Monster in the Avon

Excitement was caused in Northam when it was reported that a strange creature had been seen on two or three successive nights in the Avon River, near the Central Bridge.

On 14 January 1929, The West Australian broke the story of the strange creature in the Avon River. While some swore that what they had seen was a small alligator resting on a sandbank, others stated that it was a shark. Most people however felt that both speculations were incorrect and that it was most likely just a large lizard. Whatever it was, Police found the claims to be serious enough that, at 1am in the morning, they attempted a search and, during the day, a Constable patrolled the bridge with a rifle. With no success, a more thorough investigation was organised to take place on 15 January.

Hundreds of people lined the riverbanks and the bridges and watched the Police carry out their search, all to no avail. Despite descriptions (said to be five feet long) and the occasional sighting, the monster eluded capture.

By the 16 January, the monster was still at large.

Great excitement prevails here and hundreds of townspeople lined the river banks again last night, some staying until the early hours of the morning. The animal was seen again about 11:30 p.m. by Inspector Johnson, who estimates its length to be about eight feet.

The story took hold and with no clear answer to the mystery, speculation began to dominate the news. Convinced that what they were searching for was a crocodile (often referred to as an alligator), The Daily News theorised that someone from the north must have left it on the riverbank when only a baby or when it was still an egg. The West Australian added further detail to this theory:


The search continued, people continually watched the river and a Policeman still patrolled the area with a rifle. While reports of the creature increased during the night, nothing was seen in daylight hours. Despite the summer heat, no one went swimming in the Avon.

Perth newspapers received daily reports from Northam which generally proffered no new information. On 18 January 1929, The West Australian touched upon the word ‘hoax’ but immediately discounted it due to the fact that the Inspector of Police had also seen the monster and was determined to capture it.


The Beverley Times (published weekly – Beverley is under an hour away from Northam) finally had their chance to publish the story on 18 January. Unlike the metropolitan newspapers, they went into greater detail stating that the monster was first seen by Mrs Whitworth, some youths, young men who had attended the band concert and, finally, Inspector Johnston (Inspector of Police).


Despite the many eyewitnesses, the creature remained at loose in the Avon River. The Inspector generally advised against using rifles however when a report was received stating that the creature was visible, a Constable was immediately sent to the area.

A constable was despatched to the seen [sic] and after firing two shots at the alleged alligator, the second of which found its mark, it was discovered to be a piece of timber.


The Police remained convinced that something was in the river and even though it had not been identified, the search continued.

An investigator from the Mirror eventually made their way to Northam and the story (in true Mirror fashion) was printed in a rather sensationalist manner.


Apart from critising their contemporaries, much of what was printed was similar to what had already been told. They did however make an interesting statement with respect to “wide and varying” tales.

Since then almost everybody in Northam seems to have had a peep and the dimensions of the freak now range from five to thirty-five feet in length. Sometimes it is equipped with a crocodile’s head, sometimes it is like a shark, and sometimes it has a horrible snout like a pig…

Then the Truth got hold of the story and immediately rubbished the claims of a monster in the Avon. They stated that its existence and the furore following it was reminiscent of similar stories from around the country where no clear evidence of the monster could be found.

That there can be no doubt about the existence of the monster is indicated by the fact that its habits appear to be identical with all the other monsters which have ever appeared – it keeps out of sight during the day and appears at night, just like bogies and Bunyips.

Further mocking the sightings, they ran with the needling headline, “Populace Keeps Anxious Night Watch For a Pink-Striped Spnorter“. They were also the only paper to print an image of the monster albeit fictional.


The Sunday Times soon followed with poems; a short one which referred to various people who had lived in Northam throughout the years (below left) and a much longer one which speculated and questioned but often ended with the words, “Northam only knows!Poem

By 25 January 1929 (just over ten days since the monster was first reported) The Beverley Times ran an article stating that it still had not been captured. The people of Northam continued to line the riverbanks but it was noted that the original excitement had died down and that children were once again swimming in the river.

No longer of the opinion that the monster was a crocodile, Inspector Johnston had come to believe it was probably a large fish. This was further fuelled by the words of Mr Jessup who stated that Murray Cod (known to grow to quite a large size) had been released in the river in about 1914.

By the end of January the search may have continued but with no new sightings or information, the story of the monster in the Avon River at Northam fizzled out of the news. When it did appear, it was often in the form of a mocking joke with the newspaper, Truth, revelling in the chance to continue to make fun of the story.


Presumably, with no success and nothing more to go on, the Police search would have also eventually come to an end. Having eluded capture, the monster and what it was exactly, remained a mystery.

Police & Monster

If you can add any more detail to the story of the monster of the Avon River, please feel free to leave a comment below.


‘Jonas’ and the Whale

Yankee Whaling

While today (in most parts of the world) whaling is thankfully banned, in the past, whaling was an occupation that was carried out regularly. Whales were hunted to extremes for their blubber, oil and bones. Western Australia was no exception with whaling being an early industry in the colony. Early accounts indicate great excitement at whales being killed and reports were regularly printed in the papers. On 2 September 1843, the Perth Gazette and Western Australian Journal printed an article recounting the news for the whaling industry for the previous fortnight. They then went on to describe “a curious scene” in Fremantle.

Numerous whales had been attacked by the whalers however it was reported that one of them had been harpooned and then managed to pull away, dragging the boat and its occupants with it. Near Straggler Rocks it began to dive and the whalers in the boat had no choice than to cut the rope attached to the harpoon.

Thinking that they had lost the whale, the whalers returned to shore. A few days later news soon spread that the whale had in fact died from its wounds and had been found washed up on North Beach, located a few miles from Fremantle. The whalers gathered what they needed and headed straight to the beach, hoping to recover as much of the whale as possible.

Meanwhile, news also reached Perth of the whale on the beach. The fascination at seeing a whale close up was too much for some and as it was only an hour’s ride from Perth to the Fremantle area, many people took off on their horses to catch a glimpse of it. One amongst the group was a young man, suitably nicknamed ‘Jonas’ by the paper, perhaps in a bid to protect his identity.

‘Jonas’ arrived and noticing that the first spade was about to be dug in, decided to seize the opportunity of being first for himself. He jumped on top of the whale and dug in his spade, only to be met with an almighty explosion! There was nowhere else for ‘Jonas’ to go but down into the rotting belly of the whale.

Initially everyone laughed at his predicament but seeing as though ‘Jonas’ was struggling, they quickly went about undertaking the difficult task of rescuing him from inside the whale. ‘Jonas’ was safely returned to land unhurt but left in a rather putrid state.


The Dude

True to form, it was while digging around on Trove trying to find something interesting to post for Valentine’s Day (yes, this post has been sitting in draft form for quite a while) that I came across a reference of ladies admiring dudes.

Initially, I laughed. I thought about the word ‘dude’ and the context in which I knew it existed. It’s been around throughout my lifetime and has been spoken by characters such as Bart Simpson. To say hello to someone, you might say, “Hey, dude!” While referring to someone, you might call them a ‘cool dude’. I again thought back to the article and giggled some more. The word in my head was most likely completely at odds to the meaning portrayed in 1885. Ladies of the very proper Victorian era admiring ‘dudes’. Hilarious!

The word ‘dude’ has actually been around for a lot longer than I realised. Far from being a recent invention courtesy of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or The Simpsons, its origin began in the early 1800s and, according to Google’s Ngram Viewer, gained in popularity towards the end of the 19th Century before skyrocketing in the late 20th Century.


The above graph mirrors results on Trove with respect to its use in the late 19th Century. In particular, the increase occurred during the 1880s and continued throughout the 1890s. This post will explore the word ‘dude’ during this time period.

 In the Victorian era, a dude was described as…

…a vulgarly-dressed man who tries to dress well and be a gentleman, but can’t; a person who carries himself in a loud manner, usually ambles along in an absurd manner, extending his arms in all sorts of shapes, like a person in livery. [Evening News]

The “Dude” as described by the social Buffon of New York is a man of about twenty-five. […] “His trousers are very tight,” so is his shirt-collar, which is “clerical in form.” His shoes are pointed. His cane has a silver handle. The “Dude” parts his hair in the middle… …the “Dude” also wears a “bang,” or fringe… He never laughs, and never displays any other emotions. [The Bega Gazette and Eden District or Southern Coast Advertiser]

They were further described as men who gave too much attention to their outward appearance as well as “naturally ridiculous” and “deficient in brains“.

If it wasn’t obvious from the above, the word ‘dude’ was not considered a term of endearment, it was an insult.

The Australian newspapers rarely reported on anything positive associated with the dude and while, at times, they offered the occasional in depth explanation as to what constituted a dude, more often than not, the dude was heavily caricatured and severely ridiculed.

Poetry, was clearly a favourite mode of expression.



One rather clever person even created an alphabet shape poem which illustrated in a cartoonish way what the dude was meant to resemble.


On occasion, articles attempting to humorously imitate the dude were printed in the papers. Written as if the dude was speaking and told in the form of a story or anecdote they provide additional information as to how a dude was supposed to sound like. It gives an indication of a speech impediment, with the letter ‘R’ in words always replaced with a ‘W’. They also had a habit of saying ‘aw’ while talking.

Aw – good evening. P’raps you don’t know me. My name’s – aw – Henwy Talbot Cholmondley Bwowne – Bwowne with an “e,” you know. My father’s a gweat swell, and – aw – do you know he thinks I’ve got bwains.

Generally, images without the associated jokes were rarely published. Where there was an illustration printed, it was done so at the expense of the dude.

