Tag: James Whitehead

EARLY TROUBLES OF THE COLONISTS by J. E. Calder (Pt. 4)

Mercury (Hobart, Tas. : 1860 – 1954), Saturday 22 November 1873, page 3

TASMANIAN HISTORY.

EARLY TROUBLES OF THE COLONISTS,

Illustrated by a Sketch of the Career of Michael Howe, “The last and worst of the Bushrangers.”

Written by J. E. Calder.

[Continued.]

They had hardly settled themselves in the woods of New Norfolk, before they took steps to settle their little misunderstanding with Mr. Dennis McCarthy, for the part he had taken in the late attack on them, which they were in no mood to let him off for, particularly as he had caused them in their own defence to commit an act which they would have much sooner avoided, and that was sure to bring them to the gallows in the end, for they did not look on death as certain for ordinary bushranging, and even though it were a capital offence, it was by no means always thus punished either in Davey’s or Sorell’s times, unless accompanied by murder or extreme violence, of which there were many examples. They therefore proceeded to this gentleman’s house as quickly as possible after their return to New Norfolk.

But the many confederates (or as Howe used to term them facetiously his “correspondents”) whom they had in this place, were now too much alarmed on their own account, by a recent Proclamation, which offered large rewards, not only for the apprehension of the bushrangers, but for their own also, to care about renewing acquaintance with them just now, and the robbers seemed to have lacked intelligence of how matters stood in the district, when they most wanted it, and they were egregiously deceived in consequence.

The night was cloudy and very dark, when they went forward from their camp, on their mission of evil, to punish Mr. McCarthy. That they had no intention of murdering him is certain, for he was absent from the district at the moment, and they knew it; but they probably meant to pay him off in the same fashion that they had just before served Mr. Humphrey.

The district of New Norfolk was then much more scantly settled over than now, and as the King’s highways were not pleasant places to be on after dark, no one was out at this hour. Whitehead and his party therefore reached McCarthy’s residence quite unobserved by any one, and more in mischief perhaps than earnest, announced their arrival by sending a shower of bullets through one of the windows, (for in McCarthy’s absence there was no one there whom they cared about hurting.) However, one of the balls that was shot a little too low, slightly grazed one of the inmates. But very little idea had Whitehead who those inmates were, who were none else than their old enemies the soldiers, a small party of whom were put up there in McCarthy’s absence, and who were just then engaged at cards. Unexpected as this challenge was, the men within did not lose their presence of mind, but seizing their muskets, rushed out and were amongst them in less time than I can tell it in, and before the others could reload. Coming out of a light room into utter darkness, they hardly knew where their opponents stood, but ventured a volly at random at them, and the leader Whitehead was shot down, mortally wounded, but whether by the military or one of his own people, who in the dark, mistook him for a soldier, as he was reconnoitring the premises, is uncertain.

Stunned and confounded by the unexpected appearance of the soldiers, and with their pieces uncharged, the bushrangers made off in a body, all except Howe, who had now a horrid task to perform, which in virtue of an old understanding that existed between these two worthies, Whitehead and himself, he remained behind to perform.

However little reverence such men as these may be thought to have had for truth, and the observance of obligations, they were sometimes found to attach importance to oaths made amongst themselves. The fear of the derision of their comrades, in case of failing through faint-heartedness, probably kept them up to the mark. These two men had sworn to each other, that whichever fell first, the survivor should perform the dreadful office of cutting off and removing the other’s head, so that the body not being recognisable, the captor might be defrauded of his reward, and there were now fifty guineas on each of this party. Whitehead lived just long enough to pass the preconcerted signal that all was up with him, (“Take my watch,” meaning his own head) and then in the language of scripture, he gave up the ghost.

Favoured by the intense darkness of the night, Howe fulfilled his pledge; and the headless body of the impenitent man, remained where it fell, for the military to dispose of as they chose; and it was conveyed to Hobart Town, where it actually underwent the ceremony, so vain in this instance, of a public execution, by being gibbetted on Hunter’s Island, where it hung for more than a twelvemonth.

Many other criminals were thus exposed on this little rock, then a conspicuous object in Sullivan’s Cove (on which Hobart Town fronts), until it was swallowed up, so to speak, in the “Old Wharf;” till public disgust was so aroused by the barbarous and never absent spectacle, that in June of 1816, they were all removed to another part of the coast, a little further south, where they were stuck up again like scare-crows, and with about the same admonitory effect.

Howe bore off Whitehead’s head, but seems to have dropped it in the dark, for I read in the Gazette of the 13th of December, 1817, that it had just been found, and circumstances were such as to leave no doubt about its identity.

Howe rejoined his companions, and henceforward acted as their leader, their number being now reduced to [seven] by the death of Whitehead.

They now found it necessary to evacuate New Norfolk again, and betook themselves to the Tea-tree Brush, a few miles off, which, as its name implies, was then a place of thickets, where they hoped to rest unobserved for a little. But those everlasting tormentors of theirs, the soldiers, soon winded them again, and pounced quite unexpectedly on the hut they occupied, but when there were only two of them at home, the rest being away on some evil business no doubt. The soldiers were in it at once; but thoughtlessly leaving no guard at the door, the others flew out, directly the last of the soldiers was within, and running into the scrub, were out of sight directly. The disappointed assailants fired after them, but ineffectually, and both escaped their pursuers, but only to fall into the hands of another party of soldiers a few days afterwards at Kangaroo Point, whither they had wandered. They proved to be Richard McGuire and Hugh Burne.

Howe and the rest soon afterwards returned homewards, but finding that soldiers were in possession of their wig-wam, of course, came not near it again.

A Court Martial, never tardy in its movements or decisions, was soon assembled to try McGuire and Burne, and made short work with them, and sentenced both to die, for aiding in the deaths of Messieurs Carlisle and O’Birne, and their bodies were added to the other horrors of Hunter’s Island.

