My Lord Dunn: A Tragicomedy

By Michaela Ann Cameron

Legend has it that Old Parramatta’s tragi-comedic hero John Dunn began his life in the colony of New South Wales with a wisecrack…

After 165 days at sea, the Fortune arrived at Port Jackson on 12 July 1806 with a cargo of 260 male convicts. As usual, the prisoners were mustered on arrival; a task that was carried out on this occasion by Captain Anthony Fenn Kemp of the NSW Corps. Whilst taking the muster, Captain Kemp took one incredulous look at John Dunn and asked him the crime for which he had been transported. “None at all, your Honor,” replied Dunn, “they sent me out here because I would not list for a sodyer” [soldier]. Whatever else Dunn lacked he amply made up for with a keen sense of humour; the reluctant “sodyer” was “scarcely three feet in height,” and “very deformed.”[1]

Dunn’s encounter with Captain Kemp was just one of “numerous anecdotes” featuring the “diminutive cripple” that became the stuff of local legend in Parramatta.[2] And, in the absence of his trial record at the Leicester Assizes, Leicestershire, England on 18 March 1803[3] or even brief mention of his transportable crime elsewhere, this humorous, well-known, oft-repeated and, therefore, likely elaborated upon tale must stand in place of those concrete facts. What is certain is that, as his legend grew, the vertically-challenged ex-con fashioned a larger-than-life persona for himself by insisting, with a mischievous glint in his eye no doubt, that he be grandiosely called “My Lord Dunn” by all and sundry — including his own wife.[4]

“Mrs. My Lord Dunn” was one Mary Webster, a native of Derbyshire; a part of England that was not far from Leicester, where Dunn himself had been convicted.[5] Webster had appeared at the Old Bailey as “Mary Weston” on 16 April 1806, aged 22, “for feloniously stealing…two silver watches…a gold watch,…two silver teapots…, five silver table spoons,…four silver tea spoons…, eight handkerchiefs,…and one shawl,”[6] with an accomplice named Elizabeth Clark. It is likely Mary was incarcerated in the notorious Newgate prison before being transported for seven years along with 112 other female and four male convicts on the Sydney Cove, which arrived in the colony on 18 June 1807.[7] A mere five months after Mary’s arrival, she was standing before Reverend Henry Fulton at St. John’s Church, Parramatta, marrying My Lord Dunn with Richard Partridge, “The Left-Handed Flogger,”[8] and an Irish female convict named Anstice “Ann” Shanley to bear witness.[9]

Perhaps it was The Left-Handed Flogger who “chaired” My Lord Dunn “through the town” post-nuptials, “and presented [him] at Government House,” where “10 gallons of beer were given to make good cheer on the occasion.”[10] What the bride was doing during these celebratory shenanigans, the Parramattans of old neglected to say, which suggests his Lordship thoroughly upstaged his bride on her own wedding day. It was neither the only nor the final time Lord Dunn stole the show.

Old Government House Parramatta

Old Government House, Parramatta, as built by Governor Hunter in 1799. This is a photo of an historical image displayed on signage in Parramatta Park, taken by Michaela Ann Cameron (2014)

His Excellency and His Lordship

The Market Place at Parramatta (present-day Centenary Square) on Tuesday 10 January 1832 was another stage upon which our tragi-comedic player strutted magnificently. The particular scene Lord Dunn was set to steal was the Governor’s eighteenth annual “conference with the natives,” also known as the Parramatta Feast Day.

“287 native blacks, men, women, and children”[11] from local Aboriginal tribes had assembled in the Market Place near St. John’s Cathedral, awaiting the arrival of Governor Bourke. “Tables were spread out, capable of accommodating the whole of the sable assembly, covered with a white table-cloth, and surrounded by seats of every description,”[12] in readiness for the sumptuous meal traditionally served at the event. When the clock struck twelve the festivities commenced; “a profusion of…roast beef, bread, and potatoes,… plum pudding…together with…copious draughts from the grog bucket…surmounted the festive board…”[13]

As the ultimate aim of the “friendly meeting of all the Natives”[14] was to entice Parramatta’s local “sable brethren”[15] to become “civilised,”[16] “His Excellency” took the opportunity to “converse…freely with the Chiefs, and expressed a desire to ascertain, if huts were erected for families, they might not be induced to domesticate, and abandon their present wandering habits.”[17] For the same reason, the Governor “furnished…each adult [aboriginal] guest” with various “gifts” requisite to civilised European lifeways; cutlery, plates, a tin goblet, “strong blue jackets and trowsers, together with some tobacco,…blankets and handkerchiefs…The whole festival concluded with three cheers for Governor Bourke [and]…a flourish of waddies and indiscriminate shrindy.”[18]