A device for keeping cool.
Hand Relief
A device for resting a dude’s hands.
A dude with turned up trousers. Neither image looks out of place in today’s fashion.

It’s obvious that the definition of the word ‘dude’ has slowly changed and evolved since the Victorian era. Calling someone ‘dude’ today would definitely not be considered an insult, it’s become complimentary. In looking over these articles, poems and jokes and the derision in which people held the dude, I can’t help but be reminded of our contemporary equivalent: the hipster. While the descriptions of a hipster and a Victorian era dude differ slightly, I can however see similarities in how they were/are often made fun of. It’s interesting to see how the passage of time softens and changes a word and how it’s used. Who knows, perhaps in 100 years’ time the word hipster (like the word ‘dude’) will change and will take on a new meaning of its own.


Rocky Bay Joe

Looking upon the decade as a whole, we can see that many interesting events took place throughout the 1830s. William IV succeeded his brother to the throne of the United Kingdom in June 1830. The Slavery Abolition Act 1833 (abolishing slavery in the British Empire) was passed. Charles Darwin set off on a voyage of discovery in 1831 with the information collected later used in his book, ‘The Origin of the Species’. On the other side of the world, Western Australia (settled by Europeans in 1829) was still only a fledgling colony.

It was also in the early 1830s (approximately 1833) that Joseph Byron was born and, unlike the aforementioned events, his birth would have gone unnoticed except to those closest to him.

Attempts to establish the place of his birth have thus far been unsuccessful. While it is possible he was born in England, there is also the chance that he was born elsewhere.

Later evidence indicates that Joseph was lucky enough to receive an education. He was literate which gives rise to the assumption that he came from a family of means. Nevertheless, as he grew older, a career in the military called to him.

Again, details of his life in the military are sketchy. He served time in India and may have been part of the forces in Jhansi during the Indian Rebellion of 1857. By early 1864 and in his early thirties, he was certainly stationed in Jhansi as it was there that he was court-martialled.

In mid-1864 Joseph was brought to the General Court in Jhansi and was charged with insubordination. Insubordination within the military generally consists of an individual choosing to disobey a superior’s orders. Assaulting or treating a superior with disrespect are also acts of insubordination. No details as to what Joseph did are provided in the records at hand but it is likely that he committed a very serious act. On 8 July 1864 he was sentenced to ten years’ transportation and served time in Calcutta Barracks.

Four months later, on 3 December 1864, a warrant was issued by the Clerk of the Crown calling for his removal from India so that his sentence could be executed. From India, he was sent to England.


It is in this communication (printed in the Proceedings of the Government of India) that information concerning his military career are obtained. Joseph Byron, No. 246, was a Driver in B. Battery, 22nd Brigade Royal Artillery.

Having arrived in England by April 1865, Joseph bounced around from prison to prison during the next two years. On 7 April 1865, he was received at Millbank Prison in London; well-known for holding convict prisoners before their transportation to Australia.

Looking through the Millbank Prison register of arrivals, it’s interesting to see that Joseph most likely did not arrive alone. On the same date there were eleven other prisoners who were all sent from Calcutta Barracks in India to England. Many were found guilty of striking a superior officer or attempting to shoot a person. They were sentenced to four, five  or six years transportation. Joseph’s crime was listed simply as ‘disobedience’. He was one of two sentenced to ten years.

He remained in Millbank for two months before being sent on to Pentonville Prison in London, arriving on 19 June 1865. In the register, his trade was described as a bricklayer as well as a Private in the Royal Artillery. It was recorded that he was single, could read and write and was 26 years of age. This indicates a birth year closer to 1838 and conflicts with later records. A report of his character was also provided and was noted simply as ‘good’.

Pentonville Prison
Pentonville Prison in 1842

On 9 March 1866, Joseph was removed from Pentonville and was sent to Chatham Prison in Kent. He stayed there for the remainder of his time (six months) in England.

ChathamOn 6 September, Joseph, along with 97 other convicts from Chatham Prison, boarded a paddle steamer which conveyed them down the River Medway and out to The Nore (a sandbank at the mouth of the Thames Estuary). It was there that the new clipper ship Corona was waiting (already with pensioner guards and their families aboard) to embark and transport them to Western Australia. From The Nore the plan was to sail south around the coast of England towards Portsmouth and Portland to embark more convicts from these towns. It did not work out that way.

The Corona photographed between 1885 and 1946. Courtesy of State Library Victoria.

The ship set sail as planned. By 10 September they reached The Downs (an area of sea near the English Channel) and it was noted in the Surgeon’s Journal that many of the convicts had begun to feel the affects of seasickness and that some were also suffering from diarrhoea. The latter ailment was not another symptom of seasickness and its diagnosis and origin can be seen in the entry written on the day the convicts embarked.

One of the Crew seized with Cholera, sent on shore about 3P.M.

Cholera had broken out on the Corona and it was only the start of the voyage. Two days later, as the realisation dawned, steps were taken to try and ensure that the highly contagious disease would not spread further.

Barracks and Prison to be whitewashed twice a week with Chloride of Lime. Chloride of Zinc to be frequently applied to all parts of the Ship. All secretions from Stomach and Bowels to be disinfected. Stoves to be kept burning about Dock all day.

It’s not known whether Joseph suffered from seasickness or contracted cholera.

The disease however took its hold and on 16 September 1866 the ship was towed to The Motherbank (a sandbar northeast of the Isle of Wight) and remained in the area until early October. Throughout that time two convicts, William Sharp and Enoch Gibson, Gibsonpassed away.

By 8 October, the original plan was put back in motion and the Corona sailed for Portsmouth and then Portland to embark a further 79 and 133 convicts respectively, taking the total convicts on board to 308.

They were fed meat which, on alternate days, was accompanied by  either compressed vegetables or preserved potatoes and washed down with cups of either lime juice or wine.

As the illnesses abated and the journey continued, the convicts fell into a weekly routine which was prescribed by the Surgeon and written at the front of his journal. They were required to be up by 6am to wash their beds, hammocks and themselves. At 8am they ate breakfast. At 9:30am they said their prayers. They were exercised on deck and attended school. Dinner was eaten at 12pm and supper at 4:30pm. They said their prayers again at 6pm and were in bed by 8:30pm when the Surgeon completed his rounds.

Each day was the same as the last with the addition of shaving on Tuesdays and Saturdays. Sundays were also especially marked with the words ‘divine service’. All prisoners were expected to “assemble together in a clean and orderly manner, for the worship of Almighty God.

Fifteen rules were also written in the journal and mainly consisted of standard ones such as being required to behave in an orderly manner. They were also not permitted to steal from the stores of food, had to take their bedding on deck every morning and would be severely punished if found with a cutting or sawing instrument.

They ate in separate sections in the mess and each group had an appointed Captain who was in charge and responsible for several duties. Joseph would have been in a particular group in the mess and was required to eat with them for the duration of the journey. Considering his background within the Army, perhaps he felt quite at home on board the Corona. He was certainly no stranger to rules, regulations and strict order.

The ship sailed onwards towards its destination. Most of the trip went fairly well apart from two major incidents: the death of a third convict, Thomas Hinson, who succumbed in early November from diarrhoea and was buried at sea; and the discovery that deck planks had been sawn through by two convicts who were attempting to gain access to (what they thought) was the arms and ammunition stores. Denials served them no good and they received 24 lashes each as punishment.

Perth GazetteFinally, at noon on 22 December 1866, Rottnest Island was sighted. By 3pm in the afternoon they arrived in Fremantle and cast their anchor. Despite their delay at the start, the journey was considered to be the fastest ever to Western Australia and was completed in 66 days.

Joseph and the other convicts remained on board for two more days and, at 6am on the 24th, were disembarked from the Corona and brought ashore. By 8am they had arrived (on foot) at Fremantle Prison.

Fremantle Jetty
South Jetty in Fremantle circa 1870.

Convict number 9104, Joseph Byron was noted as 33 years old (birth year 1833), single with no children. He stood at five foot six and a quarter (just over 170 cm). He was described as having light brown hair, hazel eyes, a round face, dark complexion and was considered stout. Other identifying features included a “mark of ulcer sores on left arm and throat.

His religious denomination was recorded as the Church of England and under the box entitled ‘Residence of Convict’s Family or next of Kin’ it was written “No friends“.

Prior convictions were also stated and while it was written that he had been convicted previously, he had never been transported before. Other than that, his character was good.

Fremantle Prison
Fremantle Prison in the 1860s. Courtesy of the Fremantle History Centre.

At Fremantle Prison, Joseph and the other convicts were inspected and then sent off to bathe. Having handed over what he was wearing, he was issued with a new set of clothes made of heavy cotton material and stamped with black arrows. He also received other items such as socks, handkerchiefs, a pair of boots and a cap. Finally, his hair was cut short and he was sent to his cell.

It’s likely he spent little time in Fremantle Prison and was quickly put to work within the colony, working on roads or public buildings. Joseph however was not interested in keeping his head down and his nose out of trouble. Nine months after his arrival, on 6 September 1867, he was formally warned by Mr McMahon (an assistant warder) that if he continued to misconduct himself he would be brought in and severely punished.

By early January 1868 his behaviour had not improved and he was imprisoned in Perth for three days for “Disobedience of Orders & refusing to work“, a charge which was extremely similar to his original conviction. Perhaps Joseph would not (or could not) work.

Over a year later, on 11 October 1869, he was granted a Ticket of Leave. No longer required to work exclusively as convict labour for the Government, he was free to be employed privately and to earn his own money. Four days later Joseph went to work for John Bancells in Perth as a labourer.