What became of Howe and his party after the misadventures of the last few days, that cost them three lives, I am at a loss to say; and a gap occurs in their history, which neither the Gazettes at my command, or other authorities enable me to fill up. But that they remained quiet for a few months seems certain, for no trace of them can be discovered in the publications alluded to.

It cannot now be ascertained in what way Howe and his companions supported themselves at this time, nor where they lay in concealment; but Colonel Sorell says, they had secret connexions nearly everywhere, whose connivance they had abundant means of securing; so it must have gone hard with them, if they could not have lived a few months, and well too, amongst these friends, without resorting to house-breaking, or robbery on the highways.

But in whatever way they occupied themselves whilst in hiding, they tired of it at last, and took again to their old practices with such ardour, as shewed that they had not passed their seclusion in a penitential manner; and they turned up again in the beginning of the antipodal summer of 1816, largely reinforced in numbers, from five, when they went into retirement, to thirteen, when they emerged from it. This coalition took place between June and August.

The Gazette of the 3rd August, 1810, thus announces the alarming fact, with its usual disregard of the proprieties of orthography and grammar:

“We have this afternoon received information that the banditti (consisting of Michael Howe, Peter Septon, James Geary, George Jones and Richard Collyer) which have been so long in the Woods of this Island, committing Murders and Robberies, has joined with those Desperadoes that are Advertised in the front of this Paper which now consists to the number of thirteen.”

These new allies were Matthew Keegan, Peter Franks, Thomas Garland, John Chapman, William Johnson, John Parker, Emanuel Levy, and George Watts. But in three or four weeks the party dwindled down to ten, by the jibbing of Johnson, Watts, and Levy.

Howe commenced this campaign with his usual vigour, and committed several robberies, Messieurs Stanfield, Pitt, Stynes, and Troy being amongst his first victims. The establishments of several others also fared the same. These feats followed each other with such rapidity as to baffle all pursuit. Acting with customary rapacity, he cleared out their premises of everything he could carry off; often taking property which, as it could be of no use personally to any of the party, must have been seized for trafficking only with his “correspondents.”

None of these pillagings were attended with personal violence of any kind. Howe even let Mr. Pitt off lighter than one would have thought, considering that he stood well up in the police force of the colony, every member of which he hated as the devil hates holy water. But Howe disliked unnecessary violence, and though he sometimes threatened it, using hard words and black looks, he never would permit it except in self-defence, or when, according to his style of thinking, he believed his victims deserved it, as in the cases of McCarthy and Humphrey; and though he often made the ladies of the places he visited, surrender everything they had, except what they stood in, they were otherwise treated most respectfully. His followers were quite habituated to this, and I will here quote an example of it from the Gazette of the 22nd February, 1817.

Three of the party were at this time separated from the main body, and like Abraham not caring to live in the country of his kinsman Lot, went into the North, and were soon briskly at work in the districts about Launceston. A gentleman escorting two ladies, was travelling westerly from that town, and had reached a place then known as the Black Snake, twenty miles from L’ton, when “they descryed,” says the Gazette, “three men, which they supposed to be part of the guard which Major Stewart had kindly directed to accompany the carts; but on their nearer approach, they perceived them to be three bushrangers, named Septon, Jones, and Brown. These unhappy creatures, fearful of any information reaching the Settlement, or the parties which now guard it, conducted the ladies and their Guide to a farm-house, where they detained them during the night. It is gratifying for us to remark, that these outlaws behaved in the most becoming manner, having refused to take any refreshment till the ladies had done; and even led their horses the next day over the difficult part of the New River, known by the name of Macquarie’s Crossing place,” where they left them, when out of danger, having more important business on hand than to act as “Squires of Dames” any longer, namely, to make a domiciliary visit to Messieurs T. Archer and R. Dry, both of whose houses they fleeced without loss of time.

To return to Howe; after the robberies of Stanfield and others, the gang having roused the Government into activity again, found it expedient to get out of the way once more: and whilst in concealment they must have been rejoined by their polite companions from the North, from whom they probably received such accounts of the fatness of the land, as determined them to visit it, and judge for themselves.

The settlers of the north, had suffered pretty considerably from bushrangers, having several gangs of their own rearing amongst them. But these were composed of petty fellows only, who had none of the notoriety of Howe’s people; and all were on the alert directly they knew they had crossed the country, and were settled amongst them. The commandant, Major Stewart, thus forewarned, prepare to meet them. The mention of Howe was enough for him; and the Launceston portion of the 40th, though somewhat disorganised and unruly, snuffed the battle from afar, like the war horse of scripture, and were ready for the enemy whenever and wherever he appeared, so Howe could not remain long on this now scene, as the pursuit was soon too hot for him; but he remained long enough to make wreck of one establishment.

On the 7th of November, 1816, Howe and his party presented themselves at the residence of Mr. D. Rose, which they assaulted in their usual menacing manner just after dark, and were masters of the place in a moment. Mr. Rose had some friends staying with him at the time, who had just before this arrived from Ceylon, to settle in Tasmania, and they too had to submit to the hard fate of their host, and all were plundered most impartially, for Howe used to boast that in all his exactions, he had nothing to reproach himself for, on the score of making fish of one and flesh of another, so fleeced them all round of whatever they had, making no invidious distinctions. The ladies too, suffered just like the rest, and when he went away there was not the value of one shilling amongst the whole of them, except the clothes they had on them. Money, jewels, trinkets, watches, clothes, and goodness knows what else, all went into their capacious knapsacks, which they loaded till they could scarcely lift them, and then decamped to the joy of all, who were glad to see them disappear, without taking their lives as well as chattels.