A veritable who’s who of the colonial elite had also attended and the journalist who later covered the event for The Sydney Gazette dutifully noted them; names like Macarthur, Hassall, Therry, Blaxland etc.[19] But these gentlemen were only given the briefest mention; My Lord Dunn was given an entire paragraph. Lord Dunn, no doubt oblivious to the feast’s true raison d’être, had felt equally entitled to a little gift from the Governor on this annual day of free handouts and was audacious enough to ask “His Excellency” to be forthcoming in that respect:

03

“The Governor’s Annual Conference with the Natives,” Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser (NSW: 1803-1842) Thursday 12 January 1832, p.2

A Tragic End to My Lord’s “Hour Upon the Stage”

Since the 1820s at least, My Lord Dunn lived with his wife in a hut, likely located on Sorrell Street near Grose Street, north of the Parramatta River.[20] In the late 1820s, his occupation was recorded as “oysterman.”[21] By the 1830s, though, Lord Dunn was “a very decrepid old man” in his seventies; in fact, his disabilities in combination with his advancing years made him “so decrepid as to be unable to move from one part of his dwelling to another without the aid of a crutch.”[22] This state of reduced mobility may have prompted his Lordship to opt out of the oyster trade and become the master of a “disorderly house,” but it seems more than likely he was enough of a rogue to have been in the “disorderly” business all along.

“Disorderly house” was a legal term that encompassed any residential place in which people engaged in a range of unlawful behaviours including prostitution, illegal gambling, or trading illicit substances, but it was, most commonly, used as a euphemism for a brothel. In 1836, Lord Dunn’s 52-year-old wife Mary finally had a moment of her own to take centre stage when she was put on trial for stealing a keg of rum,[23] which may suggest that the Dunns’ disorderly hut was an unlicensed drinking den.[24] On the other hand,

the description of the Lord’s house as a place “where the most abandoned of both sexes were in the habit of assembling,”[25] strongly indicates that the outlandish and vastly popular My Lord Dunn was, to put it indelicately, a pimp.

Brothel or no brothel, a variety of unlawfully good times were likely had by many in that humble abode. However there came a time, the 29th of August 1838 to be precise, when “drunken people”[26] were not tolerated in his Lordship’s house of ill-repute at all.

Enter William Price: a drunkard.

Price was “an aged man” himself “apparently about seventy years of age.”[27] He was 5ft 3 ½ inches and “stout” with grey eyes and grey hair that had once been brown. Originally a weaver from Manchester, he had been a convict transported per the John Barry in 1819. On his right arm was the tattoo of an anchor and “several letters not legible.” “W.P.” was tattooed betwixt [his] thumb and fingers” while his left arm displayed the initials “W.D. H.D.” and what might have been love hearts.[28] Roughly eighteen months earlier, in February 1837, Price had been arrested for larceny[29] but by August 1838 “a man…at the South Creek” had, quite injudiciously, deemed this shady character a suitable candidate for the role of “butler.”[30]

On the afternoon of August 29, Price was in Walker’s public house on Church Street, Parramatta. Also at Walker’s partaking of a glass of rum at the time was one of My Lord Dunn’s female “lodgers,” Margaret Creeke. That afternoon in the pub was the first time Creeke had ever met Price, but when Creeke left the establishment “between four and five o’clock,” Price followed her, “not many yards behind” along Church Street, up Grose Street and all the way to Lord Dunn’s hut on Sorrell Street. Creeke would later testify that once she had reached her residence (that is, Lord Dunn’s hut), Price “came up to the fence and asked…for a light of his pipe…[then] came into [Lord Dunn’s] house, and sat down by the fire…”[31] Another witness named Mary Campbell, however, said that “about 20 yards from the house,” Creeke herself said to Price, “I am now home, you can come in.”[32] However it came to pass, Price was soon sitting with My Lord Dunn who was quietly smoking his pipe in front of his own warm fire on that cold August afternoon.