None of his employment prospects were long term. In March 1870 he cut firewood for William McGrath in the Swan district. He worked as a teamster for Mr R. Thompson (also of Swan) in April 1870 and, in June 1872, he twice worked as a gentleman’s servant for Patrick Lambert in Perth.

Joseph seemed only capable of working odd jobs. Despite his trade being a bricklayer, he never actually obtained employment in that field.

Questions as to how he was supporting himself or why he had so few jobs during this period can be answered when reading over the ‘Remarks’ section in the register. Apart from when he was located at the Guildford Convict Depot for the first nine months of 1870 (confirming his employment in Swan) from 1869 until 1874 Joseph was in and out of either prison or hospital. He also spent considerable time in the invalid depot with the record showing that he was in that institution for most of 1873 and the first six months of 1874.

Looking closer at some of the individual records allows us to gain an understanding as to what Joseph may have been going through.

He suffered from rheumatic gout and appears to have been regularly admitted to hospital with this complaint. His first hospital visit occurred on 23 October 1869 at about age 36 and a mere three years after his arrival. He remained there for three months and was not released until 17 January 1870.

Joseph was not always completely blameless for his actions. On 18 May 1872 he was found guilty of assaulting Thomas McNamara (likely another convict) and was sent to prison for fourteen days. This conviction resulted in the cancellation of his Conditional Release which had only been granted three months prior. Another two years passed before he was finally granted his Certificate of Freedom on 21 July 1874.

The following year, in January 1875, he was back in hospital when his old gout problem caused him difficulty. This stint did not last as long as the previous one and he was released in early February.

On 22 October 1877 (noted as being a much older age of 50 in the records) Joseph was found guilty of using obscene and threatening language. No detail was printed in either the register or the newspapers as to who (if anyone) the language was directed towards. He was sentenced to 40/ or one month’s imprisonment. Given the impoverished nature of Joseph’s life in Western Australia, there can be no doubt as to which option was the only one available to him. He went to prison and was discharged in the following month.

Underlying the story of Joseph’s behaviour, it would appear that alcohol was another issue. While there is the possibility that Joseph was ‘self-medicating’ as a way to combat the pain of his rheumatic gout, we can’t ignore the fact that he may simply have been an alcoholic. Perhaps alcohol eased or helped him forget his joint pain for a short while but it would not have been conducive to improving his condition; alcohol is known to trigger the symptoms of gout.

Joseph was a convict who did not succeed within the system. It would appear he tried to survive on his own however, when necessary, he turned to the Government for support and became known as an imperial pauper. Throughout the years Joseph was recorded as receiving several shirts and a couple of pairs of boots, fairly minimal requests compared to other convicts’ larger orders. In the first instance of his making a claim for a shirt (on 24 July 1876) he was described as an ‘invalid’ and was required to sign his name. The signature, though a little scratchy, is strong, dark and clear. In amongst dates, facts and records, it offers a small, personal glimpse relating to the man himself.

Joseph Byron

As an imperial pauper, the years may have passed by slowly and difficultly for Joseph. He resided in Fremantle and at some point went to live in a cave near Rocky Bay. With the Swan River on his doorstep, the area (today part of North Fremantle) would have been much quieter than the hustle and bustle of the town of Fremantle.

My own visit illustrated this fact perfectly. Even today the cave and the area where Joseph lived is quiet and peaceful and with the Swan River gently lapping at the shore I can understand why he would have chosen to stay in the cave and maintain his liberty rather than opt for admittance to an invalid home.

It’s not known how long he resided within the cave but it is likely he lived there for quite some time. As it’s known to happen with people who frequent the same area for a considerable time, he soon became known to everyone as Rocky Bay Joe.

The 1880s saw the occasional visits to both prison and hospital but generally he kept out of trouble. As a new decade began in 1890, Joseph was about 57 years of age. The year did not start well.

On 30 January 1890 Joseph returned to the cave at Rocky Bay to find that his bed and all his belongings (everything he owned in the world) had been set on fire by a group of boys.

Cruel Outrage

The Police were said to have had the names of the boys but whether they were charged remains to be seen. Searching in the Police Gazettes and newspapers indicates that no one around that time period was taken to Court for a similarly described offence.

Less than a week later, Joseph approached the Fremantle Police Court determined to receive compensation for the loss of his property.

He explained that he suffered from rheumatism, and the pittance he earned was just enough to live on, and it was very hard to lose his things in the way he had. He had nothing left except the clothing he wore.

While sympathetic to his plight, the magistrate informed Joseph that he could not give him compensation and that the only way to obtain it was to sue the boys in the Local Court. Such an option would require hiring a lawyer and Joseph (a man clearly without wealth) stated “…he had not the means to do that.” With no other option, Joseph simply had to accept what had happened and move forward. Legal and correct but unfair nonetheless.

May 1890Four months later, on 5 May 1890, Joseph was sent to prison for seven days for being drunk on a Sunday. He spent one day in prison but, upon realising he was ill, was transferred to the hospital where he spent a further eight days.

The cold weather, living rough, his illnesses and perhaps the loss of his property took a major toll on his health. A month later he reported again to the hospital and was admitted on 8 June suffering from influenza and compressed liver. A week later he was listed in the category of ‘seriously ill’ and was described by the Doctor as “very low & weak”. He never recovered from this final illness and, in the morning of Monday, 16 June 1890, Joseph Byron passed away.

Imp Paup 9104 J Byron came in on 8th June 1890 suffering from influenza & compressed liver. He was very low & weak and never recovered much. He died from 4 [?] this morning.

His death certificate reflects his status as a pauper in Western Australia. In fact, his ‘Rank or Profession’ on the certificate is recorded simply as ‘Imperial Pauper’. His official cause of death was listed as influenza, congestion of liver and exhaustion. Absent from the certificate is his place of burial. This information is also not recorded on the Metropolitan Cemeteries Board database. Joseph Byron’s final resting place is unknown and it is disappointing that I cannot pay my respects to the man I have spent the last month researching. Perhaps more information will come to light at a later date.

The Prisoners’ Cash Account book also reveals just how much Joseph had in his account. The last entry (recorded before he was admitted to hospital) calculated that he had eleven shillings and eight pence to his name. Using the Reserve Bank of Australia’s Pre-Decimal Inflation Calculator (starting with the year 1901 as it’s the earliest year available) the amount is roughly equivalent today to $1.17.

Despite the opportunities that existed within Western Australia, Joseph was not a success story to come out of transportation. His records reflect a man who had a painful illness, was often in trouble and in and out of prison or hospital. While there is no doubt these visits were on occasion a result of bad behaviour or sickness, there is also a possibility that his attraction to these institutions was also due to his own poor social situation. If he was sleeping rough or lacking food, the lure of prison or the hospital (where he would be fed regularly and given a bed to sleep in) may have been too tempting.

Joseph Byron was not overly influential or instrumental in creating great things within Western Australia’s history. He had not wealth nor status and thus, as time passed, his story was easily forgotten; a common occurrence for people without family to remember them. Regardless, every person, even the very poor, have stories to tell. They might not be around to tell them themselves but I believe it’s important that we take the time to learn their stories, tell their stories and recognise the part they played in the world, no matter how small.


  • Western Australia, Australia, Convict Records, 1846-1930 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Operations, Inc., 2015.
    Original data: Convict Records. State Records Office of Western Australia, Perth, Western Australia, Australia.
  • Proceedings of the Government of India. Home Department, 1864. Prtd. at the Home Settlement, 1864. Viewed online via Google Books (
  • England & Wales, Crime, Prisons & Punishment, 1770-1935; Millbank Prison Registers: Male Prisoners. Volume 10; Series: HO24; Piece Number: 10.
  • Image of Pentonville Prison sourced from The Illustrated London News courtesy of Wikipedia (
  • Shipping and Mercantile Gazette; 6 September 1866; Page 4. Obtained via Findmypast.
  • Shipping and Mercantile Gazette; 7 September 1866; Page 2. Obtained via Findmypast.
  • Image of the Corona courtesy of State Library Victoria; Accession no(s) H99.220/546 (
  • Admiralty Transport Department, Surgeon Superintendents’ Journals of Convict Ships. MT 32. Kew, Surrey, England: The National Archives of the UK (TNA).
  • Portsmouth Times and Naval Gazette; 29 September 1866. Obtained via Findmypast.
  • 1867 ‘FREMANTLE.’, The Perth Gazette and West Australian Times (WA : 1864 – 1874), 4 January, p. 2. , viewed 08 Apr 2017,
  • Fremantle Jetty and Bathers’ Beach [picture] courtesy of the State Library of Western Australia (Online Call Number: 009275D).
  • Hasluck, Alexandra. “Chapter IV, The Hard Years.” Unwilling Emigrants: A Study of the Convict Period in Western Australia. Melbourne: Oxford UP, 1978. N. pag. Print.
  • Image of Fremantle Prison courtesy of the Fremantle History Centre; Image number 2111 (
  • Western Australia, Australia, Convict Records, 1846-1930 [database on-line]. Description : General Register for Nos 9059 – 9598 (R15). ACC 1156/R15.
  • 1866 ‘Perth Gazette & W. A. Times.’, The Perth Gazette and West Australian Times (WA : 1864 – 1874), 28 December, p. 2. , viewed 08 Apr 2017,
  • Western Australia, Australia, Convict Records, 1846-1930 [database on-line]. Description : Register of Admissions and Discharges from Hospital, 1857 – 1886 (M32). Reference: ACC 1156/M32.
  • Western Australia, Australia, Convict Records, 1846-1930 [database on-line]. Description : Registers of Local Prisoners for Nos 614 – 4185 and 4196 – 6853, 1876 – 1888 (F3 – F4). Cons 1156/F3-F4.
  • Western Australia, Australia, Convict Records, 1846-1930 [database on-line]. Description : Discharged Prisoners Clothing, 1875 – 1933 and Convict Ships, 1850 – 1868 (V12). ACC 1156/V12.
  • 1890 ‘NEWS OF THE DAY.’, The Daily News (Perth, WA : 1882 – 1950), 31 January, p. 3. , viewed 13 Apr 2017,
  • 1890 ‘NEWS AND NOTES.’, The West Australian (Perth, WA : 1879 – 1954), 6 February, p. 3. , viewed 13 Apr 2017,
  • 1890 ‘NEWS AND NOTES.’, The West Australian (Perth, WA : 1879 – 1954), 6 May, p. 2. , viewed 13 Apr 2017,
  • Western Australia, Australia, Convict Records, 1846-1930 [database on-line]. Description : Receipts and Discharges (Fremantle), 1886 – 1892, 1896 – 1898 (RD10A – RD13). ACC 1156/R&D10A-R&D12.
  • Western Australia, Australia, Convict Records, 1846-1930 [database on-line]. Description : Daily Medical Journals, 1887 – 1891 (M24 – M25). ACC 1156M24-M25.
  • Western Australia, Australia, Convict Records, 1846-1930 [database on-line]. Description : Prisoners Private Cash Account Book, 1881 – 1896 (V46). ACC 1156/V46.

