The Halls

This website is designed, researched and written by Mark Matthews. It may alter with updated information and research as it comes to hand. This section is a work in progress...

The Hall family's story is a tale of survival and resilience in the face of adversity, beginning with their crimes in England and Ireland and their subsequent transportation to the penal colony of New South Wales. Benjamin Hall Sr., the father of the notorious Australian bushranger Ben Hall, was a 'Ticket of Freedom' convict born in Bristol, England. He was transported to New South Wales for stealing goods exceeding the value of one shilling. His life in England was marked by criminal activities, including robbery and petty theft, eventually leading to his transportation.

Eliza Somers, Ben Hall's Irish mother, shared a similar fate. She, too, was transported to New South Wales for theft. The couple's life in the penal colony was far from their criminal past in their home countries. They had their fourth child, Ben Hall, in May 1837 in Maitland, New South Wales. Ben Hall later gained notoriety as an Australian bushranger, his life marked by a series of bushranging activities meticulously documented in historical records.

The Hall family's journey from their criminal past in England and Ireland to their new beginnings in New South Wales is a testament to their resilience. Despite the harsh conditions of the penal colony, they managed to carve out a life for themselves and their children. Their story is a significant part of Australia's convict history, shedding light on the lives of those who were transported to the penal colonies and their subsequent contributions to the development of Australian society.

Ben Hall, the notorious Australian bushranger, was born in May 1837 at Maitland, New South Wales (NSW). Ben was the fourth child of Benjamin Hall, a 'Ticket of Freedom' convict, and the fifth child of Eliza Hall nee Somers, a convict who was to achieve her freedom in 1849. The family story of Ben Hall begins with his English father Benjamin Hall and his Irish mother Eliza Somers transported during the foundation period of the penal colony of New South Wales. (Convict transport to NSW was between 1788-1850. Transport to Australia ended in WA in 1867.) Ben Hall's parents were each sentenced to seven years of penal servitude and consequently were transported to NSW for stealing goods exceeding the value of one shilling. Benjamin Hall Sr. was Christened on 26th May 1805 at Bedminster, Bristol, England.

Somerset, England,
Gaol Registers, 1807-1879.

Nestled along the southwest coast of England, the city of Bristol commanded a strategic position on the River Avon, linking it seamlessly to the Severn Estuary and beyond to the vast expanse of the North Atlantic Ocean. By the time the 1820s dawned, Bristol had burgeoned into a bustling urban centre, its population swelling to nearly 20,000 souls. This surge positioned it as England's third-largest city, trailing only behind the sprawling metropolis of London and the historic city of Norwich.

Bristol's fortuitous location was a catalyst for its emergence as a hub of commerce and trade. The city forged robust commercial links with the West Indies and America, its prosperity significantly buoyed by the grim and lucrative transatlantic slave trade. Ships set sail from Bristol's docks, braving ocean voyages to return heavy with sought-after commodities like sugar and tobacco.

The city's economic tapestry was further enriched by its exportation of manufactured goods, including copper, glassware, and brassware, all eagerly sought after in the burgeoning colonies. Bristol's shipbuilding industry, in particular, flourished its docks a hive of activity and innovation, crafting vessels that would ply the world's oceans.

Yet, beneath the veneer of commercial triumph, Bristol grappled with societal challenges. The city's success was shadowed by a rising tide of crime, a scourge that afflicted not only Bristol itself but also cast a pall over the neighbouring communities within Somerset County. This spike in unlawful activities was a blemish on the city's reputation, a stark contrast to its economic achievements, and a harbinger of the complex social dynamics that would characterise the era.

Somerset, England,
Gaol Registers, 1807-1879.
Open in New Tab.

Benjamin Hall's trajectory into a life shadowed by criminality was marked early on. Court documents from 1824 chronicle his initial entanglement with the law, which concluded with an acquittal on robbery charges in March of that year. The legal notation 'No Bill' was inscribed in the records, signifying that the evidence against him was insufficient to warrant a trial and granting him a temporary reprieve from the judicial system.

This period of freedom was, however, fleeting. By July of the same year, Benjamin was once again ensnared in the legal net, this time resulting in a five-month incarceration for another robbery. This stint behind bars did little to deter him from the crooked path he had begun to tread.

In April 1825, not long after his release, Benjamin was again in the clutches of the law, accused of theft. Fortune seemed to favour him once more, as he was acquitted of these charges, narrowly escaping further punishment. But the respite was brief; within two months, he was back in the familiar confines of a police cell, facing yet another theft charge. This pattern of repeated arrests and court appearances painted a grim picture of Benjamin Hall's life, one marred by persistent criminal endeavours. (See Registries right.)