Lord Dunn and Price “conversed friendly together; whilst they were talking, a woman named Dangar came…to the door.”[33] Price reportedly said to Dangar, “Don’t you know My Lord,” and asked “for a smoke of Lord Dunn’s pipe.” His Lordship refused, stating, “I don’t want any drunken people here, and I want you to go about your business.”[34] When this was said, Price replied by calling Lord Dunn names that one polite Sydney Monitor journalist would later find too scandalous to print.[35] Price followed up his splenetic tirade with,

“you ought to be killed long ago, and I will come and kill you tonight.”[36]

Despite these murderous threats towards the little Lord, or maybe because of them, Creeke decided this was an apt moment to go “to a neighbour’s well for a kettle of water”[37]— perhaps she thought everyone just needed a nice hot cup of tea. Dangar also departed to carry on a conversation with Mrs. Campbell who lived “almost opposite Lord Dunn,” leaving the door “wide open” and his Lordship quite alone with the enraged, hard-done-by drunk.[38]

Bridget O’Connor, an Irish colleen assigned to Mr. J. Jones in a house “just opposite” to Lord Dunn’s, noted that the women “had not left [the hut] long,”[39] when Price pulled the shutters to and closed the door. As little as two or three minutes had passed before Mrs. Campbell “heard the sound of heavy blows,” and Dangar and O’Connor heard Lord Dunn cry out “Oh my, Oh my…murder!”[40]

Mrs. Dangar, a woman with an “Amazonian and resolute os frontis [forehead], most ominously ensabled by a pair of black eyes — proof positive of her belligerent propensities,”[41] seized this moment to show off her belligerent “prowess” [42] in all its glory.

Parramatta - Inhuman Murder - My Lord Dunn

Parramatta. Inhuman Murder,” The Sydney Monitor, Monday 3 September 1838, p.2

On hearing his Lordship’s cry, Dangar ran to his aid. Finding the door shut fast, she pushed upon it. Realising Price was “standing against it to oppose [her] getting in,”[43] the Amazon endeavoured to forcibly enter the hut by putting her shoulder to the door, prompting Price to yell,

“You vagabond, if you don’t go away I will cut your head off.”

At this, Dangar did retreat “as far as the paling, but observing [Price] about to make his escape”[44] the heroic Dangar, with some help from O’Connor, “laid hold of him and secured him…notwithstanding his furious attack upon her person,”[45] until the constables arrived to relieve Dangar of her charge.[46] By then, Creeke had returned from the well.

The constables and the women found [his Lordship] lying senseless on the floor…on his face and hands,…covered in blood…bleeding profusely from a wound on his head and from his side.”[47] Also on the floor nearby was an axe.

When My Lord Dunn “was put upon his bed…” he was so badly injured “he could not speak.” As the women washed the blood off his face, Dr. Newton passed by and said, “[My Lord Dunn] was dying, and that surgical assistance would be of no avail.”[48]

“Out, out brief candle!” Within half an hour of the attack, our comedic hero was “heard no more.”[49]

Justice for the Lord

Surgeon Bute Stuart examined My Lord Dunn’s remains and deposed,

“I…discovered a severe wound above and behind the left ear, which appeared to have been inflicted by a blunt instrument, the effect of which produced a rupture of some of the blood vessels in the brains, and was the cause of death; on the body I discovered an incised wound between the 9th and 10th ribs, on [the] left side, which had penetrated the lungs, and which was inflicted by a sharp instrument; on looking round the deceased’s apartments I found a knife on the mantle piece, with which the injury was inflicted as it had blood on it. The wound on the head was, in my opinion, inflicted by the deceased’s crutch, which is broken and was found close to his body.”[50]

1838-11-13 - Bridget Connor

The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser (NSW: 1803-1842) Tuesday 13 November 1838, p.2

The furious and sudden attack that violently snuffed out Lord Dunn’s life was meaningless in the end. At the coronial inquest, “the prisoner…said nothing in his defence and questioned none of the witnesses…[N]o other reason c[ould] be assigned for his perpetrating such an atrocious deed but the refusal of the deceased to let him smoke his pipe.”[51]

William Price was put on trial in November for the “wilful murder” of My Lord Dunn. The trial was delayed for an hour, however, by witness Bridget O’Connor who thought she could keep the Supreme Court waiting while she went away “to take tea with a friend.”[52] Never one to have been overawed by members of the social hierarchy’s upper echelon himself, My Lord Dunn probably would have approved of O’Connor’s untimely tea party. As punishment for her characteristic “insolence,”[53] though, O’Connor “was sent to the watch-house” after giving her evidence “and on Monday sentenced to be worked two months”[54] in that particular institution for insolent and disorderly women that appears to have been a second home to her: the Parramatta Female Factory.