The Ginger-Haired Skeleton

The Daily News Friday evening edition was first to break the story and deemed it interesting enough to be front page material. They ran with a concise headline, one which would immediately catch the public’s attention:

Skeleton Found At South Perth

Perhaps readers were initially sceptical of the find. It was, after all, 1 April 1938 – April Fool’s Day – and The Daily News had even printed an image of a young boy being ‘fooled’ by his friends. Was the skeleton another joke?

Earlier in the day, sewerage workers employed by the Water Supply Department were digging an eight foot deep trench on the fence line of a row of houses located between First Avenue and Fremantle Road (now Canning Highway) in South Perth (today the area forms part of Kensington) in order to connect the houses to the main sewerage pipes.

Mr William Mason was one such worker and, as he was digging, he started to come across bits of old wood. He ignored the wood but halted work when his shovel suddenly hit something solid. Carefully digging around so as not to cause any damage to the object, he eventually uncovered it, removed more dirt and came to the realisation that what he was looking at was actually a human skull.

Then I struck something hard, and I dug it out carefully. I dug under it, and turned it over, and saw part of a skull facing me. I picked it up and recognised immediately that it was a human skull. I got a bit of a shock.

The trench where the skeleton was found.

Police were notified but didn’t arrive until much later. The workers however continued to dig and unearthed the rest of the skeleton which looked as though it had once been buried in a thin, wooden coffin which disintegrated once it was hit with the shovel.

Near where the skull was buried Mr Mason picked up what he initially thought was some stringy bark. Upon closer inspection he realised it was actually a tuft of straight, dark ginger hair, two to three inches wide and six to eight inches long. He placed the hair inside the skull for safekeeping. A large, metal, corroded belt buckle was also found with the remains.

There was practically a full set of teeth in good condition, indicating that the bones were those of a young person.

Mr Mason noticed…

There was a hole in the temple. At first I thought it was the hole of the ear but it was too high. The hole was abolt [sic] the size of the top of my finger.

Once the Police arrived they took control of the scene and seized the remains for further investigation.

Initially there was much speculation as to whether the remains were European (perhaps a convict) or Indigenous. The tuft of hair inside the skull led the Police to believe that the skeleton was Aboriginal until Mr Mason explained that he had put the hair there. There was also talk as to whether the area (located on rising ground near water) was once an Indigenous camping ground. This however was quickly dismissed.

daily-newsThe remains were examined the next day by a Doctor who concluded that the individual had most likely been in the ground for at least 50 years but possibly longer. They were then turned over to the Government Medical Officer for a thorough investigation while Detective Sergeant McLernon was handling the police inquiries.

At this point, the story goes cold. No follow up article appeared in any of the Western Australian newspapers. No brief outline of the report written by the Government Medical Officer was printed weeks, months or even a year later. The story disappears.

Contacting the State Records Office of Western Australia also produced no further leads. They had no records within their collection relating to the skeleton. While the response from the SROWA was unfortunately negative, it does not mean that no record exists absolutely. Perhaps the information has not been recorded yet or is located deep within the archives.

What became of the ginger-haired skeleton? Initially I believed the truth of the story but the lack of follow up information printed in any newspaper has me questioning the legitimacy of the find. Was it simply an elaborate April Fools Day stunt which fooled everyone, including the press? Is this why there is no follow up article? Too embarrassed to admit they had been fooled, perhaps they simply chose to remain silent.

The Mirror was the only newspaper who decided to print the words of Mr Mason’s mates after he made the discovery and yelled out, “Look what I’ve got – a human skull!”

“Another April Fool stunt” chuckled fellow workmen.

Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t but until further information is uncovered, I guess this mystery will have to remain unsolved.


The Cornish Pixie

On the night of Jan. 5th, 1905, a fearful storm raged on the South and South West coast of England. A vessel was seen making desperate struggles to keep her course. She was, however, lost to sight and the eager eyes watching, could see no more. Next morning some fishermen searching among a quantity of wreckage, discovered the mannikin, known as Dick Trelawny, tied to a beam of timber.

Washed up on the coast of Penzance in Cornwall, the fishermen who initially found Dick Trelawny eventually became wary of him and came to think of him as something sent to them by the Devil. He went to live with an old lady and, so the story goes, it was there he remained until Captain Jack Neville came across him.

Captain Neville said that he recognised the “importance of this little mite from a scientific and physiological standpoint…“and, after several Doctors looked him over, they came to the conclusion that Dick Trelawny was between 48 and 75 years of age, weighed over four kilos and was about 65 cms tall.

Cornish Pixie ImageHe initially spoke in a “guttural tongue” unable to be deciphered by linguists but soon learnt English and French.

His features, though pensive, are constantly illumined by a sweet smile which, with his merry little laugh and winning eyes, make him a most interesting and pleasant study.

He was given the name ‘The Cornish Pixie’ and agreed to go with Captain Neville to be exhibited around the world.

By June 1908 a similar story such as the one printed in The Cornish Telegraph was printed in The W.A. Record. While much of the information was the same, there were a few additional facts.


On 1 December 1908, Captain Neville, his wife and The Cornish Pixie arrived in Fremantle, Western Australia via the S.S. Charon.

Two days later, The Daily News reported on their arrival and stated that The Cornish Pixie was on display in the window of a vacant shop opposite Brennan Brothers located on Hay Street in Perth. Advertising soon appeared in the newspapers.


Articles boasted that The Cornish Pixie would prove immensely popular in Perth and described the “unanimous expressions of wonder and approval” by the public who had come to see him. The Australian was the only newspaper to provide a description.


While initially only exhibited two times daily, it later changed to three, perhaps suggesting The Cornish Pixie was proving to be very popular with the people of Perth after all.

This wonderful mannikin proved a great source of attraction on Saturday evening, when a continual crowd of visitors thronged to and fro. Captain Neville gives a very interesting and comprehensive explanation to every batch of visitors, allowing them to lift Pixie for themselves…

Subsequent articles always took on a glowing tone, even going as far as stating how immensely popular Pixie (as he came to be known) was with the ladies. While it is possible that the writer(s) genuinely felt the exhibit was amazing, in my opinion, the articles scream of bias. Perhaps Captain Neville had befriended local reporters or, was simply supplying the Albany Advertisingstories himself.

The Cornish Pixie was exhibited in Perth from 3 December until 23 December 1908. He next travelled to Fremantle, was on display for a few days and then headed to Kalgoorlie where he was exhibited from a room on Hannan Street. Coincidentally, the location was once again opposite premises owned by the Brennan Brothers.

At the start of the New Year, Pixie was reported to have arrived in Albany and was shown from a tent on the Parade Street Recreation Ground (see left advertisement). The article describing the exhibition was essentially a carbon copy of previous articles printed in other newspapers.

From Western Australia, Captain Neville and The Cornish Pixie travelled to South Australia in late January 1909 for exhibition at No. 48 Arcade in Adelaide. Articles reiterated his success and one went further, indicating that in the past he had been received by H.R.H. The Prince of Wales, the Kaiser, the Sultan of Turkey, the Khedive of Egypt and the Maharajah of Mysore. Again, while genial to all people, he was noted to be particularly fond of the fairer sex, regularly taking the opportunity to bestow kisses upon them. He was also said to be “decidedly matrimonially inclined.

Jack Johnson, the well-known boxer, was also in South Australia at the time and, while there, decided to pay a visit to The Cornish Pixie. Both were apparently fascinated with the other but Pixie found the upper hand when, convincing Mr Johnson to sit on the floor, he then (supposedly) “hit him full on the nose.

Leaving Adelaide, the group headed to Melbourne for a show at St George’s Hall on Bourke Street in late February and throughout March 1909.

The articles continued in much the same way but with some minor differences. While in Adelaide he was in the matrimonial market, in Melbourne, he was “a firm believer in platonic friendships with the opposite sex.” He spoke his own language in Perth and Adelaide and had only picked up a few words of English and French but in Melbourne he was said to speak English, French and other languages fluently. It is in these slight changes that the story of The Cornish Pixie begins to look rather doubtful.

