xenith | Entries tagged with brady

While looking for other things, of course, I found my missing book that I referred to in this post (so you look at that to see what the hell I'm talking about). The year of the story is later 1824.

He stopped and screwed up his eyes, dazzled, as he came out of the wood and into sunlight. There was a stone cottage ahead.... There were strange animals near the house. A white kangaroo. Two small black bear-like creatures. They didn't run away, though. Neither did the native porcupine that was sitting on the doorstep.
...
She stood in the doorway that led into the house--a tall girl in a peignoir throw over a nightgown. There was, Brady saw with a feeling of unreality, a magpie sitting on her shoulder. Her hair was very long, dark and straight and reaching to her waist.
...
Her name was Emma Davis. She was the widow of an army officer who had secured a land grant, brought her to Van Diemen's Land then died. She had been twenty-five then.... She had been left a little money--not enough to live on in England but, with the cottage, sufficient for this shepherdess kind of life where she could milk her cows and grow things in the garden. She loved caring for animals; those he'd seen outside had been sick and, now made well again, preferred to stay with her. And she wrote poetry and studied nature and played the flute a little.
...
Her talk and manners were those of a lady, yet she milked cows, cleaned her house and adapted a shirt and trousers of her late husband's for him as well an any cottager. At times, she behaved like a demi-mondaine--she'd come into the kitchen on more than one occasion in her night-attire, showing far more bosom and ankle than was seemly and leading Brady to guess that she exposed more than her face and arms to the sun, yet she was as modest as a nun in her dealings with him.

From "And Wretches Hang: the true and authentic story of the rise and all of Matt Brady, bushranger", Richard Butler

Last random entry for today because I am tired, and sick of fighting with computer. This the first in a series that was published in the Examiner. I saved to a folder on the drive years ago, but I'll just use the first one :)

BRADY AND HIS ASSOCIATES.

Sir, I am aware that it is next to impossible for a writer to give en exact description of occurrences of 60 years back. At the same time an eye witness, on whose memory the scenes remain as vividly as if they had happened yesterday, naturally has a desire to see them related correctly, and, perhaps, "B" may also like to be in possession of the real facts of his story. I do not propose to add to the necessarily brief and rapid sketch which he given of the startling events that were crowded into that night at Elphin with the exception of one instance in order to further elucidate the character of Brady.

My father, hearing a gun discharged at the back of the house, went out to see what it meant, not suspecting bushrangers, when he was immediately seized by armed men from each side of the back porch, one of whom, annoyed at resistance, gave him a bayonet thrust, but the weapon getting tangled in his necktie, the man gave him a blow on the head with it, and when he was taken back into the house the blood was seen running over his face. The wound was dressed by his son-in law, Dr. Landale, Brady assisting and expressing his sorrow for what was done, and threatened summary punishment on any man who offered further violence.

There was not a large party of friends collected, the only visitors being Dr. Landale and his wife. The family consisted of my father and mother, myself, then a boy nearly eight years old, and my younger sister, too young a child to retain any distinct memory of what took place. My brother and my other sisters were from home at school.

The story of Brady requesting one of the ladies to seat herself at the piano, and singing to the music, is probably founded on the fact that while the bushrangers were surrounding the house, my sister, Mrs. Landale, was playing on that instrument the ominous air "The Campbells are coming."

The servant alluded to having been thrust into a room and the door locked, escaped by a second door, eluded Brady's sentry within a few yards of him, and made straight for Mr. Mulgrave's, the P.M., who despatched a message to the barracks, and at once armed himself and hurried to Elphin accompanied by one soldier, one constable, and, I think, the messenger. In the meantime Brady having been signalled by one of his sentries that men were on the move towards the house, collected his men with a whistle, gave the order, " Now my lads, we must go," and retired to an outhouse, whence they intended to give the soldiers a warm reception. Mr. Mulgrave rushed into the house at the front, double-barrelled gun in hand, enquiring in excited tones, " Where are the scoundrels?" and was answered by a volley from the outhouse, one bullet taking a piece out of the soldier's coat, one leaving a round hole in an upper window, and several leaving their track along the shingles of the porch, where it could he seen for many years. Brady and his men then removed to a field bounded by the Patterson's Plains and Elphin roads. Then arrived Dr. Priest, who would not dismount but insisted on reconnoitring, and rode round the field where the bushrangers were. As he passed they fired a volley, nine bullets hitting the horse, and two piercing his knee. I saw the dead horse riddled with bullets. The doctor was taken, not to Launceston, but to Elphin, where he was well known, and where he died after a fortnight's suffering. When he at length consented to have the limb amputated his medical brethren agreed that it was too late to perform the operation. Dr. Priest's white trousers accounted for the line in which the bullets took effect.

A good deal of plunder was collected, and bound in bundles, and a horse and cart were got in readiness for carrying it away, but, thanks to Mr. Mulgrave's prompt action, these bundles were left behind, and so were the horse and cart.

Colonel Balfour was riding past some men whom he mistook for his own. Hearing the click of fire-locks he called out, " My men, what are you doing ? I'm the colonel," and was replied to by shots, which blew off his cap and pierced it. Some ten soldiers were sent to Elphin under a lieutenant, but did not arrive till the bushrangers had disappeared. The officer said that he had made a detour with a view of cutting off their retreat. He had to endure much "chuff" on this account, but I presume he did what he judged to be the right thing.

Brady, when captured, was wearing Colonel Balfour's cap. He was brought along the Elphin road well guarded, and on horseback, his leg being wounded. My father met him, and had a conversation with him, and took me with him. I observed that the prisoner spoke calmly, and occasionally smiled and joked. He was certainly a different man from the run of bushrangers, and, perhaps, had he lived under milder laws in the first instance, would have exhibited a very different course of life.