Execution of My Lord Dunn's Killer

Execution,” The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser, Saturday 22 December 1838, p.2

During the trial the accused killer stated that he had been “very drunk, and was inveigled into the house by the woman that attended upon Dunn; but he denied all knowledge of, or participation in, the murder.”[55] Nevertheless, it took the jury only five minutes to reach a guilty verdict. “His Honor immediately passed sentence of death upon the prisoner, and told him there was not the slightest hope of mercy.”[56]

On Friday 21 December 1838, the usual preparations were made and “at the usual hour” the usual crowd gathered behind the gaol to witness the spectacle of a public execution. Less usual, was the demeanour of the dead man walking when he arrived at the foot of the gallows and the warrant for his execution was read to him. “On hearing this intelligence,” a journalist noted the following day, Lord Dunn’s killer, William Price, “evinced but little feeling, and was led out of the yard….[H]e exhibited the greatest callousness and unconcern for his fate. The exhortations of the clergymen” Reverend Messrs. Cowper and Watkins who had attended him, “seemed to have very little weight with him, and his behaviour on ascending the steps, it was remarked by persons whose attendance at executions has been frequent,” was like nothing they had witnessed before.[57]

“When the rope was being put round his neck he, for the first time, expressed some concern, but it was on account that” another man due to be executed for murder “had not yet arrived on the scaffold.”[58] The executioner quieted him, assuring Price “that he would soon be there. The cap was then drawn over his face, and his last exclamation was on account of his fears that it would smother him. After the executioner left the scaffold, [Price] made repeated attempts, by raising one of his arms, to remove the cap, and while so employed the drop fell and put a period to his existence.”[59]

The Last Laugh

My Lord Dunn had one last laugh. Ten years or more before he met his tragic end, recognising that he was already elderly and that his physical singularity gave his body monetary value as a medical curiosity, his Lordship sold his future mortal remains to Dr. Brooks of Parramatta, “for the purpose of dissection.”[60] Five days after Dunn’s murder, however, a Sydney Monitor journalist reported, “the Doctor will lose the benefit of [this long-term investment], as [My Lord Dunn] is now buried”[61] in the parish of St. John’s.

 CITE THIS

Michaela Ann Cameron, “My Lord Dunn: A Tragicomedy,” St. John’s Cemetery Project(2016), https://stjohnscemeteryparramatta.org/bio/john-dunn/, accessed [insert current date]

References

Michaela Ann Cameron, “Parramatta Female Factory,” Dictionary of Sydney, (2015) http://dictionaryofsydney.org/entry/parramatta_female_factory, accessed 19 April 2016

Helen Rogers, Conviction: stories from a nineteenth-century prisonhttp://convictionblog.com/ accessed 24 March 2016

Old Bailey Proceedings Online (www.oldbaileyonline.org, version 7.2)

Trove

Notes

[1] “Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2; New South Wales Government. 1828 Census: Householders’ returns [Population and Statistics, Musters and Census Records, Census, Colonial Secretary], Series 1273, Reels 2551-2552, 2506-2507, State Records Authority of New South Wales, Kingswood, New South Wales, Australia.

[2]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2

[3] Lesley Uebel & Hawkesbury on the Net, Claim a Convict, John Dunn, Fortune I (1806) accessed 13 March 2016

[4] Indeed, “My Lord Dunn” was officially recorded as the name of Mary Webster’s husband on the 1819 Population Muster; New South Wales Government, Secretary to the Governor. Population musters, New South Wales mainland [1811–1819], NRS 1260 [4/1224–25, 4/1227], State Records Authority of New South Wales, Kingswood, New South Wales, Australia.