By April 1909, the group had moved on from Victoria and arrived in New South Wales where The Cornish Pixie was exhibited at 198 Pitt Street in Sydney.

Sydney Ad

Slight differences (perhaps accounting for new audiences) continued. Whereas in Perth Pixie’s age was always recorded in advertising as 45, in Sydney, the age was given an air of mystery by simply leaving it as ‘unknown’.

The language discrepancy also continued. This time, Pixie could speak French fluently but could only understand English and German. Another article stated he had been taught some English and was learning French.

It is hoped that one day he will be able to speak sufficiently well to tell his history; meantime the management offers a substantial reward to anyone who can understand the mannikin’s own language.

Towards the end of May 1909, Pixie was still on exhibit in Sydney and, due to the overwhelming popularity with visitors, had found bigger premises at 498 George Street near Adams’s Cafe. Larger rooms also meant that an additional exhibit could be set up in the window.


Positive reports (perhaps written by Captain Neville) flooded the papers wherever Pixie went however, “Fanella”, writing the column ‘Sydney Week by Week From a Woman’s Point of View’ for the Clarence and Richmond Examiner, visited Pixie and provided a description as well as one of the rare accounts where approval was not given.


On 12 June 1909, Brisbane newspapers began printing advertising for The Cornish Pixie. He was due to leave New South Wales and was on his way to Queensland with the exhibit opening on 15 June.

Cornish Pixie

At 145 Queen Street in Brisbane, all continued in much the same way as the other States. Pixie was put on display, details of his back-story and the exhibit were regularly printed in the paper, people visited him and, by early July 1909, he moved on. He remained absent from the papers for quite a few weeks until 20 July 1909 when it was announced that he would be on display at Gill Street in Charters Towers (a northern Queensland town located an hour and a half inland from Townsville).

Then, in late July 1909, after about eight months on the road and touring five Australian States, the truth was finally exposed. The Cornish Pixie was not (as was often claimed) a descendant of an extinct race of pygmies from central Mexico, he was nothing more than a monkey dressed up in clothes.

The labor socialist newspaper, People, was first to break the story and used the sham as a means to demonstrate the evils of capitalism.

It was with a true spirit of capitalist enterprise that “Cornish Pixie,” the smallest man on earth, was placed upon the Australian show market. Pixie, after a successful exhibition in many States turned out to be a fraud – and not a freak. But it was a clever deception. Men held him in the palm of their hands; women kissed the “dear little fellow; while many presents were bestowed upon him. Yet Pixie was a fraud – a real genuine capitalist fraud. He was not a twentieth century man at all – Pixie was a monkey.

The paper elaborated and stated that Pixie had been taught several tricks and that his voice was provided by a ventriloquist. Where ‘People’ obtained this information is, of course, never divulged. While it could simply be the writer using Pixie to push the anti-capitalism agenda, it seems likely (given the constant discrepancies in Pixie’s story) that there was more than what meets the eye.

The promoters were said to have been fined £50 for cruelty to an animal and, towards the end, the writer bluntly states “Pixie died“. It is this fact which is at complete odds with the actions of Captain Neville. He was still touring around North Queensland with The Cornish Pixie. Was ‘People’ simply inventing a story?Rumours

Captain Neville attempted to nip the rumours in the bud (left) but, it was too late. The Cairns Post was next to report on the story and provided more detail, courtesy of a letter from their Brisbane correspondent. Despite plenty of opportunities to do so previously, it is the first instance where a writer acknowledges that not many people believed Pixie’s backstory about being shipwrecked on the coast of Cornwall. Details of how the truth came to light (albeit vague) were also printed.

He is supposed to have died, either at Sydney, Childers, Crow’s Nest, Maryborough, or Bunderberg (no one seems to know he went to Townsville some weeks ago), and a magistrate is supposed to have demanded a view of the body, and to have uttered a startling cry on discovering that Dick Trelawney – to give him one of his numerous designations – was nothing more nor less than a monkey, whose face and paws had been shaved and enamelled.

Ultimately, the correspondent believed the story was simply a rumour. But the damage was done. The article set off a chain reaction as the news of the deception broke in newspapers around the rest of Australia.


The above description was written by a reporter for ‘Truth’ and while they don’t go as far as stating that Pixie was a monkey, they do provide an interesting, contrasting description of Pixie and the exhibition. It paints a far less jovial picture than what was previously portrayed, perhaps enhancing my assumption that other articles were paid for or written by Neville.

Remarkably, by 11 August 1909 and despite the damaging articles in the press, the tour of The Cornish Pixie continued. It was announced he would be exhibited in Rockhampton in Queensland and, by September 1909, he was advertised to show in Bundaberg (one of the towns he had supposedly died in). It was in Bundaberg that Pixie Bundabergwas to end his tour of Australia and, according to The Bundaberg Mail and Burnett Advertiser, was then boarding a ship destined for Europe.

Clearly, this was a ploy to attract customers. He was next noted to be showing in Gympie in Queensland and then, in October 1909, had arrived back in Brisbane for more shows. Rumours of The Cornish Pixie dying and discovered to be a monkey were proving to be quite good for business and even Captain Neville admitted this fact by stating “…we have had an excellent advertisement through all these rumours.

Despite the story of Pixie being a monkey first appearing in late July 1909 and gaining traction throughout August (especially in Perth, where reporters appeared to be rather put out at being tricked) it wasn’t until October that Captain Neville officially addressed the rumours by writing a letter to the Queensland Times. Reiterating the various statements printed in each of the newspapers, he proclaimed them as “damaging” and went on to quote articles where the exhibition had received positive feedback. He hinted at a defamation lawsuit but stopped short of going any further.

After that, I think we can be satisfied, for we cannot lose time in dragging the papers we complain of into Court – where we should probably obtain heavy damages.

Rather telling, in my opinion.

From Brisbane they went to Ipswich (Queensland); from Ipswich to Geelong (Victoria); from Geelong to Ballarat (Victoria); from Ballarat to Hobart (Tasmania); from Hobart to Launceston (Tasmania).

These last exhibits were conducted at whirlwind pace. They whizzed from one place to the other, stayed for a week or so and then moved on to the next town.

Launceston was the last town visited and in January 1910 it was reported that he had officially departed Australia and was now on show in New Zealand. Spending the first half of the year in New Zealand, Pixie visited Invercargill, Dunedin, Christchurch, Wellington, Auckland, New Plymouth, Wanganui, Palmerston, Timaru and Oamaru.

New Zealanders, unlike the Australians, appeared to have been more sceptical and a letter written to the ‘Dominion’ by R. Dentith reflects this person’s doubts.

Although supposed to speak more than one language, I never heard the Pixie do so. He did not even stand on his legs, much less walk. One of the audience wanted to see his leg, but the showman refused the request, on the ground that he only undertook to exhibit the portions of him which could then be seen, viz, his head, face, and hands. Now, why should there be any objection to satisfy the public that this strange being is wholly human?

Leaving New Zealand in May 1910, it was back to Australia where he was exhibited for the first time in Broken Hill in New South Wales. Remarkably and perhaps to throw off any suspicion, a small paragraph was printed in the Otago Daily Times (New Zealand) regarding an RivalAustralian “rival” and what became of him (left).

From New South Wales, Pixie travelled to South Australia where he was first shown at Port Pirie and then once again in Adelaide for a ‘farewell reception’. Leaving South Australia, it was back to Victoria where he was exhibited in the towns of Hamilton, Colac and Bendigo.

This time Bendigo was definitely the final town where Pixie was exhibited. By mid-August 1910, after nearly two years travelling all over Australia and New Zealand, Captain Neville and The Cornish Pixie left our shores and, according to Mr Kreitmeyer (the owner of the Waxworks in Melbourne and the same man who exhibited Jun Gun) they were on their way to South Africa via the SS Persic.

It’s not known if Captain Neville, his wife and Pixie actually reached South Africa. They remained out of the newspapers for about seven months until March 1911 when a brief announcement was printed in the Evening Post (New Zealand).

The Cornish Pixie died in Calcutta on the 8th February. He contracted a severe cold, and died of acute nephritis.

The Cornish Pixie’s death was “official”. There were no more advertisements, no more overwhelmingly positive write-ups in the paper and no more exhibitions. Captain Neville and his wife, presumably, returned from whence they came with (perhaps) much heavier pockets compared to when they first arrived on the shores of Western Australia in 1908.

Initially, one might assume the story was clear-cut. Looking at the evidence of the small frame, the lack of any understandable language, the hands which were described as ‘double jointed’, the often blatant refusal of Captain Neville allowing anyone to closely investigate and the fact that there was constant contradiction of the story itself indicates that something was amiss with The Cornish Pixie. There is no doubt in my mind that what was put on display was a monkey dressed up in clothes. Some questions however remain unanswered. If the truth was exposed due to the death of The Cornish Pixie, why or how did the show continue? Did Captain Neville own several monkeys for the purpose of ‘The Cornish Pixie’ show? Was the story of Pixie being a monkey true but the story of its death simply a rumour?

As with most things when time takes hold, the exhibition of The Cornish Pixie around Australia and New Zealand faded in the minds of most people. Every now and then someone recalled their visit and experience and wrote to the papers. These later articles, unhindered because of the passage of time, shed more light on the story.

I, with others, went to see the Pixie, who was dressed as a boy and sat on a chair on a dais. “He” waved a cane and did a feeble sort of squeak now and again.

