Remembering the Past Australia

THE JEW-BOY'S GANG.

One of the more notorious of the bushrangers of the forties was a convict Jew named Davis, who made his escape from an ironed gang working near Sydney, and "took the bush", being soon joined by a desperate character named Ruggy, an Irishman, and two other runaway prisoners. Shortly after the gang commenced operations in the Brisbane Water and Hunter River Districts, three recruits joined, the latest addition being a youth of weak intellect, who had been led away by Davis' florid descriptions of the freedom and pleasures of a bandit's life.

The members of the gang were well mounted and well armed with double-barrelled guns and pistols, and supplied with packhorses to carry "swag". Conscious of their strength and their ability to get away quickly from any pursuers with whom a fight was not desirable, they pursued their nefarious occupation with the utmost boldness and openness. For a long time they eluded the vigilance of the local mounted police, who certainly were not wanting in energy when fairly "on the hunt". When advised that the troopers were out, they confined themselves to the deep bush ravines, where dense forests and beetling rocks afforded shelter and concealment. Here they would stay until the police grew weary, when they would again sally forth.

The gang committed so many depredations in twelve or fifteen months that the Government began to realise that some special effort was needed to capture them. Hence they despatched a strong body of mounted police under the command of a subaltern from Sydney to the Brisbane Water district, with orders to take the Jew-boy and his companions either alive or dead. But even the force from Sydney could not effect a capture, although they pressed the gang closely and forced them to make back to the Hunter River district. On the day of their arrival they looted a store at Muswellbrook, and then went on to Scone, putting up at Wilkie's Inn and ordering "dinner for seven, and be sharp about it." After dinner they ransacked the one local store, adorning themselves with the gayest ribbons they could find before leaving the place.

Up to this time they had not shed blood, as Davis insisted that his companions should preserve clean hands in this respect, and only resort to violence for the preservation of their own lives and liberty. But now they added murder to their other crimes, and closed the door against hope of escape from death themselves. As they were leaving the store, one of the employees, a recent arrival from England, with more courage than prudence seized a pistol and fired at one of them. The shot did not take effect, and the rash man threw his pistol down and rushed towards the police station to give the alarm. His race was a short one. Ruggy leapt upon his horse and pursued him, shooting him through the back as he ran, and the young fellow fell dead in his tracks.

This tragedy enacted, Davis and his six companions fled precipitately, for they knew the murder would raise the country against them. They made for the densely wooded Liverpool Range, stopping for a while on the way at Atkinson's Inn, on the Dage River, where they bailed up all the inmates and indulged in a hearty meal of beef and beer. They declined the stronger drink that was offered them by the landlord, declaring that rum could only be taken with safety when they were in camp. Before resuming their flight they rounded up all the good horses and made an exchange, leaving their weary steeds in place of the fresher animals; then they headed for Doughboy Hollow, one of their old bush rendezvous, where they calculated on passing the night safely.

But Nemesis was already following close upon their heels. A small party (three or four civilians and a couple of Border Police) headed by Mr. Day, police magistrate, who had formerly served as lieutenant in the 17th Regiment, were soon in full chase. Their first place of call was Scone; there the sight of the body of the murdered man inspired them with fresh resolution, and they pushed on with vigour, easily following the freshly-made tracks. Several residents joined in the chase, and when the pursuers reached Atkinson's Inn they formed quite a large party.

The sun was just sinking when, never having lost the track of the bushrangers in a ride of fifty miles, Mr. Day and his party came in sight of Doughboy Hollow. The spot was a favourite camping ground for teams, and a cursory glance was sufficient to show the pursuers that the men they wanted had joined some teamsters at their evening meal. The bushrangers were seated round a log fire, a couple of them being engaged in casting bullets for future use, while their horses were tethered some distance away. Quickly dismounting, Mr. Day and several of his men made a rush to seize the gang before they could recover from their surprise; but Day incautiously raised a cheer as he ran, and at once the bushrangers seized their guns and rushed to cover behind the nearest trees. A brisk fusillade commenced. The Jew fired twice at Day, and Ruggy at one of his companions; but fright had made their hands unsteady, and the bullets did not take effect. Day returned the fire and wounded Davis in the shoulder; then he rushed at him, wishing to take him alive, and after a short struggle succeeded in overpowering him. Ruggy was also seized when he had exhausted his fire, and four others of the gang threw down their arms and surrendered. The seventh man escaped, but was subsequently captured. Altogether about twenty shots were fired, but no one on either side was killed.

Shortly after their capture the Jew-boy and his mates were removed in irons to Sydney, where they were tried, convicted and condemned. Up to the last moment Davis hugged the belief that his life would be spared, on account of his having prevented the shedding of blood whenever he was able to control his followers. Strong efforts were made by powerful friends of his own persuasion to save him, but they were unavailing; and together the leader and his followers expiated their crimes on the gallows in Sydney in February, 1841.

THE ROBBER OF THE CAVES.

The reference to Hartley in the case of the mail robbery for which Day was convicted calls to mind the case of a bushranger named McKewin, a notorious scoundrel, who evaded capture for a very long time during the "thirties". For several years this desperado carried on his depredations in different parts of the Hartley and Fish River Districts, but although frequently tracked to the mountainous region, which was then unexplored, he always managed to disappear in a most mysterious manner. At last two mounted troopers accompanied by Mr. Charles Whalan managed to get upon a "hot scent", following up which they were enabled to solve the mystery. This was in 1841. It was concluded that McKewin's retreat must be in one of the deep gullies which in that part of the country abound, and the party determined to explore them thoroughly. After much labour his hut was discovered on a little flat in one of the most secluded mountain gorges: it was surrounded during the night, and the bushranger, on being challenged to surrender, came to the door in a woman's nightdress.

After capturing him the party made its way down the gully, and came suddenly in sight of a huge cavern in the hillside, whose mouth was nearly three hundred feet high. Passing into it (for it was the only outlet to the gully) they clambered over gigantic boulders to a tunnel-like passage at the other end, which led them to the banks of a creek which emerged from a similar cavern to their right. Thus were first discovered the great caves now known as the Devil's Coach House and Grand Arch.

For many years it was believed that McKewin had a secret hoard among the hills, and many a hunt there was after it: but all that ever was found was the remains of a rum keg. In a cave not very far from his hut there has since been found a set of bullock-bows, which the bushranger stole from one of Mr. Whalan's teams.

It is not necessary to give a detailed account of McKewin; suffice it to say he was captured, lodged in Hartley Gaol, afterward tried by a Sydney jury, and, subsequently, sentenced and transported to Norfolk Island, where he died. His companions were never found.

In those days this district was full of wild cattle. Parties used only to visit it for the purpose of beef hunting, and it was during some of their exploits that they came in contact with this wonderful limestone belt and its strange openings. The various parties returned and told queer and discredited stories of the district. At different times some of the more adventurous of them returned to the spot and made attempts at exploring. They could not penetrate far; the difficulties they met with were extreme; no roads, no help obtainable, and no house to rest in after their labours. Their discomforts were very great, and they wearied. Thus by slow degrees this marvellous locality gained its reputation. Very small interest was taken in the place, however, and little or nothing was done until Mr. Jeremiah Wilson and party came from Oberon and explored them, submitting to all kinds of hardships and privations in the process. Mr. Wilson was afterwards appointed keeper of the caves by the Government and chief guide.

Source:  The Bushrangers (1915, April 9). The Farmer and Settler (Sydney, NSW : 1906 - 1955), p. 8.