[5] Parish Marriage Registers, Textual records, St. John’s Anglican Church Parramatta, New South Wales, Australia; 1828 Census: Householders’ returns [Population and Statistics, Musters and Census Records, Census, Colonial Secretary], Series 1273, Reels 2551-2552, 2506-2507, State Records Authority of New South Wales, Kingswood, New South Wales, Australia; New South Wales Government. Secretary to the Governor. Population musters, New South Wales mainland [1811–1819]. NRS 1260 [4/1224–25, 4/1227]. State Records Authority of New South Wales, Kingswood, New South Wales, Australia

[6] Old Bailey Proceedings Online (www.oldbaileyonline.org, version 7.2, 16 March 2016), April 1806, trial of ELIZABETH CLARK MARY WESTON MARY WILTS (t18060416-64) accessed 14 March 2016

[7] 1828 Census: Householders’ returns [Population and Statistics, Musters and Census Records, Census, Colonial Secretary], Series 1273, Reels 2551-2552, 2506-2507, State Records Authority of New South Wales, Kingswood, New South Wales, Australia; New South Wales Government, Secretary to the Governor, Population musters, New South Wales mainland [1811–1819], NRS 1260 [4/1224–25, 4/1227], State Records Authority of New South Wales, Kingswood, New South Wales, Australia

[8] Richard Partridge, alias Richard Rice, Parish Marriage Registers, Textual records, St. John’s Anglican Church Parramatta, New South Wales, Australia; 1828 Census: Householders’ returns [Population and Statistics, Musters and Census Records, Census, Colonial Secretary], Series 1273, Reels 2551-2552, 2506-2507, State Records Authority of New South Wales, Kingswood, New South Wales, Australia

[9] The wedding took place on 2 November 1807; Parish Marriage Registers, Textual records, St. John’s Anglican Church Parramatta, New South Wales, Australia.

[10]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2 accessed 14 March 2016

[11]The Governor’s Annual Conference with the Natives,” Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser (NSW: 1803-1842) Thursday 12 January 1832, p.2

[12]The Governor’s Annual Conference with the Natives,” Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser (NSW: 1803-1842) Thursday 12 January 1832, p.2, access 14 March 2016

[13]The Governor’s Annual Conference with the Natives,” Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser (NSW: 1803-1842) Thursday 12 January 1832, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016; “Conference with the Black Natives,” The Australian (Sydney, NSW: 1824-1848), Friday 13 January 1832, p.3, accessed 15 March 2016

[14]Proclamation,” The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser (NSW: 1803-1842), Saturday 4 May 1816, p.1 accessed 14 March 2016

[15]Domestic Intelligence: THE ABORIGINES,Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Saturday 14 January 1832 p.2

[16] That is, in accordance with the European definition of civility. Heidi Norman, “Parramatta and Black Town Native Institutions,” Dictionary of Sydney, accessed 14 March 2016

[17]The Governor’s Annual Conference with the Natives,” Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser (NSW: 1803-1842) Thursday 12 January 1832, p.2

[18]Conference with the Black Natives,The Australian (Sydney, NSW: 1824-1848), Friday 13 January 1832, p.3

[19]The Governor’s Annual Conference with the Natives,” Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser (NSW: 1803-1842) Thursday 12 January 1832, p.2

[20] This location has been deduced from a number of sources. Someone by the name of “John Dunn” was granted land on Sorrell Street in 1823. Sorrell Street is right near the other streets mentioned in the “Inhuman Murder” article (e.g. Grose and Church streets) and the proximity that was implied as the journalists reported the events also increases the likelihood that this John Dunn and “My Lord Dunn” are one in the same.  Registers of Land Grants and Leases, Microfilm Publication 2560–2561, 2846, 2548–2550, 2700–2702, 2704–2705, 11 rolls, Record Group NRS 13836. New South Wales, Australia.

[21] 1828 Census: Householders’ returns [Population and Statistics, Musters and Census Records, Census, Colonial Secretary], Series 1273, Reels 2551-2552, 2506-2507, State Records Authority of New South Wales, Kingswood, New South Wales, Australia.

[22]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2 accessed 14 March 2016

[23]Parramatta Quarter Sessions. Wednesday, June 1, 1836,The Sydney Herald (NSW: 1831 – 1842), Monday 6 June 1836 p.3; Ancestry.com, New South Wales, Australia, Gaol Description and Entrance Books, 1818-1930 [database online], (Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations Inc., 2012). Mary was in and out of prison long after the death of My Lord Dunn and well into her 60s. She was typically arrested for drunkenness and vagrancy.

[24] Mary Dunn was found “not guilty” and discharged but her co-accused, John Ross and Sarah Bird were found guilty. Ross was sentenced to work in irons for three years and Bird was sentenced to transportation for three years. “Parramatta Quarter Sessions. Wednesday, June 1, 1836,The Sydney Herald (NSW: 1831 – 1842), Monday 6 June 1836 p.3; Ancestry.com, New South Wales, Australia, Gaol Description and Entrance Books, 1818-1930 [database online], (Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations Inc., 2012).