Yours, etc., William Dry

Launceston Examiner, 1 February 1888

What I'm doing

Probably I shouldn't include Mrs Davis, because she doesn't play an important part in the story, but you can't expect me to pass on Brady & Co, and she is interesting -- for something it's claimed she didn't do.

This little notice appeared in the Hobart Town Gazette on the 8th July 1825:

Brady and McCabe made their appearance during the week, at the Farm of A.F. Kemp, Esq. up the country. They had previously been robbing some individual;--and it is supposed are harboured by a woman named Davis, who lives in the interior.

About five years after Lt-Gov Sorell managed to suppress his outbreak of bushranging, fourteen men escaped from Macquarie Harbour in a whale boat. Of course, within weeks of their escape, all but two were capture and dealt with. And at the time of that notice, L-Gov Arthur probably thought it just a matter of time until the last two were rounded up. Unfortunately for him, they went on to build up a gang of considerable size that terrorised the colonies for a few months to come.

Although McCabe's time was soon to come. By the end of the year he was in custody and awaiting his execution in January. The Colonial Times reported on his hanging, along with seven others, in some detail. Underneath that was this paragraph:

This morning, immediately before the Execution, the Rev. Mr. Conolly communicated to the High Sheriff, that M'Cabe wished to speak to him. Mr. Fereday went to him instantly. He stated, that it having been reported that Brady and himself had been harboured by a Mrs. Davis, near the Black Marsh, he declared, as a dying man, that such a report was absolutely false. He had never seen Mrs. Davis in his whole life.

(Colonial Times and Tasmanian Advertiser 6 January 1825)

You think he protests too much?

( Cut for length. )

A copy of the note I was looking at today. There are two notes (but I couldn't find a copy of the other to stick in the photocopier), the other being the previous set of directions, sent to 'Lengan'. This one was sent to 'Logan'.

I have Sent Directions to You Before Go from the New Plains in a Direction for the White Marsh To You Come to a Creek Cross The creek and look for a large Sugar Lofe Go Neer the Top of it And look under ling Tree and There you will find the Guns and Close to there You will find a Riffle and also a Duble Barl Gun

Mathw Brady

Its accompanying "envelope" is addressed to:

His Excellency
Colonel George Arthur Esq(?)
Lieutenant Governor

If I put this here, I can link to it from the Sorell post :)

The township [of Sorell] then boasted of many houses, two hotels, a handsome church, the parsonage of the excellent Mr. Garrard, a "good gaol" and a schoolhouse. It was into such a populous and established neighbourhood that Brady, with Dunne, Bird, Murphy, and four others, dared to venture. Arriving at Mr. Bethune's house on the Friday evening, they took that gentleman, his overseer and servants, prisoners, and then made themselves comfortable for the night.

The next day was very wet, and the Bushrangers did not feel disposed to change their comfortable quarters. In the evening Mr. Walter Bethune and Captain Bunster rode up. Personating a servant, Brady came out and called for the groom to take Mr. Bethune's horse. When the gentlemen got inside they found themselves in the hands of the Philistines. But Brady at once allayed their fears, ordered dinner for them, and behaved with courtesy and respect. In the course of conversation at table, a remark was made about Brady offering to yield to Government. He indignantly denied that he had thought of such a thing. It was afterwards astertained that some other party represented himself to be Brady, when rifling a house at Bagdad, and there gave information of the intention of the gang to surrender. The brigand chief said that no occasion at present existed for such a course; for, when hard pressed by pursuit, they could easily retire to a farm they had among the mountains, where they had an abundance of sheep, horses, cattle, flour, and other necessaries. In that secure and pleasant retreat they could take a spell until the excitement had passed.

When it was about ten o'clock on the Saturday night, Brady announced to his friends his resolution to attack Sorell Gaol, and liberate some acquaintances. The two Bethunes were tied, as well as the other inmates, and the whole, eighteen in number, were marched in solemn and silent procession towards the town. Most opportunely for the eight Bushrangers, they arrived at a moment when least expected, and when, in fact, a party of soldiers within were cleaning out their guns. The military, under the command of Lieutenant Gunn, had been out all day looking for the very men who had thus civilly placed themselves in gaol--to make them prisoners. The arms were secured, and the warriors and civilians securely locked up in a cell from which the prisoners had just been released.

Mr. Long, the gaoler, was in his house adjoining the lock-up; and directly he saw how things stood, he made his escape over the wall, and ran off for Lieutenant Gunn, who was then staying with Dr. Garrett. Catching up their double-barrelled guns, they made for the town. The magistrate hurried too much, and fell into the hands of the Bushrangers, who broke his gun, and placed him with the others in the cell. Two of the robbers stood in the path of Mr. Gunn. He raised his fowling piece, but at that instant a shot shattered his arm above his elbow. When the rascals left the scene of their triumph, they placed against the door of the gaol a log ornamented with a coat and hat, to resemble a sentinel. The enterprizing and brave Gunn was brought to town, and suffered amputation of his arm. The Government rewarded his zeal with a pension of £70 a year, and the honourable post of Superintendent of the Hobart Town Prisoners' Barracks.

From James Bonwicks's The bushrangers: illustrating the early days of Van Diemen's Land , the original edition of which is actually available on Google Books

Not having written anything on the topic all last year! and at the request of

gillpolack, I'm doing a post on Matthew Brady, VDL bushranger.

Once I work out where to start.

( Read more... )

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