The commandant of Launceston, though remiss enough at times, and seemingly pretty nearly as unruly as his men (see note at the end) behaved on this occasion like an active magistrate. Heading a strong party of the 46th he went after Howe’s party himself. But as that worthy had so good a start before a message could be delivered at Launceston and the soldiers roach Rose’s house, and managed his retreat so quietly, his men were far enough away, before the real pursuit began; and no tidings could be had of them any where. Therefore after a most fatiguing and exhausting search, that extended over several days, the commandant returned to his quarters again.

But Howe soon came to the surface again, a hundred miles from the scene of his last adventure, having after more than a week’s travel, reached the long and narrow valley of Bagdad safely, but I fancy by some unusual route, otherwise he must have fallen into the net of the fowler, which Captain Nairn, who managed military matters for Colonel Davey in the south, had set for him everywhere, that is, as far as the military force at command permitted; for Howe’s party was now hunted after high and low, like noxious animals, that are to be got rid of at any cost. Soldiers in fatigue dress, in uniform, and in disguise, were on the look-out for him where-ever it was thought there was a chance of trapping him; but he was to well informed, to fall into their snares just yet.

Having learned that there was a valuable lot of merchandise in transit between the “two settlements,” namely, Hobart Town and Launceston, and that it would pass through Bagdad on a particular day, he took post amongst the woods near to Haye’s residence, resolved to intercept it. He listened anxiously for the sound of wheels all day of the 17th of November when he expected its arrival, but that day closed without it arriving; for through some mishap, the proprietor of the goods, Mr. W. T. Stocker, was delayed on the road for twenty-four hours; for which Howe, when they met, like other offended dignitaries, demanded explanations, which not quite satisfying him, he gave him such a rating, as the mercantile man never heard in his life before: for Howe could not stop long anywhere just now, and the loss of a day might be fatal to him. But towards night of the 18th, the rumbling of carts on the unformed road was heard; when Howe, something after the manner of one of the heroes of the Beggar’s Opera, summoned his men to

” Haste to the road;

Hark! I hear the sound of coaches.”

or more properly, Mr. Stocker’s carts, which drove up with their precious freight to Mr. Hayes’ house, where they were to remain for the night. They carried not only several passengers, but what Howe’s party cared much more about, that is, just such wares as they wanted, of which in the end they took by far the best share, and valued, according to Mr. Stocker’s published declaration of his losses, at just £255 1s. 6d., “at prime cost;” the articles taken, of which there is a lengthy enumeration in the Gazette, being of the most varied description.

The bushrangers had plenty of conversation with the travellers, and surprised them by the accuracy of their information of the movements of the Government, particularly in matters relating to themselves, and generally also of what was going on in Hobart Town; and then finished this pleasant parley, by taking old Stocker’s watch from him.

They are charged on this occasion, with adding wanton destruction of property to robbery, in one of them sending a bullet into a keg of rum, which was all lost. But it is more probable that Howe thought it best to remove it out of his companions way; for though Sorell says they were very temperate men, still most who were harrassed as they were, and ever on the march, might possibly have liked to solace themselves for once in a way, with a nip or two of it, which it was on all accounts most prudent to prevent.

Oddly enough the chief constable of the territory, was that very night enjoying the hospitality of Hayes; and was in the house at the moment when the bushrangers, eleven in number, rushed into it. This praiseworthy conservator of the public peace, having a pretty good notion who the intruders were, took to his heels and ran off as hard as he could, till he was quite out of danger and wind also, leaving his host and the travellers, to make any terms they liked best with the enemy.

[To be continued.]

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EARLY TROUBLES OF THE COLONISTS by J. E. Calder (Pt. 2)

Mercury (Hobart, Tas. : 1860 – 1954), Thursday 20 November 1873, page 3

TASMANIAN HISTORY.

EARLY TROUBLES OF THE COLONISTS,

Illustrated by a Sketch of the Career of Michael Howe, “The last and worst of the Bushrangers.”

Written by J. E. Calder.

[Continued.]

When Howe had grown well into boyhood, he was placed on board a merchant ship of Hull, to commence life on his own account; and he actually served two years of his apprenticeship without bolting; a thing so unusual in the life of this scapegrace and habitual runaway, that it must on no account be passed over without notice. He then deserted.

From this service he passed by an almost natural transition, into that of his King and country, that is to say he entered on board a man-of-war, but whether voluntarily or through the agency of the Press-gang, I have no information; nor do I know how long he remained in it, or whether he took any part in the stirring events of the time. But to a man so impatient of restraint as he, it is easy to understand, that the severe, and even cruel discipline of the Royal Navy in the beginning of this century, must have been quite unbearable, and not at all in accord with the free-and-easy notions of such a man as Howe; and the next thing we hear of him is, that he quitted it in the same way that he left the mercantile marine, that is he deserted again.

I have received from a private source, an incident of Howe’s early life, that I have not met with in any book; but of which there can be no doubt, namely that he was once a soldier. This was when he was eighteen years old. This information is derived from a very old hand, still in life, who knew Howe, and he received the account from himself. Howe occassionally came to the place he lived at, and used when in the humour, to recount the adventures of his past life; but of which my informant after a lapse of fifty-five years or more, remembered nothing but this. From this service he also deserted.

It is of course impossible to keep up a continuous narrative of the life of any one, where the thread of it is so often broken, as in Howe’s case, beyond the power of uniting it again; and after some one of his desertions there occurs a blank in it, that I am unable to fill up. Where he next betook himself to, or by what means he henceforward eked out a living, I cannot say; but as time passed on, he returned to Pontefract or its neighbourhood again, and commenced a new career, a desperate and dangerous one indeed, as a robber on the Highways, which in those days was one of the shortest of outs to the gallows. But I think it may be presumed that he never acquired such notoriety in England as he did in Tasmania, and that he had no great success in his new business, for he was soon convicted of robbing a traveller on the road, a Yorkshire miller. For this offence he was tried at York Assizes on the 31st July, 1811, and received a seven-years sentence of transportation. He was kept in the gaol or the hulks some months after this, when he was put on board the “Indefatigable” convict ship, which reached Hobart Town in November of 1812. At this time he was about twenty-five years of age.

