Spotlight: Cash and Co. near Richmond (14 March 1843)

Colonial Times (Hobart, Tas. : 1828 – 1857), Tuesday 14 March 1843, page 3


Domestic Intelligence.

BUSHRANGERS.— On Sunday last the township of Richmond was put into great excitement by a report that Cash, Kavenagh, and Jones were in the neighbourhood. “What is to be done?” was the general inquiry, there being only two or three constables at the place. These, with the Police Magistrate and Captain Forth, were soon in pursuit, and in the end two men with a woman were apprehended ; the latter being an assigned woman from a farm near the township. It appears that being in want of wine or spirits, they sent a pressed man for a supply, who very properly laid the necessary information. We have not heard full particulars, but a report that they were armed with one old musket, a pistol without a lock, and a mopstick. In consequence of such a formidable demonstration, so near the district town, it is expected that it will be forthwith garrisoned by one wing of a regiment, aided by two of the long guns laying at the New Wharf, and that the gun-boat is to be anchored off the town, so as to cover its approaches. Several instances of great bravery, we understand, were exemplified on the occasion, and that it was with the greatest difficulty some of the volunteers were prevented from shooting each other in their praiseworthy anxiety to secure the outlaws. The country is really in a dreadful state when runaways have the audacity to think of drinking wine on a Sunday, and that, too, directly under the nose of a Police Magistrate. We thought something extraordinary would soon occur when we first saw the comet, but never did suppose that Major Schaw would so soon be called upon to act personally so far from his own Court-house. The brigands were captured, after being surrounded in a most masterly manner, about one mile from Richmond bridge. They surrendered without firing a shot, and are now safely lodged in the large stone building appropriated by the Government for such purposes. We must also congratulate our readers on another gratifying piece of information. A double-barrelled gun, which positively did belong to the firm of Cash, Kavenagh, and Jones, has been found in the bush, and forwarded to the Hamilton Police office. We regret that the report does not state whether it was loaded or not, or whether it was with or without a ramrod. This is, however, something done at any rate, and no doubt so essential a service rendered will be properly appreciated!

POLICE.— Joseph Pratt, and Eliza Cash (wife of the bushranger Martin Cash), were brought up yesterday, charged with having stolon property in their possession. It appeared information had been received that a correspondence existed between the bushranger and his wife, in consequence of which her house was searched at an early hour yesterday morning, when a considerable part of the plunder taken from Mr. Shone and others was identified, Mrs. Cash being at the time occupied in secreting a pair of stays taken from Miss Shone. It is said that a boat has been captured near Green Point, the conductor of which, there is strong reason to believe, has been the medium of communication between the bushrangers and Mrs. Cash and Pratt.

BUSHRANGING AT BROWN’S RlVER.— Not having time or space to do any more than notice the attempted robbery at Brown’s River last week, we give the particulars now, which are as follow :– A short time since, three men from the Prisoner’s Barracks absconded – one of them said to be an old servant of the Rev. Mr. Gibbs, at that settlement, induced his two companions to try their luck where he was acquainted. Accordingly they started, a large axe being the only instrument of destruction they had then been able to procure. Their first attempt was made on Mr. Manley, another gentleman at the Brown’s River settlement, but his servants (three in number), one of them a young lad, would not yield to the system, and they found in their attempt there, would be, as they said “no go.” They then went off towards Mr. Gibbs’ farm. After examination of the premises and believing the servants had retired to rest, the old servant rapped at the door, and on Mr. Gibbs’ son asking who knocked, the answer was “it is me Henry, open the door.” The young man opened the door, the party entered, one of them bound the old gentleman and eased him of his gold watch, while the others went to the servants’ place, tied them, and commenced plundering a variety of valuable and useful articles. Soon after they had left Mr. Manley’s house, his three servants requested that gentleman to give them leave to follow the bushrangers, which being readily granted, they armed themselves, one with a long barrow tire, one with the handle of an old frying pan, and the third with some other iron weapon, and started in pursuit. Judging that their next attempt would be on Mr. Gibbs. They proceeded there, and arrived just as the robbers were preparing to start with their spoil. The first salutation one of Mr. Manley’s men received from Mr. Gibbs’ old servant, was a knock down blow. He did not lay long, but was up and to it again. A general engagement then took , place, soon after which Mr. Gibbs’ old servant took to his heels and was soon followed by his antagonist, but it being dark, and the villain well-acquainted with the locality, he escaped. The other four continued the battle, and although the barrow tire and frying pan handle were well-applied, victory was rather doubtful until their companion had returned from his vain pursuit. He soon settled the difference; the two were secured and brought to town next day, one of them is in the hospital, his head it may be supposed being too frequently visited by the barrow tire, he was not in a fit state for examination at the Police-office, and it may be desirable to find the third to complete the transaction. Let us now call attention to Mr. Manleys’ servants. If the servants of the settlers were to act in a similar way, there would be an end to bushranging, and we have no doubt his Excellency will at once appreciate such meritorious conduct, by granting each of them a free pardon, which will be the very best inducement for others to follow so laudable an example.

THE BUSHRANGERS.— Information has been received in town, that Cash, Cavenagh, and Jones, visited the residence of Mr. Thomas Triffett, at the Ouse, on Saturday night last, and robbed it of everything they could carry away. We have not heard the particulars, further than that they took Mr. Triffeft’s gun, as being a superior one to Mr. Cawthorne’s, which latter they left behind and requested Mr. Triffett to return it to Mr. C, telling him at the same time, that as soon as they met with a better one than his, they would return it also. How is it that the numerous parties out after these desperadoes have allowed them to slip through their fingers to a distance of, we believe, about forty miles from their former haunt on the Dromedary?

Spotlight: Trial of Kavenagh.

Austral-Asiatic Review, Tasmanian and Australian Advertiser (Hobart Town, Tas. : 1837 – 1844), Friday 15 September 1843, page 4


TRIAL OF KAVENAGH.

Contrary to general expectation, it being now after two o’clock, Laurence Kavenagh was ordered to be placed at the bar, to take his trial for the robbery of the Launceston coach at Epping Forest. After some little delay, he was accordingly ushered into the dock, and a fresh jury was called, the other jurors being discharged altogether.

Laurence Kavenagh was capitally charged, under the colonial Act of Council, with robbing James Hewitt on the 3d of July last, being at the time armed with a certain offensive weapon, to wit, a gun — with puting [sic] the said James Hewitt in bodily fear, and stealing from him a watch of the value of 50s., and seven one pound promissory notes.

To this information the prisoner pleaded Not Guilty; in a very cool manner, and addressed the Court, requesting to have counsel assigned for his defence. He had no ways and means, he said, of employing one.

His Honor said that he had no power to appoint a counsel for the prisoner. He had read the depositions, and he did not see anything in them to justify him in doing so. It must not go abroad that, in all capital cases, a counsel was to be appointed. At Port Arthur, his Honor knew that, in all cases of murder, it was supposed that the Court would assign counsel to the prisoner; this was a common notion there. His Honor did not see he could appoint a counsel in the prisoner’s case, unless upon petition. The Attorney-General observed, that at home the Judge asked the counsel to assist a prisoner in his defence, if the Judge thought it was a case which required the aid of counsel. The learned gentleman stated, that on looking over the depositions in the recent case of the two boys who were charged with the murder of their overseer at Port Arthur, he had felt it his duty, as Crown prosecutor, to suggest the appointment of counsel, as he saw that points of law were likely to arise; but there was nothing, in the present case, to warrant such an appointment.

His Honor told the prisoner, that he did not think he should be justified in putting the public to the expense of assigning counsel to him. It would do him no good, nor the public either. In cases where points of law were likely to arise, or in which there was any difficulty, his Honor would always appoint counsel; but here there was nothing complex or ambiguous in the evidence, and it would be of no service to the prisoner.

The prisoner — As you think proper, your Honor.

The Attorney-General, after a short address, in which he explained the law of the case, under the Colonial Act, proceeded to call his witnesses.

James Hewitt, coachman to Mrs. Cox — Had seen prisoner at the bar before, on the 3rd of July, in Epping Forest, witness was driving the coach; Mr. Darke was with him on the box; it was about a quarter-past ten in the morning; there were three men came up, and desired them to stop; they were armed with guns; the prisoner at the bar was one of the men; he had a gun of some description; they came up in front of the horses, and desired witness to stand, and said they did not want to molest any one, only to rob them; they told them not to be afraid; the three men had their guns pointed from their shoulders; witness could not tell which of the three men told him to stop; witness stopped his horses, because he expected they would have shot at the horses, or something of that sort; the arms were presented at witness; the passengers were Miss Hilton, Mr. Darke, and Mr. Jacobs, who with Mrs. Cox, was inside; witness was ordered off the box; he came down, because they presented their arms at him; they robbed him of his watch; they asked him for what he had got, and witness told them they had better take it themselves, and then they would be sure of it; witness let them take his watch, to save further bother; witness expected that if he had not let them take the watch quietly, they would have taken it by force; he was afraid to refuse; they took £7 in notes, and a watch; the watch from his fob, and the notes from his breeches pocket; witness had no doubt the prisoner at the bar was one of those persons.

By his Honor. — The prisoner stood guard at the side of the road, when witness first saw him; this was after he (witness) got off the box; they made no threat, but told witness to stand, which he instantly did.

Mr. John Charles Darke was passenger on the Launceston coach in Epping Forest, on the 3rd of July; Hewitt was driving it; a man made his appearance in front of the coach, armed with a double-barrelled gun; the prisoner was that man; when he got to the horses heads, he desired the coachman to stop, when two other men came out of the bush; one of the other men desired them to get down; the prisoner told them to stay where they were, until he had ascertained who were in the coach; Hewitt got down from the box; witness saw one of the men take something from Hewitt, which witness thought was money; the double-barrelled gun appeared to be presented at witness and Hewitt, on the box. The prisoner at the bar said, “I dare you to stir; don’t stir, or I will shoot you.” His gun was then pointed to witness and Hewitt; the gun was under his arm, not to his shoulder; witness had never seen the prisoner before, nor either of the other two persons; witness had not the slightest doubt that the prisoner was one of the men; he knew him the moment he saw him in the jail; he (witness) never looked through a hole in his cell, to identify Kavenagh.

By the prisoner. — You were carrying the gun with the butt-end to your arm pit; I never came to look through the cell; the gun was a double-barrelled gun; I am quite sure of that; when I heard that one of the bushrangers was wounded, I thought there were strong doubts whether they were the party that robbed the coach, and I went to the gaol to ask Mr. Capon about it, as I was about to leave the colony.

By His Honor. — Mr. Price addressed the prisoner as Kavenagh, but this was after I had recognized him; I recognized him going up the stairs, before he was brought into the room.

By the Attorney-General. — The moment I saw him I knew him, as one of the men who robbed the Coach, but did not know his name till Mr. Price addressed him.

Prisoner. — Pray Sir, did you come free to the Colony?

Witness. — I did come free into the Colony.

By His Honor. — I knew him by his face, his figure, and his voice.

By a Juror, (Mr. Carter). — He had not the same dress on when he robbed the Coach as he has on now; he had on a drab coat.

Mrs. Mary Ann Cox corroborated the testimony of the other witnesses, as to the stopping of the Coach in Epping Forest, by the three men, the prisoner at the bar as one of the persons who stopped it; she was quite positive he was one of the men. This being the case for the prosecution, his Honor intimated to the prisoner that this was the time for him to make his defence. The prisoner bowed, and spoke as follows:— I have seen a good many scenes of misery in my time; but what I saw at Port Arthur beat all. There is one circumstance that I feel bound to mention. I was driven to a place of worship by the lash of the law. My own prayer-book was taken out of my hand by the Superintendent, and I was forbidden to read it under pain of severe punishment. I do not blame the Superintendent; it was not his fault. But I put it to any conscientious Protestant in this Court, whether he would like to be driven to a Catholic place of worship, or punished for going there! All men are not of one mind at Port Arthur. There are some men who forget that they have been men. I have not forgot that. I flew from Port Arthur on this account, at the hazard of that life I am now about to forfeit. While I was in the bush, I would rather have been shot than have fallen into the hands of the Government. But I fell into a mistake; for since I have been in custody, I have been treated well (with emphasis), and I am very much obliged to the gentlemen for their kindness and attention.

Gentlemen, after I went into the bush, and when I was under arms, I committed no act of violence or cruelty, and did nothing but what became a man. I did no violence to anybody. Stains of blood we always avoided — both me and my companions; and if I have been unfortunate, and done wrong, thanks be to God I have no stain of blood upon my hands! If I abstained from violence, it was not because I expected any mercy while standing at a bar like this. I did not surrender through any exportation of mercy, but through a feeling that I had in my own breast, having met with an accident. I would have pleaded guilty to this charge, only I was accused of having used violence, and violence I never used to any one; but if I came against armed men, I would stand against them the best way I could; but as to using violence against an unarmed man, or an unarmed party, I would not be guilty of so cowardly an act. I have nothing more to say, your Honor. I have no witnesses.

His Honor addressed the Jury; he explained in his usual lucid manner, the nature of the charge against the “poor man” at the bar, and the fatal penalty attached to its commission. Upon the evidence little was said, as it was explicit, plain, and incontrovertible. The defence set up by the prisoner, his Honor observed, was being forcibly driven to a place of worship contrary to the tenets of his own religion, and this was the only defence; but it touched not the duty of the jury, neither had they any evidence of such a fact; yet if that was the case, it was most detestable and cruel tyranny, and an instance of bigotry against which his Honor, for one, would most resolutely set his face. Why the prisoner should have stated this circumstance, his Honor did not know, unless it was to excite the compassion of the jury; but their duty was plain and straightforward, and must be performed without favour or affection.

The jury retired for about twenty minutes, and then returned a verdict of Guilty.

The prisoner was then remanded, his Honor deferring his sentence, but affording him no hope that the capital part would be abandoned. The many outrages committed by the prisoner and his companions, and the anxiety and terror which they had caused in so many families, rendered an example necessary. His Honor was glad to see the prisoner in a state of mind so favourable to the reception of that religious instruction and consolation which would be abundantly afforded him. He earnestly hoped that such a state of mind was sincere; and although his Honor could not deny that the prisoner had used no violence, yet no mercy could be extended to him on that account.

The trial lasted but a very short time, and the prisoner throughout preserved a demeanour cool, firm, and collected; there was nothing of the bravo about him, and he appeared fully aware of his situation; he expected no mercy — and he asked for none; and he delivered his defence in a style of natural but simple eloquence which was extremely affecting. He related the cruel treatment which he had received at Port Arthur, with an expression of indignant feeling, which to our minds carried a conviction of its truth, while he avowed his abhorrence of bloodshed, with a fervor which evinced his sincerity. He was dressed in a long dark great coat, and had his left arm in a sling; he appeared, otherwise, in good health. He is rather a good looking man, with an expression of vivacity and intelligence on a fair countenance. We need scarcely add, that the Court was crowded throughout the whole day. — Colonial Times, September 12.

Spotlight: Cash & co. rob a coach in Epping Forest.

Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 – 1954), Thursday 27 July 1843, page 2


THE BUSHRANGERS. – Cash and his party, about ten o’clock on Monday morning last stopped the Launceston coach on Epping Forest. They came up in a direction from the South Esk River, by a by-road which leads to one of Mr. Gibson’s farms. They desired the coachman to stop, and all bands to alight. Mr. Jacobs said to Mrs. Cox and another lady inside, “don’t be frightened, these men won’t hurt us.”
“No, no,” said Cavanagh, “we are not the men to hurt the women – let’s see what you have got,” and Jones proceeded to search all hands, but used no violence, only asked them for their watches and money. Jones stood by and took the booty whilst the others stood near and watched. They were all well armed ; one was without his hat, and neither had a knapsack. Jacobs gave Jones his purse with four sovereigns in it, and a valuable watch and chain ; Jones then asked Jacobs for the key of his box, which was on the top of the coach, unlocked it, and examined it, and called out “Martin, do we want any clothes?”
“Oh, never mind,” said Cash, and Jones only took out of it a pair of trousers ; he took Jacobs’s hat from his head, and tried to put it on his head: Jacobs said, “Give us that back, it won’t fit you.”
“No, no,” said Jones, “that won’t do.”

Mrs, Cox gave him her pocket-book, in which were some notes and papers ; she said, “give me my book and papers,” some of which had dropped out with a pound note on the ground ; he returned the book and papers, and she said “Why you are more frightened than us, you have dropped a pound. Pick it up and keep it, you are so civil; why what a miserable life you must lead.”
“Miserable, be d—d,” said Cavanagh ; he then took a pound note from Miss Hilton; two pounds from Mr. Darke; and seven one pound notes and a watch from Hewett, the coachman ; searched the residue of the coach, then asked how far it was from Thornhills, and made off the same road they came ; the coach drove on, and soon after met a police party from Campbell Town – so that there is every possible reason to believe, one being without his hat, that they had been closely, and were closely pursued. The above facts have beep sworn to at the police office. – Hobart Town Advertiser

The Midlands Highway as it runs through Epping Forest towards Cleveland.

Cash & Co.: An Overview

*** Revised and Updated, 2021 ***

Few of the Tasmanian bushrangers have quite the esteem as Martin Cash. A hot-tempered Irishman with a knack for escapology, when he teamed up with Lawrence Kavanagh and George Jones he immediately walked into bushranging history. Though their reign was merely a matter of months, they flung Van Diemen’s Land into such a state of alarm that they immediately became outlaw celebrities.

Martin Cash was a native of Wexford in Ireland, and had been transported to Australia as a teenager in 1827 for (by his own account) shooting a love rival, though the official charge was house breaking. Once in Australia he was assigned as a servant to a farm in New South Wales, where he became a stockman. It was during this time that he met Bessie Clifford who left her husband to run away with Cash. Cash managed to keep a low profile until he unwittingly helped some young men brand stolen cattle. Knowing he was bound for gaol unless he kept two steps ahead of the law, he and Bessie moved to Van Diemen’s Land with the intention of starting fresh. This seemed to work fine until the law caught up with him and he found himself repeatedly being arrested, assaulted and locked up, as he had a tendency to escape custody to make his way back to Bessie in Campbell Town. Eventually, Cash was sent to Port Arthur, the so-called “Hell on Earth” on the Tasman Peninsula.

Lawrence Kavanagh was the eldest of the men who were to form Cash and company. He was a native of County Wicklow, and had two prior convictions before finally being sentenced to transportation for life in 1828 for burglary, aged 17. He was initially sent to New South Wales where he absconded from his assignment and engaged in a spot of highway robbery for which he was sent to Norfolk Island for nine years. He was sent back to Hyde Park Barracks following this, and escaped again, taking to the bush with accomplices. This time when he was caught he was sent to Port Arthur in the hope they could do something with him. During his convict days, Kavanagh proved to be a troublesome convict and was flogged repeatedly, receiving more than 200 lashes for various offences.

The third member of the gang would be George Jones, real name George Davis, a native of South London. Jones was sentenced to transportation for life in 1829 at age 15 for robbing a till. He arrived in Sydney exactly a year after his conviction and was assigned. He also absconded from his assignment to engage in highway robbery and was subsequently sent to Van Diemen’s Land for life in 1842, his sentence to be carried out at Port Arthur.

Not being a fan of his new lodgings, Cash managed to escape Port Arthur on his own. He got past the isthmus at Eaglehawk Neck, guarded as it was by the infamous dog line, an array of half-starved hounds chained to kennels along its width. Cash’s new-found freedom wasn’t long-lived however and after being lost for five days and starving, he was nabbed and sent back to Port Arthur and fettered.

Dog Line Memorial - Eaglehawk Neck
Dog Line Memorial, Eaglehawk Neck

It was during this second internment at Port Arthur that Cash befriended Lawrence Kavanagh and George Jones. The trio devised a plan to escape Port Arthur, Cash having clearly learned the value of having accomplices and recalculated the best method of escape. On Boxing Day of 1842, Cash, Kavanagh and Jones managed to peel away from their work party and once darkness had descended they made a break for freedom. When they were not counted at muster, soldiers were sent to find them. Cash had anticipated this and the gang waited in the bush for several days before heading to Eaglehawk Neck, where they intended to cross through the water. To avoid being slowed down and chilled to the bone by wet clothes they stripped nude and bundled their clothes and boots, carrying them above their heads as they waded through the waters to give the dog line a wide berth. In their efforts to cross, their bundles were washed away and they had to proceed without their clothes. Having successfully made it across they ventured into the bush naked and without supplies. They reached a guard’s hut where the three nude convicts procured clothing and food before setting out on one of the most legendary bushranging careers of all time.

They started out by robbing farmhouses around Pittwater and Jerusalem (Colebrook) to acquire clothing, food and weapons. A reward of fifty sovereigns was offered for their capture, but there was no stopping them. They continued with robberies at Bagdad and Broadmarsh before they reached Mount Dromedary, where they constructed a log fort to use as their hideout. The fort was well placed as it offered a wide view of the terrain to see who was coming and going, while also being very close to their sympathisers, Jack Bryan and his wife Nelly. Through Nelly Bryan, Cash got word to Bessie that he was alive and at large and organised to meet her. She then accompanied Martin back to the mountain hideaway where she lived with the boys and enjoyed the fruits of their nefarious labours.

Mt Dromedary on the River Derwent … Van Dieman’s Land by J. Lycett (c.1828)
[Courtesy: Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales]

The gang established themselves quickly as a menace to society, and the military presence throughout Van Diemen’s Land was reinforced in an effort to suppress them. On 31 January, 1843, the gang stuck up the Woolpack Inn at New Norfolk, but were unaware that they had been spotted and troopers were descending upon them. Cash opened fire at the troopers who promptly returned fire. In the shootout, Kavanagh and Jones peeled away into the darkness but Cash continued to fight. Two constables were injured in the battle before Cash also took his leave.

The dramatic Woolpack Inn shootout was followed by more daring raids and robberies. On 22 February, they raided the property of Thomas Shone. The bushrangers bailed up Shone, his wife, a friend, their seven farmhands, and their neighbour and three of his men, who were all guarded in Shone’s drawing room by Jones. Cash and Kavanagh then ransacked the house before Shone’s daughter arrived with guests. Despite the prisoners greatly outnumbering the bushrangers, none made any attempts to apprehend them.

Not long after this Bessie took her leave of the gang and moved to Hobart, where she began referring to herself as Eliza Cash. She took with her many of the goods stolen for her by Martin. Meanwhile, George Jones had begun a secret affair with Nelly Bryan. Both of these women would cause the downfall of their lovers.

On 11 March, Cash and company raided James Triffitt’s farm on the Ouse River. Triffitt had a history with Tasmania’s bushrangers having been robbed by Michael Howe’s gang as well as Musquito’s and Matthew Brady’s in previous decades. As at Shone’s homestead, the occupants were bailed up and the house ransacked.

As the gang continued business as usual the authorities had been monitoring Eliza Cash. She was charged on 13 March with possession of stolen goods and arrested. She remained in remand, appearing before the courts, until she was discharged on 28 April. Caught up in it all was James Pratt, her landlord, who was considered an accessory until he was found not guilty.

On 18 March, the gang robbed Dunrobin near Hamilton. During the robbery, Martin Cash decided to pen a letter to the governor of Van Diemen’s Land. While he dictated, George Jones transcribed, and Cash warned that if Bessie was not released promptly then the gang would be forced to enact revenge. He also had Jones pen a seperate letter to Thomas Shone threatening him not to prosecute Bessie.

The remainder of the month saw more robberies near Hamilton, as well as the gang finding a new hideout in Hollow Tree Bottom. As the military presence around Dromedary had increased, the bushrangers had deemed it unwise to remain at the fort. Unfortunately they were now low on supplies and the next robberies they committed were in an effort to procure basics like food.

After robbing Thompson’s farm at Green Ponds (Kempton), Cash went into town and at Ellis’ Tavern he purchased three cases of gin, passing the local constabulary on the way out without being recognised. He returned with his companions to their bush hideaway without confrontation.

The gang continued to commit robberies around Lake Echo, Dee River and Bridgewater, planting red herrings by telling their victims that they were going to the Western Tiers. This meant that the military’s attention was drawn away from Dromedary and the fort. The result was that the gang returned to their hideout and had a big party with the Bryans, complete with musicians.

By June, there were now 500 men pursuing Cash and company and the bushrangers were on the move again, heading through the Midlands. Robberies around Ross were followed by another shootout at Salt Pan Plains, then more robberies as they headed to Cressy, where they camped for several days.

On 3 July, the gang robbed the Launceston to Hobart mail coach as it passed through Epping Forest. The next day they robbed a shepherd’s hut at the Western Tiers. Unfortunately for the gang, when travelling through Bothwell, Kavanagh tripped on a boulder and accidentally shot himself in the arm. His wound was very serious and he turned himself in on 9 July 1843, fearing he would perish if not given medical treatment. However, when he told the police how he had been injured he lied, stating he was shot in a fight in which he killed Cash and Jones.

Cash and Jones, meanwhile, continued their depredations, but news soon reached Martin via Nelly Bryan that Bessie had found a new love in the form of James Pratt. It seemed Bessie had grown tired of the bush and waiting for the rare opportunities to see Martin and had settled for something more stable. Naturally, Cash responded with his typical Irish temper, resolving to murder both his unfaithful partner and her lover. Cash induced George Jones to join him in Hobart Town.

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Cash after his capture with his head bandaged due to the wounds inflicted by being clubbed in Hobart Town.

Things were moving fairly smoothly until they were recognised by a pair of constables and a running gunfight took place. Jones managed to escape but Cash was not so lucky. Cash’s famous fleetness of foot did him wonders until he took a wrong turn and ended up in a cul de sac, ironically formed by the boundary wall of the penitentiary. A constable named Winstanley was roused, and as he approached Cash he was shot through the torso. As he lay dying, others took up his cause. A shopkeeper grabbed Cash and attempted to disarm him. The pistol went off again, the bullet passing through the shopkeeper’s fingers and hitting another man in the face, shooting his nose off. Cash struggled as others piled on. One man kicked Cash in the head and another clubbed him with a revolver until he was unconscious and barely recognisable.

Cash and Kavanagh were put on trial in Hobart, Kavanagh charged with armed robbery and Cash with wilful murder. Both were found guilty and sentenced to death, though this was commuted to life imprisonment on Norfolk Island.

[Portrait of a man in the dock]
It is believed that this portrait depicts Lawrence Kavanagh during his trial, his arm in a sling due to the bullet wound he received in Hobart Town.

Meanwhile, George Jones had teamed up with some other bushrangers named Platt and Moore, possibly at the encouragement of Nelly Bryan. These bushrangers were far more rough and ill-mannered than Jones’ previous companions. In one house robbery at Black Brush, unconvinced at protestations that there was no money on the premises, Jones reputedly tied Harriet Devereaux to a table, hitched up her dress and pressed a hot shovel to her legs. It was believed that Nelly had convinced the bushrangers that Devereaux had a big cache of money hidden in the house. In the end, Nelly Bryan dobbed Jones in to the authorities, and during a raid near Richmond in March 1844 the gang were besieged. The troopers set fire to the building and as the bushrangers evacuated, Moore was shot and mortally wounded, and Jones was shot in the face with a shotgun. The shot didn’t kill him, though it did disfigure him and left him blind. With Moore dead, Jones and Platt were tried for assault, robbery, and shooting with intent to murder. They were found guilty and sentenced to death. On 30 April, 1844, Jones and Platt were hanged. Prior to his execution, Jones had been visited by Martin Cash to comfort him.

On 1 July, 1846, Lawrence Kavanagh was one of the convicts who took up arms with William Westwood in the “Cooking Pot Riot” on Norfolk Island, in response to the overly harsh and regressive measures brought in by the new Commandant, Major Childs. During the uprising, four men were murdered by Westwood, with Childs narrowly avoiding being killed himself. Kavanagh was among twelve men hanged for their part in the affair on 13 October, 1846. He too had been allowed a visit from Cash before his execution.

Martin Cash in later life.

Through all of this, a heartbroken Cash kept a low profile and in the following years earned himself a reputation as a well-behaved inmate, becoming a constable within the Norfolk Island prison. When he was eventually released he became commandant of the Government Gardens in Hobart Town and even remarried. He briefly lived in New Zealand, where he worked as a constable and allegedly ran a brothel, before returning to Tasmania in disgrace. When his young son died of Rheumatic Fever, Cash turned to alcohol and slowly drank himself to death at the ripe old age of 69. Cash’s memoirs, dictated to James Lester Burke in the 1870s, have been reprinted many times over the 100+ years since Cash’s death and the many songs and tales about Cash remain as testament to his enduring folk hero status.

Spotlight: The Ballad of Martin Cash

The Ballad of Martin Cash

by Frank the Poet

Come all you sons of Erin’s Isle
That love to hear your tuneful notes,
Remember William Wallace and
Montrose of sweet Dundee–
The great Napoleon played his part,
But by treachery was undone
Nelson, for England’s glory bled
And nobly fought by sea–
And Wellington, old Erin’s son,
Who Waterloo so bravely won,
When leading on his veteran troops,
Bold faced his daring foes–
But Martin Cash of matchless fame,
The bravest man that owns that name,
Is a valiant son of Erin,
Where the sprig of shamrock grows.

By treachery as it was said,
This hero to a gaol was led,
‘Twas Bedford who, in Campbell Town,
Had got him seven years.
Which sent him to the settlement
In misery and discontent,
But soon he made his foes repent,
As you shall quickly hear,
He left Port Arthur’s cursed soil,
Saying “No longer will I toil”,
And soon he reached the Derwent’s side
In spite of all his foes.
He made the settlers crouch in dread
Where’er that he showed his head;
This valiant son of Erin,
Where the sprig of shamrock grows.

It was once when near the old Woolpack
His enemies they did attack;
The number being three to one,
They thought their prize secure.
But Martin to his piece did cling,
And three of them did quickly wing,
Saying, “Down, you cowardly dogs,
Or I nail you to the floor!”
It’s loud for mercy they did cry,
But no one came to their reply,
While Martin, with a smiling eye,
Stood gazing at his foes.
Then through the bush he took his way,
And called on settlers night and day,
Did our valiant son of Erin,
Where the sprig of shamrock grows.

It was on the Salt Pan Plain
He faced his enemies again,
There were Sydney blacks and horse police,
And well-trained soldiers too;
But at the time when they drew near,
Cash hailed them loudly with a cheer,
And let them have it left and right,
His colours were true blue.
Bravely did he stand his ground,
The bullets flying thick around,
And like a fearless general
He faced his firing foes.
“Surrender, Martin !” loud they cry,
“Never till the hour I die
Said this valiant son of Erin,
Where the sprig of shamrock grows.

Brave Cash, not caring for his life,
To Hobart came to see his wife,
The constables who lay in wait
Cried, “Martin is in view !”
Some cowards tried to block his way,
But one of them soon lifeless lay,
Their numbers were increasing,
And still did Cash pursue.
And in the street a man rushed out,
Who tried to stop him in his route,
But with a pistol in each hand
He clean shot off his nose.
“Surrender, Cash !” was still their cry,
“Never, till the hour I die
Said this gallant son of Erin,
Where the sprig of shamrock grows.

O’erpowered and wounded, bleeding, pale,
The Bobbies marched him off to gaol,
And when his trial was brought on
Some hundreds listened by.
And when the Judge, with panting breath
Had told him to prepare for death,
He calmly heard the sentence
With a proud, unflinching eye.
We all have hopes that we shall see
Bold Martin yet at liberty,
That shortly he will be as free
As the ocean wind that blows.
He’s of a good old valiant race,
There’s no one can his name disgrace,
He’s a noble son of Erin,
Where the sprig of shamrock grows.

He’s the bravest man that you could choose
From Sydney men or Cockatoos,
And a gallant son of Erin,
Where the sprig of shamrock grows.


Source: The Adventures of Martin Cash: comprising a faithful account of his exploits, while a bushranger under arms in Tasmania, in company with Kavanagh and Jones in the year 1843 by Martin Cash, edited by James Lester Burke. (page 122-123) Hobart Town: “Mercury” Steam Press Office, 1870.