The writer was hoping that ‘R. R. Thorne’ would be able to give them more information about what happened to The Cornish Pixie. Thorne wrote back two days later. He knew Captain Neville. He considered him ungentlemanly in his behaviour. He had associated with The Cornish Pixie exhibit over the course of his work and, he confirmed Pixie was a monkey. Then, he went into great detail about how the monkey was mutilated for the show.

A human monster had subjected the little monkey to fearful tortures over a long period. Almost all its teeth had been extracted. Its face and head had been mutilated, carved, stitched and distorted. The skin had been turned inside out.

After healing it had lost the semblance of its natural self and then, with the aid of acids, dyes and paint, the poor thing had been made to look like a puny, flabby and helpless little boy-man.

Its little squeak and its pathetic waving of a small cane should have torn the hearts of spectators, but instead, raised roars of laughter.

G.M.S. will remember that the Pixie was always dressed in a bright green coat well buttoned up. The body and limbs were covered up as much as possible. Its feet were not seen. Its tiny hands were limp and feeble.

If accurate, it’s a sad end to the story of the monkey named Dick Trelawny also known as The Cornish Pixie. It’s also a sad tale of humanity and illustrates just how far some people will go in order to make their fortune. Captain Neville may have been an astute showman but it does not excuse the fact that he still disfigured an animal, exploited it, fooled the public for his own benefit and, by all appearances, managed to get away with it.


Trove Tuesday – The Bird Hat

While considering a blog post for Trove Tuesday, I thought perhaps I would search for images relating to Victorian era fashion (a favourite topic of mine). I picked a year (1887), searched using the word ‘ladies’ and refined my results so that only the pages with illustrations would be listed. The below image was at the top of the list and after looking at the image my first thought was, “Why are there cats on their hats?”


I then read the caption and quickly realised that the cartoon related to the terrible trend in which whole birds were placed on ladies’ hats, all in the name of fashion. While I am unsure if the newspaper was in earnest with respect to the use of cats or was actually writing tongue-in-cheek, it nevertheless sparked my curiosity with respect to the use of birds on hats and I turned my attention towards searching for historical images.

The fashion trend began in the 1880s and consisted of the use of various parts of birds (feathers, beaks, wings, or the whole bird) mounted on hats. Such was the demand throughout the Victorian era (and into the early 21st century) that concerns soon arose that the continuous killing of the birds could result in the extinction of various species. Conservation movements began which eventually resulted in the creation of legislation to protect birds from being killed.

Of course Australia was no exception and exploring the illustrations in the historical newspapers on Trove shows the many ways in which birds were used in millinery fashion.

Carriage Hat (1889) – “A bird with spread wings describes aigrettes, and a long ostrich feather encircles the low crown, and falls at the back.”
Felt Hat (1884) – “The trimmings are brown velvet and a bird’s head.”
Black Velvet Hat (1888) – “On the horse shoe crown is a brilliant bird; and above is a cluster of chaudron feathers.”
Pearl Grey Hat, with Black and White Ribbon (1895) – “…handsomely trimmed with black and white pleated ribbon carried round the crown, and wings and osprey.”
A Stylish Straw Hat (1886) – “…lined with brown velvet, the crown being draped with gold and brown gauze; aigrette and hummingbird, with gilt crescents.”
French Hat (1885) – “…trimmed with wide braid in two shades of brown, and with a large fantaisie of white feathers and a hazel hen’s head.”
Felt Hat (1886) – “…two pale-gray seagulls mounted in front of a torsade of velvet. Their beaks rest on the turned-up brim.”

While I am grateful that birds are no longer used as fashion ornaments, it’s important to note that, even today, we are not completely blameless. According to BirdLife, many birds are still under threat from a variety of different issues such as destruction of habitat, climate change or feral animals. We may have come a long way from our Victorian era counterparts and their disturbing millinery trend, but all of us still must do better to protect birds and their environment. For more information on Australian Birds, please visit BirdLife:


Message in a Bottle

A story involving my 4th Great Grandfather, Abraham Hurst, a message in a bottle and the ship ‘Hydrabad’.

Finding Family

Messages in bottles have long been considered fascinating to many people. Stories of people finding them on the beach regularly pop up on news websites (often with the letters returned to their original owners) so it’s of no surprise to find that newspapers of the past similarly reported on such discoveries in much the same way.


In 1869 when the bottle was found, Abraham Hurst was 64 years old and had been living in the southwest of Western Australia for 27 years. Specific details relating to his discovery were not printed (I’m not even particularly sure where the bottle was found) but the letter found within the bottle was. While I can only use my imagination as to how Abraham found it, I can go one better with respect to the contents; I can research it.

The letter was written by an individual while they were on board the ship Hydrabad. It’s dated 18 April 1869 and appears to have been signed off by the Master…

View original post 1,377 more words

The Prince of the Red Desert

WARNING: Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander readers are warned that the following blog post may contain images and names of deceased persons.

Roebourne, 13 August 1889

Mr. Alex. Edgar has arrived in town. While in Condon he received a letter from Mr. Alexander McPhee saying that he had caught a white native about 260 miles inland from Condon, and adding that he wanted to arrive in Condon by mail day.

Unable to arrive in Condon in time, Alexander McPhee (with the Aboriginal man in tow) instead sent a telegram addressed to Mr Edgar in Roebourne which provided additional information about the man. Described as having albinism, the man was considered to be as “white as any white man” and sported light brown hair and sandy whiskers.

Several days later the Acting Government Resident at Roebourne, Mr R. C. Hare, sent a telegram to the Colonial Secretary.


For three months no more news was heard. Then, on 24 October 1889, the story was once again picked up and reported as if it was new. A more detailed description was printed and the man was said to have white hair, a white beard and white skin. His eyes were grey, he stood at five foot six inches tall and had quite a number of scars on his head and body. He also had the “usual tatoo marks“. Typical of the Victorian era and their fascination for people who were different, they ended the description with…

…he is a novelty if not a freak of nature.

Alexander McPhee was noted to be heading to Perth sometime in the future and it was stated that he would be bringing the Aboriginal man with him.

On 26 December 1889, Alexander McPhee, the Aboriginal man and two other Aboriginal men boarded the S.S. Franklin in Cossack bound for Fremantle. The journey south along the coast of Western Australia took several days and included stops in Ashburton, Carnarvon and Geraldton. On 31 December 1889 at approximately 7pm, the ‘Franklin’ reached its destination.

Three days later it became apparent that Mr McPhee’s decision to come to Perth was for the sole purpose of exhibiting the Aboriginal man to the public.

Exhibition of the Albino Jongon, at the Mechanics’ Institute, Perth, January 4, from 10a.m. till 1p.m. and from 8p.m. till 10p.m.

The Mechanics’ Institute in 1894. Courtesy of the State Library of Western Australia.

It is in these notices however that we first learn that the man previously referred to in newspaper reports as simply ‘Aboriginal Albino’ was actually named Jun Gun (often spelt in a variety of ways but more often spelt in this manner).

Advertising was placed in the papers which called people to come and see “the wonder of the nort[h]” for the admission cost of one shilling.


Newspaper reporters who attended the exhibition followed up with articles detailing their observations. Most stated that he differed greatly to the “ordinary albino” and then went on to describe him:

Jungun, as the native is called, has none of these peculiarities, but differs from the ordinary aboriginal chiefly in the colour of his skin and hair. The former is of a light brown tinged with red, or what may be called a copper colour. His hair is a very pale brown tinged with flaxen. The irides of his eyes are hazel brown, and there is a slight brownish appearance about the pupils.

Described as being about 27 years old, he was dressed in white pants, was wearing a headdress of feathers and wore a piece of kangaroo bone through his nose.

Many people visited the Mechanics’ Institute both in the morning and evening for the purpose of seeing Jun Gun. During the evening show, he and his two companions sung several of their tribal songs but preferred to do so whilst behind a curtain.

Throughout the exhibition it was noted that Jun Gun was not shy or uncomfortable and Mr McPhee stated that, “He had always found him very tractable in his disposition, and of an even quiet, temper.” How McPhee managed to convince Jun Gun to leave his tribal lands is never touched upon. But, not only had he convinced him to travel to Perth, he had also convinced him to travel to the east coast of Australia.passenger-list

The exhibition of Jun Gun in Perth ran from 4 January until 8 January. Four days later, on 12 January 1890, Alex McPhee, Jun Gun and the two Aboriginal men boarded the S.S. Albany in Fremantle bound for Melbourne. Mr McPhee was recorded as a saloon passenger while “three natives” were recorded in  steerage (right).

On 24 January, Jun Gun arrived in Victoria. The Argus was the first newspaper to pick up the story and stated “The discovery and bringing of Jungun within the confines of civilisation reads very much like a romance.” They also provided background information about how McPhee arranged and was allowed to travel to Melbourne for the exhibition.

To do this he had to give up his employment and pay a deposit of £10 for each native to the Aboriginal Board for their return.

As was the case in Perth, advertisements were soon printed in the paper announcing the opening for 1 February 1890 but, unlike Perth (where he was displayed in the Mechanics’ Institute) Jun Gun was to be displayed in Kreitmayer’s Waxworks and Museum which was located on Bourke Street in Melbourne.

Kreitmayer’s Waxworks & Museum (centre – with the flag). Courtesy of State Library Victoria.

Jun Gun’s appearance soon became a source of debate among Victorians as to whether he did have albinism or if he was the progeny of a relationship between an Aboriginal person and a European person. In an extremely cringe-worthy article, The Argus began by asking the question “What is it?” and then went on to say:

With a curious and pathetic interest one asks that question when looking at “Jun-Gun,” the Australian albino, at the Bourke-street Waxworks. What is it? this thing brought in from the wilderness, which yet remains to Australia; this queer white flower from the black garden?