Benjamin Hall arrests September 1823 and 1824 confinement of five months.
Somerset, England, Gaol Registers, 1807-1879. Note employment.

Somerset, England,
Gaol Registers, 1807-1879.

Benjamin's criminal exploits reached a critical juncture with an incident that forever changed his fate. It was a crime significant enough to be featured in the 'Bristol Mercury and Universal Advertiser', in a report dated July 14th, 1825. The account indicated that a twenty-year-old Benjamin Hall, alongside three other accomplices — eighteen-year-old Sarah Jones, seventeen-year-old Samuel Frappell, and sixteen-year-old Ellen Weyland — had been apprehended. The quartet was charged with the theft of two cotton gowns, three cotton frocks, and a pair of stockings, belongings of Mr James Bluford.

However, the gravity of their offence went beyond simple theft — they were accused of housebreaking, a serious criminal act that carried much heavier penalties. Their collective trial took place on July 11th, 1825. For Benjamin, this event marked the end of his criminal ventures on English soil, as the case's repercussions had far-reaching implications.

Somerset, England,
Gaol Registers, 1807-1879.

Upon the conclusion of the trial, Benjamin Hall and Samuel Frappell were found guilty of their theft charges, while Sarah Jones and Ellen Weyland were absolved of their crimes. In the official documents of 1825, Hall's physical appearance was detailed for record: standing at 5 feet 6 inches tall, he had a sallow complexion, brown hair, and grey eyes. Notably, he had distinguishing features such as a tattoo 'SJ' on his right arm — likely a tribute to Sarah Jones, who was presumably his girlfriend at the time — and a prominent scar on the back of his left hand. Furthermore, there were two visible cut marks on his head, specifically over his left ear.

This description marked a noticeable departure from his earlier portrayal in 1823, where he was simply referred to as "stout made," an indication of his solid and somewhat rotund stature, particularly around the waist. Benjamin's evolution, both in terms of his physical appearance and his legal transgressions, marked a significant turning point in his life. The tattoo and scars spoke to personal relationships and experiences, while the guilty verdict set him on an irreversible path.

Somerset, England,
Gaol Registers, 1807-1879.

As indicated in the criminal records of the time, Benjamin Hall was employed as a skinner or a leather draper. The specifics of his employment — such as his place of work or his employer — remain unknown. What is clear, however, is that Hall was not a simple labourer; his ability to read and write well suggests that he had received a formal education. This background implies a certain degree of intelligence and an understanding of the world beyond manual labour, which makes his descent into criminality even more poignant. The promise of a man skilled in a trade and well-read, marred by the choices that would forever define his life.

Authors Note: Samuel Frappell had been previously arrested in January 1825 for larceny and was given a two-week prison sentence and whipped.

Hulk 'Ganymede', 1825.

Following a guilty verdict, Benjamin Hall was sentenced to seven years of transportation to New South Wales. This was a consequence of the times — a solution implemented by the British government to address the country's growing crime epidemic. England's crime problem had become so severe that Captain Cook's discovery of New Holland in 1770 was repurposed as a penal colony. Joseph Banks, an officer on Cook's voyage, had initially intended to colonise the land as a safe haven for British Loyalist following the war of independence in America, but as crime increased, the land became a place to send convicts, many of whom had been convicted of minor offenses.

Benjamin Hall's life was dramatically altered by this sentence. Upon his sentencing, he was first taken to the prison hulk 'Ganymede', moored at Woolwich in July 1825. Soon after, he was transferred to another hulk, the 'Justitia', alongside his mate Samuel Frappell. However, the pair didn't remain together for long — due to his 'bad conduct', Hall was moved to the 'Dromedary' on November 9, 1825. From there, evidence points to his being sent to Bermuda to work on naval fortifications and a dry dock then under construction.

In Bermuda, Hall's sentence took on a new dimension. The dock and fortifications were integral to England's maritime operations, and they were largely constructed by convicts like Hall. It was a harsh life — thousands of miles away from home, serving out a sentence that, for many, felt like an eternity. For Benjamin Hall, this was just the beginning of his life as a convict, a life that would later become intertwined with the story of a young, burgeoning nation on the other side of the world.

Prison Hulk Justitia 9th Sept 1825

Departing the 'Justitia', Benjamin Hall found himself bound for Bermuda on the supply ship 'Dromedary' on December 12, 1825. Records indicate that just a few weeks later, on December 28th, the ship embarked carrying Hall and 100 other convicts. Upon reaching Bermuda, the 'Dromedary' was repurposed as a prison hulk.

Benjamin Hall's presence on the 'Dromedary' and its subsequent voyage aligns with the record of his behavior from the 'Justitia', implying that his frequent relocations were a consequence of his bad conduct. This period in Hall's life marked a harsh transition from a petty criminal in England to a convict serving his sentence abroad — a period that molded him into a notorious figure in Australia's early history.