Whether he made any attempt to escape from gaol or not, I cannot say; but as he was probably confined in the strong castle of York, he most likely never had a chance; but he was scarcely on the deck of the prison ship, before he tried his luck, and his attempt, which was within an ace of being successful, was as dangerous as well could be.

He had a good part of a mile to swim before he could land. But watching his opportunity, off went his clothes, and over he leaped into the sea. The splash was heard – the alarm given of a convict overboard and escaping, and a shot or two were fired after him by the sentries at the gangways, while the boats were lowered with the lightning-like quickness of English sailors in an emergency, and the chase began. Howe being a strong swimmer, struck out for land like a frog, whilst the men in the boats strained every muscle to come up with him before he could reach the shore. The race was a good one. Howe having a good start, kept his lead well, and struck out manfully for his liberty; but the others were equally determined that he should either lose it or his life. Poor wretch, it had been better for him, and far better for Tasmania, if he had gone to the bottom. But the ship’s boats overhauled and headed him at last; and though he dived and doubled like a hunted duck, they got hold of him and took him back to the ship, and kept a watchful eye on him until the ship put to sea, when all chance of a second venture of this kind, was impossible.

Arrived in Tasmania, Howe, with the rest of the ” Indefatigibles,” as his precious shipmates were called, was handed over to the care of one of the superintendents of convicts, Mr. Paterson, and before long was assigned to the service of Mr. John Ingle, a gentleman who I believe, had formerly been an assistant under Mr. Paterson; but who had some time before quitted the captivating service of the Crown, and opened a store in Hobart Town, and getting on well in the world, soon possessed himself of considerable property both in town and country which I hear his descendants continue to hold, he having died very recently in England, where, at one time at least, he accumulated vast wealth on change. He has been described to me as an irascible person, and therefore not likely to keep so restless a man as Howe, long in his service, one who could never take a wrong word, they soon fell out, and he took to the bush, joining himself with a party of twenty eight other vagabonds, which was only one of many gangs then in the woods, and thus he took to the highways again, that is, he became a bushranger. This was in the early part of 1813, and thus commenced his six year career of guilt in Tasmania, a period which he himself described as one of such painful anxiety and unutterable misery, as to have once extorted the statement that he “believed the life of the damned was nothing to it.” To comprehend such a state of being is impossible, but it must have been worse than that of a wild beast.

It is recorded by the Commissioner Bigge, that at no time in the history of this colony was bushranging carried on so methodically, successfully, or on so great a scale, as it was in the fist year of Colonel Davey’s Government in 1813, just after the rule, or rather misrule of the three commandants, Captain Murray, Colonel Geils, and Lieutenant Lord, who had administered the Government here, during the time that intervened between the death of Colonel Collins on the 24th March, 1810, and the arrival of Colonel Davey here, 4th of Februaiy, 1811.

The Commissioner, speaking of the state of the country dining this year (page 108 of his first report on New South Wales and this colony), says: “The excesses of the bushrangers in the neighbourhood of Port Dalrymple, and likewise near Hobart Town, had attained their utmost height, and most sanguinary character, it the latter end of the year, 1813” * * * and, he continues, “so great was the intimidation produced, that the inhabitants of several districts, abandoned then dwellings, and removed for safety to the towns.” Such was the insecure condition of the country when Howe’s six year career commenced.

Throughout this long period, Howe seems to have had a particular fondness for the district of New Norfolk, and in so far as the imperfect records of these old times enable us to judge, it was here that he began to disturb the peace of the community, though of this I am not quite sure He indeed committed many robberies in other quarters, but his chief place of resort was round the country of New Norfolk, and what Sherwood Forest was to Robin Hood, the woods of this place were to Michael Howe, that is a home and precarious refuge

At the time of his disappearance from Mr Ingle’s service, there were, as was said above, numerous bushrangers in the field and he joined with twenty eight others, who acted under the leadership of a man named John Whitehead. These fellows are all advertised in the very first numbers of the “Van Diemen’s Land Gazette, and General Advertiser,” June 1814. Whitehead is there called Edward, but this is a mistake. Howe’s name is amongst the number, and also that of a scamp named Edward Beagent, (of whom I shall hay o to say a little by-and-bye), which figures with Howe’s in this terrible list. This old bushranger Beagent, was afterwards the first, of one of the first land lords of one of the principal hotels in this city. Such are the vicissitudes of fortune.

The depredations of these men, were doubtlessly numerous enough, but as they have not attracted any very serious notice from the writers of the time, they were perhaps not very remarkable That they were not accompanied by murder, is certain; for when the Governor in Chief, Macquarie, published his ill advised Proclamation, offering pardon to the many outlaws then in the bush, not guilty of murder, the whole of this gang were able to avail themselves of the amnesty, and surrendered themselves before the 1st day of December of that year, to which time the amnesty extended

Several very grave mistakes were made by some of the Governors of these colonies, in the early years of the present century in their dealings with this class of men, whom they were often powerless to put down and this proclamation was one of them. Its intention was to recall these men from the bush, and a life of rapine; but its real effect was to authorise bushranging, during the whole of the time that it continued in force, namely six months and a half; and it was so viewed and acted on – and with legal impunity – by all the robbers then in the woods. The “Commissioner of Inquiry,” thus describes its results, (page 109) :-

“The effect of this proclamation was the reverse of that which was intended. It increased the crimes and audacity of the bushrangers, during the interval of six months that it allowed them for return; they profited by the pardon, by making a temporary surrender, and then resumed their habits of plunder,” &c. This was just the case with both Howe and Whitehead; they accepted pardon for past delinquencies, and took to the woods again soon afterwards.