At first suggesting that a Doctor look over Jun Gun closely in an effort to ascertain his origin, the writer then touched upon the subject of the lost explorers from Ludwig Leichhardt’s expedition and raised the question as to whether Jun Gun’s appearance was due to him being the offspring of one of these lost men. Leichhardt was a German man and this theory was further enhanced in the 1930s when it was stated that the word ‘Jung’ in German means young. There was much speculation that Jun Gun’s name may have been bestowed upon him by Leichhardt.

Unwilling to fully commit to this theory however, the writer then turned to thoughts of prenatal influence.


In a nutshell, the story of Elsie Venner (written by Oliver Wendell Holmes), was a fictional book in which a woman was bitten by a rattlesnake while pregnant. The woman eventually died but her baby survived; a daughter who was said to have snake-like characteristics developed because of the snake bite which occurred whilst she was in the womb.

Alexander McPhee was quick to respond and wrote a letter to The Argus on the same day that the article went to print. His letter was printed in the next day’s paper. While he refuted the claims with regards to Jun Gun having European ancestry (his tribe was said to have never seen a European man before McPhee came along) he also provided additional information in relation to the stories he’d heard from the Indigenous people which may have related to Leichhardt. Fuelled by the claims in the letter, talk soon turned to Leichhardt and the possibility of finding new traces of the lost explorers. A meeting was held and Mr McPhee was invited to attend. The group came to the conclusion that a new expedition should be established to investigate the rumours about Leichhardt. They invited McPhee to lead the party but he refused.

Unfortunately, however, that gentleman’s business arrangements will not permit of his leaving Victoria just now unless he is compensated for loss of time, and nothing definite can be done until this financial difficulty is overcome.

Jun Gun continued to be a popular exhibit at the Waxworks and entertained the crowds by singing his tribal songs and making fire using a stick. While in Melbourne, he visited J.W. Lindt’s studio and had his photograph taken. If you wish to view the photograph on the National Library of Australia’s website, please click here.

The newspapers continued to ask the question as to whether or not he had albinism and to add credence to the claim that he did, Mr Kreitmayer (the owner of the Waxworks) invited several medical professionals and other leading men to examine Jun Gun and provide their opinion. Unable to completely explain his appearance, they rested on calling him a “freak of nature.


Jun Gun was on display at the Waxworks throughout most of February 1890 and, towards the end of the month, The Australasian (a pictorial newspaper) printed an article as well as an image of him.


By mid-March the exhibition in Melbourne  began to wind down and his last appearance was announced. On 25 March 1890, Mr McPhee, Jun Gun and the two Aboriginal men wereoverland reported to be travelling overland from Melbourne to Sydney (right).

He was exhibited first in Solomon’s Royal Museum in Sydney and by the middle of April was reported to be heading to Newcastle for exhibition at 53 Hunter Street. William Freeman, the Business Manager, placed an ad in the Newcastle newcastleMorning Herald and Miners’ Advocate (left).

From Newcastle the party travelled back to Victoria and, in early May, The Ballarat Star announced that Jun Gun would be exhibited in Ballarat at the Mechanics’ Institute. The public could view him for the cost of sixpence.

It is elsewhere advertised that the aboriginal albino Jun Gun will be exhibited in Ballarat on Saturday next. This extraordinary individual was annexed by Mr McPhee in the back country of Western Australia, and his appearance in Melbourne caused no little curiosity and speculation.

In Ballarat, unlike what was seen at the other exhibitions, Jun Gun and the two Aboriginal men displayed their prowess with the spear and boomerang. They also demonstrated their defence skills using a shield; batting away cricket balls, boomerangs and sticks which were thrown at them from a distance of 30 yards (approximately 27 metres). Disturbingly, the objects being thrown had such force behind them that the newspaper noted that several boomerangs had been broken.


After the exhibition the aboriginals, who were in full war costume, wearing only trunks, and having their breasts and arms painted, were taken round the Oval, to give the spectators a view of them at close quarters.

It was to be Jun Gun’s last exhibition.

After this date (May 1890) he no longer appeared in the papers unless it was in association with McPhee, Leichhardt and the new expedition.


Eight months later, on 6 January 1891, The Argus printed a letter (part of which is below) received from McPhee which was dated 8 December 1890.

Sir,- Thinking that many of your readers will be interested in my return trip with Jun Gun to his country, I forward you an account of it. I arrived in Roebourne (the centre of the north-west district of this colony) about the middle of July, and started for a small station about 250 miles along the coast east of Roebourne called Yinadong, whence I started inland with Jun Gun, Timothy, and four horses. We travelled in an easterly direction over rough spinifex country for 150 miles, the only permanent water being a patch of mound springs which extend along a salt marsh for 20 miles. We met natives who knew Jun Gun, and he was so overjoyed at meeting his friends again that he wanted to leave me at once and walk to his country, so I let him go. I offered him flour and tobacco, but he refused them, saying he would rather live with the others on rats and lizards. He took off all his clothes, and got a spear from his mates, and started off with them in high spirits.

Jun Gun, it would seem, after about five months of being on display, had finally returned home.

McPhee continued with his letter stating that he’d met another Aboriginal man who looked similar to Jun Gun and then further mentioned he’d spoken to an older man who said that “when he was a boy he heard of a party of whites and horses dying a long way inland.” Once again a lost party (perhaps Leichhardt’s) was hinted at by McPhee.

Contradicting this letter, another website, The Batavia Legacy, writes that Jun Gun died in 1892 in Healesville, Victoria. Given the fact that the place of death is quite specific I deemed it worthy of follow up. I’ve left a comment on the blog but as at this post’s publishing date, it has not been approved nor responded to.

Their source for this statement however may have originated from a newspaper article printed in The West Australian in 1934. It adds the following extra detail (albeit slight) with regards to Jun Gun’s time in Victoria and adds weight to the aforementioned website’s claim.

He and his full-blooded compatriots, when not on exhibition, were taken up to one of the aboriginal reserves near Healsville (Victoria).

Jun Gun was not mentioned for several years until January 1893 when Western Australian newspapers picked up on a story printed in Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper (USA) in which he was referred to by the American writer as “The Prince of the Red Desert“.

This article, by comparison to the others, went into a huge amount of detail relating to Jun Gun; providing descriptions of his appearance, his story, his tribe, language, how McPhee found him and even attempting to write the words of a tribal song he was singing whilst in Melbourne. While the accuracy with respect to the Indigenous language (reported as being ‘Naugamont’) has not been ascertained, the article itself provides a fascinating firsthand account of Jun Gun according to the writer’s observations. It is well worth a read.

His squatting, gold-bronzed figure was flanked on both sides by a woolly headed, coal-black native of his own tribe. The three were making the tabbee, the strange music of the irghilly, beating its two blades together rhythmically, rocking too and fro on their haunches, ankles crossed, and singing a low rolling hum in chromatics…

The American further organised a ‘transformation’ while he was at Lindt’s photographic studio and arranged for Jun Gun to be dressed up in a dark blue suit accessorised with a hat and cane. Finding him to be unrecognisable in the clothing, the writer stated, “His bearing was unassuming and precisely what is meant in the best use of the word aristocratic.

Having read through various newspaper articles and records relating to Jun Gun I find myself pondering the question, what was McPhee’s intention? Was he hoping to attract fame and fortune off the back of Jun Gun’s differing looks? Was he hoping that Jun Gun’s appearance would raise questions and ultimately result in a new expedition to look for Leichhardt? Despite the exhibition being about Jun Gun, Leichhardt  was mentioned often and it was McPhee who provided the quotes from Indigenous people about lost Europeans and horses; a carrot which continually enticed others to once again look for the lost explorers.

Early in 1890 (while in Melbourne) Alexander McPhee was described by the Victorian Express (Geraldton, WA) as a “gold prospector, explorer, story-teller, showman, etc.“. Perhaps McPhee (a natural story teller) simply recognised the talk, interest and questions which would arise from Jun Gun’s appearance and decided to use it to his advantage.

Unfortunately, despite all the information that is available, it is all one-sided. We can read about McPhee’s side of the story but we can’t read Jun Gun’s. We’ll never know whether it was Jun Gun’s choice to travel with McPhee or if he felt coerced in some way. We’ll never know how he felt to be on display; to be told to sing his tribal songs and make fire; to be looked over, prodded at and inspected by people full of opinions seeking to prove or disprove his Aboriginality; to stand on an oval and fend off viciously thrown cricket balls all in the name of Victorian era entertainment.  It is my hope that in the end Jun Gun really did return home to his family and his country but, in all honesty, we may never know.


Australia’s Cat Invasion


2,000 cats wanted in Australia. I looked at the above article from 1857 in horror and wondered about its authenticity. Surely not. My attention caught and completely distracted from my family history research, I began to search for more information. What I discovered was a story completely unknown to me; a story which has turned all that I’d known (and assumed) about feral cats completely on its head.

While I have yet to confirm whether the above article is real it was subsequent research which led me to discover more information about the story of cats in Australia. Before discussing cats however, it’s important to provide some background, namely, the history of the rabbit in Australia.

Domesticated rabbits were first introduced in Australia by the First Fleet in 1788. Most likely used as a source of food, they remained largely out of the early newspaper articles. They were eventually brought over to Tasmania and by 1827 it was noted that the wild rabbit population had exploded. While there was a rabbit population on the mainland, these seem to have been mainly kept in captivity. It wasn’t until the late 1850s that rabbits were released in several areas in the hope of establishing a population specifically for hunting. In 1859, 24 rabbits were released by Thomas Austin on his property in Victoria and it is said that the current infestation stems from this group.