[25]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016

[26]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016

[27]Execution,” The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser (NSW: 1803 – 1842), Saturday 22 December 1838 p.2

[28] Ancestry.com. New South Wales, Australia, Gaol Description and Entrance Books, 1818-1930 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2012. For a discussion of the practice of  tattooing in an English gaol, see Helen Rogers, “Tattooing in Gaol,” Conviction: stories from a nineteenth-century prison, (15 November 2015) http://convictionblog.com/2013/11/15/tattooing-in-gaol/ accessed 24 March 2016

[29] Ancestry.com. New South Wales, Australia, Gaol Description and Entrance Books, 1818-1930 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2012.

[30]Murder at Parramatta,” The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser (NSW: 1803-1842) Saturday 1 September 1838, p.2

[31]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016

[32]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016

[33]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016

[34]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016

[35]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016

[36]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016

[37]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016

[38]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016

[39]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016

[40]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016

[41] “News from the Interior: Lower Hawkesbury,” The Sydney Herald, (NSW: 1831-1842) Wednesday 24 November 1841, p.2

[42]News from the Interior: Lower Hawkesbury,” The Sydney Herald, (NSW: 1831-1842) Wednesday 24 November 1841, p.2

[43]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016

[44]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016

[45]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016; “News from the Interior: Lower Hawkesbury,” The Sydney Herald, (NSW: 1831-1842) Wednesday 24 November 1841, p.2

[46]News from the Interior: Lower Hawkesbury,” The Sydney Herald, (NSW: 1831-1842) Wednesday 24 November 1841, p.2

[47]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016

[48]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016

[49] William Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act V Scene V “Out, out, brief candle! / Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player / That struts and frets his hour upon the stage / And then is heard no more: it is a tale / Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, / Signifying nothing.” “Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016

[50]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016; New South Wales Government. Registers of Coroners’ Inquests and Magisterial Inquiries, 1834–1942 (microfilm, NRS 343, rolls 2921–2925, 2225, 2763–2769), State Records Authority of New South Wales, Kingswood, New South Wales, Australia.

[51]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016

[52]Domestic Intelligence: Non-Attendance of Witnesses,” The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser (NSW: 1803 – 1842) Tuesday 13 November 1838 p.2

[53] If it is, indeed, the same “Bridget O’Connor / Connor / Connors” who appeared in in all of the following “police incidents” in newspapers in the 1830s and 40s for a variety of offences including insolence, vagrancy, indecent exposure, and prostitution, then it is reasonable to state that “insolence” was one of her characteristic behaviours. See “Police Report: Bridget Connor,The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser (NSW: 1803-1842) Tuesday 23 October 1832, p.3; “Police Incidents: Bridget Connor,The Sydney Herald (NSW: 1831-1842) Thursday 5 June 1834, p.2; “Police Court. Friday, January 1. DRUNKARDS: Bridget Connors,The Sydney Monitor and Commercial Advertiser (NSW: 1838-1841) Monday 4 January 1841, p.2.

[54]Domestic Intelligence: Non-Attendance of Witnesses,” The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser (NSW: 1803 – 1842) Tuesday 13 November 1838 p.2

[55]Law Intelligence. Supreme Court – Criminal Side: William Price,” The Sydney Herald (NSW: 1831-1842) Monday 12 November 1838, p.2

[56]Law Intelligence. Supreme Court – Criminal Side: William Price,The Sydney Herald (NSW: 1831-1842) Monday 12 November 1838, p.2

[57]Execution,” The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser (NSW: 1803 – 1842), Saturday 22 December 1838 p.2

[58]Execution,” The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser (NSW: 1803 – 1842), Saturday 22 December 1838 p.2

[59]Execution,” The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser (NSW: 1803 – 1842), Saturday 22 December 1838 p.2

[60]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016

[61]Parramatta: INHUMAN MURDER,” The Sydney Monitor (NSW: 1828-1838), Monday 3 Sep 1838, p.2, accessed 14 March 2016; Parish Burial Registers, Textual records, St. John’s Anglican Church Parramatta, New South Wales, Australia. The location of his grave is unknown as he was buried in an unmarked “pauper’s” grave.

© Copyright 2016 Michaela Ann Cameron