How the members of this party were disposed of after their surrender, is not explained; but as I find Beagent afterwards in the service of the Judge Advocate, I presume they were sent into private service, or placed on the Government works. But whether or not, their condition seems to have satisfied neither Whitehead nor Howe, who soon threw the Governors pardon to the winds, and took to the bush and then old courses again. Whether any of their old companions followed their example or not, I do not know but if they did, none of them rejoined Whitehead or Howe.

The notoriety of these two men, soon attracted others to them, and shortly afterwards they were at the head of a party, less numerous indeed than they were used to, but far more daring than any known before. Their robberies were now nearly every day occurrences, and it is recorded of them, that scarcely a settler in the New Norfolk district escaped their visitations. It was their invariable custom so to clear out the settlers houses, that nothing was left behind that they could remove. Of these troublesome fellows, Whitehead was the leader.

Having made prize of nearly every thing they could lay hands on in New Norfolk, sheer necessity or restlessness drove them out of their favourite district at last, which they quitted about as reluctantly us the sloth does the tree he feeds on, when its last green leaf is devoured. Casting their eyes about them, like the wandering Israelites of old, thev decided on entering into the fertile and untouched lands of the Canaanites of Pittwater, where they made their undesired appearance about March 1815

This delightful district of the South East, was pretty well settled over even at this time. It was nevertheless about as dull and animated a place, as the Castle of Indolence or Sleepy Hollow ever were, the listless inhabitants dreaming away their lives in contented torpor and indifference about the things of this world or the next, till the intrusive Whitehead and his company put a little life into them They worked when they could not help it, and frittered away the rest of their time in happy idleness, and unconcern of the future. But this state of things was too pleasant to last for ever, and their now friends soon freshened them up a little, and before long, there was such bustle in the place, as was never known m Pittwater before.

No sooner had they taken possession of the promised land, than they set to work with customary activity, and speedily ransacked half the establishments in the place.

But there were two gentlemen who held property in this district, who in their official capacities, had continued to make themselves obnoxious to some of the gang, and on whom, they determined to take a full and deep revenge for past delinquencies, as they thought them. Their victims were the Police Magistrate of the territory, Mr Humphrey, and Mr. Reardon, the District Constable of Pittwater, both of whom had valuable estates there. Vengeance only, and not plunder, incited them to visit the homesteads of these settlers, which were pretty close together. The men who took part in the outrage that followed, where Whitehead and Garland only, the rest either refusing, or not caring to join them in their detestable adventure. So at least says Bent. But I believe that a man named Watts devised this mischief.

The night of the 10th March was fixed on for the execution of this malicious act. Proceeding as noiselessly as possible to the premises in the dark, they reached the rick-yards unperceived, where the harvest of the season was stacked. To strike a light and apply it to the ricks of both was the work of a minute only, and the long pent up vengeance of the incendiaries was appeased. They then decamped.

Howe and the rest of the party were long credited with having taken part in this malevolent enterprise, but they were guiltless of any thing more than knowing of it, and, perhaps, were not even guilty of that. By their absence from the scene, they may have discountenanced it, or rather, perhaps, thought it was no part of their business to address the injuries of others, whether fancied or real.

This transaction was probably the cause of their stay at Pittwater being brought to a close a little sooner than they intended; and as it now became necessary to sound the retreat, they fell back for a brief space on the already half-devastated district of New Norfolk, where their most unexpected re-appearance was about as unwelcome as snow in summer time. But there was no help for it, as after the recent outrage at Pittwater, the place was too dangerous for them, at any rate until the storm they had raised there had blown over, when they might renew their acquaintance with their new friends; and as there were still a few in New Norfolk who had suffered nothing at their hands yet, they decided on giving them a benefit before returning to Pittwater.

It was in April that the smoke of the bivouacs of these brigands, was once more seen in the glens of the New Norfolk ranges, and was viewed with general alarm, as the certain omen of the return of evil days.

The gang now consisted of eight, besides two camp followers, if they may be so styled, namely, two native girls, who were their constant attendants for a long time. One of these unfortunate creatures was known by the name of Black Mary, and lived for two or three years in a state of concubinage with Howe.

This companion remained with him till April of 1817, when they were separated in a sharp pursuit after them by soldiers, at Jericho, into whose hands she there fell. Henceforth she acted as bush guide to the military, and ultimately died in the hospital at Hobart Town, on the 29th June, 1819. Of this woman, I shall have a few words to say at the end of this paper.

The bushrangers now counted amongst themselves some of the most resolute men who ever took the bush. Their leader Whitehead, and James Geary, a deserter from a detachment of the 73rd regiment that was stationed here, were men whose audacity, Howe himself never surpassed; and if they were inferior to him in any thing, it was only in personal strength and activity, of which he had an uncommon share. To master him single handed in a struggle, or to run him down fairly, were things not to be done, or at least never were. But Geary was quite his equal in determination, and he has been described to me by the late Mr. Beamont (this gentleman was formerly Provost Marshal here), and several others, as a very fiend. The whole of this party and others also, who were drilled by Whitehead and Howe, possessed other qualities besides daring, that fitted them eminently for the dangerous calling they followed. Sorell writing of them says, “their perfect knowledge of the country, and habits of fatigue, temperance and caution, render them a difficult adversary,” and few knew them better than he, or wrote so much about them in official despatches. Such men as these, were not therefore to be easily beaten, unless when surprised or betrayed. Their habits of caution it is true, prompted them never to run unnecessary risks, or to fight for fighting’s sake only. But they were soon to give proof of what they could do in this line, when forced into it.

On the 25th of April, 1815, they robbed Mr. Carlisle, a settler of New Norfolk.

The free inhabitants of New Norfolk, many of whom were half ruined by the never ending pillagings of those bushrangers, and whom they hoped they had got rid of for ever when they quitted this district for Pittwater, were greatly excited when they learned that they had returned to it again, and had set up their tents amongst them once more; and as it was scarcely possible for things to be worse with them than they were, several of the most daring of them resolved to try the effects of hard blows on the hard heads of the robbers; in other words, to drive them out of the place by force. The task was a doubtful one, but something must be done to get rid of these obnoxious intruders, who kept the district in constant turmoil and disorder.

In a community like New Norfolk, where so many were already half ruined by the exactions of those fellows, some fightable men will always be found, ready to assail the common enemy; and this district was not at all deficient of the fighting element that was just now wanted to drive out, disperse, or destroy these freebooters. There was Mr. Dennis McCarthy, a most active and pugnacious poison. This gentleman was a merchant, a publican, and shipowner, and the brig Sophia and some smaller craft belonged to him, one of which latter was just now moored in the river at New Norfolk, too near to the bushrangers haunts to be either safe or pleasant, and as they had been known to say they would some day seize her, he, of course, had his misgivings about her safety. Mr. Jemott, too (the same I believe who was afterwards chief of police at Clarence), was luckily there at the moment, and he might be safely trusted to do his share in any fight, and was, of course, a ready volunteer. The master and mate of McCarthy’s schooner, the Geordie, Messieurs O’Birne and Hacking, to whom the loss of the vessel would have been as disastrous as to McCarthy, were also ready for a brush with the bushrangers; then there were five others, all of whom had a long account to settle with Whitehead’s people, whenever the day of reckoning came round. These were Messieurs Triffitt, Brown, Murphy, Toombs, and Carlisle. Mr. McCarthy took the command of the assailing party, and if he had only shown as much prudence as pluck, the encounter might not have ended as it did with him, that is in disaster only. But he was hot-headed, and had no other idea of fighting, but of coming to blows at once, not even using any accidental advantages of position, such as the cover of trees and the like.

But the tactics of the enemy whom he was now about to try his hand on, were just the reverse of all this. They threw no chances away when forced to stand up against any one. There were also old soldiers amongst them, who had seen a world of hard service against Napoleon’s soldiers in Spain, Calabria and elsewhere. Geary was one, and Septon too (who had been in the Rifles,) had carried a musket against the French. Howe was also a soldier and a man-of-warsman, and all these had gone through severe training in early life, which was most serviceable to them on an occasion like the present; so that any assailants who were led by so impulsive a person as McCarthy, stood only a sorry chance of coming out of such a fray as took place, with anything except hard blows and discomfiture for their pains.

Mayday morning of 1815, was one of unusual bustle and excitement in the districts near New Norfolk. The robbers, who had camped the night before on a small water-run, called a little too magniloquently the Back river, about three miles above Elizabeth Town, i.e. the present township of New Norfolk, were early at their mischievous work of plundering the various homesteads of the little settlement, long indeed before the sun had risen above the hills that enclose it; and there was some fighting between them and such of the settlers who did not choose to see their homes desolated without resistance, but I believe that nothing very damaging to either side took place. Tidings of those outrages reached McCarthy before nine o’clock of this morning, who at once put his own premises in a state of defence, for he was not one whom it was too safe to trifle with. But the march of the robbers was not in his direction, and on learning this, he at once beat up for volunteers to pursue the enemy, and the persons whom I have named above, joined him in the adventure, with whom he set off to drive them out of place. The pursuing party first called at the house of Mr. Robert Hays, which was amongst the first that had suffered this day, but the banditti had already quitted it, taking the direction of Mr. James Triffitt’s farm-house, which they also despoiled. From this place they struck off for the Macquarie Plains, and had proceeded about a mile on their way, when McCarthy’s party brought them to bay.

The bushrangers were generally very well informed of all that was passing around them, of which many instances are recorded. But of the expedition now coming against them, they had no intelligence. It was, as we have seen, a hurried affair, got up and executed so suddenly, as to be quite unexpected; and had the assailing party been cautiously led, the others might have been surprised. But on came McCarthy, without disguise, or even too much silence, and the cracking of dead sticks under the feet of the rapidly advancing force, warned the others of their approach, and they turned just in time to hear McCarthy challenge them to surrender themselves his prisoners. But Whitehead and his men did not understand this, and instead of heeding it, instantly placed themselves in cover of some hollow trees that stood near. A sharp firing now began on both sides, but the bullets of the assailants were of course only thrown away on men so well protected as the others, and as they stood themselves quite exposed like targets to the damaging fire of their opponents, (they having no experiences of bush fighting), five of their number were sent down in a very few minutes. The affair ended, in the complete discomfiture of the settlers, and the unwounded four were forced to retreat, but they gallantly carried four of the wounded well out of the fire, where for the present they left them. The bushrangers did not pursue the retreating party, or they might have shot them all. Poor Murphy remained in their hands, some one of whom it is said proposed to ill-treat the disabled man, but this their leaders would not hear of. The robbers then retired themselves; and as soon as possible after McCarthy reached his home, he sent out a conveyance and brought in all his disabled companions.

The wounds of Carlisle and O’Birne were mortal. The first named died very soon after the fight, in about an hour only it is reported. The other, who had received a charge of slugs in the face, lingered on to the 20th, when he also succumbed.

[To be continued.]

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My Story: Georgina Stones and Michael Howe

On this cold and wet Tasmanian afternoon, as I sit at my desk listening to the inescapable rasping call of a native hen, my mind begins pondering the question posed to me for the writing of this essay; ‘Has Michael Howe been mispresented?’ (No, do not rub your eyes or adjust your screen brightness, you read those words correctly.) I understand this may seem odd to some and perhaps hardly worth touching upon, let alone worthwhile reading. After all the man was a violent psychopath, he set fire to half of Van Diemen’s Land and left a wake of destruction wherever he trod. The history books and newspaper reports tell us so, do they not? In fact, according to Thomas Wells, Michael was a man who committed crimes “with the coolest indifference” and was “never known to perform one humane act.” Surely there is no way such strong declarations could possibly be wrong? Surely the records were properly scoured before such judgments were cast? Or were they? Firstly, I must begin by admitting that this is a question I never believed I would be answering, let alone examining in such detail. In fact, if asked for my thoughts on the subject of Michael’s misrepresentation several months ago, I would have shaken my head and given the reply of most Tasmanians: “What is there to misrepresent?” At that time, I could not have contemplated the degree to which Michael’s character has been cruelly defaced by the scrawls of ignorance and just how much his memory has become blackened. Over the past month, however, I have found myself completely drawn to this “rough sailor-looking fellow”, with his “profusion of coarse hair” and “deep set eyes”, who had a fondness for gardening, knitting and reading. Which in turn has led me to dedicate my free time to pouring over witness statements, government dispatches, newspaper articles and history books. This obsessive search to better understand Michael, led me to discover that the Michael Howe who has long been presented has almost no semblance to reality. In fact, much of what has been written about his actions completely contradict those detailed within primary source documents, with some events entirely omitted from both posthumous reports and those written during his lifetime. This discovery quickly awakened my bloodhound-like tenacity and in turn has sparked a serious yearning to tell Michael’s story and to redeem the character of this Yorkshireman, who himself expressed regret at feeling “greatly injured by the country at large.”

For some, the simple mention of the name ‘Michael Howe’, or as he himself pronounced it in his Yorkshire accent, ‘Mick’l’, is enough to cause a shudder. Which as it happens, was the exact reaction given by my father when he found out I had become interested in this “demon bushranger”. Eyeing the illustrations Aidan had done of Michael he asserted, “He was bad man, Georgina. You better not be trying to make him out to be someone he wasn’t,” and as I listened, tight-lipped, I knew there had to have been more to this man than what is commonly told. Which, as it so happens, is exactly the case and my wish to remove the black cloak from Michael shoulders has led to me to uncover details about his character which has brought me a strong sense of pride. I believe the lack of understanding and compassion given to Michael is tremendously sad, and even while alive the want of these things seems to have been something he longed for. According to James Calder (a 19th century writer and researcher who is quickly becoming my idol), after Michael’s surrender to Captain Nairn, “he was visited by the Chief Superintendent of Convicts, Mr. Paterson, to whose charge he had been consigned when he first landed here, and who had shown him kindness. This gentleman once more uttered a few fatherly words to him. Howe had been so long a stranger to civil words, that he warmly expressed his thanks for the slight attention now shown to him, saying he had often thought of the old superintendent with kindly feelings.” It can also be argued that this want of kindness, or remembering those that had showed it to him, was why he specifically wrote about his sister Mary in both his journal and the gardening book he took from Mr. Pitt. Like his journal of dreams, this book was held together with kangaroo skin, which Michael had sewn “very neatly with sinews”. Owing to him being a great lover of gardening, Michael had “so studied it, as to have thumbed its covers off”, and on the flyleaf of the book recorded Mary’s birthday, in conjunction with the number of years they had been “parted”. It is moving to think of Michael, alone in his hut on the upper Shannon River, remembering his life back in Pontefract and the sister who loved him.

Another reality at odds with the known narrative is the way in which Michael treated the men and women he stuck up, which is a point highlighted by witness statements and Calder who asserts, “none of these pillagings were attended with personal violence of any kind…Howe disliked unnecessary violence, and though he sometimes threatened it, using hard words and black looks, he never would permit it except in self-defence, or when, according to his style of thinking, he believed his victims deserved it.” One such example is seen at Governor Davey’s residence at Coal River, near Richmond, which Michael and his gang robbed on the evening of the 8th of September 1816. Not wishing to alarm the wife of Mr. Peachey the overseer, Michael instructed the man to wake up his wife and allow her to dress before he entered. Once he had scoured the room of what he “stood in need of”, Michael informed Mr. Peachey of the items he had taken, adding he had “not touched his wearing apparel.” It was also noted by the overseer that before leaving, Michael asked for his dictionary, promising to return it when the book had served its purpose. An item which would no doubt have served ‘the lieutenant-governor of the woods’ well in his communications with ‘the lieutenant-governor of the town.’

This habit of only taking the necessities is seen throughout many of the robberies Michael was in command of and differs greatly from the belief that he and his gang ransacked these premises with the zeal of a Roman legion. For the most part, green tea (black tea was bitter and undesired by the settlers), flour, sugar, ammunition, weaponry, clothing, blankets, needles and thread, and meat, were the necessities taken. The only occasion these acts differed was on the 10th of May 1815, while raiding the house of Mr. Adolarius William Henry Humphrey, a police magistrate who was known for abusing convicts. Humphrey and his wife were not at their Pitt Water (Sorrell) home when Michael broke open their front door with an axe, which was fortunate for the magistrate as Michael and his gang had expressed their desire to murder the unkindly man in order to “prevent him ever flogging another man” or “serving out slop” to convicts. Once inside the house, the gang began searching the premises for necessities which on this occasion also included Humphrey’s compass; an item Michael would come to show Thomas Seals the following year.  While he and two other members of his gang, James Geary and Richard McGwyre were filling their knapsacks, Michael came upon two pairs of leg irons, with the discovery sending his blood cold. Fetching the remainder of his gang from the servant hut, they proceeded to smash everything left in the house, knowing all too well the weight of irons clasped at their ankles.  Before leaving, Michael relayed to one of the servants that they would have left quietly if it weren’t for finding the leg irons. Further to this, the gunfight between Irishman Dennis McCarty and the gang on the 24th of April 1815 is another event which has seen key details omitted from newspaper and posthumous accounts. Unlike what is often presented, Michael did not surprise McCarty with a barrage of musket fire, but rather it was McCarty who opened fire upon the unsuspecting gang while they rested beneath trees on the banks of the Derwent River near New Norfolk. In response to this attack, the gang, excepting Michael and James Geary, left their weapons and ran a little up the hill, which led to McCarty defiantly shouting, “now you dogs, if you are men, face us like men!” Adhering to this order, the remaining members of the gang, including Mary Cockerill, retrieved their arms and the firing commenced. With the wounding of five of McCarty’s men, Carlisle, Murphy, O’Burne, Triffett and Jemott, one of the gang, most likely Michael, demanded a cease fire with the wild call, “McCarty, stop, you scoundrel, it is you we want, or we will blow your brains out!”

Such acts of violence were few and far between and the gathering of weapons from settlers, it should be remembered, was vital if Michael and the gang were to stand a chance against soldiers, with them believing there were “two or three parties of soldiers out” at the time of the fight with McCarty. Furthermore, the burning of haystacks and barns, like those carried out on the wheat and corn harvests of Bartholomew Reardon and Humphrey, were not overseen by Michael and it is unclear whether he was even aware of their undertaking until afterwards. Instead, these were the actions of George Watts, Thomas Garland and James Whitehead (not John). In my research, I have discovered that many of the acts attributed to Michael, which are often used to further demonise him, were undertaken by others and often times are quite fanciful in their diversion of fact, with the known narrative’s description of the burning of wheat stacks and gunfight with McCarty clear cases of this. I feel I must also point that Watts and Garland’s act of wanton destruction was too much for James and he left the pair shortly after, declaring to a servant that he did not feel safe among them. For me, James’ comment about not trusting Watts and Garland, brings into question why James continued to stand by Michael if he was as cruel and unhinged as he is portrayed. How could he have trusted his life with ‘the wild beast of the ranges’? By all accounts, James had a strong moral compass and like Michael, treated the men and women within his company with respect. On one occasion, a servant by the name of George Green expressed his regret at seeing James in such a situation, with James replying he was sorry to find himself in the situation also, adding it never would have been the case if not for the treatment of his previous master.

Another gang member who was known to show respect was Peter Septon, who, like Michael, had served time in the British army. While travelling close to Launceston, accompanied by George Jones and John Brown, the trio met a gentleman in the company of two ladies. Fearful of their whereabouts reaching the ears of soldiers, the gang took them to a farm house, where it was stated the “outlaws behaved in the most becoming manner, having refused to take any refreshment till the ladies had done; and even led their horses the next day over the difficult part of the New River.” In conjunction with this action, upon seeing a servant of Governor Davey’s by the name of Lucas was unwell, Peter mixed the man up a concoction of milk and wine, while Michael made himself a tankard of eggnog. Such actions, for which I have only mentioned a few, are omitted from nearly all the tellings of Michael’s life, but of course, you never let the truth get in the way of a good story, do you?

While the known narrative may portray Michael as a paranoid and unhinged leader, this could not be further from the truth. By all accounts, he kept the gang in orderly control and no man or woman were ever molested or left fearing for their life by his actions. In fact, as I have come to find, there is a stark difference in the way the gang conducted themselves when Michael was leading them as opposed to when he was not at the helm. The first example of this is in October 1814, when while robbing McCarty’s house John Mills repeatedly threatened to “fuck” Mrs. McCarty, who he deemed to be a “whore”. It should be noted that Mills was a man who Michael noted to a solider he would only have freed from Launceston “if he was worth the risk.” The other example is seen in the second robbing of Lieutenant-Governor Davey’s house, when George Jones, visibly drunk, made the servants drink rum, threatening them if they did not partake of spirit. Such actions, along with a list of others, are often laid at Michael’s feet but this is simply ignorant of the facts and nowhere better are his beliefs described then by Thomas Seals, who had been told, “if I would be a friend to them, they would reward me well […] for they were fully determined to be like Turpin, to rob from the rich and give to the poor.”

In concluding this essay, I wish to point out the lack of inclusion about Mary Cockerill is due to truth differing greatly from the narrative. There was no baby, there was no incredible love story (highlighted by her own actions), and he certainly did not shoot her for falling behind. Just how Mary and the other unnamed Aboriginal woman came to be with the gang is unclear, but it is likely they left abuse and slavery just as Michael and the others had done. They would have proved invaluable in reading tracks and keeping them away from aboriginal tribes, which proved near fatal to Michael while alone, as recorded in his journal.

By no means is this an exhaustive list of the wrong-doings done to Michael’s character over the last 200 years and nor does it include an explanation for every event and action in his 31 years of life, for such pieces are still to be written. However, what I hope this essay does do is convey the truth of who Michael Howe was and to bring forward details which have long remained in the shadows.

Sources

Historical Records of Australia, Series 3, Volume 2.

Historical Records of Australia, Series 3, Volume 3.

‘Michael Howe: The Last and Worst of the Bushrangers of Van Diemen’s Land’, by T.E. Wells.

‘Tasmanian History: Early Troubles of the Colonists’, by J. E. Calder.

‘Governor of the Ranges: Mike Howe, Wild Beast of Tasmania’, by Bernard Cronin and Arthur Russel.

‘History of Australian Bushranging’, Volume 1, by Charles White.

Baptism record of Mary Howe located on Ancestry.com and comes from the parish of Pontefract, St Giles.

Source for correct name of James Whitehead comes from witness statements (Historical Records of Australia), his prison record (Ancestry.com) and his death record (Tasmanian Convict Registry).  

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