As the rabbits bred and infested the whole country many options were looked at as a way to reduce their population and control the spread. Methods such as shooting, poisoning, destroying their warrens, building fences and spreading rabbit borne viruses were all employed at various points in time. One method occasionally mentioned in the history of the rabbit in Australia is the release of cats in the bush in the hope that they would kill and eventually eradicate the rabbits. Of course attempting to remove one pest with another introduced species was never going to work. While I’m sure pet cats have contributed to a fair share of the feral cat population, perhaps some of their numbers also originated in these early intentional releases.

Suggestions of using cats to eradicate the rabbits can be seen in the historical newspapers. An article printed in The Mercury (Hobart, Tasmania) in 1870 asked the question, “Why does not the Rural Municipality of Campbell Town offer a premium on the introduction into that district of wild cats?” Admitting that the feral cat would be considered extremely destructive, they further stated:


The rabbit problem continued and many people shared their opinions on how to get rid of them by writing to the newspapers. Their suggestions were overwhelmingly in favour of the release of cats into the bush.

In 1878 ‘Subscriber’ from Mount Rothwell, Little River said “I have seen in your columns a good many plans for keeping down the rabbits, but as I have not seen any notice taken of turning out tame cats and letting them run wild and breed among the rabbits, I would thank you to make this public by inserting it in your next issue.” Having tried the release of cats on his own property, he went on to say that he found them rather effective.

‘Anti-Vermin’ went a little further in their letter to The Australasian. They suggested that an Act be passed which would make it illegal to destroy domestic cats. Their thoughts hinged on the assumption that with domestic cats being protected (and not hunted by trappers) they would be free to go about their business which would include the hunting of rabbits.

The Leader (Victoria) received a letter from ‘Farmer’ of Dimboola advising that “…it may be of great advantage to all landholders to get as many cats as they possibly can, and let them loose on their holdings without feeding them.” He also bestowed some sage wisdom on the use of cats, “…nature works better than all Parliament laws…

‘Bushman’ of Kurracca also wrote to the Leader in 1879:


While individuals and landholders were quick to point out the use of cats as a way to control the rabbits, it would seem that a mass release of cats wasn’t really reported until the 1880s. Opinions (in the form of letters to the editor) continued in much the same way.


In April 1881 it was widely reported in various newspapers that someone (the name was kept out of the papers) had released 200 domestic cats on his station in places where the rabbits inhabited. The report appears to have its origin in a Geelong newspaper so it can be assumed that this action probably occurred in Victoria. The individual stated that rabbits were no longer seen on the property and they provided an insight (albeit incorrect) into the future of feral cats.

The remedy certainly has the merit of simplicity, as it does not require any labour, and unless the cats develop new tastes it is not one of those which will prove worse than the disease.

Unfortunately the anonymity of the “enterprising” individual means that it’s impossible to ascertain whether such actions were indeed carried out or if the article itself was false.

These ‘evidence-based’ articles however continued to increase as others sought to prove the benefits of releasing cats in the bush and the success they’d had with the scheme. Names also began to be printed with letters and articles, perhaps as a way to add validity to what was being reported.


On 29 July 1885, the Geelong Advertiser reported that, three months prior to the article going to print, several hundred cats had been set free on the Woolamanata Estate which was located near Lara in Victoria. The cats had the desired effect on the rabbit population and it was noted that there was an “abundance of proof” in the form of rabbit skeletons lying about on the property.

[The cats]…are now scattered about in many directions. A process of acclimatising the domestic cats to the wilds of the bush has to be pursued…

Pleased with the results, those involved only had one real concern.


Others quickly followed suit. In 1885 the owners of Gogeldrie Station in New South Wales were said to have purchased 700 cats and released them in one go. The owner of Tarwin Station in Victoria wrote a detailed letter explaining how he went about exterminating the rabbits with about 50 cats. Tolarno Station (New South Wales) received 300 cats in late 1886.

Remarkably, such was the interest in cats versus rabbits, even the United Kingdom picked up the story and printed the details in various newspapers in 1886.


With the rabbit problem compounding and the land being overrun, it wasn’t long before Parliamentary Acts were passed. The Acts essentially placed the onus of eliminating rabbits on the shoulders of landholders. Inspectors were appointed by the Government and their duty was to inspect properties and issue notices ordering the landholder to take action against the rabbits if their property was found to be infested. Failure to do so would result in a fine.

The realisation that cats were helping with the problem meant that they too eventually became part of the Acts. Domestic cats (feral or otherwise) became protected under the Acts relating to the destruction of rabbits. Anyone found to have willingly captured, sold, disposed of or killed cats on their property (without a permit) would face a fine.

The Rabbits Destruction Act 1883 (Tasmania)

Sadly, not much changed in the 1890s. In 1892 an advertisement was placed in The Advertiser (South Australia) by the Willowie Land & Pastoral Association.


Shocked at so large a number, the newspapers contacted the Association to ascertain why so many cats were needed. They advised that while they could easily keep the rabbits at bay on the plains by covering the water with nets, they were unable to protect the gullies as netting was not an option. There were already 500 cats on the Wirrialpa Station and more, it seems, were necessary.

The past experience of the company has shown that no damage is done by the cats, which confine their attention solely to the unfortunate rabbits.

By 1893 it was reported by The Advertiser’s (Albany) Eucla correspondent that rabbits were getting closer to the Western Australian border and that travellers journeying from Fowler’s Bay in South Australia were known to have been killing rabbits for food. Despite the warnings in the papers, no action was taken. In early 1896 the news from Eucla read:

The rabbits have established themselves here now, beyond a doubt, and the advance guard, which passed here some 18 months ago, is doubtless nearing the goldfields by this time. I think that the Government will regret not having made the slightest effort to prevent the inroad of this pests into the colony.

The Western Australian Government did eventually take action against the rabbits. Three years later, in 1899, they decided to use cats.


The start of a new century saw no change. Newspapers continued to sing the praises of cats being left to roam in the bush so they could hunt rabbits. Anecdotes from the 1880s and more recent examples of cats being found to have ‘done their job’ were printed as if to justify their use. Proclamations continued to be made in Government Gazettes prohibiting the killing of domestic cats. On rare occasions, newspapers admitted that the cats may become a pest but stated “It’s all a question of the devil we know, and the devil we don’t know!“.

In searching for the phrase ‘feral cats’ on Trove the first instance of a newspaper printing their concerns with regards to domestic cats in the bush occurred in 1926. The Register (South Australia) printed a scathing article about the release of pests in Australia and the terrible damage they’d caused, and placed the blame firmly at the feet of European settlers.

…but the conclusion is inevitable, that the white man, who found the face of Nature smiling on this country, a hundred years ago, has since, with his own hands, and by his four-footed importations, changed the smile to an ominous frown.

It continued by pointing out that the problems started with the rabbit and further elaborated that in seeking to destroy the rabbit, man “let loose upon the fauna of this country a series of scourges which may yet be fatal to nearly all but itself.” While they touched upon the dingo as being an introduced species which, after thousands of years, became part of the Australian landscape, they made no exception with respect to the cat.

The domestic cat, however, has been assisted and encouraged to revert to the wild state of its original type.

After years of newspapers printing reports from individuals stating that cats killed the rabbits and that there was no harm in releasing them in the bush, finally, the truth was admitted.


Professor Frederic Wood Jones (an anatomist, naturalist and anthropologist) went on to say:

Apart altogether from questions of economic utility, these feral cats are a terrible scourge, when we consider the vast numbers of the more rare, interesting, and beautiful members of our native fauna that are annually destroyed by them.

Today millions of feral cats are still found roaming the bush along with the rabbit; the very creature they were initially meant to destroy. The words of Professor Wood Jones may have been printed in 1926 but they still ring true today. Found in every part of Australia, the feral cat still threatens the survival of our native fauna and has caused the extinction of several types of birds and mammals. According to the Australian Wildlife Conservancy (AWC), each night, feral cats kill millions of different native species across Australia.

Vital research carried out by organisations such as the AWC aim to reduce the impact of cats (there is no effective method of completely eradicating them). They’ve also established ‘feral-free’ fenced areas which provide a safe haven for native wildlife within the area by completely eradicating feral predators. In 2015, they announced that in Newhaven Wildlife Sanctuary in central Australia, a feral cat-free sanctuary (the largest feral cat eradication project in the world) will be established in order to return endangered mammals back to the area.

As human beings in the natural environment, we really do have a lot to answer for. Australia existed undisturbed for tens of thousands of years and in a little over 200 years (European settlement) we introduced species which decimated populations of native fauna. The early settlers may have been ignorant of the consequences of their actions but I truly cannot say that they meant well. Free Englishmen emigrated to a completely unknown country for a myriad of reasons (adventure, money, status) but despite doing so, many still sought to recreate what they’d left behind. Rabbits (and foxes) were released for hunting; a sport practiced by the upper classes in England and it seems that in seeking to re-establish a much loved recreation they started a chain reaction first with the rabbit and then with the feral cat.

It’s likely that it will take a very long time before the actions of the past are reversed and feral pests (including cats) are eradicated from the environment. The mistakes of the past have been acknowledged and now we must look to the future. It is through the hard work and research conducted by individuals and organisations such as the Australian Wildlife Conservancy which may in time help restore the balance in the Australian environment.

This blog post was written independently of the Australian Wildlife Conservancy and is in no way affiliated with them. However, if you wish to support them, their cause and the work that they do, please donate via: