well known and understood by the Aboriginal people who lived in it. Just as Aboriginal people came and went at will from the settlements, so too would travellers often come across Aboriginal people moving easily through the bush that they were trying to negotiate.

William Breton wrote that as his party of ten approached the Hunter near Wollombi in

1833:

we fell in with several of the aborigines, and the further we rode the more

we saw, until at length there were not less than sixty with us…It was

entertaining to observe the different groupes [sic] wandering among the

trees, for we were all more or less scattered, and the shouts of the wild

denizens of the woods added to the effect 63

The obvious, although sometimes overlooked, indicator of the deep knowledge of the country and the long occupation of the Valley were the many names given to every feature and aspect of the place. The process of Aboriginal naming was intense. The Hunter River itself had different names ascribed to it along its course. Near its mouth it was known as the Coquun, while further inland it was called the Myan and the Coonanbarra. 64 The names

62 Darling to Bathurst, 6 October 1826, ML GD Volume 8 A1197, p. 336 63 Breton, Excursions in NSW , p. 90. 64 G. Albretch, ‘Rediscovering the Coquun: Towards an Environmental History of the Hunter River’, University of Newcastle Cultural Collections, Newcastle, 2000, p. 3.

263 acted like signposts in a totemic landscape, understood through the stories and mythology that went with them, each place name being part of a larger narrative that was inseparable from the people it was associated with. 65 The language of the people acted as the repository of knowledge about country, inscribing a landscape of meaning across the

Hunter. Anthropologists have referred to this integration of language and knowledge of country as the speaking land, with a constellation of Aboriginal languages across Australia all contributing. 66 Much of this was lost as Aboriginal languages themselves were lost and all that remains are hints in the landscape, names of places assigned by curious Europeans at the time but with the meaning often dislocated from the broader narrative that went with the surrounding country.

Many of the estates took their names from Aboriginal language associated with the area they were in. John Brown, who arrived in Newcastle in February 1822, was one of the first recorded settlers who employed a guide to locate his grant. Brown (no relation to Robert

Scott’s servant John Brown) headed up the Hunter River to select a suitable site for his grant, settling on 2030 acres west of Green Hills (Morpeth). He reportedly chose the estate name, Bolwarra, as it had been used by his Aboriginal guide, and was said to mean a “flash of light”.67 Bolwarra, now a suburb of Maitland, remains as one of the earliest post-convict settlement examples of Aboriginal naming in the valley. Although he did not elaborate, the

Hunter Valley is beset with lightning in the summer months. The hot, dry air produces wild displays in the late afternoon, and so the flash of light, or Bolwarra, likely refers to the lightning storms of a Hunter summer.

65 J. F. Atchison, ‘Australian place-names and cartographers’, Cartography , Vol. 12, No.3 March 1982, 151. 66 T. Bonyhady and T. Griffiths, Words for Country: Landscape & Language in Australia , UNSW Press, Sydney, 2002, p. 2. 67 The Australian , 28 February 1834, p. 3.

264 Many of the early journals, diaries and letters written by Europeans coming into the valley record Aboriginal words and place names, although not all were fully understood or attributed correctly. On his arrival at the edge of the mountains, and looking towards the

Hunter for the first time in 1819, John Howe saw a heavy fog sitting over the valley in front of them. His guides told him he was looking at the Coomery Roy, which Howe took as the name for the mist and which later became associated with the area around Singleton.

Howe later corrected himself, saying the guides were referring to the Coomery Roy Creek, now Doyles Creek, which ran through the valley. However an alternative suggestion was that they were actually describing the country that lay ahead and into which the creek ran as that of the Kamilaroi people, misheard by Howe as Coomery Roy. 68 This is the most likely explanation, as the guides became more alert approaching another group’s Country, which was demonstrated by their refusing to go any further after the camp was surveiled by local warriors. 69

Curious settlers and officials quickly collected names for many of the features across the

Hunter, acknowledging an Aboriginal past on the one hand while inscribing their own

European names onto the land with another. At the Scott’s Glendon estate, named after their home in Surrey, Helenus wrote to his mother concerning an overland journey to

Sydney when the party had travelled via the mountain road through the Bulga Mountains,

“but I believe more properly ‘bulkra’ is the native name for a mountain” he explained. 70

Bulga stuck as the mountain ranges’ name and for the small village that grew at their base, but Scott shows the simplification of the sound for European tongues, a process that was repeated in other areas, like Wollombi (Wallumbi).

68 Macqueen, Somewhat Perilous , p. 97. 69 Howe, ‘Journal’, Saturday 6 November 1819. 70 Helenus Scott, Letter to mother, October 1824.

265 Edward Close, the magistrate at Green Hills (later renamed Morpeth) recorded the names for the river, swamps and prominent landforms around his estate. The Aboriginal name for

Bishops Hill where his residence was situated was Terrymilla, the area of European settlement was Illulong, the river was Coonanbarra, and Wallis Creek was Bomi, the swamps nearby were Daragen (Morpeth Swamp) and Bomabeg (Back Morpeth Swamp). Of the place names recorded, Tenambit for the eastern point of a sharp bend in the river, called Narrowgut by Europeans, survives as a suburb of Maitland, while Merrilong, changed to Merrylong, identifies Day Hill, now a park behind Close’s surviving house in Morpeth. 71

On the edge of the mountains north of Patricks Plains, George Boyle White and his wife

Maria (second daughter of James Mudie), retained the Aboriginal name Mirannie for their property, as did George Wyndham for his second estate in the upper Hunter near the

Goulburn River, which he called Miangarinda. 72

Similarly, Houston Mitchell, brother of Sir Thomas Mitchell took the name Walka for part of his estate directly across the river from Brown’s Bolwarra estate near Maitland. As he explained:

The Aboriginal name for the hilly part of my grant is Walka and the lake is

called Potay. This information I distinctly received from about 50 natives

who were seated at their respective fires on the prettiest part of Walka 73

Houston recorded other names for his property from the Aboriginal groups camping around his estate, including Coolumbundara, which covered 515 acres in the west of his property and Yawarang, the name of the swamp, given to him separately by two different

71 Jane Dickson, ‘Notes with news cuttings 1838-1877’, ML, MSS 1972. 72 B. T. Dowd and A. Fink, ‘”Harlequin of the Hunter”: Major James Mudie of Castle Forbes (Part I)’, JRAHS, Vol. 54, Part 4, December 1968, 383; Wood Dawn in the Valley , p. 281; Breton Excursions in NSW , p. 96. 73 Houston Mitchell to Thomas Mitchell, 9 April 1831, Papers of Sir TL Mitchell, Vol. 3: 1830-1839, ML CYA292, p. 123.

266 Aboriginal men. Although these two names did not migrate into the European nomenclature, so taken was Houston with Walka that he not only named his estate after it,

(it survives in present day Maitland), but also took Walka as a nom de plume for correspondence to the Sydney newspapers. 74 Sir Thomas Mitchell, in his role as Surveyor

General, encouraged his surveyors and map makers to retain Aboriginal names where possible. The reasons Europeans chose Aboriginal words and names for their estates were rarely explained in their letters and journals. Houston Mitchell’s and John Brown’s acknowledgement of the origin suggests some adopted the names as the “actual” or authentic name for their new home. It may have been a form of anchoring themselves in a new place, or recognition of the deep roots that predated their own arrival. For others it may have been an appropriation of the place, name and all, for themselves; a stamp of ownership over all the land and its identity. 75

Surveyor Henry Dangar also recorded Aboriginal names on the map he drew in 1828 to accompany his emigrants’ guide to the Hunter Valley. Across the entire region, Dangar noted approximately 40 Aboriginal names for prominent features such as hills, islands, harbour entrances, swamps and creeks. The majority were clustered around the harbours at Newcastle, Port Stephens and Lake Macquarie, where Threlkeld had established his mission. Around Newcastle, Aboriginal names were assigned to beaches, headlands and islands: Tahlbihn Point at the entrance to the river, Burrabihmgarn also near the entrance,

Corrumbah near present day Stockton and Burraghihnbihng for the large swamp on the western edge of the settlement. Except for the entrance to Lake Macquarie, which was identified as Reid’s Mistake, all the features named in this body of water and its

74 Houston Mitchell to Thomas Mitchell, 18 April 1830, 30 May 1830, pp. 17, 32; Sydney Herald [hereafter SH] , 8 August 1831; SH , 5 February 1835. 75 Griffiths, Hunters and Collectors , p. 223.

267 surrounding shores (nine in total) were given their Aboriginal names, of which Wonde

Wonde survives as Wangi Wangi and Buhlbah Island as Pulbah Island.

However inland, in the “good country” along the river where the farms were being surveyed, the Aboriginal names largely disappear from Dangar’s map. Some of the farms appear to have Aboriginal names associated with them, such as Yarraconill and Yarrabung in the mid valley, but these are surrounded by the likes of Melville, Rosebrook and

Abergaveney. A few mountains and landscape features also retained their Aboriginal identity such as Kolen kolen Mountain and the Bundanbing Hills or Purandarra Brook and

Munnimbah Brook near Singleton (later changed to Jump Up Creek and Mudies Creek respectively), but they are scattered. Of these only Munnimbah survives in the altered form of Minninbah, given to a grand house that overlooks the brook.

268

Figure 21 : Henry Dangar’s Map of the River Hunter and its branche s, 1828. This plan shows the lands alienated as land grants to emigrants from Newcastle through the Valley to the confluence of the Hunter and in the northwest. (Source: NLA map nk 646 v)

The cartographic historian and geographer Brian Harley has shown that maps are never value free documents, but reflect the politics and power structures of the map maker. In imperial contexts, the map was used to legitimise the reality of colonial conquest and the

269 extension of empire. Harley argues that the “silences” or omissions on maps exert a social and political message as great as any inclusions. In Australia, the exclusion of Indigenous names and the overlay of European names reinforced that Europeans had a right to the territorial claims being made.76 As we have seen, Aboriginal people still lived in the Hunter

Valley in substantial numbers when Dangar’s survey was being carried out. Following

Harley’s model, it may then be argued that Dangar, in writing his Index and compiling his map for the emigrants in London, deliberately avoided Aboriginal naming of place he considered the best land. His Index was an example of the growing genre of “booster” or

“emigration” literature encouraging emigrants to leave England to take advantage of opportunities in newly colonised lands. The pamphlets and books of this new form of booster literature coincided with a shift in the attitude towards emigrating. Whereas in the years prior to the end of Napoleonic Wars emigration was most often viewed in England as a form of social expulsion and connected it to transportation, in the years after 1815, with new colonial enterprise in Canada and North America, and after the Bigge Report in

Australia, emigrants were increasingly equated with a genteel, monied class. 77 The term settler took hold for those heading to Australia and the Hunter Valley and it was this market Dangar was aiming for with his Index and accompanying map. His lack of Aboriginal names may then have been a deliberate marketing ploy to avoid informing potential emigrants of the ongoing occupation of the Hunter by Aboriginal people. So while swamps and scrubby coastal places or inaccessible mountain peaks were allowed to retain their

Aboriginal identity, the promising country of the alluvial flats was considered to be British land. Emigrants were more interested in settling on land apparently empty of previous occupants and therefore removed from any potential conflict or confrontation. Although

76 J. B. Harley, ‘Maps, knowledge and power’, in Cosgrove, D and S Daniels (eds), The Iconography of Landscapes , Cambridge, London, 1988, p. 292. 77 J. Belich, Replenishing the Earth: The Settler revolution and the Rise of the Anglo-World 1783-1939 , Oxford University Press, Oxford, 2009, p. 152.

270 Dangar had no Aboriginal guide on his survey team, it is unlikely that he was ignorant of the

Aboriginal names inland while being aware of them for the coast, as his own grant and farm were located on the river near Singleton close to Munnimbah Brook, itself probably a traditional name.

Despite the absence of Aboriginal names on the official maps, some settlers were aware of a cultural whitewash underway. The most vocal of these critics was the Reverend John

Dunmore Lang, whose brother had a farm on the Hunter River. In his book An Historical and Statistical Account of New South Wales both as a Penal Settlement and as a British

Colony , Lang noted the Aboriginal names of the principal rivers in the Valley as the Coquun

(Hunters River), the Doorribang (Williams River) and the Yimmang (Paterson’s River). Yet the rivers were named after the Governor and Colonel William Paterson of the NSW Corps:

Preposterously enough! For all three rivers had had native names much

more beautiful and highly significant, as all native names are, from time

immemorial. Every remarkable point of land, every hill and valley in the

territory, had its native name, given, as far as can be ascertained from

particular instances, from some remarkable feature of the particular

locality – insomuch that the natives can make appointments in their forests

and valleys, with as much accuracy in regard to place, as an inhabitant of

London in the streets of the metropolis.

Surely then, when there are such unexceptionable and really interesting

names affixed already to every remarkable locality in the country, it is

preposterous in the extreme to consign these ancient appellations to

oblivion, in order to make way for the name of whatever insignificant

271 appendage to the colonial government a colonial surveyor may think

proper to immortalize. 78

Although Lang stated that the Aboriginal names for the rivers were relatively well known in the district, he claimed that most of the settlers, when asked could not give the traditional name for the river they lived on, having never had the curiosity to ask. 79 Breton had also noted the fact that the rivers’ Aboriginal names had been replaced, and, comparing them to the Aboriginal names for the rivers in County Argyle (around present day Goulburn), wondered if their original titles may have been more euphonious. 80

As well as the lost names and language, Aboriginal knowledge of the country was also beyond the reach of many of the settlers. An understanding of the seasons, the rivers and their flood patterns were essential for successful farming on the alluvial plains that extended out either side of the valley water courses. Following devastating floods in 1857 and 1870, a Parliamentary enquiry took evidence from some of the oldest European residents still living along the river between Maitland and Singleton in order to compare earlier known flood heights. John Eckford settler at Maitland since 1818, John Brown, at

Singleton since 1823, John Kennedy Howe, son of John Howe who discovered the overland route to the Hunter in 1819, John Wyndham, son of George Wyndham of Dalwood, Alfred

Glennie, brother to early settler James Glennie, and Alexander Munro who arrived in

Singleton in 1830, all gave evidence of their experience in the early floods. 81

Munro told the commissioners that he did not think any European would remember the floods of 1820. Although Aboriginal people had said the floods of 1857 were higher, he did

78 J. D. Lang, An Historical and Statistical Account of New South Wales both as a Penal Settlement and as a British Colony, Volume II, Cochrane and McCrone, London, 1834, p. 114. 79 Lang, An Historical and Statistical Account , p. 115. 80 Breton, Excursions in NSW , p. 127. 81 Report of Commission Appointed to Enquire into and Report Respecting Floods in the District of the Hunter River , Votes and Proceedings NSW Legislative Assembly 1870/71 Vol. 4, Minutes of Evidence.

272 not believe that the information given by them could be relied on in this regard. 82

Wyndham however gave evidence of the Aboriginal testimony to early residents and the warnings given by them. He remembered old Aboriginal residents saying that, before the

Europeans arrived, floods had covered the hills outside Singleton, forcing them to climb the trees to avoid the water, and that the river terrace where Robert and Helenus Scott built

Glendon had been inundated, with only a small section left dry. In the same flood, all the kangaroos and emus trapped on high ground near Maitland had been drowned. Wyndham also recalled that John Lanarch and John Howe had both confirmed drift wood and debris in the trees on top of the two hills where the Aborigines had sought refuge and that

Benjamin Singleton had seen drift wood and debris stuck in trees 16 feet [5 m]above the ground. 83

Despite the warnings, the earliest settlers all took land along the river. Helenus Scott explained to his sister Augusta that all the finest settlements were on the river and liable to be flooded, but they preferred the risk, as flooded land was so much richer than any other. 84 James Mudie’s Castle Forbes estate was devastated by floods in 1825, with his house, farm buildings and crops all swept away. The damage was so great, Mudie requested a convict carpenter be sent by the Government to help him rebuild. In the

1830s, William Breton noted the poor choice of site for the growing town of Maitland.

While the government buildings, like the gaol and courthouse were out of flood reach, the houses of the residents were clustered along the banks of the river and a creek that entered it. Breton predicted that the next flood would wash them all away. However for the residents, the convenience of the location, close to the wharves and loading stages for

82 Alexander Munro evidence, Report of Commission Appointed to Enquire into and Report Respecting Floods in the District of the Hunter River , p. 59 83 John Wyndham evidence, Report of Commission Appointed to Enquire into and Report Respecting Floods in the District of the Hunter River , p. 121. 84 Helenus Scott, Letter to Augusta, 8 May 1824.

273 the trading ships that plied from there to Sydney and beyond overcame any fears of inundation. 85

Not all Europeans ignored the knowledge gained through close relationships with

Aboriginal people. Martin Cash was a convict assigned to George Bowman and in 1828 was working on “Wie Bung” farm on the Wybong River near present day Denman, where he and another convict were in charge of Bowman’s cattle. Occasional visits by Aborigines, whom he described as friendly and obliging, were the only contacts they had on the isolated run. To supplement his diet, Cash fished in the river for perch and mullet. To catch mullet, which rarely took a hook, Cash used a method learnt from the Aboriginal visitors. The bark of a local tree was heated under the ashes of a fire for an hour before being placed in small nets and plunged into the water holes, where the fish congregated, whereupon the fish would come to the surface and could be plucked from the water with

“the slightest difficulty”. As mullet were the only thing the Aborigines would not barter,

Cash learnt the fishing technique himself to satisfy his appetite. 86

In other parts of the Hunter and on its fringes, settlers traded with Aborigines for fresh fish and other seafood. At Port Stephens, Susan Caswell, wife of Lieutenant William Caswell traded tobacco with the local Aboriginal people for fresh fish and oysters from the bay to supplement the family diet. The Caswell property was called Tanilba, said to be an

Aboriginal name for the area, which in turn was adopted by Susan as the name for one of her own daughters born on the estate. 87

As well as the trade of food stuffs and Aboriginal knowledge, collecting was another common connection between Aboriginal people and settlers. Europeans had collected

Aboriginal weapons, tools, artefacts and even skulls and skeletons since the visit of Captain

85 Dowd and Fink, ’Harlequin of the Hunter Part I’, p380; Breton, Excursions in NSW , p. 120. 86 Emberg, and Emberg, Martin Cash , p. 10. 87 Letters from Susan Caswell and her daughter Emily to Catherine Jackson 1829-1851, Caswell Family Papers, ML Ac147.

274 James Cook in 1770, through a combination of friendly trade and negotiation or violence and theft. The interest in Aboriginal artefacts and native animals and plants was driven by the emerging scientific interest in anthropology and natural history amongst the gentlemen and women of the colony and their patrons in England. 88 Birds and animals had been collected out of the Hunter Valley from the first years of European occupation, with

Aboriginal people often employed in their pursuit and collection. In 1818 Governor

Macquarie was presented with a cabinet made of Hunter Valley cedar and rosewood and filled with birds, insects, shells, butterflies and marine specimens, with the fold out panels painted with images of animals, birds and scenes around Newcastle, Lake Macquarie and other landscapes. 89

At Glendon, Robert Scott employed Aboriginal people in collecting emu eggs, regent birds, insects and other specimens for him. The Scott brothers had built two collecting boxes for insects, but were struggling to find anything rare. More lucrative were the emu eggs which could fetch between 4 and 5 shillings each around the Hunter. As a single nest could hold between 6 and 15 eggs, the eggs represented a pure profit for Scott, who paid the

Aboriginal collectors nothing for them. 90 At Dalwood, George Wyndham was also collecting specimens to send to his mother and family in England. In 1837 he sent some hawks, shells and marine sponges home, which, his mother remarked, would enrich the cabinet of

Natural History at Dinton, their English estate. 91 In addition to the natural curiosities,

Wyndham also sent home a collection of possum skin cloaks. In 1835 and again in 1837 cloaks were sent first to his two sisters, then his mother, Laetita. While it is not clear from the correspondence how they came into the possession of these cloaks in the first instance,

88 Griffiths, Hunters and Collectors , p. 21. 89 E. Ellis, Rare & Curious: The Secret History of Governor Macquarie’s Collectors’ Chest , The Miegunyah Press, Melbourne, 2010, pp. 70, 233-240. 90 Helenus Scott to Patrick Scott, 26 December, 1825, Scott Family Correspondence, ML A2264. 91 C.M. Wright, 1927, Memories of Far off Days: Reminiscences’ of Mrs Charlotte Wright including copies of correspondence 1827-1898 , ML, MSS 4273, p. 20.

275 it is likely they were acquired from local Aboriginal people. Possum skin cloaks were worn in the upper reaches of the Valley, in the mountains to the south and the north close to

Wyndham’s Dalwood estate. 92 For his sister Mary Ann, the cloaks were not simply curiosities from her colonial brother, but an Imperial fashion statement. Returning from

London she wrote:

I must now tell you that during our absence the Opossum Skin Cloaks and

hawks arrived. The cloaks we were delighted with; they show so much

native ingenuity. I shall certainly parade on the Terrace in mine. They are

a great curiosity and we are much obliged to you for sending them. 93

The relationships between the Aboriginal workers, guides and traders and the European settlers in the Hunter from the 1820s through to the 1840s were complex and changing.

For guides, the advantages of working with Europeans came in the form of European goods and sometimes weapons as payments, or the increased prestige within their own community through a gained knowledge of not only European ways, but also of adjoining territories and new country. Some of these partnerships, such as that between John Howe and Myles, came about through pre-existing relationships, while others appear to have been arranged through a rudimentary labour hire service between Europeans and

Aboriginal men like Ben Davis. Aboriginal workers on the estates were engaged for different reasons. Reynolds has shown that while some worked for food or tobacco, others worked for the European people of their choice and for reasons of their own. The work was not necessarily a matter of unequal exchange, but rather just one aspect of a reciprocal relationship built up between local people who knew each other. 94 This

92 Brayshaw, Aborigines of the Hunter Valley , p. 67. 93 Mary Ann to George Wyndham, 3 August 1835, Letters to George and Margaret Wyndham, ML, MSS 190/2, p. 110. 94 Reynolds, With the White People , p. 97.

276 reciprocity formed at the same time as violent clashes, reprisals and attacks were also increasing through the Hunter Valley.

The competing narratives of co-operation and violence allows for a re-examination of

Aboriginal people’s place in history of the Hunter Valley. By drawing on their culture and economic traditions, Aboriginal people were able to negotiate a place for themselves in the rapidly changing world, a process that involved both accommodation and resistance. 95

95 MacDonald, ’Master narratives’, 167. Also Harrison, Shared Landscapes , p. 20.

277

278 Chapter 7

Daily annoyances and petty tyranny–Land, Relations and Conflicts

A hanging on the road On the morning of Saturday 21 December 1833, a melancholy procession made its way through the bush towards James Mudie’s Castle Forbes estate at Patricks Plains. In a single cart, two shackled prisoners sat on top of their own coffins, escorted by sixteen mounted police, two non-commissioned officers and the officer-in-charge to protect against any ambush or escape attempt. The two condemned men were Anthony Hitchcock and John

Poole, the ringleaders of an uprising involving six convicts at Castle Forbes six weeks earlier.

Both men were to be hanged on a scaffold erected at the road side close to where their crimes had been committed. 1 Three of their four co-conspirators, John Perry, James Riley and James Ryan were mounting the gallows in Sydney at the same time. The fourth, David

Jones, had escaped the hangman but was on his way to Norfolk Island with a life sentence.

Hitchcock and Poole had arrived at the Green Hills wharf (Morpeth) on board the steam ship Sophia Jane around 4pm on the previous day. Their late arrival meant that the party was forced to camp in the bush over night to ensure they got to Castle Forbes at 9am, the appointed time of the execution. But when they finally arrived at the temporary gallows there was no blacksmith to break the shackles, and so the condemned were loaded back onto the cart and taken on to the settlement at Darlington (Singleton) where a blacksmith who could remove their irons was working. Even after this delay, when the men were returned at noon and the convicts of Castle Forbes assembled to witness, no Church minister was present, although the time and place of execution were well known in the

1 SH , 30 December 1833, p. 2.

279 district and the Maitland chaplain had spent the night less than eight miles from Castle

Forbes. A convict schoolmaster was made to stand in for the chaplain, while Poole provided his own written tracts of scripture for his fellow convicts to read. The fatigued prisoners offered no comment from the scaffold and the convict crowd watched the sentence carried out in silence. The gallows were left standing until at least March 1834 as a warning to the convicts of the Hunter Valley. 2

In Sydney, the Reverend John Joseph Therry attended the execution of Ryan, Riley and

Perry at the gaol in The Rocks, where one of the biggest public crowds in recent memory watched it from the hill behind the prison. 3 The execution of the five men was the end point of what has become known as the Castle Forbes Revolt. Although in itself a relatively minor event, the revolt came to represent the climax of a decade of tension in the Hunter between emigrant land owners, emancipist farmers and the convict population, and it sparked a wider debate over convict discipline and masters’ rights across the entire colony.

The Revolt at Castle Forbes The revolt began on the morning of 5 November 1833. Early that day, three of Mudie’s convicts, Hitchcock, Jones and Stephen Parrot were being transferred to Maitland to join an iron gang after their plot to abscond from Mudie’s service had been thwarted by an informer. The three men, in irons, were being escorted by just one constable from Patricks

Plains. Approximately two and a half kilometres from Castle Forbes, five armed men, identified as Perry, Riley, Ryan, Poole and James Henderson confronted Constable Cook and freed the prisoners, before chaining Cook and Parrot to a tree. Parrot had refused to join the runaways and tried in vain to persuade Ryan, who was only 17 years old, to stay

2 SH , 30 December 1833, p. 2; The Sydney Monitor , 10 January 1834, p. 2; SH 31 March 1834, p. 3. 3 SH , 23 December 1833, p. 2.

280 with him. 4 Henderson had absconded from a road gang a few days earlier, Poole had absconded from Mudie ten days before, and the rest had run from Castle Forbes the previous night. 5

Instead of leaving the district, the gang of seven returned to Castle Forbes, rushing into the main yard around midday. Armed with muskets, fowling-pieces and double barrelled guns, the gang rounded up the convicts and workers who were in the house, the barn and the stable and locked them into the wood store. Mudie’s daughter Emily, who was married to

Mudie’s principal overseer John Lanarch, attempted to escape the raid with one of her female servants by clambering out of their dressing room window. But the women were also caught, and Poole, Jones and Henderson threatened to shoot them if they did not stop. Then they threatened to shoot anyone else who tried to escape. As Emily and her servant were pushed into the wood store, Riley told her of the gang’s intent to seek revenge on her husband for what they considered his harsh treatment and the excessive use of the lash on the estate. Riley declared that they would bring Lanarch’s head back and stick it in the chimney and wished her father was home (Mudie was in Sydney) so they could settle their grievances with him too. After ransacking the house and stealing food, tea, coats and trousers, shirts, five guns and rifles, two pistols, ammunition, a tomahawk, silver forks and spoons and three horses, the gang corralled the shearers and other servants into the wool store and placed Jones on guard. The gang then mounted the stolen horses and headed towards the river where Lanarch was supervising the washing of the

4 B. T. Dowd and A. Fink, ‘”Harlequin of the Hunter”: Major James Mudie of Castle Forbes (Part II)’, JRAHS , Vol. 55, Part 1, March 1969, 86. Despite Parrot having been sentenced to an iron gang, he was returned to Mudie following his refusal to join the runaways. However in February 1834 he was given 25 lashes for insolence and absconded in April having been heard to declare he wished he had been hung with the rest of them rather than continue his service at Castle Forbes: see Singleton Register of Convict Punishments, 1833-1839, SRNSW 7/3714, Reel 681 and SG , 10 April 1834, p. 2. 5 Evidence of John Lanarch, SH , 16 December 1833, p. 2.

281 estate’s sheep. 6 The next few minutes sealed their fate and transformed them from absconders into bushrangers with a price on their heads.

Lanarch heard a voice demanding “Come out of the water every bloody one of you or we’ll blow your bloody brains out”. Turning he saw three men with guns aimed at him advancing along the bank of the river, including Hitchcock and Poole, with the others approaching from a different direction to cut off any possible escape. Warning the other convict washers to get out of the way lest they be caught in crossfire, Hitchcock, “not having the fear of God before his eyes but being moved and seduced by the instigation of the Devil” fired at Lanarch, who quickly turned and scrambled for the opposite bank. As the shots rang out, Hitchcock and Poole called to Lanarch that he would take no more men to court and that they would take care that he never flogged another man. They declared him a villain and a tyrant. With cries of fire again, fire again, Poole discharged his weapon, and, as Lanarch reached the top of the bank, Henderson also fired. When Lanarch stumbled the attackers thought they had hit him, and although he was now on foot in open ground, they did not pursue him. 7

6 Dowd and Fink, ’Harlequin of the Hunter, Part II’,86. 7 Dowd and Fink, ’Harlequin of the Hunter Part II’, 87. Also Supreme Court Records, The King v Anthony Hitchcock (also called Anthony Hath), John Poole, James Reiley, David Jones, John Perry, James Ryan , SRNSW, 33/234–236. SG , 12 December 1833, p. 2.

282

Figure 2 2: Part of an 1840 sale plan for the Castle Forbes Estate. The plan shows the position of the Castle Forbes complex, the windmill on the high ground to the left and the river where Lanarch was confronted by the armed convicts while he was washing sheep. (Source: SLNSW A-1449)

Lanarch made it safely to the house of his neighbour Henry Dangar, where, despite the potential danger to his wife and family, he stayed through the night. No one was sent to

283 Castle Forbes to assist or defend it against further attacks. 8 As it happened the gang had gone, riding to Henderson’s hideout in Lambs Valley, approximately 30 kilometres away in rugged country north of Dalwood. The incident created immediate alarm in the Patricks

Plains district, with neighbouring settlers arming themselves and fortifying their estates.

Mounted police began patrolling the road to Windsor in the belief that the gang would make a dash for Sydney and a reward of £10 per man was posted for their capture. 9 The gang struck again three days later, raiding the farm of William Bowen at Black Creek (close to modern Greta), stealing a horse, saddle and bridles. Eleven mounted police were stationed at Jerrys Plains, but they were scattered across the valley at the time, with three in the western part of the Hunter near the Goulburn River, two chasing runaways, two guarding the road to Windsor, one transporting a runaway to the lock up and one returning from Maitland with the detachment’s pay. Despite this, patrols were quickly directed to check the road to Windsor and in the mountains between Patricks Plains and the Wollombi area. 10 Men were also stationed at Castle Forbes to protect against any further attacks there.

On the 12 th November, a week after the original breakout, the gang raided two separate properties. Their intention was to attack Castle Forbes once more with the hope of catching Mudie at home. However, although he was there, the estate was on high alert and strongly defended, so the gang moved on to Rusholme, the farm of George Sparke.

David Jones had been sent to the Singleton Bench of Magistrates by Sparke on October 21,

1833 and sentenced to a total of 75 lashes, 25 for being absent from the farm and 50 for

8 Dowd and Fink, ’Harlequin of the Hunter, Part II’, 88. Lanarch later claimed that he had no knowledge of the attack on Castle Forbes, believing the men had come after him alone; see SH 12 December 1833, p. 2. 9 Lieutenant Charles Steele to Captain Williams, Mounted Police, 20 November 1833, CSC, SRNSW 33/7860, 4/2240.5. 10 Lieutenant Charles Steele to Captain Williams, Mounted Police, 20 November 1833, CSC, SRNSW 33/7860, 4/2240.5

284 losing sheep. This was followed by a sentence of 12 months in an iron gang for assault and robbery on November 4, which resulted in his absconding and joining Poole’s gang. One of his accusers was John Lanarch. 11 Sparke was quickly overpowered by the gang, tied to a post in his kitchen and allegedly flogged a total of 300 lashes. As the men whipped Sparke, they reportedly named all those convicts who had been sentenced to be flogged by the local magistrates the previous few days, giving rise to the suspicion that they were in touch with local sympathisers. 12 The attack on Sparke was considered particularly brutal as they had flogged him, not on the back and shoulders as was considered normal but instead on his lower back and loins, and allowed the lash to reach around to the soft skin of his abdomen. With Sparke still bound, the gang stole a saddle and bridle, two guns, clothes, flour, a gold ring and other assorted goods.13

Leaving Sparke, the men moved on to the farm of Henry P. Dutton, a recently arrived free emigrant, where they stole a horse, gunpowder, shot, three guns, more clothes, beef, sugar, soap, tomahawks, frying pans and other supplies. Although not physically attacked,

Dutton was warned that they were leaving a sentry nearby for two hours in case he tried to raise the alarm. The theft of food and provisions from each of the properties suggested to the authorities that the gang were planning to stay in the district in the short term rather than attempt an escape to the Hawkesbury or Sydney. As a result, while mounted police patrols were maintained on the roads and at Castle Forbes, others were sent to rendezvous with the magistrate Robert Scott to search the area. 14

11 Singleton Register of Convict Punishments 1833-1839, SRNSW 7/3714 Reel 618. 12 The Sydney Monitor , 16 November 1833, p. 2. 13 James Mudie, 1834, Vindication of James Mudie and John Lanarch , ES Hall, Sydney, pp. vii-xi; Supreme Court Records, The King v Anthony Hitchcock (also called Anthony Hath), John Poole, James Reiley, David Jones, John Perry, James Ryan , SRNSW, 33/234–236. 14 Lieutenant Charles Steele to Captain Williams, Mounted Police, 20 November 1833, CSC, SRNSW 33/7860, 4/2240.5

285 Lambs Valley where the gang was camped was not far from Scott’s Glendon estate as the crow flies, but it was through rugged country away from the main tracks and areas of settlement. The valley itself was narrow, with high cliffs and steep gorges running off either side, and caves and overhangs dotted through it. If they were careful, the gang could come and go unseen and keep lookouts on the high ridge line that enclosed the valley to alert them of anyone approaching. The desperadoes were employing their local knowledge of the land and the bush, accumulated via their work herding the stock and flocks of their masters, or through a diffusion of knowledge from fellow convicts, to avoid capture. 15 Coincidently, Lambs Valley adjoined the estate of Vicars Jacob, whose own convicts had formed the Jacobs Mob bushranging gang eight years earlier. Maybe some of the experience and geographical knowledge had passed through from this earlier gang and explained the use of the remote valley for a hideout.

By the time two mounted police arrived, Scott had already raised a party to pursue the gang, including his own overseer, John Lanarch, Mr Sparke (probably George’s brother

William), eighteen convicts, including five of Scott’s own servants and thirteen from other estates, and two Aboriginal trackers. When word of the attack on Dutton’s property came through, Scott’s party rode to his farm. Heavy rain during the night had left the ground soft and the tracks of the gang were easily found and followed into the remote Lambs Valley.

As Scott’s group approached the valley on November 13, a scout from the gang was seen descending rapidly from a ridge and soon after smoke from their camp was spotted. Scott ordered his men to charge and the camp was quickly overrun. As the gang scattered,

Henderson and two others were ordered to “ground their arms”. When Henderson refused he was shot by one of the mounted police. The remaining gang members were

15 Karskens, The Colony , p. 305. Lambs Valley was named after the settler John Thomas Lamb who held the 2560 grant named Belin that covered the area. Lamb, who arrived free in 1827, lived at Belin with his wife Jessie and two sons, Edward and William.

286 surrounded and quickly surrendered before being marched to the lock-up in Maitland 20 kilometres away. 16 Henderson died from his wounds a few days later. Despite their use of the bush and the rugged valley, they only lasted a little over a week on the run. Their muddy tracks were an indication of their being desperate runaways rather than seasoned bushrangers.

The reverberations from the revolt spread further than the immediate neighbourhood and the repercussions touched more than those directly involved. In late November a party of

Aboriginal men camping on Robert Scott’s property at Glendon were attacked in the night by the runaway Herbert Owen. Owen was an associate of James Riley and had been present at the raid on Sparke. Apparently mistaking the men as some of the trackers that had been involved in the capture of the gang, Owen attacked them with an axe, hitting one, Joe Priest, with a glancing blow to the back and arm and the other, Jimmy, in the face.

While Priest was not seriously hurt, Jimmy was badly wounded. Knocked to the ground and attacked while prone, his jaw was broken in two places, his teeth knocked out, and his face severely gashed. The Aboriginal men had already complained of threats of murder towards them and others from convicts on the surrounding estates since the gang had been captured. 17

16 SH , 12 December 1833, p. 2. Letter Robert Scott to Colonial Secretary, 13 December 1833, Robert Scott correspondence Vol. 4, ML, A2263. 17 Robert Scott to Colonial Secretary, 30 November 1833, SRNSW, Supreme Court Miscellaneous Correspondence Relating to Aborigines COD 294A, 5/1161 Items 378-867, p. 134.

287

Figure 23 : Robert Scot t’s sketch of the battered Jimmy attached to his report on the incident. Jimmy’s supposed involvement in the tracking of the Castle Forbes runaways made him a target of convict revenge. (SRNSW 4/2182.1 33/8024)

Castle Forbes and the events surrounding it also passed into the lore of the Hunter Valley, especially amongst the emancipist and convict population. James Ryan, writing in 1895, recalled passing Castle Forbes in 1835 with a team of bullock drivers, the men all talking of

Mudie and the uprising and proclaiming what they would do to Mudie if they had their way. As they moved along the road at night, passing the place of execution, Ryan recalled the windmill at Castle Forbes with its sails broken and lying on the ground. His driving companions claimed that at the moment of execution a great hurricane had whipped up

288 and torn the sails from the mill, which never worked again. Like a biblical tempest, the storm reportedly lasted until the men were cut down. 18

First a trial, then an Inquest The trial that followed was a sensation. According to the prisoners’ Counsel “the whole scene caused a shudder that thrilled, not only through the Court, but through the heart of the Colony”. 19 The trial was itself unusual. Captured by civilians under the provisions of the Bushrangers Act, police charged the prisoners with the capital crimes stealing by force of arms and discharging a weapon at their overseer with the intent to kill, and if found guilty, they would be liable to execution within 24 hours of the verdict. 20 Prisoners on a capital charge were rarely represented in a defence, as no Government assistance was provided and any legal representation needed to be paid for by those on trial. This was beyond the means of the majority of convicts in the colony. However in this case an anonymous benefactor in Sydney had put forward the money and Roger Therry was appointed for the defence. 21 Therry realised that the case was so strong against the six men that the only defence was to prove that their treatment at the hands of Mudie and

Lanarch had been so severe and beyond the boundaries of what was considered normal, that their punishments should be reduced from death to some other sentence.

The trial was reported in detail in the Sydney newspapers and it exposed the deep rift between the emigrant farmers, emancipists and convict workers in the Hunter Valley, animosity that had been festering since the first free settlers had been allowed to take up

18 James Ryan, (1895), Reminiscences of Australia: Containing 70 years of his own knowledge and 35 years of his ancestors , Macarthur Press, Parramatta, Facsimile Addition 1982, p. 47. 19 Roger Therry, Reminiscences of Thirty Years of Residence in New South Wales and Victoria , 2 nd Edition, Sampson Low, Son and Co, London, 1863, p. 169. 20 The King v Anthony Hitchcock (also called Anthony Hath), John Poole, James Reiley, David Jones, John Perry, James Ryan, SRNSW, Supreme Court Records, 33/234, 33/235.

21 Therry, Reminiscences , p. 167. The donor was later revealed to be his friend and fellow Irishman, the Reverend John Joseph Therry, who was a fierce and vocal advocate for the Irish Catholic convicts in the Colony; see Dowd and Fink, ’Harlequin of the Hunter Part II’, 89.

289 land in the early 1820s. Correspondents representing both sides wrote letters and opinions to the press, with many using it as a forum to express support for or to criticise Governor

Bourke and his policy of more humane treatment towards the convicts. The debate raged specifically around Bourke’s Summary Punishment Act, passed in August 1832. 22 The new act was designed to closely define the role of magistrates and impose stricter limits on their powers, in particular limiting the maximum number of lashes imposed for offences against the labour code, reducing them from 100 to 50, something Governor Macquarie had also attempted during his administration.23 Magistrates in country areas were especially opposed to the new law and in the Hunter Valley a petition against it was raised and forwarded to the Governor. Sent in August 1833, the petition claimed that the introduction of the new law had resulted in a rise in crime and insubordination in the district and undermined the authority of the magistrates and the masters of convicts. It was signed by 130 landowners across the region, including James Mudie, John Lanarch and the Scott brothers. 24 As had happened when Lieutenant Lowe had been tried in 1826,

Hunter magistrates and settlers felt that the colonial administration in Sydney was interfering in matters of which they had little understanding, matters best left to the local authorities to deal with. Once again it was the local magistrates like Scott, whose power was threatened by any official investigation, who organised and led the push back against the central authority of government.

The revolt at Castle Forbes was seized on by those opposed to the law as an example of the consequences of leniency when dealing with convict servants. The trial of the six men appeared to lend weight to their arguments as Mudie and Lanarch and their supporters told of indulgencies and privileges extended to some of the accused, especially Poole.

22 Blair, ‘The Revolt at Castle Forbes’, 89. 23 John Hirst, Freedom on the Fatal Shore , Black Inc, Melbourne, 2008, pp. 103, 168. 24 SH , 26 August 1833, p. 2.

290 However, at the conclusion of the trial, the prisoners were allowed to speak in their own defence, as was customary. Hitchcock and Poole in particular made impassioned pleas to the court, claiming that their behaviour was that of men without any further options due to the harsh treatment and cruel punishments to which they were subjected at Castle Forbes.

While accepting his own fate, Hitchcock implored the Court to initiate an inquiry into the excessive floggings, the bad rations and the practice of holding back tickets-of-leave from those to whom they were due. He began listing those establishments that flogged their convicts incessantly but was stopped by the court. He also attempted to show the court his scarred back, the result of the floggings as proof of his claims but was also prevented. 25 To

Mudie’s astonishment, Governor Bourke did order an inquiry to investigate both the claims of mistreatment at Castle Forbes and the performance of the magistrates’ bench at Patricks

Plains.

Hitchcock’s plea to the court reflected the sense of injustice that he and his co-accused saw in their treatment at Castle Forbes. Alan Atkinson has identified this sense of fair play amongst convicts as one of the underlying reasons for protests amongst convict workers.

Atkinson’s four patterns of convict protest included attack, the appeal to authority, the withdrawal of labour and compensatory retribution. They were often carried out by convicts in response to what they saw as a transgression against agreed or established forms of the relationship between a master and a servant that existed within the broader convict system. 26 However, Atkinson does not see the attack at Castle Forbes as necessarily fitting into these patterns, arguing that it was instead a reaction against Mudie himself, rather than aggression against the convict system. 27 Yet Hitchcock’s appeal points to a level of grievance about the treatment of convicts on the estate and the breaking of what

25 SG , 12 December 1833, p. 2 26 Alan Atkinson, ’Four Patterns of Convict Protest’, Labour History , 1979, Vol.37, 28-30. 27 Atkinson, ’Four Patterns of Convict Protest’, 31.

291 he understood to be the conventions of the relationship. As Atkinson himself notes, there was a certain moral economy at play on the rural estates, where convicts were operating both in penal and economic terms. Convict men in particular, imbued with established norms taken from their experience as members of the English or Irish labouring classes, would more often appeal to rules and conventions governing the assignment system. This was especially the case when they thought rations were being withheld, clothes and other personal items were not issued, or punishments did not fit the crimes. Hitchcock and Poole raised all these issues in the trials and it was upon these concerns that the proposed inquiry would focus. 28

For seven days in late December 1833, witnesses were called to answer the questions of the Solicitor General John Plunkett and Principal Superintendent of Convicts Frederick Hely before the inquiry, held at Patricks Plains. The inquiry took statements from Lanarch and

Mudie, as well as six of their convicts, neighbouring settlers, farmers, overseers, constables and convicts on surrounding estates. At its conclusion, Lanarch and Mudie were effectively cleared of any wrong doing and their conduct towards their convicts was not considered to be unduly harsh or oppressive. However, some incidents had caught the attention of the commissioners. They remarked that on occasions rations could be better in both quantity and quality, and they made specific reference to Lanarch striking an assigned convict, sending David Jones to the bench twice on the same day to receive 100 lashes and to

Mudie for flogging a man for refusing to work on a Sunday. 29 Although the rebuke of the inquiry towards Mudie was relatively slight, Mudie claimed that the very nature of the inquiry had been an attack on his character, and had so damaged his reputation that it would be difficult for him to remain in the colony. His outrage was manifested in a series

28 Atkinson, ’Four Patterns of Convict Protest’, 32. 29 Dowd and Fink, ’Harlequin of the Hunter, Part II’, 92.

292 of pamphlets attacking Governor Bourke and other critics, which led his being removed from the magistracy list in 1836. He left the colony soon after. 30

While the inquiry was not overly critical of Mudie and Lanarch, the details taken in evidence provide insights into the workings of the large estates in the Hunter in the early

1830s, the relationships between master and convicts, and the power of the magistrates over the working population. The evidence presented illustrated the combination of control, punishment and rewards used at Castle Forbes and across the neighbouring estates to manage their convict workforces. Mudie encouraged convict workers to plant gardens at Castle Forbes to supplement their diet with herbs and vegetables. He even provided seeds. Gardens were also permitted on the farms of Dr James Bowman, Robert

Lethbridge and William Kelman, while convicts at Henry Dangar’s were allowed vegetables from the estate garden. Many of the men at Castle Forbes had dogs, possibly used for hunting or personal protection when in the bush minding sheep or herding cattle.

Although Lanarch had told the men not to keep them, and had had some of the dogs shot for attacking the cattle on the estate, they did regardless and none were punished for it. 31

Some of the men were favoured with extra rations for specific work or specialised skills.

While a basic ration was provided by Mudie, Lanarch and other estate owners, tea, sugar, extra tobacco and other luxuries were also distributed as incentives or rewards. 32

Landowners, including Henry Dangar, James MacDougall, John Earl and Patrick Campbell and others, all gave out extra goods for specific tasks or additional work at harvest time.

John Poole, the ringleader of the revolt who was executed on the road at Castle Forbes,

30 Hirst, Freedom on the Fatal Shore , p. 172. McKenzie, A Swindlers Progress , p. 280. 31 Evidence as to the treatment of assigned servants of Messrs Mudie and Lanarch, evidence of Henry Brown (a/81), SRNSW 4/2182.1

32 Standard rations as told to the inquiry included 7 pounds of beef, 1 peck of wheat or flour, soap, tobacco and milk.

293 was one identified as having received extra rations and special treatment. Poole was a talented carpenter who had been employed by Mudie to work with an engineer, Hugh

Thompson, on the erection of a mill on the high ground of the estate. Thompson confirmed Poole’s skills and noted his special treatment and rewards. He had been allowed extra rations of cold meat, sometimes delivered to the workshop by Mudie. His work had earned him an extra £5, part of which was used to buy a music book and a flute, which

Mudie acquired for him on a trip to Sydney. He was also earning extra money by making ploughs, which Mudie allowed him to sell to neighbouring farmers. Mudie himself had purchased a plough from Poole for 30 shillings. However Poole’s temper was volatile, and, despite the rewards and favourable treatment, he held grudges and warned he would take to the bush if he was punished. Hitchcock, like Poole, was also a skilled tradesman and was earning extra money making straw hats and baskets. 33

Allowing convicts to keep gardens and dogs was as strategic as it was practical. Although not all the convicts kept gardens, the ability to do so gave the men some measure of autonomy and an ability to supplement their own rations. These small indulgences encouraged good behaviour on the estate, as did the allowance of extra money through side projects such as Poole’s ploughs and Hitchcock’s weaving. A careful mix of kindness and firmness was understood to be the most effective method on the estates to control the convict residents. 34 A level of trust and even a measure of respect was necessary between the convict and the master for the system to work at all. Convicts at Castle Forbes and most other estates were required to work both within the scrutiny of the home paddocks and on isolated sheep runs that could be a day’s ride or more from the estate. The estate owners could not hope to have these outposts under constant surveillance and so a system

33 Evidence as to the treatment of assigned servants of Messrs Mudie and Lanarch, evidence of Hugh Thompson (d/5), evidence of Henry Russell (d/31). 34 Hirst, Freedom on the Fatal Shore , p. 63.

294 of rewards and incentives was needed for their operation. While this work could be isolating and lonely for some, for others it could be liberating. Martin Cash, minding sheep on Bowman’s Wybung Run west of Merton, noted:

though a measure cut off from society at the time, our calm and

undisturbed mode of life (was) free from the daily annoyances and petty

tyranny which at that time men of my class were generally subjected to

and which has ever been the bane of my existence. 35

Cash’s reference to “petty tyranny” strikes at the heart of a particular grievance of many convicts. While most accepted their sentence, they still expected to be treated fairly by overseers and masters. Atkinson has argued that convicts expected a certain level of virtue in their masters. Brutal treatment or petty punishments by overseers were resented and could lead to a loss of respect and a break down in the authority of those in charge, making day-to-day operations on an estate difficult. 36 Alexander Harris after working in the bush with emancipists and ex-convicts, noted in his book Settlers and Convicts , that amongst working men there was a “strong and ineradicable and very correct sense of what is fair” and if masters did not act in fairness, workers would “assuredly endeavour to right themselves”. 37

The problem of absentee landlords was another issues addressed by the inquiry. Many of the larger landholders resided in Sydney and only came up to their estates at harvest or shearing time. This had been an ongoing source of tensions in the Hunter. The estates were predominately convict places, often managed by ex-convicts, as was the surrounding countryside where emancipists and ticket-of-leave holders worked as hired labourers or on

35 Emberg and Emberg, Martin Cash , p. 8. 36 Atkinson, ’Four Patterns of Convict Protest’, 32. 37 Harris, Settlers and Convicts , p. 231.

295 their own small holdings. In 1826 Governor Darling had noted the numbers of absentee landlords in the Hunter Valley and identified it as a problem in managing the violence between Aboriginal people and convicts. Darling suggested that as the owners claimed to place so much importance on the preservation of their properties, they might like to spend more time on them and provide an example to their convict servants. 38 Of course much of the violence in the Hunter was caused by dispossession and loss of traditional means to survive bought on by the actions and orders of the large landholders more than that of the convict workers and emancipist farmers. Mudie was rarely on his estate, leaving the operations to Lanarch, whose eager use of the lash or his own summary punishments may have been as much due to his own freedom to rule with little supervision as it was his convicts’ misbehaviour. During the inquiry, the convict James Brown, on loan to Castle

Forbes from George White’s estate, reported that Lanarch revelled in being known as a tyrant, declaring he would flog anyone who spoke against him. As if to prove this, James

Harvey, the only convict to speak up at the time was sent to the bench and received 50 lashes for insolence the following morning. 39 In contrast James Dodds, a free settler who had been in the colony twelve years and with fifteen convicts assigned to him, testified that he rarely had any trouble and attributed it to “myself being constantly with them, and I give them no cause to complain” .40

Dodds went on to say that he worked as hard as any of his men and treated them fairly. If they complained of bad meat rations he issued fresh meat to them, and for small matters he refrained from sending them to the bench as he said the men were of good character

38 Governor Darling response to petitioners, 5 September 1826, ML GD Volume 8 A1197, p. 223. 39 Evidence as to the treatment of assigned servants of Messrs Mudie and Lanarch, evidence of James Brown, (a/103); Singleton Register of Convict Punishment 1833-1839, 2 December 1833, SRNSW R681, 7/3714. 40 Evidence as to the treatment of assigned servants of Messrs Mudie and Lanarch, evidence of James Dodds (b/47)

296 and he would trust them with anything. 41 The fair treatment of convict servants could also provide some form of protection to an estate. Dodds said he had never been robbed by his men, while George Wyndham, who was not called to the inquiry, was protected from the

Castle Forbes bushrangers by a note from a convict servant nailed to his front fence saying he was a good master and was not to be hurt or robbed. 42 John Elliott, who had been saved from an Aboriginal ambush near Segenhoe, also claimed to have been spared by bushrangers and again it was through his wife Martha’s kindness that he went unmolested.

Martha had a reputation for tending the convicts on the estate, especially those who had been flogged, and her compassion gave her a guarantee of safety. John and Martha were taught a secret whistling code which served as a passport in the bush. At least once John was bailed up between Segenhoe and another estate only to be allowed to pass unmolested at the whistle of the rebel song “The White Boys of the Wicklow Mountains”. 43

Bushranging in the Hunter Valley was widely attributed to the problem of absentee masters. Before the Castle Forbes revolt, 1825 had been the worst year for bushrangers, with numerous reports of robberies and attacks on isolated properties. Peter McIntyre at

Segenhoe in the Upper Hunter called for more magistrates and constables to be appointed, as bushrangers infested the region. McIntyre assured the Colonial Secretary that he could manage to defend himself and his large estate with his own servants, but worried that smaller settlers might not be so able to do so. He thought extra constables would also discourage convicts on smaller farms from joining the “desperadoes” and keep them in

“due subjection”. 44

41 Evidence as to the treatment of assigned servants: Dodds (b/47). 42 W. Wright (ed), Memories of Far off Days: Reminiscences of Mrs Charlotte Wright, including copies of correspondence 1827-1898 , P. Wright, Armidale, 1985, p. 5. 43 Wood, Dawn in the Valley , p. 240. 44 McIntyre to Brisbane, 3 September 1825, CSC, SRNSW, R6068, 4/1813, p. 103.

297 Of the early gangs, the depredations of one known as Jacob’s Irish Brigade or Jacobs’ Mob were the most brutal. Between July and October the mob, made up of three men from

Vicars Jacob’s estate near Lambs Valley, as well as at least five others, rampaged through the district. The gang operated in the middle and lower Hunter, particularly around

Luskintyre and Wallis Plains, and, as at Castle Forbes, they robbed their master Jacob’s farm and those of at least nine of his neighbours, abducted the wives of two settlers, and burned the house of James Reid, who had taken one of the men before the magistrates on

July 1. The magistrate E. C. Close claimed they were being assisted by emancipists around the Williams and Paterson River, who were transporting the gang and their proceeds in boats to avoid detection. Close also thought they were paying some Aboriginal people for information and assistance. If this was the case, it represents one of the fundamentals of many early bushranging gangs –their dependence on their geographic knowledge and their social networks. However both could work for them or against them. Bushrangers often

“walked the knife-edge of trust and betrayal”, where a hefty reward or the promise of a pardon could turn their convict or emancipist sympathisers into informers. 45

To assist in the capture of the gang, Captain Allman at Newcastle sent a detachment of the

Royal East Kent Regiment, better known as the Buffs, who in September cornered a bushranging gang near Luskintyre. One of the bushrangers was shot and the rest captured.

At first they thought they had caught Jacob’s Mob but this was not the case. One month later they did manage to trap them in a hut near Hexham, close to Newcastle, where the leader Patrick Riley was shot and another, Aaron Price, surrendered. Patrick Clinch,

Lawrence Cleary and Michael Cassidy escaped but were captured soon after. 46 Jacob’s

45 Karskens, The Colony , p. 302. 46 All three men were found guilty and sentenced to death. Clynch and Cleary both had their executions reprieved and were sent to Norfolk Island, while Cassidy had this commuted to transportation for life to , see CSC, SRNSW, R6068, 4/1812 p. 145c; Fiche 3298 X730 p. 27.

298 neighbour Alexander McLeod of Luskintyre, had pursued the bushrangers and later wrote to the Attorney General to inform him that Jacobs was rarely at his property and had recently left the colony. McLeod believed that the way the men were treated by Jacob had forced them in desperation to take to the bush and that “this among many other instances of the same kind is one of the great evils arising from granting lands to non-residents”.47

The Castle Forbes inquiry revealed that the convicts considered Lanarch, not Mudie, responsible for the bulk of the unnecessary punishment, threats and bad treatment.

Lanarch was responsible for much of the day-to-day running of the estate, as Mudie was often absent in Sydney. He admitted to striking two of his convict servants with a leather strap, a riding crop and a stick at times as punishment for neglect of their duty. He beat

Michael Duffy with the strap and riding crop for allowing the pigs in his care to destroy the wheat stacks when not supervised, and then sent him to the bench at Patrick’s Plains. It was alleged by other convicts at the inquiry that Lanarch had first beaten Duffy and then sent him to the bench at Patricks Plains for further punishment. Duffy did indeed appear before the bench in February and again in July 1833 charged with neglect, for which he was sentenced to 25 and 50 lashes respectively. 48 It was also revealed that Lanarch had severely beaten James Ryan, one of the convicts involved in the revolt. Ryan, who was 17 years old, had been caught by Lanarch plaiting straw hats while nearby two lambs in his flock were being attacked by eagles. When Lanarch took the straw and reprimanded him,

Ryan struck out at him with a stick, cutting Lanarch’s forehead. Lanarch admitted again to beating Ryan soundly, after which he was also sent to the bench, where he had received 50 or 100 lashes. In fact Ryan had been sent twice to the bench, once on July 22, 1833 for

47 McLeod to Bannister, 15 December 1825, SRNSW, CSC, SRNSW, 4/1813, R6068, p. 145. 48 Singleton Register of Convict Punishments, 1833-1839, SRNSW 7/3714, Reel 681.

299 disobedience when he received 50 lashes and then again on August 2 when he got 100 lashes for insubordination. 49

Labour, Power and Punishments The inquiry also confirmed some of the Governor’s suspicions regarding the overreach of the magistrates in the Hunter and their taking advantage of the relative isolation of their jurisdiction from scrutiny. Convicts reported that they would not complain to the bench regarding mistreatment for fear that Lanarch would punish them in another way on the estate, or would concoct a reason to send the complainant before the magistrates to be flogged regardless. Any word of complaint was taken as insolence, while a convict seen standing and talking to another would be charged with neglect of duty. 50 Some of the convicts also believed there was little use in taking any complaint to the bench, as the magistrates were all friendly with each other, making a fair hearing difficult for them.

This friendliness was partly acknowledged by some of the settlers as well. Edward J. Eyre observed that, while he considered the magistrates fair in their treatment, their similar interests, occupations and backgrounds meant they often held the same views when it came to convict discipline. On attending court to witness the proceedings against a neighbour’s convict, Eyre noted that not one convict called before the magistrate escaped being flogged. 51 The punishment books for the Singleton Bench between 1833 and 1839 show that floggings were ordered 1,146 times in that period, totalling 59% of all cases, while only 235 or 12% were acquitted or discharged. The rest were sent to the lock-up,

Newcastle gaol or an iron gang. The figures were much the same for other benches.

Deposition books from Muswellbrook between October 1834 and March 1835 show that

49 Singleton Register of Convict Punishments, 1833-1839. 50 Evidence as to the treatment of assigned servants of Messrs Mudie and Lanarch, Evidence of James Harvey (a/27) Peter Ponsonby (a/43) and Henry Brown (a/81). 51 Eyre, Autobiographical Narrative , p. 45.

300 out of a total of 156 cases, 91 were flogged (58%) with another 24 having their ticket-of- leave cancelled or suspended with only 13% were acquitted or discharged. 52

The charge against Lanarch of manipulating the bench went to the core of the convict sense of justice. The bench was meant to act as the impartial supervising body in regards to the relationship between master and servant. While it was designed to punish petty crimes and infringements of discipline, it was also meant to be a place of redress for convicts if they were mistreated by their masters. Although the law forbade a magistrate from trying his own servant, there is evidence in the Hunter Valley that the sitting magistrates supported their fellow gentlemen. Atkinson cites the example of the

Muswellbrook bench in 1832, where 58% of all convicts charged with breaches of discipline came from the farms of the two most active magistrates, William Ogilvie and John Pike. 53

This trend can also be seen at the Patricks Plains bench between 1833 and 1839. The highest recorded referral rate to the bench came from Robert and Helenus Scott (222), followed by Dr James Bowman (181) and the combined efforts of James Mudie and John

Lanarch (201).

The punishment books of the Patricks Plains bench record 1,939 appearances during this period. If those sent by the government road and bridge parties are removed (166), and the 60 ticket-of-leave men are also subtracted, the three who recorded the highest numbers of servants sent, the Scotts, Bowman and Mudie/Lanarch, account for 36 per cent of all convicts charged. All were magistrates. If the next three highest are also included the proportion rises to 50%. It could be argued that these six masters had comparably larger workforces than many other estates in the Hunter, which accounts for the large number of referrals to the bench. However even if they did have larger workforces overall, their use

52 Magistrates Deposition Books, Hunter Valley, 1834-35, NLA MS67; Singleton Register of Convict Punishments, 1833-1839, SRNSW 7/3714, Reel 681. 53 Atkinson, ’Four Patterns of Convict Protest’, p. 43.

301 of the bench is further illustrated by the fact that 161 different convict masters were recorded as sending their convicts to the bench at Patricks Plains in this period, but most referred their convicts to it less than 10 times over the six years of surviving records. 54

The inquiry was also told of the system of labour swapping that was practiced in the

Hunter. James Brown, a convict originally assigned to the Assistant Surveyor George Boyle

White, claimed that White had lent him out to other settlers over a period of three years in exchange for goods and services. White, like Lanarch, was Mudie’s son-in-law, having married Mudie’s daughter Maria in 1830. Brown was initially lent to Mudie for seven months before returning to White for a few days. He was then sent back to Mudie for another two months. From Mudie’s, Brown was sent on to John Howe’s farm and then to

Henry Dangar’s for five weeks before returning to White’s estate. When he was to be sent to Dangar’s a second time, Brown complained. Maria White threatened that she would send him back to Mudie if he refused and would see he was flogged there. Brown was returned to Castle Forbes and subsequently sent to the bench by Mudie in June 1833 charged with neglect, for which he was acquitted. 55 It is not clear if this was the result of

Maria White’s threats.

If White had just been lending Brown as a favour or to help the family it may have been acceptable. Men assigned to Lanarch regularly worked for Mudie and visa-versa. However,

Brown claimed that the reason White sent him around to the various estates was as a form of payment of services, including for White’s use of a shoemaker from Dangar and two working bullocks from Howe. Brown also claimed that White was using Government

54 Analysis by author of Singleton Register of Convict Punishments, 1833-1839, SRNSW 7/3714, Reel 681. The top six masters sending convicts to the bench were (in order) Robert and Helenus Scott (222), James Mudie and John Lanarch (201), Dr James Bowman (181), Alexander McDougall (87), Captain Robert Lethbridge (84) and James Glennie (67). 55 Evidence as to the treatment of assigned servants of Messrs Mudie and Lanarch, Evidence of Henry Brown (a/105).

302 property for his own purposes, including government drays, bullocks and harnesses, which he in turn allowed Mudie and others to use to transport grain and supplies around the

Hunter. 56 This amounted to selling convicts’ labour, which was against the regulations and could have a master restricted from getting any more men assigned. It appears from this that White and others regarded their convict servants as property, to be traded for services if and when needed.

Other questionable practices exposed by the inquiry included the claim that the bench at

Patricks Plains was doubling up punishments to circumvent the restrictions on floggings imposed by Bourke’s Summary Punishments Act and that some of the convicts were being forced to work on Sundays and being flogged when they refused. The doubling up of punishments was a direct response to Bourke’s new laws, which set 50 lashes as a maximum penalty for a first offence and 100 lashes for a second. The laws had also forbidden benches where only one magistrate was sitting from ordering more than 50 lashes in any circumstances. 57 Hunter Valley magistrates saw this as a direct challenge to their power and undue interference in their work. The law was circumvented by dividing convict charges into separate offences and then having them flogged for each offence. In the months before the uprising, Mudie and Lanarch had both David Jones and John Perry flogged twice on the same day for separate offences; they endured 75 and 100 lashes respectively. 58 An analysis of the bench books shows that the practice was widespread across the main estates around Patricks Plains both before and after the uprising. John

Bellows was sentenced to 100 lashes in February 1833 in two lots, while Michael Bartlett and James Brown both assigned to John Blaxland each received 75 lashes, also in February

56 Evidence as to the treatment of assigned servants of Messrs Mudie and Lanarch, Evidence of Henry Brown (a/105). 57 Hirst, Freedom on the Fatal Shore , p. 104. 58 Evidence as to the treatment of assigned servants of Messrs Mudie and Lanarch, Report of punishments against the prisoners involved in the uprising (Section G).

303 1833. Phillip Kelly, assigned to Robert Scott at Glendon received 100 lashes on April 3, 1837 for losing sheep, another 50 in June for absconding from the estate, and 12 months in irons for absconding again in August. In some cases convicts were sent for three offences on the same day, for example Edward Bush, who received 75 lashes and a week in the cells in July

1833; or James Jones who got 100 lashes and 14 days in the cells for insubordination and absconding. 59

Working on a Sunday was a breach of the moral contract established between masters and convicts and also showed a disregard for the law. Convicts, whether in government or private service, were expected to work from sunrise till sunset from Monday to Friday and for half a day Saturday. Sunday had been a free day for convicts since the first years of the colony in Sydney. While a church service was often held on the larger estates, for most it was an opportunity to tend gardens, grind grain for their weekly ration, socialise or to pursue other personal tasks. Convicts were well aware of their rights and were especially clear that they were not slaves. Sunday was their day off and any work required was expected to be rewarded. While Mudie did have men work on some Sundays, he compensated them for doing so. Peter Ponsonby, assigned to Mudie in 1831, admitted to working on Sundays two or three times on request, but said he always got dinner in the kitchen if he did. Richard Nagle said he worked in the mill on Sundays grinding grain for the men, as the mill was occupied during the week grinding the grain of the estate and of surrounding farmers for a fee. Lanarch told the commissioners that the men worked on

Sundays when needed, especially during harvest time or if they were tending flocks and herds. Bullock drivers who were required to transport the grain to the steamer on

59 Singleton Register of Convict Punishments, 1833-1839, SRNSW 7/3714, Reel 681. There were 115 cases of convicts having their sentences split to allow for extra punishments to be awarded on the same day in the six years from 1833 to 1839 at the Singleton (Patricks Plains) bench, of which only 10 were convicts of James Mudie.

304 Saturdays were also on the road Sundays, but either received a holiday on the Monday or

Tuesday or were paid extra, as was the normal practice on the surrounding estates. 60

However other settlers contradicted Lanarch. James Chilcott, who had a much smaller estate employing only seven men, said no work was ever done on Sundays, and he had only ever seen Mudie’s drays on the roads on that day. James White, Dr Bowman’s overseer, said men only worked on Sunday feeding animals as required, a practice confirmed by

Nathaniel Powell, overseer to Robert Lethbridge. John Earl, William Brooks, James

MacDougall and his brother Andrew MacDougall all agreed that Sunday work in harvest was the only exception to the rule and extra rations or payments were expected by the men. 61 Of interest is the fact that Chilcott was an emancipist farmer, possibly giving him a better understanding on the limits of sufferance convicts were prepared to endure and also putting him at odds with Mudie, whose distaste for his emancipist neighbours was already well known and would boil over in his response to the inquiry. 62

Emigrants, Emancipists and the Native Born Mudie’s requirement that his convicts work on Sunday suggests that some of the other allegations made at the inquiry may have been long term practices, because Mudie had been reported ten years earlier for the same offence. In December 1823, the year after

Mudie arrived on his grant, the district constable Benjamin Singleton, the colonial born member of John Howe’s original exploratory party, wrote to E. C. Close alerting him to the fact that Mudie’s men were being employed on Sundays. Singleton told Close, the district’s only magistrate at the time that Mudie had worked his men on the previous five Sundays– his cart was spotted on the roads in the district. Singleton complained that by working on

60 Evidence as to the treatment of assigned servants of Messrs Mudie and Lanarch, Lanarch to Colonial Secretary re: character of the six men charged over the uprising, 13 December 1833, (a/107). 61 Evidence as to the treatment of assigned servants of Messrs Mudie and Lanarch, (b/31–b/41) 62 For a detailed account of Mudie’s response to the inquiry see Blair, ’The Revolt at Castle Forbes’ and Dowd and Fink ’Harlequin of the Hunter Part II’.

305 Sundays, Mudie was undermining his authority as a constable in the district as well as interfering with his responsibility to take the muster of convicts in the area. Close in turn wrote to the Colonial Secretary to inform him that it appeared that Sundays had not been recognised since the establishment of farms at Patricks Plains and he was disappointed that such contempt for the regulations should have been displayed by a settler like Mudie. 63

Singleton’s complaint sparked an angry response from Mudie, revealing his deep-seated resentment of emancipists and colonial born settlers, whom he considered to be a separate caste from himself and his fellow emigrants. Mudie would eventually write a treatise outlining his thoughts on the subject titled the Felonry of New South Wales , published in the years after the uprising. In it he stated categorically that convicts were forever convicts, regardless of their rehabilitation or serving of their sentence. The purpose of the colony, as he saw it, was to prolong the punishment of the transported felon as a deterrent to those still in England who might otherwise commit a crime. Convicts were unworthy of trust and, by extension, emancipists could not expect the same rights or freedoms as the free emigrant settlers because of the infamy attached to them. 64

Attitudes such as these were largely impractical in the day to day running of a farm or estate, where much of the labour was undertaken by convict servants, ticket-of-leave men or emancipist settlers, with most of the overseers who ran the properties also being former convicts, including Mudie’s own man Patrick Crehan 65 . The ranks of the bush constabulary were made up of ex-convicts, and as the settlements began to form, many of the essential services such as the mills, warehouses and the river transport were operated by them too.

63 Singleton to Close, 10 December 1823; Close to Colonial Secretary 11 December 1823, CSC, SRNSW 4/1809, R6067, pp. 124-125 64 James Mudie, The Felonry of New South Wales (1837) , Walter Stone (ed) , Lansdowne Press Melbourne, 1967, p. 7. Mudie coined the term felonry himself to describe the convict and emancipist population of NSW. 65 Crehan arrived in 1824 and was first assigned to J.P. McKenzie at Bathurst. He gained a in 1830 having served his seven year sentence, see Census of NSW 1828.

306 Such a stance was equally unhelpful when applied to people like Singleton, the son of an emancipist and a man who considered he had as much right to the land as the likes of

Mudie, if not more.

It was access to arable land and to water that exacerbated this early, class-based spat between the two settlers. As discussed in Chapter 4, the Hunter Valley was opened to

European settlement at a time when attitudes to who should have access to land in the colony were changing. While Macquarie had encouraged small landholders and emancipist farmers, the Bigge Report recommended large scale grazing estates, owned by respectable, wealthy settlers with large convict workforces. Emancipists with little capital and convicts with a ticket-of-leave should be encouraged to work as tenant farmers or have their land parcels restricted to 10 acres in areas close to settlements so they would be close to markets to sell their produce. Those Europeans born in the colony, mostly the children of emancipists, found it difficult to access land as it was increasingly granted in large parcels to wealthy emigrants. This added to a sense of exclusion from land they saw as rightfully theirs as the country of their birth. 66

When Mudie had first arrived on his grant he had discovered Singleton, his wife and six children already there, for which, according to Mudie they had no permission from the government. Mudie had already clashed with John Howe about the property, but he allowed Singleton to stay while another portion was arranged. Rather than see this as a good turn, Singleton claimed Mudie was robbing him of the land he deserved. He had petitioned the Governor in March 1823 for extra land, making the point that he had been flooded twice from his land at the Hawkesbury and he hoped this would be taken into

66 Molony, The Native Born , p. 4.

307 consideration. 67 For this reason, Mudie’s land would have been an attractive prospect for

Singleton, as it had access to the river and the rich alluvial soils along it, but also a high area of ground out of flood reach. However, Mudie’s tolerance for the Singleton’s troubles was limited. As he informed Close, he (Mudie) was the only one in that part of the valley that could be called a “Gentlemen Settler” and he had nothing to do with Singleton or his party in the way of social contact:

Singleton is on a prefect footing of equality with his convict servants, mine or any

he comes in contact with, in a word Ben Singleton (as they call him) is a fine

fellow. 68

The dispute represented a second layer of dispossession in the Hunter. The first wave of

Europeans, including the likes of Singleton and Howe had pushed Aboriginal people back from their land, although on a relatively small scale initially, with few fences and smaller land parcels. The influx of free emigrants with large land grants and big herds and flocks of cattle and sheep confronted not just the Aboriginal occupants but also the settled emancipists and small farmers who had followed Howe in 1820 and 1821. As much of the occupation was unofficial, there are few records about the dislocation of these settlers, except where there was resistance based on an established claim or a determined occupant, as was the case with Howe and Singleton in their struggles with Mudie. 69

Mudie was not alone in his complaints against Singleton in those first years of European occupation. Another free settler, John Earl, grumbled that he had requested Singleton to take some of his convicts before Close and it took nine days between the request and

Singleton coming to get them, during which time they ransacked his hut and absconded.

67 Mudie to Close, 12 December 1823, CSC, SRNSW 4/1809 R6067 p124; Memorial of Benjamin Singleton 2 March 1823, 4/1835B, SRNSW, Fiche 3072 No.298 pp. 813-815 68 Mudie to Close, 12 December 1823, CSC, SRNSW, 4/1809 R6067 p. 124. 69 Boyce, Van Diemen’s Land , p. 153.

308 Earl did not consider Singleton suited to the job as constable as he was well known to be

“ill-disposed to all free settlers”. In this comment Earl betrayed the class based opinions he and many other emigrant settlers held, which were so resented by the colonial born and emancipist farmers. Singleton was himself a free man, not guilty of any crime except being the son of a convict. He made his own feelings very clear to Earl. When questioned over the number of cattle he was keeping, he told Earl that he and his companions would keep as many cattle as they liked and run them where they wished, adding that “the

Government had no right to give so much land to free settlers and so little to those that are borne (sic) in the country”.70

Singleton was subsequently dismissed as district constable and replaced by John Earl.

However in a further display of the fraught political landscape and volatile nature of settler relations, Earl was himself dismissed from the position in May 1825 after he, in his role as the local pound keeper, along with two accomplices were accused of receiving stolen sheep and selling them. The sheep in question happened to be from the flocks on James Mudie’s estate. At their trial it emerged that Earl had previously accused Mudie of hiring out his government servants to his neighbours, which Mudie denied, saying he lent them in lean times and was “obliged with corn” in return, as was the common practice in the neighbourhood. It was likely Earl had reported Mudie to Singleton when he was the constable, which in turn fed into the complaints of Sunday work. Earl was found not guilty of the charge of selling the stolen sheep knowingly, but was dismissed as constable all the same. 71

Mudie’s sneering contempt for Singleton as a “fine fellow”, and Singleton’s own declaration of property rights owed him due to his colonial birth (although he arrived when he was 3

70 Earl to Goulbourn, 26 December 1823, CSC, SRNSW, 4/1809, R6067 p. 128. 71 SG 26 May 1825, p. 1, also 21 July 1825, p. 3.

309 years old as the son of a convict) encapsulate the class tensions and land disputes that dominated the Hunter’s politics through the 1820s and 1830s. 72 As James Boyce has shown in Van Diemen’s Land during the same period, the social division between free settlers and emancipists was so rigid that it went close to representing a basic caste system, where the untouchable majority were excluded from any contact with their supposed “betters”. 73

Like Mudie, Helenus Scott also had little time for emancipists and their families. Scott considered all small settlers as lazy drunkards, particularly those settled on alluvial river flats, where the soil was so fertile they did not need to work hard for crops to grow. 74 In the lower valley, Houston Mitchell, the brother of Sir Thomas Mitchell, also complained of his emancipist neighbours. Since taking up his farm at Wallis Plains in April 1830 the encroachment of his neighbour, a Mr Smith, on his land was an ongoing issue. Smith’s fences came close to the veranda of the house, but more annoyingly, they enclosed three sides of Mitchell’s land. The fourth side ran through a pond and creek, meaning that the only dry access was through Smith’s property.

The relationship between the two neighbours deteriorated over the following months as

Smith opposed any measure to survey his boundaries or to allow a public road to be made through his property. He warned Mitchell that any attempt to make a road would be blocked and if one was put through he would build fences across it. To add to the tensions,

Smith refused permission for any of Mitchell’s convict servants to cross his land. When

Mitchell asked how his men were to travel, he smiled and said it was not his problem, but they would be trespassing if they came through his farm. Mitchell was forced into a

72 Benjamin Singleton, while claiming a colonial birth was in fact born in England in August 1788. He came to Australia in 1792 with his mother and brother when his father was transported for seven years, Nancy Grey, 1967, Singleton, Benjamin, Australian Dictionary of Biography , Australian National University, Canberra. 73 Boyce, Van Diemen’s Land , p. 159. 74 Helenus Scott, letter to his mother, October 1824.

310 humiliating position of having to negotiate with Smith to allow his men access to his own farm. However no sooner had this been settled than Smith’s overseer stopped two visitors, and then attempted to stop Mitchell himself, after which Smith once again withdrew permission for anyone to pass, claiming a gate had been left open. 75

In August 1830 the issue appeared resolved, with Smith agreeing to a road and fencing his own property along its line. At this point Mitchell discovered Smith’s convict background.

Smith, a former shoeblack from Bristol, had been transported for life, escaped and was recaptured and then sent to Newcastle under colonial sentence. He had apparently changed his name from John Sidebottom to Smith. It was enough to confirm Mitchell’s suspicions, as he wrote to his brother saying:

So much is the return of John, alias Gentleman, Smith coloured, if he ever

were in want again I am sure he would hang, he is one of those characters

so completely preposterously disgusting offing [sic]several miserable airs of

some men who go by the same appellation as himself 76

The saga ended in November 1830, when Smith was arrested for breaking into a blacksmith’s shop and sent to an iron gang. 77

The antagonism between Smith and Mitchell illustrated the different positions of the emigrants and the emancipists when it came to land and who belonged on it. Smith’s one weapon was his land and the access through it, which he used to frustrate Mitchell’s own plans. As an ex-convict in a dispute with the Surveyor General’s brother, he had few options and little recourse in the case of disputes. Mitchell’s frustrations over access to his land are understandable, but he was equally determined to keep people off of his own

75 H. L. Mitchell to Thomas Mitchell, pp. 26, 44-45, 51.

76 H.L. Mitchell to Thomas Mitchell, 30 August 1830, pp. 59-60. 77 H.L. Mitchell to Thomas Mitchell, 22 November 1830, p. 91.

311 farm. In 1831 he complained about soldiers from the local barracks using a footpath along the creek on his land, one that had been established and well used up to eight years before his arrival.

While the majority of the emigrant farmers arrived by ship, landing first at Newcastle and then heading up the river to Wallis Plains where they continued overland to their grants, the emancipist and native born farmers mostly came by road, heading out of the settlements around the Hawkesbury and driving their flocks and herds before them. For them the trip took around three days on horseback or five days if they were driving stock along the road. 78 While small landholders where present across the Hunter, it was in this central valley where the road emerged that many settled.

For many of the smaller settlers coming out of Windsor and the Hawkesbury, the attraction of the Hunter Valley was the chance of getting a foothold on sought-after alluvial land.

However the clear intention of the post-Bigge administrations of Governors Brisbane and

Governor Darling was to favour wealthy free emigrants for land grants. The reaction of

Singleton to Mudie and to Earl may have been more pronounced than in other settled areas, because in the Hunter the emancipists and native born farmers felt they had a particular connection to the place, as it was them that had first discovered the overland route. In this regard they saw it as their valley. Singleton had been with John Howe’s exploratory party of the first Europeans to come overland into the valley. This afforded him the view that he had a particular right to be there. It was through his hard labour that the route now being used by other settlers was known in the first place. Even the wealthy emigrants used Howe’s road to drive their flocks and herds into the valley.

78 Helenus Scott, letter to his mother, October 1824; Refer also to Chapter 4.

312 Negative attitudes towards the emancipist farmers in the Hunter persisted beyond the foundation years. Despite the majority of the non-convict population of the Hunter being either emancipist or colonial-born children of emancipists, they were rarely considered on an equal footing. In 1825 approximately 59% of the settler population were either emancipist or colonial born children of emancipists, with just 27% being free emigrant settlers, including women like Sarah Hill, Frances King or Ann Morley, all of who were the free wives of convicts. Yet, in 1828 of the 119 farms larger than 500 acres, only 14 were owned by colonial born or emancipist settlers. 79 Although this number fell as more free settlers arrived through the 1830s, by 1841, 2,713 people, or 15% of the district’s population were still emancipists. 80 While emancipists were tolerated in business dealings, any social contact was unacceptable to many of the emigrant farmers. A settler wrote in

1842:

I do not mean to say that, among the class called emancipists, consisting of

persons who have been convicts, there may not be found men and women

who have become thoroughly reformed and fit to adorn society. This,

however, is the exception not the rule. A large majority of the class in

question are quite unfit for any company but that of a low pot-house. 81

However, despite the antagonism towards emancipists so often shown in the political commentary or the published diaries, the lived reality was that, for many, emancipists and ticket-of-leave holders were preferred as hired labour on the estates to supplement convict workers. An unknown diarist living in Maitland in 1832 noted:

79 Perry, Australia’s First Frontier , p. 138. Sarah Hill and Ann Morley’s convict husbands John Hill and James Morley were both assigned to their wives; 1823-1825 Muster. 80 Author analysis of 1825 Muster and 1841 Census: In 1825 there were approximately 618 people who were not serving convicts in the Hunter Valley at this time, out of a total population of 1582. 258 were emancipists and a further 106 colonial born children of convicts. 81 Davidson, Trade and Travel in the Far East , p. 197.

313 In all parts of the country the emancipist is the most active and industrious,

and consequently the most thriving class – from the discipline they have

undergone whilst serving their sentence they acquire new habits and

become inured to the climate – When their sentence expires or they obtain

the indulgence of a ticket of leave they find they have everything to gain –

they know that by honesty they will gain character and by industry wealth

and in a short time they find character will do as much as capital… 82

The diarist wrote that emancipists were therefore the most sought after employees, but wondered if the “insidious distinction of free emigrant and emancipist”, which was cause for “almost all the discord then existing in New South Wales” could be done away with, and people be considered on their industry and integrity as to their standing in the community. 83

Many of the estates re-employed their former convict workers once they achieved a ticket- of-leave or when their sentence expired, some finding them more reliable than free servants. George Wyndham had to let some of his free servants go, as they did not want to work with the convicts and “they had such airs it was found to be better without them”.

Wyndham employed a number of his former convicts, and was still doing so in the 1850s.

Susan Caswell was also happy with their convict servants. Like Wyndham she found her free servant girls to have too many airs about them and preferred the work of convict women, who she found to be steady and willing to work. 84 George Boyle White also employed his ex-convicts. In 1845, while shopping around for the cheapest workman to repair his house, he decided on his former assigned convict carpenter Dennis Driscoll, who

82 Anon, Hunter Valley Manuscript 1832 , Newcastle University Archives Cultural Collections, p. 17. 83 Anon, Hunter Valley Manuscript , p. 16. 84 C.M. Wright, Memories of far off days , p. 52. Letter Susan Caswell to Catherine Jackson, 28 April 1835, Caswell Family Papers, ML, AC 147/1

314 promised to carry out the work for £10, compared to £50 of the first quote. White thought he was a rogue, but employed him for the price. One month later with the work unfinished

White wished instead that Driscoll was in the stocks. 85 Thomas Blomfield at Morpeth commented that servants and mechanics who had arrived free were invariably a bad addition to a farm. Whereas in England, where employment was difficult to get and these workers would enter into a bond with an employer, in the Hunter where work was plentiful but workers were scarce, they most often left their employer as soon after their arrival as possible, knowing they could earn “twenty times as much” selling their labour. 86 James

Greig also commented in 1826 that free people’s wages were so high that no farmer could afford to employ them for any length of time. 87

Edward Eyre noted that nearly all the workers on the estates were convicts or former convicts and were generally well behaved, industrious and trustworthy. Indeed, he thought “it is quite extraordinary how well the men behaved considering their large numerical majority compared with their employers and the manner in which the latter are scattered about the country and separated from each other”.88 The threat of convicts organising themselves against a master, or indeed the entire community, was a key reason for the public execution of Hitchcock and Poole on the site at Castle Forbes. However, apart from bushranging outbreaks and the rumoured assistance given to them by emancipists and ticket-of-leave men, there is little evidence that the convicts in the Hunter considered the possibility of action as an organised class. In January 1835 a rare example of what might be construed as a statement of class consciousness was reported by the

Muswellbrook bench, when the convict William Rigby was bought up on charges of insolence by his overseer, Robert Paterson. Paterson reported that he had seen Rigby

85 G. B. White, ‘Extracts from the Diary of G.B. White’, 21 July 1845. 86 Blomfield, Memoirs , p. 39. 87 James Greig, letter to Andrew Kettie, 11 November 1826. 88 Eyre, Autobiographical narrative , ML, A1806, p. 45.

315 coming home one morning, having been away all night. When he told him to get to work,

Rigby declared that as a prisoner he “was better than me [Paterson] or any freeman that came to the country” and demanded “what would me or any freeman do if it was not for the prisoners”. When Paterson told him he would “learn him to keep a civil tongue” with the threat of the bench, he replied that Paterson “might bring him to hell” if he liked. For his stand Rigby received 50 lashes. 89

Rigby may have just been defiantly asserting his own rights and reminding Paterson of the convict’s role in the working economy of the valley rather than making any claim to class activism. If so, the landholder Thomas Blomfield may well have agreed with him, having written in 1830 that, while some thought convicts a drawback for the development of the colony, he believed “but for the convicts we should be very, very badly off”. 90 Whether

Paterson himself was an ex-convict is not known, although many of the overseers were. Of the 66 overseers recorded in the 1828 census in the Hunter, 48 were serving convicts, ticket-of-leave holders or emancipists. Rigby’s reference to Paterson in comparison to freemen suggests he was a former convict. Those convict men employed to supervise and manage others occupied a potentially dangerous position, for they had set themselves outside whatever class camaraderie might exist among convict workers or other emancipists. Yet they were not on an equal footing with, or necessarily respected by, their employers. Rigby’s veiled threat to Paterson hints at this.

In February 1835 Thomas Dunn, a ticket-of-leave constable, and Michael Duffy, a scourger, also holding a ticket, were attacked at a store by nine men. Dunn was knocked to the ground and attacked, the kicks aimed at his head and eyes, until Duffy fought his attackers

89 Magistrates Deposition Books 1834-35, Hunter Valley, NLA MS67. 90 Blomfield, Memoirs , p. 39

316 off. 91 While bonds may have existed between those convicts employed in the same jobs, distinctions were just as clear amongst those who gave orders and those who were expected to take them. Dunn had received his ticket for his assistance in the capture of a bushranger, an act considered by many convicts as one of betrayal by informing on a fellow prisoner in the hope of reducing their own sentence. As Dunn had originally been assigned to John Rotton at Patricks Plains, it is possible that his background was known to serving convicts. As for Duffy, convict scrourgers were the most despised of all, viewed as not merely instruments of the law but as traitors to their own kind. 92 Dunn and Duffy, already in tenuous positions of power amongst fellow prisoners, were caught outside their zones of authority and were held to account for their position.

Class consciousness was more apparent among the magistrates and emigrant farmers.

Many of the emigrants had known each other, or one another’s families in Britain before coming to the Hunter, emigrating on recommendations from those already there. Some of these connections were made clear in letters between George Wyndham and his mother and father still in England. In July 1829 Wyndham’s mother wrote to tell him that she had located his house on Mr Dangar’s map, which a family friend had shown her, and that a young surveyor, Felton Mathews, who was heading to New South Wales, had dropped by to get advice and hoped for an introduction in the colony via George. 93 When Mathews arrived in NSW he was appointed Assistant Surveyor, working between 1830 and 1833 in and around the Hunter. In February and March 1830, he stayed at Wyndham’s during a

91 Magistrates Deposition Books 1834-35, Hunter Valley, NLA MS67. 92 Hirst, Freedom on the Fatal Shore , pp. 127, 135. 93 C. M. Wright, Memories of far off days , p. 7.

317 survey of roads and farms in the district, using it as a base for operations. 94 Mathews had also stayed at Mudies on the way in and the way back out of the Hunter.

When arriving in the Hunter for the first time, many settlers took advantage of their connections to stay at a friend’s property before heading to their own grant. James Mudie and George Wyndham were on the regular circuit for visitors. In 1827 Peter Cunningham had visited and written in glowing terms about the farms and estates of Thomas Winder, his neighbour Alexander McLeod at Luskintyre, Mudie, James Glennie, Dr George Bowman,

George Forbes at Edinglassie and William Ogilvie, amongst others. He described Castle

Forbes as the first of several excellent farms the traveller would pass upon reaching

Patricks Plains, classing Mudie and his neighbours as being among the “various respectable settlers” in the district. 95

Visits could be extended. In July 1830, Susan Caswell, wife of Lieutenant William Caswell

RN, received an invitation from Mudie to stay at Castle Forbes while her husband readied their new house at Tanilba near Port Stephens for her arrival. Mudie sent a cart to Wallis

Plains to collect her, her two children and their belongings and allowed them to stay with him and his daughters for two months. 96 William Riley toured the Valley in the same year, staying at Winder’s Windermere estate, then with his neighbour McLeod, then moving on to Mudies and the Scott brothers at Glendon before returning to George Townsend’s

Trevallyn vineyard and farm on the Paterson River. 97 Riley was surprised at the humble buildings at Castle Forbes, considering Mudie had been in occupation for so many years.

This may reflect Mudie being often in Sydney rather than on the estate or his own opinion

94 Felton Mathew Journal, National Library of Australia http://pandora.nla.gov.au/nph- wb/19990630130000/http://www.users.bigpond.com/narrabeen/feltonmathew/journal.htm accessed 7 December 2014. 95 Cunningham, Two Years in New South Wales Part I, p. 79. 96 Letter Susan Caswell to Catherine Jackson, 18 July 1830, Caswell Family Papers, ML, AC 147/1. 97 William Edward Riley Journal in NSW 1830-31, ML, A2012, CY Reel 424.

318 of his workers and a reluctance to improve their conditions. It may also reflect a certain level of experience or at least good advice on Mudies behalf. Edward John Eyre, who came to the Hunter in 1833 to learn how to manage a farm before getting one of his own, noted that his neighbour, William Bell, had turned his attention and capital to preparing his land for cultivation and fencing his paddocks before spending money on a dwelling. Eyre noted that many new, young settlers did the opposite, spending their capital on their own comforts before securing their farm and stock, making it difficult to establish their farms in the long run. Eyre, as a new settler took his cues from his more experienced neighbours and, through his connections was hosted by Robert Scott, James Glennie and assisted by

Mudie before coming under the guidance of Colonel Henry Dumaresq at St Helier’s and his neighbour Bell in the Upper Hunter. 98

Thus, for those emigrants that did manage to survive on their land, particularly those with families, a comfortable house or larger mansion was a long term goal. Many examples of these colonial residences still survive in the Hunter. Some are simple, practical dwelling houses such as William Dun’s Duninald built in c1823 and one of the oldest extant settler houses in the Hunter. Others were built as statements of wealth and prestige, including the

Scott’s Glendon, Henry Dangar’s Neotsfield and Wyndham’s Dalwood House. Dalwood

House may have been the result of collaboration between Wyndham and the Scott brothers, as Robert and Helenus both were interested in architecture, had house pattern books with them and enthusiastically dabbled in architectural design. Amongst their surviving papers are examples of numerous house and farm building plans and elevations, including buildings for Glendon and a number of unidentified Hunter residences. Although

98 Eyre, Autobiographical narrative , ML A1806, p. 39.

319 they were not professional architects, during the 1830s they appeared to have established themselves as local consultants on all manner of building projects. 99

Figure 24 : Old Duninald, home of William Dun from 1823 , photographed 2010. (Source: Author’s Collection)

99 J. Broadbent, The Australian Colonial House: Architecture and Society in New South Wales, 1788- 1842 , Horden House, Sydney, 1997, p. 275

320

Figure 25 : Glendon House, 2010, home to Robert and Helenus Scott . (Source: Author ’s Collection)

Figure 26 : Neotsf ield, 2010, Henry Dangar’s grand mansion built 1822 –1880s. The carriage house and stables on the right were constructed in 1821, serving as part of a temporary dwelling before the main house was started. (Source: Author’s Collection)

321

Established settlers also visited their neighbours when they could, maintaining social connections and relieving the boredom that could be a feature of an isolated estate.

Edward Eyre wrote fondly in his journal of visiting his neighbours for a day of “innocent amusement” and a few hours chatting. For Eyre this was most often accomplished on a

Sunday, as there was no divine services anywhere close. Neighbours regularly visited without invitation and dinner was a feature of any hospitality shown. However not every drop-in was appreciated, as Eyre himself was to discover. Riding with a visiting gentleman to a neighbour’s farm one afternoon, Eyre found himself in an awkward stand-off between the lady of the house and his companion over the time of a dinner service. As it was the custom for families to eat early, Eyre and his visitor had ridden at 2 o’clock to visit a neighbour, expecting that they would be invited to eat. However with the eldest brother still working they were informed dinner would not be until 7 o’clock, whereupon his companion, believing they should be feed and calling it a great nonsense to be waiting for a single person called the family to a vote, which he understandably lost. Eyre and his companion were forced to leave without dinner. Eyre discovering only later that his companion was not a favourite of the family in question, so dinner was unlikely from the outset. 100

Part of this circuit may be explained not just through the prism of social connections and friendships but also as a kind of agricultural tourism. Since the opening of the Hunter to

European settlement, the area had been promoted for its rich alluvial soil and open, park- like grasslands. John Howe had proclaimed it “the finest country as imagination could form, fit for grazing and for agriculture”.101 With a great range of crops and grazing animals

100 Eyre, Autobiographical narrative , ML, A1806, pp. 54-55. 101 Perry, Australia’s First Frontier , p. 73.

322 some farms became famous for their particular speciality. Eyre noted in his journal in 1832 of visiting his upper Hunter neighbours in part to see their farms. His mentor William Bell had a fine herd of dairy cattle and large flocks of sheep, and a neighbour Dr Bennett had large gardens of fruit trees, vegetables and vines, from which he produced table wine. The

Scott brothers at Glendon bred horses that were well known through the district and in the

Sydney markets, Colonel Dumaresq at St Helier’s was producing fine wool with his flocks of

Saxon sheep, while others like James Mudie or William and Henry Dangar had large wheat crops, as well as tobacco, Indian corn and other crops. 102

While there was a level of cohesion amongst the emigrant farmers in terms of outlook and opinions, there were equally bitter contests between them over resources and land.

Emancipists and colonial born felt they had an entitlement to the land they were denied, but free emigrants insisted they had an absolute claim not just to the land granted them, but all the resources within it. Cedar had been cut from the Hunter from the first years of the convict station at Newcastle, but by the early 1820s the remaining stands of cedar were increasingly within the boundaries of private land holdings. Although grants were made with conditions regarding the reserving of timber for government use, which included cedar into the mid-1820s at least, cedar was considered by many settlers too valuable to allow it to be taken, when they could cut and sell it themselves. Although licenses were required for settlers to get the cedar, many ignored the orders, especially on the more remote and rugged properties where the last major stands were to be found. As early as

October 1822, John Brown at Bolwarra, one of the first free settlers to take up his land, was caught illegally trading in cedar and hardwoods. Brown had enlisted the help of four of the convict timber gang, supplying them with flour and rations, in exchange for which they would take the fallen logs up river to his farm rather than down river to the government

102 Eyre, Autobiographical narrative , ML A1806, p. 43.

323 depot. A total of 107 logs were taken this way, 30 cedar, 20 rosewood and 57 gum trees, before a guard noticed the logs going upstream. To add to Brown’s trouble, he was using government tools and ropes to secure the logs before sinking them or hiding them in a smaller creek on his property. 103

In June 1823, Lieutenant Hicks at Melville, just upriver from Brown, had confronted a timber gang and threatened to shoot any who came onto his land. Hicks told Close that he considered everything within the boundary marked as his property to be his, except that timber required for naval purposes, which cedar was not. Other settlers had also resisted the gangs with force, despite clear orders allowing them to operate. 104 Tensions about the illegal felling of cedar trees continued across the lower Hunter throughout 1823 and 1824, with disputes between neighbours and with the government being regularly addressed by the Colonial Secretary in Sydney. The rules, which had been clear during the operation of the convict station at Newcastle whereby all the timber belonged to the government, were now being blurred as more land went into the hands of private owners through extensive land grants. Outside of their sheep or cattle, timber was the most obvious source of income for new settlers, particularly if they were fortunate enough to have stands of cedar or other valuable timbers on their land.

More serious disputes arose over land boundaries, with a number of prominent landholders involved in bitter quarrels. In 1826, Henry Dangar, who had been given the job of surveying most of the grants for the newly arrived emigrants, was accused by Peter

McIntyre, the agent for Thomas Potter Macqueen, one of the largest landholders in the

Valley, of appropriating the best land for himself and his brother William. The dispute had arisen amidst the complicated land surveying for multiple emigrants that Dangar was

103 Depositions regarding enquiry into illegal private logging, 5 October 1822, CSC, SRNSW, 4/1808, R6067, p. 253. 104 Morisset to Goulburn, 25 June 1823, CSC, SRNSW, 4/1809, R6067, p. 82.

324 undertaking. Macqueen had been promised a grant of 20,000 acres on instructions from

Earl Bathurst, Secretary of State for the Colonies in London, and Dangar was dispatched with McIntyre to the Hunter in August 1825 to select the land. McIntyre selected the grant around the rich and fertile land where Dart Brook meets the Hunter, near present day

Aberdeen, as well as 4,000 acres for himself and 2,000 a piece for his three brothers. 105

The land he wanted for his employer covered the entire western bank of the Hunter River from the present day site of Muswellbrook to above the junction of the Pages River and

Rouchel Brook. He also requested land near the Goulburn River and some near the

Paterson River in the lower Hunter. However these claims clashed with promises and grants already made and with areas in which Dangar himself had a personal interest.

Of those areas already allocated, McIntyre was particularly interested in one promised to

Captain Francis Dixon. Both Dangar and the Government Surveyor John Oxley warned him of the previous claim, but he continued to pursue it. In late 1826, although Dixon’s ticket of occupation had not expired, he had not taken up his grant and was presumed lost at sea on his ship the Venerable (he was not). 106 McIntyre again made a claim on the land for himself and once more wrote to Dangar. Dangar in turn offered the land within the junction of

Dart Brook and the river on the condition that McIntyre would not select or take possession of any unallocated land they had previously discussed, including Dixon’s grant.

As negotiations dragged on, McIntyre lodged a complaint against Dangar, alleging he had selected 7,000 acres for himself and his family on land to which McIntyre already had a claim. He alleged that Dangar had refused to finish surveying Macqueen’s last 10,000 acres and had offered to give up 800 acres he had intended to acquire in return for McIntyre dropping his claim. Despite Dangar’s position in the government service and his extensive

105 Wood, Dawn in the Valley , p. 86. 106 A ticket of occupation was given to settlers who were temporarily leaving the colony and designated the period between the granting of land and when it had to be occupied. It was normally 18 months, after which it was cancelled and the land reallocated.

325 survey of the Hunter, and despite his protestations and support from Oxley, in March 1827 he was suspended pending an investigation and ultimately dismissed. He was not allowed to retain 1,300 acres he had selected for himself unless he purchased it. 107 His brother

William bought it instead, while Henry settled on of his property Neotsfield on the river at

Patricks Plains. Dangar travelled to England in late 1827 to try to have the decision reversed and on the voyage wrote his Guide to Settlers , with an accompanying map of all the land surveyed to that point in the Hunter. The publication became one of the most influential pieces of “booster literature”, aimed at encouraging settlement in the Valley. It also served as a kind of resume for Dangar who was appointed surveyor for the Australian

Agricultural Company while in London.

Back at Wallis Plains, Houston Mitchell, who had clashed with his emancipist neighbour over access, found himself in a new land dispute with his own brother, the Surveyor

General Thomas Mitchell. Walka, the farm Houston occupied, had been purchased originally by Thomas, with Houston understanding that it was his own in principal and he would pay his brother the purchase price plus interest when he could. With this in mind, he had told anyone who asked in the district that he was the owner and all negotiations were made by him. In December 1833, Houston was shocked to receive a letter from

Thomas objecting to him buying the farm as well as an additional 80 acres also belonging to

Thomas, which adjoined the farm. Although Houston appears to have been permitted to remain at Walka, he reminded Thomas that without the 80 acres, Walka was unviable, as only 20 acres was usable due to the lagoon on the property. Houses encroaching from the embryonic town of Maitland also convinced Houston that it was time to move, as he wanted to continue to farm rather than develop the land. In February 1835 the final blow came. Thomas informed Houston, who had just drained his lagoon to extend his farm, that

107 Wood, Dawn in the Valley , p. 92.

326 the land was not his and never would be. The lost opportunity was hard enough to fathom for Houston but worse followed as Thomas advertised Walka for sale as his own, depriving his brother of his farm and exposing the fact that he had never been the owner.

Land and its ownership were fundamental to a settler’s social status in colonial New South

Wales, with one’s reputation following very closely behind. 108 As Mudie had found after the ignominy of an inquiry into his treatment of his convicts, even if a verdict was in your favour, it was difficult to recover from the damage to a reputation in the close- knit colonial

Hunter. Houston’s standing in his local community, as well as wider society, had evidently been undermined and his reputation tarnished. Horrified by his brother’s actions, Houston told him “you make me a liar a downright horrid liar, of all other characters the worst on earth”. 109

At the top end of the Valley, large landholders Colonel Dumaresq of St Heliers and James

Bowman of Ravensworth had been in bitter dispute over their boundaries since first arriving on their grants in the late 1820s. Neither man was a permanent resident on these estates, both leaving the main operations to their overseers, with authority at Ravensworth under the charge of James White. The boundary was unclear. One was laid out on a rough survey that followed a ridge line, another on the river where a rocky outcrop, known as The

Needles, formed a natural barrier. In 1829 Bowman was well established on his run at

Ravensworth, and his shepherds and overseers took The Needles as the boundary of their land, running their sheep and cattle to this point. The run was considered within the boundary rights based on the distance of it from the head station, which was an accepted

108 K. McKenzie, A Swindlers Progress: Nobles and Convicts in the Age of Liberty , New South, Sydney, 2009, p. 150. 109 H. L. Mitchell to Thomas Mitchell, 30 August 1830 p. 229.

327 measure of ownership amongst the earliest settlers and was reinforced by Bowman’s stock being the first into the area and there some three years prior to the Colonel’s. 110

For four years this was the recognised boundary, until in 1833 Dumaresq and his men began enforcing the surveyed line, despite it never being formalised. The dispute was more about water than about boundaries, for above The Needles was a deep water hole that Bowman claimed rights to through his early possession and use of it. In 1835 the dispute escalated when James White accused the Colonel of running scabby sheep, with the flocks intermingling around the disputed waterhole, while Dumaresq accused

Bowman’s men of driving his cattle away from the waterhole, which was within his boundary. 111 Scab in sheep was a devastating disease which was highly infectious and destroyed the wool. With no fences erected on the rugged and remote property, the deliberate intermingling of scabby sheep by a convict shepherd or their infection through neglect could lead to the loss of an entire flock. As Atkinson points out, this was a recognised method of convict protest, “compensatory retribution”, and one that was hard to control. 112 Whether it was also employed as a tactic by unscrupulous masters as orders to their shepherds is unknown. The dispute was finally settled through arbitration in 1840.

Bowman’s boundary at The Needles was agreed upon.

In the nearly twenty years of intensive European settlement in the Hunter after the closure of the convict penal station, possession of land and its resources had been paramount and a root cause to much of the conflict and tensions that had erupted between Aboriginal and

Europeans and amongst the different classes of Europeans themselves during this period.

Possession was not necessarily ownership, but rather the control of the land and resources.

110 Deposition of John Blaxland, 24 March 1840, Papers Re: Dr Bowman, Macarthur Family Papers, Vol. 78 ML A2974. 111 James White to Bowman, 15 June 1835, Papers Re: Dr Bowman, Macarthur Family Papers, Vol. 78 ML A2974. 112 Atkinson, ’Four patterns of convict protest’, 39. Eyre, Autobiographical narrative , p. 49.

328 Indeed, as Dumaresq discovered, ownership and possession could be very different things on the frontier.

329 Conclusion

In 1902 the Singleton Argus ran the obituary of local identity Phillip Kelly, who had died aged 85. The notice said Kelly, originally a native of London, had been a resident of the

Singleton area for 60 years and had left a wife, seven sons and two daughters. He was well respected by all who knew him and was an unofficial local historian, known for his many anecdotes and interesting reminiscences of the history of the town. The obituary did not mention that Phillip Kelly had been a convict, assigned to Robert Scott at Glendon, nor that his 60 years in the district referred to the time when his sentence of seven years had expired, rather than to 1834, when he had actually arrived in as a 16 year old. 113

It is hardly surprising that Kelly’s obituary would not mention his convict past. A previous conviction was not deemed something worth reminding people of, be it as a colonial convict or a later prisoner, and Kelly had worked hard to establish himself in the community. He died at a time when the convict past was being excised from the written histories of the Australian colonial past. Although the convict experience was still very much in living memory, the official memory was already trying to sanitise the past.114

However as a long term resident of a small country town it is likely that many of

Singleton’s residents, particularly the older townsfolk, knew Kelly had been transported, for it was the experience of many of the families in Singleton and across the other towns in the Valley. Tom Griffiths has identified this as part of the suggestive silences of Australian history, where convict and Aboriginal history, especially concerning cruelty or violence, were left out of the record or glossed over as a footnote to the “real” history of progress and development. 115 Even the names convicts gave the places they lived and settled have

113 Singleton Argus , 19 August 1902, p. 2. 114 Smith, Australia’s Birthstain , p. 33. 115 Griffiths, ‘Past Silences’, 17.

330 mostly been replaced. This dissolution of the convict memory undermined the true importance of their contribution to the character and development of the Hunter Valley and to its later success as an agricultural and industrial region.

Figure 27 : Cecilia Kelly, Phillip Kelly’s widow on the right, outside their house in Bathurst Street Singleton c1904. (Source: Author’s collection)

The influx of European settlers in the years following the closure of the penal station at

Newcastle changed the Hunter Valley rapidly and irrevocably. This period was characterised by conflicts and violence between the Aboriginal inhabitants and the

European arrivals, as well as between the different European classes. Much of this conflict was generated through the struggle to retain or to gain access to the limited resources available. With the lower valley dominated by swamps and marshlands and the upper valley being hemmed in with steep cliffs and narrow gullies, the large land grants made out to wealthy free emigrants in the 1820s and 1830s quickly alienated substantial areas of the

331 Valley, cutting off access to the rivers and streams, disrupting traditional hunting grounds and converting the land into private property.

As well as monopolising the resources, these estates came to dominate the history of the

Hunter Valley. Until recently, the colonial Hunter has largely been seen through the prism of those successful emigrant farmers, their legacy confirmed in the large mansions and country houses in their genteel settings, which still dominate much of the rural landscape of the area. What was largely left out of this triumphant narrative is the history of the convict workers who powered these estates, the emancipist and native born farmers who populated the countryside and the Aboriginal people who had occupied the Valley for millennia. In response to these omissions in the historiography, this thesis has shown the vital role that convict workers played in the success of the estates and revealed the role of

Aboriginal people as workers of the valley.

None of the large estates would have been viable without the convict workforce that was employed across every aspect of their operation. From the blazing of a path to the grant; to the lugging of stores and supplies; the clearing of the forest and the preparation of the land; the harvest of the crops and pastoral work, all were dependent on the convicts’ labour. For those convicts who managed to learn a trade or who had picked up enough useful skills in their period of assignment, opportunities to work continued in the Hunter as the estates prospered and the first small settlements began to formalise. By 1841

Newcastle, Raymond Terrace, Dungog, Maitland, Morpeth, Wollombi, Paterson, Singleton,

Muswellbrook, Scone, Murrurundi and Cassilis were all recognised as official settlements, with a multitude of smaller, embryonic villages and hamlets also forming. Over 5,200 people were living in these towns at the time of the 1841 census. 116

116 NSW Government Gazette, 31 August 1841.

332 As shown in Chapter 4, over 2,500 emancipist men and women lived in the Valley at this time, a thousand-fold increase from 1821, when the penal station closed. A high proportion of them were single men, who formed the transient work force that in many cases took up those jobs that had been previously done by the convicts. But as Brain Walsh has shown, close to half of the ex-convicts married or found a partner from amongst their peers or from the next generation of European native born or emigrants. Phillip Kelly, for example, married Bridget McGarry, a refugee from Ireland’s famine, in September 1850.

After Bridget died in the late 1850s, Phillip remarried in 1861 to another recent arrival,

Cecilia Sweeney, 19 years his junior. Both lived on in Singleton into the first years of the

1900s. Thomas Dunn, the ambushed constable discussed in Chapter 7, arrived with a life sentence in 1822, and was in the very first wave of convict workers into the Hunter after the closure of the penal station. Like Kelly, he also managed to marry and settle in the district. Dunn married a fellow convict, Rose McGarry (no relation to Bridget McGarry) in

April 1832. Rose had arrived on the Edward in 1829, sentenced to seven years before being removed to Newcastle after involvement in a riot at the Parramatta in 1831. Dunn’s family also remained in the Hunter Valley. Another example was John

Swan, who had arrived in Newcastle in 1809 and was one of Governor Macquarie’s experimental convict farmers. When Swan took up his small plot on the Paterson River in

1812 he was living with his partner Mary Lowrey, whom he married in 1818. The couple had five children. Mary and their son Stephen drowned in the river in 1821 and John remarried another convict woman, Margaret McKennell. John’s son, John junior, was still farming in the Valley in 1841 and the family retained ownership of their Paterson farm into the 1950s. Others, who had spent time as convicts in the Hunter, returned to take up land in their later years. Bryan Spalding, one the Castle Hill rebels had been amongst the first group of convicts sent to Newcastle in 1804. In 1826 he returned to the Valley where his

333 daughter married ex-convict Samuel Marshall who had a 75 acre farm at Patricks Plains.

They too were still on their land in 1841. 117

In Hunter Valley historiography, Aboriginal people have been largely confined to either an anthropological or archaeological story of pre-European, pre-history occupation, or as being involved in a valiant but ultimately futile defence of their traditional lands against the

European invaders. Their post contact history has been defined by violence and destruction. This thesis does not try to downplay the terrible reality of the frontier violence, the massacres and the almost total dislocation of Aboriginal people from their traditional lands and life. However through a careful examination and consideration of the events as they were described in official and unofficial reports, it can be shown that frontier relationships and interactions between Aboriginal and Europeans were constant, and constantly negotiated. Aboriginal and European lives were intimate and interwoven.

Aboriginal violence was not random, nor was it all encompassing, but rather it was often in response to European violations and harassment. Violence and tension appear to focus around particular estates and land owners, sometimes ongoing, at other times flaring up briefly before returning to calm. The case of the Ogilvie family at Merton demonstrated that when these relationships were cultivated trouble could be avoided even in the most difficult times. Mary Ogilvie’s calm approach to the warrior Jerry and his two hundred men diffused a dangerous situation and maintained a peace that was being breached all around her.

117 E. Guilford (ed), Hunter Valley Directory: 1841 , p. 165. Spalding’s adopted daughter Mary was suspected of organising the murder of her husband at Castlereagh in 1824. She managed to get acquitted whereupon she ran away with her lover John Burke to Lochinvar. This might be another reason the family moved from Windsor where Mary was still thought of as guilty. Information supplied by Associate Professor Grace Karskens.

334 In contrast, examples of European retaliation against Aboriginal people, by the military and by settlers were often extreme. Action was commonly indiscriminate, with family groups, individuals and unrelated Aboriginal persons killed or arrested. The killings carried out by

Lieutenant Lowe including the deliberate execution of Jackey Jackey, or the massacre by the posse led by Robert Scott were deliberate acts of terror by the Europeans in an attempt to subjugate the Aboriginal population.

While the violence of the frontier was inescapable for many, the power of this narrative has obscured other forms of Aboriginal and European interaction. Just as the convicts were integral to the operation of the estates, in many cases the employment of Aboriginal guides was of equal importance to the Hunter Valley’s development. Few of the first European landholders came to the Valley without the assistance of an Aboriginal guide, from

Bungaree on the first official survey in 1801 to Ben Davis assisting the Scott brothers in the

1820s. Beyond guiding, Aboriginal people were also employed across the district on the estates at harvest time, or shearing or in general duties. The Hunter was a contact zone, a place where people, separated historically and spatially, came into contact and formed ongoing relations. It was an interconnected community, formed in relative isolation from many of the aspects of the wider colonial New South Wales society. This thesis has re- examined these relationships and the often improvised colonial encounters that shaped them.

Underlying all of these interactions is the valley itself: the rivers, the floodplains, the forests and mountains. Of all the forces at play in the colonial world, this was the most influential, yet it has been the least regarded in histories of the valley. The Hunter Valley’s physical environment shaped the way people used it, and the interactions that played out within it.

The land and its resources had attracted Aboriginal people to the place as long as 30,000 years before Europeans. Their management and knowledge of the environment shaped

335 the grasslands and forests, allowing them to survive and live right across the valley. The resources of coal, timber, grass, and rich soils in turn attracted the Europeans into the same space, first as a means of profitable punishment where secondary offenders were put to work mining the coal, cutting the timber and quarrying the middens for lime and later as an answer to the exponential need for new grasslands to feed the Europeans’ herds and flocks.

The terrain also acted to constrain settlement, heightening tensions as land was occupied and people were ejected. The long narrow valley cut through by its major rivers, meant there was bounded space, and good, productive soil for European crops was limited to the flat lowlands. With mountains hemming in all sides, people were forced into close proximity, and also confined to land often subject to flooding and inundation. The power of the river to transform the landscape and destroy improvements was well understood by

Aboriginal and European resident alike. However despite the river being a constant in the lives of all residents and a critical agent in the history of the valley, it too has been largely ignored. Away from the river, the rugged mountains and many small valleys provided shelter for Aboriginal families, for Aboriginal warriors, for runaway convicts and for bushrangers. This thesis has reconsidered the environment as a significant component in the colonial history of the Hunter Valley.

By recovering and examining the roles and contributions of the Aboriginal residents, the convict labour force and the physical environments of the valley, this thesis has repopulated the historical narrative with the key agents involved in colonial history of the

Hunter Valley. While they have been often lost or ignored in previous histories, the development and trajectory of the valley’s history cannot be appreciated without close examination of their relationships and interactions. By studying the Hunter Valley as a whole, including the environment, the people and the connections across race, class and

336 terrain, this thesis provides a more nuanced picture of the development of the colonial society and the forces that shaped it.

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Binney, Keith, Horsemen of the first frontier (1788-1900) and the Serpent’s legacy , Volcanic Productions, Neutral Bay, 2005.

Blyton, Greg, Heitmeyer, D. and Maynard, John, Wannin thanbarran: a history of Aboriginal and European contact in Muswellbrook and the Upper Hunter Valley , Muswellbrook Shire Aboriginal Reconciliation Committee, Muswellbrook, 2004.

Bonyhady, Tim and Griffiths, Tom, Words for Country: Landscape and Language in Australia , UNSW Press, Sydney, 2002.

Borrie, Wilfred D., The European Peopling of Australasia: A Demographic History 1788- 1988 , Australian National University, Canberra, 1994.

Boyce, James, Van Diemen’s Land , Black Ink, Melbourne, 2009.

Branagan, David F., Geology and Coal Mining in the Hunter Valley 1791-1861 , Newcastle History Monographs No.6, Council of the City of Newcastle, 1972.

Brayshaw, Helen, Aborigines of the Hunter Valley: A study of colonial records , Scone and Upper Hunter Historical Society, Scone, 1986.

Broadbent, James, The Australian Colonial House: Architecture and Society in New South Wales, 1788-1842 , Horden House, Sydney, 1997.

Buxton, G.L, The Riverina: 1861-1891: An Australian Regional Study , Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 1967.

Clements, Nicholas, The Black War: Fear, Sex and Resistance in Tasmania, University of Queensland Press, Brisbane, 2014.

344 Clendinnen, Inga, Dancing with Strangers , Text Publishing, Melbourne, 2003.

Connor, John, The Australian Frontier Wars: 1788–1838 , UNSW Press, Sydney, 2002.

Cushing, Nancy, ‘Writing Local History in the Hunter Region: Trends in the Writing of Hunter History’ in Cynthia Hunter (ed), Riverchange: Six New Histories of the Hunter, Newcastle Regional Public Library, Newcastle, 1997.

Daly, M. and Brown, J., The Hunter Valley Region NSW , Hunter Valley Research Foundation, Newcastle, 1966.

Davison, Graeme, The Use and Abuse of Australian History , Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 2000.

Department of Land and Water Conservation, Hunter, Karuah, Manning Catchments: State of the Rivers and Estuaries Report , Sydney, 2000.

Dowd, Bernard T. and Fink, Averil F., ‘Mudie, James (1779-1852)’, Australian Dictionary of Biography , National Centre of Biography, Australian National University, http://adb.anu.au/biography/mudie-james-2487/text3345 , accessed 25 September 2013.

Eather, A.N., The History of Bulga 1820-1921 , Percy Haslam Collection, Cultural Collections, University of Newcastle Archives.

Eklund, Eric, 2008, ‘In Search of the Lost Coal Mines of Newcastle’, Coal River Project, Cultural Collections, University of Newcastle Archives.

Ellis, Elizabeth, Rare & Curious: The Secret History of Governor Macquarie’s Collectors’ Chest , The Miegunyah Press, Melbourne, 2010.

Emberg, J. D. and Emberg, B. T., (eds) The Uncensored Story of Martin Cash: The Australian Bushranger as Told to James Lester Burke, Regal Publications, Launceston, 1991.

Fahy, Kevin, ‘Furniture and Furniture Makers’ in Broadbent, James and Joy Hughes (ed), The Age of Macquarie , Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 1992.

Flannery, Tim (ed), Terra Australis: Matthew Flinders’ Great Adventures in the Circumnavigation of Australia , Text Publishing, Melbourne, 2000.

Flannery, Tim, The Eternal Frontier: An ecological history of North America and its peoples , Atlantic Monthly Press, New York, 2001.

345 Flood, Josephine, Archaeology of the Dreamtime: The Story of prehistoric Australia and its people , JB Publishing, Marleston South Australia, 2001.

Ford, Lisa, Settler Sovereignty: Jurisdiction and indigenous People in America and Australia, 1788-1836 , Harvard University Press, Cambridge Massachusetts, 2010.

Fraser, John (ed), An Australian Language as Spoken by the Awabakal, The People of Awaba or Lake Macquarie Being and Account of their Language, Traditions and Customs by LE Threlkeld , Government Printer, Sydney, 1892.

Fry, Ken, Beyond the Barrier: Class formation in a pastoral society–Bathurst 1818-1848 , Crawford House Press, Bathurst, 1993.

Gammage, Bill, Narrandera Shire , Narrandera Shire Council, Narrandera, 1986.

Gammage, Bill, The Biggest Estate on Earth: How Aborigines made Australia , Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 2011.

Gascoigne, John, ‘Joseph Banks, mapping and the geographies of natural knowledge’ in Miles Ogborn and Charles Withers (eds) Georgian Geographies: Essays on Space, Place and Landscape in the Eighteenth Century , Manchester, 2004.

Golder, Hilary, High and Responsible Office: A History of NSW Magistracy , Sydney University Press, Sydney, 1991.

Goodall, Heather and Cadzow, Alison, Rivers and Resilience: Aboriginal People on Sydney’s Georges River , UNSW Press, Sydney, 2009.

Gray, Nancy, ‘Howe, John (1774-1852)’, Australian Dictionary of Biography , National Centre of Biography, Australian National University, http://adb.anu.edu.au/biography/howe-john- 2205/text2855 , viewed 25 March 2013.

Griffiths, Tom ‘Past Silences: Aborigines and Convicts in our history-making’, Russell, Penny and White, Richard (eds), Pastiche I: Reflections on 19 th Century Australia , Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 1994.

Griffiths, Tom and Robin, L., (eds), Ecology and Empire: Environmental History of Settlers Societies , Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 1997.

346 Griffiths, Tom, Hunters and Collectors: The Antiquarian Imagination in Australia , Cambridge University Press, Melbourne, 1996.

Griffiths, Tom, ‘The nature of culture and the culture of nature’, in Cultural History in Australia , Hsu-Ming Teo and Richard White (eds) UNSW Press, Sydney, 2003.

Hallam, Sylvia, Fire and Hearth: A study of Aboriginal usage and European usurpation in south-western Australia , Australian Institute of Aboriginal Studies, Canberra, 1979.

Hancock, W. K., Discovering Monaro: a study of man’s impact on his environment , Cambridge University Press, London, 1972.

Harley, J. B., ‘Maps, knowledge and power’, in Cosgrove, D and S Daniels (eds), The Iconography of Landscapes , Cambridge, London, 1988.

Harris, Alexander, Settlers and Convicts: recollections of Sixteen Years Labour in the Australian Backwoods by an Emigrant Mechanic , Melbourne University Press, 1977.

Harrison, Rodney, Shared Landscapes: Archaeologies of Attachment and the Pastoral Industry in New South Wales , UNSW Press, Sydney, 2004.

Haslam, Percy, Aboriginal Dreamtime of the Hunter Region: The Percy Haslam Collection, Cultural Collections, University of Newcastle Archives.

Hirst, John, Convict Society and its enemies, Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 1983.

Hirst, John, Freedom on the Fatal Shore , Black Inc, Melbourne, 2008.

Hiscock, Peter, Archaeology of Ancient Australia , Routledge, London, 2008.

Historic Houses Trust of New South Wales, Red Cedar in Australia , Historic Houses Trust, Sydney, 2004.

Hunter Valley Research Foundation, Flood Plain Information for the Hunter Valley, NSW , Hunter Valley Research Foundation, Newcastle, 1963.

Karskens, Grace, The Colony: A History of Early Sydney , Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 2009.

Karskens, Grace, The Rocks: Life in Early Sydney , Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 1997.

347 Kercher, Bruce, An Unruly Child: A History of Law in Australia , Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 1995.

Kiddle, Margaret, Men of Yesterday: A Social History of the Western District of Victoria 1834-1890 , Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 1961.

King, C. J., An Outline of Closer Settlement in New South Wales: Part I-The Sequence of Land Laws 1788-1956 , Department of Agriculture, Sydney, 1957.

Kociumbas, Jan, The Oxford History of Australia: Possessions 1770-1860 , Oxford University Press, Melbourne, 1995.

Konishi, Shino, The Aboriginal Male in the Enlightenment World , Pickering and Chatto, London, 2012.

Kovac, M., and Lawrie, John W., Soil Landscapes of Singleton 1:250 000 Sheet , Soil Conservation Service of New South Wales, Sydney 1991.

Macqueen, Andy, Somewhat Perilous: The Journeys of Singleton, Parr, Howe, Myles & Blaxland in the Northern Blue Mountains , Andy Macqueen, Wentworth Falls, 2004.

Matthei, L. E., Soil Landscapes of the Newcastle 1:100 000 Sheet , Department of Land and Water Conservation, Sydney, 1995.

Maynard, John, True Light and Shade: An Aboriginal Perspective of Joseph Lycett’s Art , NLA Publishing, Canberra, 2014.

McGee, John, Two and a Half Convicts , J McGee, Wamberal NSW, 1987.

McInnes-Clark, S. K., Soil Landscapes of the Murrurundi 1:100 000 Sheet , Department of Land and Water Conservation, Gosford, 2002.

McIntyre, Julie, First Vintage: Wine in Colonial New South Wales , UNSW Press, Sydney, 2012.

McKenna, Mark, Looking for Blackfella’s Point: An Australian History of Place , UNSW Press, Sydney, 2002.

McKenzie, Kirsten, A Swindlers Progress: Nobles and Convicts in the Age of Liberty , New South, Sydney, 2009.

McKenzie, Kirsten, Scandal in the Colonies , Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 2004.

348 McMahon, T., Hydrological Features of the Hunter Valley, New South Wales , The Hunter Valley Research Foundation Monograph No.20, Newcastle, 1964.

McPhee, John, (ed), Joseph Lycett: Convict Artist , Historic Houses Trust of New South Wales, Sydney, 2006.

Miller, James, Koori: A Will to Win , Angus and Robertson Publishers, Sydney, 1985.

Millis, Roger, Waterloo Creek: The Australia Day massacre of 1838, George Gipps and the British conquest of New South Wales , McPhee Gribble, Ringwood Victoria, 1992.

Mitchell, Cecily Joan, Hunter’s River , C. J. Mitchell Estate, Maitland, NSW, 1973.

Molony, John, The Native Born: The First White Australians , Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 2000.

Nashar, Beryl, The Geology of the Hunter Valley , The Jacaranda Press, Sydney, 1964.

Needham, William J, Burragurra: Where Spirit Walked: The Aboriginal Relics of the Cessnock-Wollombi Region in the Hunter Valley of NSW , Cessnock, NSW, Bill Needham, 1981.

Neville, Richard, Mr J.W. Lewin: Painter and Naturalist , NewSouth, Sydney, 2012.

Nichols, Stephen (ed), Convict Workers: reinterpreting Australia’s Past , Cambridge University Press, Melbourne, 1988.

Parkes, William Stanley, Comerford, Jim and Lake, Max, Mines, Wines & People: A History of Greater Cessnock , Council of the City of Greater Cessnock, Cessnock, 1979.

Perry, Thomas Melville, Australia’s First Frontier: The Spread of Settlement in New South Wales 1788-1829 , Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 1963.

Pike, Douglas (ed), Australian Dictionary of Biography , Volume 1 and 2, 1788–1850, Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 1967.

Pratt, Mary Louise, Imperial Eyes: Travel Writing and Transculturation, 2 nd Edition, Routledge, New York, 2007.

Reynolds, Henry, Black Pioneers: How Aboriginal and Islander People helped build Australia , Penguin Books, Ringwood Victoria, 2000.

349 Reynolds, Henry, The Other Side of the Frontier: Aboriginal resistance to the European Invasion of Australia , UNSW Press, Sydney, 2006.

Robson, Leslie Lloyd, The Convict Settlers of Australia , Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 1976.

Rolls, Eric, A Million Wild Acres , Penguin Books, Ringwood, 1984.

Rose, Deborah Bird, Nourishing Terrains: Australian Aboriginal Views of Landscape and Wilderness , Australian Heritage Commission, Canberra, 1996.

Ryan, James, Reminiscences of Australia: Containing 70 years of his own knowledge and 35 years of his ancestors , Macarthur Press, Parramatta Facsimile Addition 1982.

Ryan, Lyndall, Tasmanian Aborigines: A History since 1803 , Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 2012.

Sainty, Malcolm and Johnson, Keith (eds), Census of New South Wales, 1828 , Library of Australian History, Sydney, 1980.

Shellam, Tiffany, Shaking Hands on the Fringe: Negotiating the Aboriginal World at King George’s Sound , University of Western Australia Press, Perth, 2009.

Simpson Isabelle May, Pioneers of a Great Valley , Longworth and Goodwin, Newcastle, 1972.

Smith, Babette, Australia’s Birthstain: The startling legacy of the convict era , Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 2008.

Smith, Keith Vincent, Mari Nawi: Aboriginal Odysseys , Rosenberg Publishing, Dural, NSW, 2010.

Thomas, Martin, The Many Worlds of R.H. Mathews: In search of an Australian anthropologist , Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 2011.

Turner, John (ed), Newcastle as a Convict Settlement: The Evidence before JT Bigge 1819- 1821 , Newcastle History Monographs No.7, Council of the City of Newcastle, 1973.

Twidale, Charles Roland and Campbell, E.M., Australian Landforms: Understanding a Low, Flat, Arid and Old Landscape , Roseberg Publishing, Dural, 2005.

350 Waterhouse, Richard, The Vision Splendid: A Social Cultural History of Rural Australia , Curtin University Books, Fremantle, 2005.

Waterson, D. B., Squatter, Selector, and Storekeeper: A History of the Darling Downs 1859- 93 , Sydney University Press, Sydney, 1968.White, Mary E., After the Greening: The Browning of Australia , Kangaroo Press, Sydney, 1994.

White, Mary E., The Greening of Gondwana , Reed Australia, Sydney, 1986.

White, Richard, The Middle Ground: Indians, Empires and Republics in the Great Lakes Region 1650-1815 , Cambridge University Press, New York, 1991.

Wood, W. Allan, Dawn in the Valley: The Story of Settlement in the Hunter River Valley to 1833 , Wentworth Books, Sydney, 1972.

Wright, Christine, Wellington’s Men in Australia: Peninsula War Veterans and the Making of Empire c1820-40 , Palgrave Macmillan, Basingstoke, Hampshire, 2011.

Wright, Peter W (ed), 1985, Memories of Far off Days: Reminiscences of Mrs Charlotte Wright, including copies of correspondence 1827-1898 , P Wright Armidale, 1985.

Wrigley, John and Fagg, Murray, Eucalypts: A Celebration , Allen & Unwin, Sydney, 2010.

Journal Articles

Atchison, J. F., ‘Australian place-names and cartographers’, Cartography , Vol 12, No.3 March 1982.

Atkinson, Alan, ‘Four Patterns of Convict Protest’, Labour History , Vol 37, 1979.

Bairstow, D., ‘With the best will in the world: Some records of early white contact with the Gampignal on Australian Agricultural Company’s estate at Port Stephens’, Aboriginal History , Vol 17, No 1, 1993.

Blair, Sandra, ‘The Revolt at Castle Forbes: A Catalyst to Emancipist Emigrant Confrontation’, Journal of the Royal Australian Historical Society , Vol 64, Pt2, September 1978.

Browne, W. R., ‘Notes on the Physiography and Geology of the Upper Hunter River’, Journal and Proceedings of the Royal Society of New South Wales for 1924 , Vol LVIII, 1924.

351 Burley, Terence, ‘The Evolution of the Agricultural Pattern in the Hunter Valley, New South Wales’, The Australian Geographer , Volume 8, No. 5, 1962.

Campbell, J. F., ‘The Genesis of Rural Settlement on the Hunter’, Journal of the Royal Australian Historical Society , Vol XII, Part II, 1926.

Carey, Hillary, ‘Death, God and Linguistics: Conversations with Missionaries on the Australian Frontier, 1824-1845’ in Australian Historical Studies , Vol 40, Issue 2 June 2009.

Castle, R. and Hagan, J., ‘Settlers and the State: The creation of an Aboriginal workforce in Australia’, Aboriginal History, Volume 22, 1998.

Chaves, K., ‘”A solemn judicial farce, the mere mockery of a trial”: the acquittal of Lieutenant Lowe, 1827’, Aboriginal History, Volume 31, 2007.

Cronon, William ‘Modes of Prophecy and Production: Placing Nature in History’ The Journal of American History , Vol 76, No. 4., March 1990.

Dowd, Bernard and Fink, Averil, ‘”Harlequin of the Hunter”: Major James Mudie of Castle Forbes’ (Part I), Journal of the Royal Australian Historical Society , Volume 54, Part 4, December 1968.

Dowd, Bernard T. and Averil Fink, ‘”Harlequin of the Hunter”: Major James Mudie of Castle Forbes’ (Part II), Journal of the Royal Australian Historical Society , Volume 55, Part 1, March 1969.

Edgeworth David, T. W. and Guthrie, F. B., ‘The Flood Silt of the Hunter and Hawkesbury Rivers’, Journal and Proceedings of the Royal Society of New South Wales , Vol. 38, 1904.

Eklund, Erik, ‘Official and Vernacular Public History: Historical Anniversaries and Commemorations in Newcastle, NSW’, Public History Review , Volume 14, 2007.

Enright, W. J., ‘The initiation ceremonies of the Aborigines of Port Stephens’ , Journal of the Royal Society of New South Wales , Vol.33, 1899.

Ford. L., and Roberts, D. A., ‘New South Wales Penal Settlements and the Transformation of Secondary Punishment in the Nineteenth-Century British Empire, Journal of Colonialism & Colonial History , 15.3 (Winter 2014).

352 Glen, R. A. and Beckett, J., ‘Thin-skinned tectonics in the Hunter Coalfield of New South Wales’, Australian Journal of Earth Sciences , Volume 36, 1989.

Hirst, John, ‘The Pioneer Legend’, Historical Studies , Volume 18, Number 71, October 1978.

Hiscock, Peter, ‘Sydney Bondaian Technology in the Hunter Valley, New South Wales’, Archaeology in Oceania , Vol. 28, No. 2 ,July 1993.

James, W. E., ‘Landforms of the Hunter River Valley’, Hunter Natural History , Vol 1 No.2, May 1969.

Jervis, James ‘The Route North: An Early Exploratory Performed by Benjamin Singleton in 1818’, Journal of the Royal Australian Historical Society, Vol 22, Part V, 1936.

Jervis, James, ‘Settlement at Wallis Plains and the Maitlands’, Journal of the Royal Australian Historical Society , Volume 26, Part II, 1940.

Karskens, Grace, ‘The Settler Evolution: Space, place and memory in early colonial Australia’, Journal of the Association of the Study of Australian Literature , Vol. 13, No.2, 2013.

Karskens, Grace, ‘Water Dreams, Earthen Histories: Exploring Urban Environmental History at Penrith Lakes Scheme and Castlereagh, Sydney’, Environment and History 13, No 2 May 2007.

MacDonald, G., ‘Master narratives and the dispossession of the Wiradjuri’, Aboriginal History , Volume 22, 1998.

Mathews, R. H., ‘The Burbung of the Darkinung Tribes’, The Proceedings of the Royal Society of Victoria , Vol 10, Pt 1, 1897.

McCarthy, F. and Davidson, F. A., ‘The Elouera Industry of Singleton, Hunter River, New South Wales’, Records of the Australian Museum , Volume 21, No.4, 1943.

McLaughlin, J. K., ‘The Magistracy and the Supreme Court of New South Wales, 1824-1850: A Sesqui-Centenary Study’, Journal of the Royal Australian Historical Society , Vol. 62, Part 2, 1976.

353 Moore, David R., ‘Results of an Archaeological Survey of the Hunter River Valley, New South Wales, Australia Part 1: The Bondaian Industry of the Upper Hunter and Goulburn River Valleys’ in Records of the Australian Museum Vol 28, No.2, August 1970.

Moore, David R., ‘Results of an archaeological survey of the Hunter River Valley, New South Wales, Australia: Part II Problems of the lower Hunter and contacts with the Hawkesbury Valley’, Records of the Australian Museum, Vol 33, No6-9 February 1981.

Morris, B., ‘Frontier Colonialism as a Culture of Terror’, Attwood, B and J Arnold (eds), Power, Knowledge and Aborigines, Journal of Australian Studies , La Trobe University Press, Melbourne, 1992.

Oldfield, Dr Roger, ‘Account of the Aborigines of New South Wales, Sydney’ The South Asian Register , January, 1828.

Powell, M. and Hesline, R., ‘Making tribes? Constructing Aboriginal tribal entities in Sydney and coastal NSW from the early colonial period to the present’, Journal of the Royal Australian Historical Society , Vol 96, Pt 2 December 2010.

Roberts, David A. and Garland, D., ‘The Forgotten Commandant: James Wallis and the Newcastle Penal Settlement, 1816-1818’, Australian Historical Studies , Vol 41 Issue 1, March 2010.

Ryan, D. J., ‘The Discovery and First Settlement of Newcastle and Genesis of the Coal Industry’, The Royal Australian Historical Society Journal and Proceedings , Vol. IX, Part V 1923.

Swain, Tony, ‘A New Sky Hero from a Conquered Land’, History of Religions , Vol. 29, No.3, 1990.

Walsh, B., ‘The politics of convict control in colonial New South Wales-‘the notorious OPQ’ and the clandestine press’, Journal of The Royal Australian Historical Society , Vol. 96, Part 2, December 2010.

White, Richard, ‘Environmental History, Ecology, and Meaning’, The Journal of American History , Vol 76, No.4, March 1990.

Worster, D., ‘Transformations of the Earth: Towards an Agroecological Perspective in History’, The Journal of American History , Vol 76, No. 4, March 1990.

354 Unpublished reports

Clive Lucas Stapleton and Partners, ‘Hunter Estates: A Comparative Heritage Study of Pre- 1850s Homestead Complexes in the Hunter Valley, Volume 2, Appendix II, Aboriginal Archaeology Reports’, Prepared for the Heritage Council of New South Wales, 2013.

Environmental Resources Management (ERM) Australia, ‘ Upper Hunter Aboriginal Heritage Baseline Study prepared for Upper Hunter Aboriginal Heritage Trust ’, prepared for Upper Hunter Aboriginal Heritage Trust, October 2004.

Hughes, Philip, NSW National Parks and Wildlife Service Hunter Valley Region Archaeology Project Stage 1 Volume 1 , prepared by ANU Archaeological Consultancies, November 1984.

Koettig, M., ‘Regional Study of Heritage Significance Central Lowlands Hunter Valley Electricity Commission Holdings’, A Report to the Electricity Commission in Three Volumes: Assessment of Aboriginal Sites, Volume 3, 1990.

Unpublished Thesis

Bramble, Christine, ‘Relations between Aborigines and White Settlers in Newcastle and the Hunter District, with Special reference to the Influence of the Penal Settlement’, Thesis, Bachelor of Letters in History, University of New England, 1981.

Ford, Geoff ‘ Darkiñung Recognition: An Analysis of the historiography for the Aborigines from the Hawkesbury-Hunter Ranges Northwest of Sydney’, Thesis Master of Arts (Research), School of Philosophical and Historical Inquiry, Department of History, University of Sydney, 2010.

Rule, Margaret, ‘Relations between the Aborigines and Settlers in selected areas of the Hunter Valley and in the Liverpool Plains 1800-1850’, Thesis, Department of Geography, University of Newcastle 1976.

Walsh, Brian Patrick, ‘Heartbreak and Hope, Deference and Defiance on the Yimmang: Tocal’s Convicts 1822-1840’, Thesis Doctor of Philosophy, University of Newcastle, 2007.

Websites

Awabakal Cultural Resource Association Inc ., http://www.acra.org.au/

355 History of Aboriginal Sydney, Oral History Project , http://www.historyofaboriginalsydney.edu.au/north-west/working-land-%E2%80%93- more-early-family-history-gavi-duncan viewed 23 Sept 2014.

Decisions of the Superior Courts of New South Wales 1788-1899 , http://www.law.mq.edu.au/research/colonial_case_law/nsw/cases/case_index/1827/r_v_l owe/ viewed 29 March 2014.

Lachlan and Elizabeth Macquarie Archive , http://www.library.mq.edu.au/digital/lema/1820/1820march.html viewed 3 April 2013.

Rock paintings in the Upper Hunter , http://www.workingwithatsi.info/content/rockpaintings1.htm viewed 18/3/2013.

Newspapers

The Australian.

The Sydney Gazette and NSW Advertiser.

The Sydney Herald.

The Sydney Monitor.

356