Benjamin Hall, Dromedary 12th December 1825

Authors Note: Dromedary was an East Indiaman that the Navy purchased in 1805. First named Howe, and then renamed Dromedary in 1808. The Dromedary as well sailed to New South Wales carrying Lachlan and Elizabeth Macquarie in 1809. She was converted to a convict ship in 1819, then became a prison hulk in Bermuda in 1825, and was finally broken up there in August 1864.

Despite a brief stint in Bermuda, which concluded upon the completion of the dry-dock, Hall was sent back to England. Records suggest that he was transferred to the 'York', a prison hulk docked at Gosport, Portsmouth. However, Hall's disruptive conduct persisted, signalling that his time in England was nearing its end.

Eventually, he was moved to the convict transport ship 'Midas' anchored at Portsmouth. Meanwhile, Samuel Frappell, Hall's accomplice who also received a sentence of seven years transportation, spent his confinement on the hulk 'Discovery' at Deptford. Interestingly, this was the very same ship Captain Cook had used for his second voyage to the South Seas and as a support vessel for his third voyage.

Early records imply that Frappell may have been relocated to Tasmania, with traces of him living there in 1827. However, after this, his existence fades into obscurity, mirroring the elusive nature of many transported convicts' lives. (See Justitia ledger above centre.)

The UK, Prison Hulk Registers and Letter Books
 for Hulk 'York' 1826

Justitia Hulk,
Woolwich.
c. 1820's

Benjamin Hall's prison hulks incarceration would have been a harrowing experience of any man or woman. Enduring abysmal conditions. Conditions so horrendous, they are described as follows:

Prisoners arrived at the convict facility with their 'caption papers' (Which stated the offence, the date of conviction and length of sentence). The standards of hygiene were so poor that outbreaks of disease spread quickly. Typhoid and cholera were common, and there was a high death rate amongst the prisoners. The authorities were always keen to keep down the cost of the prisons. They wished to avoid giving prisoners a better life than the poor had outside of the hulks. The quality of the prisoners' food was, therefore kept as low as possible. The monotonous daily meals consisted chiefly of; ox-cheek, either boiled or made into soup, pease pudding (a dish of split peas boiled with onion and carrot and mashed to a pulp) bread or biscuit. The biscuits were often mouldy and green on both sides. On two days a week, the meat was replaced by oatmeal and cheese. Each prisoner had two pints of beer four days a week, and badly filtered water, drawn from the river.

The floating prisons were rated to hold as many as 600 men. The division of the men and women were arranged with 124 disposed on the top deck, 192 on the middle deck, 284 on the lower deck. All effected without crowding. Beneath the lower deck is the hold, a large and mostly unoccupied space were divided into store-rooms, separated by a passage. Conditions varied per Hulk.

The link below gives a description of a Prison Hulk moored on the Thames. Although it was set in 1862, the narrative would still relate to the life on board for Ben Hall's father and his pre-transportation in 1826.

https://soundcloud.com/user-718726573/henry-mayhew-a-day-on-the-defence-hulk

A day on a prison hulk by Henry Mayhew

The discipline and employment of convicts are briefly detailed;

Onboard each hulk, a book is kept by the Overseer, in which are entered the names of all convicts; and, on the first Sunday of every quarter, they are mustered, and the character of each convict, for the previous three months, is marked against his name, as follows: v.g. very good; g. good; in. indifferent; b. bad; v.b. very bad. The convicts, after they are classed, are kept in separate compartments onboard the ship, and are not allowed to mix with any other class than that to which they belong after the hours of daily labour. 

Note: It would appear that Benjamin Hall's conduct was continually assessed as v. b. - very bad.

 

Another prisoner on the NSW bound convict transport ship 'Midas' with Benjamin Hall was James Tucker alias Rosenberg, who had been tried at Chelmsford on 6th March 1826 and sentenced to life for the crime of sending a threatening letter. He was admitted to the 'Leviathan' hulk on 6th May 1826. Furthermore, the novel 'Adventures of Ralph Rashleigh, A Penal Exile in Australia' has been attributed to James Tucker. Tucker describes life on the Midas in the following excerpts, republished from the 1929 version.  (See Source page for full text)

'Convicts on their way
to Port Jackson'.
(litho) by Richard Caton
Woodville.

This vessel was an ancient '74 (1774) which, after a gallant career in carrying the flag of England over the wide oceans of the navigable world, had come at last to be used for the humiliating service of housing convicts awaiting transportation over those seas. She was stripped and denuded of all that makes for a ship's vanity. Two masts remained to serve as clothes props, and on her deck stood a landward conceived shed which seemed to deride the shreds of dignity which even a hulk retains. The criminals were marched aboard, and paraded on the quarter-deck of the desecrated old hooker, mustered and received by the captain. Their prison irons were then removed and handed over to the jail authorities, who departed as the convicts were taken to the forecastle. There every man was forced to strip and take a thorough bath, after which each was handed out an outfit consisting of a coarse grey jacket, waistcoat and trousers, a round-crowned, broad-brimmed felt hat, and a pair of heavily nailed shoes. The hulk's barber then got to work shaving and cropping the polls of every mother's son.

A guard marched the laden and fettered prisoners below decks, where they were greeted with roars of ironic welcome from the convicts already incarcerated there. The lower deck was divided up into divisions by means of iron palisading, with lamps hanging at regular intervals, and these divisions were subdivided by wooden partitions into a score or so of apartments, each of which housed from fifteen to twenty convicts.

However, a convict's misbehaviour, such as Benjamin Hall assessed as conduct very bad. Was dealt with on-board by mild and persuasive means of correction. If that failed, more severe punishments followed. Such as reducing their provisions allowance, confinement in a dark cell with no other food other than bread and water for not more than seven days, or moderate whipping, which was not allowed to exceed twenty-four lashes. There is no record of Hall being flogged on the Hulks.

In September 1826, the 'London Morning Post' reported that a guard from the 39th Regiment was ordered to board the 'Midas' at Portsmouth. Under the command of Lieutenant George Meares Bowen, the guard comprised of 30 rank-and-file soldiers. Bowen and his officers were each paid £95 to cover the expenses of their passage and clothes.

It was a common practice for ship captains to offer officers a discount on food and wine during the voyage, often to the tune of £50. Such practices were part of the intricate arrangements surrounding convict transportation during this period of British history. Many ships were contracted whereby Captains would supplement their income by selling goods on arrival in Port Jackson.

After enduring 15 months of confinement and hard labor, Benjamin Hall finally boarded the convict ship 'Midas' on October 2, 1826. With its capacity of 430 tons, the 'Midas' was owned and commanded by Captain James Baigrie. The ship's medical officer, Doctor James Morice, also held the post of Superintendent.

Upon boarding, Hall became one among the ship's 148 convicts, which included James Tucker. As the ship prepared for its voyage, a daily routine was put into place for the convicts. Then, two weeks later, the long-anticipated order came: the 'Midas' was to set sail for New South Wales. Departing from Portsmouth on October 16, 1826, the ship moved into the English Channel and then the Atlantic Ocean, its impressive sails guiding it southwards.

James Tucker offered a unique perspective on life aboard the 'Midas' as it embarked on its journey. In his work, 'Adventures of Ralph Rashleigh, A Penal Exile in Australia', he detailed the experience in rich detail, shedding light on the shipboard routine, the conditions, and the shared experience of the convicts.

The routine of the ship was arranged so that, during the voyage, the convicts were allowed the liberty of the deck from sunrise until sunset, under an armed guard of three soldiers posted at points of vantage which gave them full surveillance of the tough bunch of derelicts in their charge. A boatswain and six mates were selected by the surgeon-superintendent from among the convicts, and they were made responsible for the cleanliness and orderliness of their fellows. The convicts' food-ration was what was known in the transport service as 'Six upon Four,' six convicts sharing between them the rations normally allowed for four Royal Navy sailors. The food was mainly salt tack, and on alternate days a small portion of wine or lime-juice was issued. Water was the only item of the diet which had to be carefully apportioned: the food, such as it was, was plentiful. In addition to the surgeon's sanitary party selected from the prisoners, there were also chosen another boatswain, two cooks, and other servants, who formed monitors or leaders of the squads of eight into which for purposes of food supplies the convicts were divided.

As night fell on the English Channel, the convicts were ordered below to the sleeping-berths, between decks. These were framed of deal boards, supported by stanchions and quartering’s, and subdivided in compartments, each sleeping six men in very close proximity. These sleeping-berths were framed in rows along each side of the ship, with a double row between them separated by narrow passages, for many of those who were unused to the motion of the ship, as many of them had never been to sea, the vertiginous motion of the vessel caused by the broken sea of the Channel, filled them not only with nausea but with terror. Soon after being shut below, the sea freshened, and at first, there was much confusion among the closely-packed prisoners. Those who were not too terrified to do other than lie in the immobility of fear filled the night with a contrasting chorus of oaths and prayers. Gradually, however, a semblance of quietude came.

After a grueling voyage spanning 122 days and marred by the loss of three lives, the 'Midas' finally reached its destination. The evening of February 14, 1827, saw a dramatic entrance at the Port Jackson heads, where the ship narrowly avoided a collision with the pilot boat. However, the 'Midas' made it to the harbor unscathed.

The ship's arrival was subsequently reported in 'The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser'. The news of its landing, along with the arrival of Benjamin Hall and the rest of the convicts, marked the end of one journey and the beginning of another in the penal colony of New South Wales.

The same evening, the ship Midas, Captain Baigrie, arrived from Portsmouth, whence she sailed the 16th of October, bringing 145 male prisoners, and lost 3 on the passage. Surgeon Superintendent, Dr James Morice, R. N. The guard consists of Lieutenant Bowen and a detachment of the 39th. Passengers, Reverend J. Norman, Mrs Norman, and 3 children; Mr Lisk, Mr James McArthur, Mr Charles McArthur, and Ensigns Bulkeley and Lewis, 40th Regt.

Days after anchoring in the harbour, the 'Midas' released her captive passengers into their new world. On February 19th, 1827, a convict muster took place on board, overseen by the Colonial Secretary, Alexander McLeay. The muster, or 'Indent', included crucial details about the newly arrived convicts, encapsulating a snapshot of their past lives.

Among the documented information were their names, ages, educational background, religious beliefs, family status, marital status, place of birth, occupation, nature of their offence, date and place of trial, previous convictions, and even their physical descriptions. The Indent also contained information about the convict's designated assignments upon their arrival in New South Wales.

Benjamin Hall, stepping onto the soil of Sydney Cove for the first time on March 1, 1827, found himself marched to Hyde Park Barracks - the heart of the penal colony and the starting point of his life in the antipodes.

Benjamin Hall Indent

Once more, James Tucker recounts the 'Midas' prisoners’ arrival at Sydney Cove;

Arrival the prisoners on board were again mustered preparatory to their going ashore and received each a new suit of clothing, after which they were placed in boats, by divisions, and rowed to a spot of land near Fort Macquarie, where, being landed, they waited until all had arrived and then proceeded through a part of the public promenade known as the Domain, up to the Prisoner's Barracks (Hyde Park), where they were placed in a back yard by themselves, and shortly afterwards again paraded. On their dismissal, a host of the older prisoners insinuated themselves among them for the purpose of bargaining for clothes, trinkets or other property, and many a poor new chum - the distinctive name bestowed upon them by the old hands - was deprived of all his little stock of comforts by the artifices of the others, who appeared to pique themselves in no small degree upon their dexterity with which they could thus pick up (rob) the unwary newcomers. (For the experience of Benjamin's march to Hyde Park barracks, play link below)

https://soundcloud.com/user-718726573/hyde-park-march

Hyde Park Barracks; Painting by Wayne Hagg ©

James Tucker

Authors Note; James Tucker was born on 8 August 1803. The first indisputable reference to James Tucker is in 1826 when at 18, he was charged with sending a threatening letter to a cousin, James Stanford Tucker, of Leytonstone, Essex. Under the name, James Rosenberg Tucker, a clerk, was tried at the Essex Assizes on 3 March 1826, found guilty, and sentenced to transportation for life. He arrived at Sydney on the Midas in conjunction with Benjamin Hall, February 1827 and was assigned the Emu Plains Agricultural Establishment next month. By 1831, Tucker was one of the prisoners attached to the Department of Public Works and in 1832-39 was employed in the Colonial Architect's Office. His ticket-of-leave was recommended by the Sydney bench of magistrates in 1833 and issued on 27 June 1835. Consequently, it was suspended in 1839 after he was convicted of drunkenness. However, in recognition of his efforts during a catastrophic fire at the Royal Hotel on March 1840, he was again recommended for a ticket-of-leave effected on 1st September 1840, allowing Tucker to relocate to Maitland's district. ( it is unknown whether Tucker had contact with Benjamin.) He lost his ticket in 1844 when he was convicted of forgery. Sentenced to work in irons for a year, he was transferred to Port Macquarie's penal settlement, whereby in September 1846, he was employed as a storekeeper to the superintendent. (Ref; Peter Scott, Australian Dictionary of Biography)

A.B. Spark property holding's at Maitland
on Hunter River, coloured green. c. 1833.

A.B. Spark's lower
George Street, No.11 premises
which were attached to
The Sydney Arms Hotel.
c. 1828.

Fortune seemed to favor Benjamin Hall during his early days in the penal colony. His stay within the confines of Hyde Park Barracks was short-lived due to his previous experience as a groom. An occupation much in demand among the colonial pastoralists, as it signified a handy all-rounder. Despite his pre-arrival occupation as a Skinner/Butcher, which he would later revert to upon gaining his 'Ticket of Freedom', Hall's skills as a groom found him an assignment rather quickly.

He was assigned to the service of Mr Alexander Brodie Spark (Sparke), a man of significant property. Spark owned 'Radfordslea', a 2000-acre estate in the fertile Hunter Valley, along with 'Fallbrook', a vast 4000-acre farm along the Hunter River. In addition to these holdings, Spark also held a nine-acre grant in Sydney at Woolloomooloo. It appears that Hall initially remained in Sydney, at Spark's George Street premises, and possibly at other Spark properties along the Cooks River, a river that meanders northwest to Chullora before veering southwest to enter Botany Bay at Kyeemagh, beside Kingsford Smith Airport.

During this period, while in Sydney, Hall found himself in trouble with the law once again. On August 16, 1827, he was charged with 'Privately Stealing' or 'Stealing from his Master'. Following nine days in custody, Hall was acquitted. Whether this incident tainted Hall's record, which had already been classified as 'Very Bad' during his time on the prison hulks, is unclear. Regardless, shortly after this event, Hall was dispatched to the Hunter Region, perhaps as a precautionary measure or punishment against further mischief in the heart of the colony. (See image below.)

Benjamin Hall Charged with Stealing 1827, Acquitted. Note; George Handcock was hanged in December 1827 for the theft of 40 shillings.

Authors Note: Alexander Brodie Spark was born on 9th August 1792 in Elgin, Scotland. He arrived in Sydney on board the 'Princess Charlotte' in April 1823. He brought with him letters of recommendation and was granted 2000 acres of land. Six convicts were assigned to him as well as an allotment of land in Newcastle. Later he was to increase his holdings in the Hunter region to over 6,000 acres. He also owned a farm at Cooks River. In George Street, Sydney, a store was taken over by Spark and by 1825, he was chartering ships for the coastal trade. He was also an agent for country settlers and later became the Bank of Australia's Managing Director. By the 1840s, A.B. Spark was in financial difficulties and was declared insolvent in 1844. He died at Tempe on 21 October 1856.

Packet Ship on
Hunter River c. 1827.

A. A. McLellan, in his book 'Benjamin Hall and Family', speculates about Hall's initial journey to the Hunter Region. According to McLellan, the journey most likely began with Hall boarding a small packet boat to Morpeth/Maitland. After disembarking, Hall, possibly in the company of other convicts, would have embarked on a long trek to reach Spark's Hunter River property, Radfordslea. This arduous journey would have been Hall's first experience of the vast, rugged landscape that lay beyond Sydney's colonial confines.

There being no road between Sydney and the Hunter Valley, the normal mode of travel was by sailing packets to Newcastle and Green Hills (now Morpeth). These packets were cutters or small schooners. If the wind was favourable they could reach Green Hills in two days from Sydney but if adverse the time was much greater. Being small, if winds were adverse for the trip up the Hunter River to Green Hills, they could be rowed using sweeps. Benjamin and other convicts travelled to Green Hills in one of these packets probably escorted by a soldier. They would have travelled on the deck or in the hold and if it were necessary to row they would have been required to assist.

A.B. Spark c. 1830.
Courtesy NLA

Upon arrival at Green Hills, it is believed that Benjamin Hall commenced the next leg of his journey. He was directed to the barracks in Maitland, a little over an hour's march away. There, he received both directions and rations for his onward journey to 'Radfordslea', roughly an eighteen-mile trek. 'Radfordslea' was a sprawling, yet undeveloped 2000-acre property situated near Black Creek, close to the confluence of the River Hunter. Managed by an overseer, the property was bounded on the north by the river, while an extensive Church Reserve lay to its east. The property's postal address fell under Castle Forbes, notorious for being owned by the infamous and brutal James Mudie.

Mudie, a former Marine officer and later bankrupt entrepreneur, was best known for his ill-fated scheme to sell medallions commemorating the Napoleonic heroes. This venture led to nearly £10,000 in losses, propelling Mudie and his book-selling firm partners into bankruptcy. Despite this downfall, Mudie managed to secure his passage to New South Wales in 1822 through connections with Sir Charles Forbes and the Colonial Office, bringing his three daughters and a step-daughter with him. This infamous medallion affair earned Mudie the nickname, 'The Major'.

In New South Wales, Mudie quickly developed a reputation for his brutal treatment of convicts, which not only made him notorious but also a source of embarrassment for the Governor. Among his preferred punishments was one particularly harsh method, which was often remarked upon:

The lash was Mudie's God, and he worshipped it as a savage only can worship a thing of evil.

Mudie's peculiar behaviours eventually led to his dismissal from the role of 'Commissioner of the Peace' by Governor Burke in 1836. His excessively harsh treatment of convicts precipitated a mutiny among some of them. They sought to murder John Lanarch, Mudie's son-in-law, who was known to share Mudie's penchant for punishment. This uprising culminated in the hanging of five convicts, while Lanarch survived the attempted murder. Two of the condemned mutineers, Anthony Hitchcock and John Poole, met their fate at 'Castle Forbes'. The other three – James Riley, John Perry, and James Ryan – were executed in Sydney. The last accused was exiled to Norfolk Island.

Authors Note: Castle Forbes was owned in partnership by James Mudie and his son-in-law John Larnach. It had become renowned as a place of horror for the convicts and where the two men had under their control as many as 130. Floggings had become an almost daily occurrence under both Mudie's and John Larnach's supervision. Rations were poor and conditions unbearable.  Furthermore, Lanarch's niece Emily would marry one Stanley Hosie, who would fall under the son Ben Hall's gun in 1863. (See Links page)

Census of 1828. Castle Forbes
was the postal address
for Radfordslea.
Benjamin's age was 23 yrs.

As per the census records of 1828, Benjamin Hall was employed by Mr Spark, but intriguingly, he resided at Castle Forbes. This discrepancy might be attributed to A.B. Spark's close friendship with Mudie, as it was known that Spark occasionally lent convicts to work on Mudie's infamous property. Regardless of these circumstances, Benjamin Hall began to acclimate to his role as an assigned servant. An excerpt from 'Benjamin Hall and Family' by A. A. McLellan provides insight into Benjamin Hall's day-to-day life at Radfordslea:

There were thirteen other assigned servants who under the overseer performed all work necessary for the operation of the property.  All were accommodated in rough huts and provided with food and clothing according to a government ration and supply scale.  Each was responsible for preparing his own rations which, while adequate, were often of poor quality.  Each was required to work from daylight to dark except on Sundays, which was a rest day though if the overseer thought it necessary each could be required to work on that day also.  No payment was made for the work except for work on Sunday which if voluntary was ordinarily paid for by the master. Occasionally also convicts were paid for work done outside their normal duties.

However, upon completion of five out of his seven-year sentence, Hall was theoretically eligible for a 'Ticket of Freedom'. However, there is no documented proof of Benjamin being granted an early release from his servitude to Mr Spark. This could perhaps be attributed to disciplinary issues, which seem to have hindered Benjamin's early acquisition of his 'Ticket of Freedom'. The situation must have been disheartening, as within weeks of fulfilling his original seven-year sentence, Benjamin deserted his master's service, alongside three other convicts. This act of absconding led to Benjamin Hall's name being reported in the 'Sydney Herald' on the 25th of June 1832.

THE undermentioned Prisoners having absconded from the Individuals and Employments set against their Names respectively, and some of them being at large with stolen Certificates and Tickets of Leave, all Constables and others are hereby required and commanded to use their utmost exertions in apprehending and lodging them in safe custody. Any person harbouring or employing any of the said Absentees will be prosecuted as the Law directs: Hall Benjamin, Midas. 27, groom, Bristol, 5 feet 6 1/2 inches, grey eyes, dark brown hair, sallow complexion, S J on the right arm, large scar across the back of the left hand and two cuts on head over the left ear, from Mr A. B. Spark's estate, Hunter's River.

NSW Government Gazette
30th June 1832.

Benjamin's escapade to freedom, however, was short-lived. He was swiftly recaptured and returned to Mr Spark's service. Despite his fleeting taste of liberty, it seemed that no punitive measures were taken against Hall. Remarkably, his transgression didn't prevent him from being granted a 'Ticket of Freedom' on the 25th of July 1832. Yet, the question remains: had Benjamin assumed his sentence was complete, thus leaving without the necessary documents, or was he simply too quick to celebrate his impending freedom?

One could also speculate that after serving Spark for over four years, Benjamin might have been reassigned or lent to the notoriously harsh James Mudie at Castle Forbes. If Hall did work at Castle Forbes, he could have been subject to the strict discipline enforced there and decided to flee. Regardless of the circumstances, Benjamin's brief taste of freedom marked a crucial milestone in his life journey.

Benjamin Hall's 'Ticket of Freedom' was far more than a mere piece of paper; it was a symbol of newfound autonomy after years of grueling servitude. It signified the dawn of a fresh chapter, one free of restrictions, and the opportunity to finally seek remunerated employment. For many ex-convicts like Hall, this ticket laid the foundation for their ascendancy to Australia's emerging elite. Yet for Benjamin, his immediate ambition was much simpler: the ticket was a passport to Sydney and a gateway to matrimonial bliss.

By late August 1832, Benjamin travelled along the old Bulga Track—now broadly aligned with the Putty Road between Singleton and Windsor—and arrived in the Parramatta district. He soon obtained employment in Stonequarry (present-day Picton), where he encountered Eliza Somers, a young Irishwoman who would later become his wife.

#

Eliza was born in Dublin in 1807, the illegitimate daughter of Timothy Kelly and Elizabeth Somers. No formal record of her birth or of any marriage between her parents has been identified, leaving the details of her early life largely undocumented. At approximately twenty years of age, she was charged with larceny at the Four Courts in Dublin.

It is that from a young age, no doubt childhood, that Eliza was engaged in petty theft prior to her arrest, during a period in which she resided with her widowed sister, Catherine De Laney, and assisted in supporting her sister’s child. Catherine herself was subsequently convicted of shoplifting and transported to New South Wales, arriving aboard the Forth II in October 1830 with 120 other Irish female convicts and her child. Surviving records indicate that Eliza alternately used the surnames Kelly and Somers in her dealings with Dublin’s authorities, reflecting both her illegitimate birth and the fluid naming practices common among the urban poor.

Note: It should also be noted that in Australia, Eliza would be recorded as Eliza Somers, Eliza Summers, Elizabeth Somers and Elizabeth Sommers.

The Tenements Dublin.

Eliza was reared amidst the squalor of Dublin's most impoverished tenements, surrounded by a warren of narrow lanes and alleyways, where children often battled hunger and clothing was a luxury. Education was an exception rather than a norm, resulting in Eliza's illiteracy. The deprived conditions turned these children into foot soldiers of crime, forming the first modern gangs. Their reality mirrored the fictional world of Charles Dickens' 'Oliver Twist', as they mastered the craft of pick-pocketing, petty theft, and shoplifting.

Within the impoverished tenement districts of Dublin, the crowded quarters surrounding Ormond Market and Castlemarket, where labour was typically casual and centred on the wharves of the River Liffey and the Dublin Quays. These neighbourhoods were characterised by extreme overcrowding, poor sanitation, and chronic deprivation. Although a generation earlier, the census conducted in 1798 by the Reverend William Whitelaw provides a valuable contemporary description of such environments. His inspection of Dublin’s tenements recorded severe congestion, filth, and structural decay, conditions that persisted well into the early nineteenth century and shaped the lives of their inhabitants. Whitelaw observed that refuse and ordure were commonly thrown into confined backyards and left to accumulate, while stagnant moisture and waste frequently flowed into the adjoining streets due to the absence of effective drainage. Such observations illustrate the degraded living conditions typical of the urban poor.

Reverend William Whitelaw observation:

Into the backyard of each house, frequently not ten feet deep, is flung, from the windows of each apartment, the ordure and other filth of its numerous inhabitants; from whence it is so seldom removed, that I have seen it nearly on a level with the windows of the first floor; and the moisture that, after heavy rains, oozes from this heap, having frequently no sewer to carry it off, runs into the street, by the entry leading to the staircase. When I attempted to take the population of a ruinous house in Josephs Lane, near Castlemarket, I was interrupted in my progress, by an inundation of putrid blood, alive with maggots, which had, from an adjacent slaughter-house, burst the back-door, and filled the hall to the depth of several inches. By the help of a plank, and some stepping stones, which I procured to the purpose (for the inhabitants, without any concern, waded through it), I reached the staircase. It had rained violently, and, from the shattered state of the roof, a torrent of water made its way through every floor, from the garret to the ground. The shallow looks, and filth of the wretches, who crowded round me, indicated their situation, though they seemed insensible to the stench, which I could scarce sustain for a few minutes.

To listen to Whitelaw's commentary click below.

https://soundcloud.com/user-718726573/reverend-william-whitelaw-slums-of-dublin-1798

Within this milieu, hunger, disease, and irregular employment were pervasive realities. Education among children of the tenements was rare, and illiteracy was widespread, a circumstance that applied to Eliza, who appears in later records as unable to read or write. During her childhood, around 1814, she contracted smallpox, then a highly prevalent and often fatal disease across Europe. Mortality rates commonly ranged between 20 and 60 per cent, rising significantly among children. Eliza survived the illness, though not without lasting consequence; contemporary descriptions note the deep facial scarring typical of smallpox survivors.

 
Despite these challenges, it remains unclear whether Eliza managed to secure any form of employment in Dublin, as she had no formal training or recognised trade. Her early life remains shrouded in uncertainty, her story shaped more by the city's penurious enviroment than any written record. 

The Four Courts Dock.

Evidence of stable employment for Eliza in Dublin is lacking, and it is probable that her economic survival depended upon irregular or informal means. Her criminal record suggests repeated involvement in petty theft, offences closely associated with the subsistence strategies of the urban poor. Following an initial period of detention and a brief escape, she was apprehended again in 1827 and sentenced to twelve months’ imprisonment in Newgate Prison, Dublin, an institution notorious for overcrowding and unsanitary conditions. After Newgate, she was also confined for a time in Cork City Prison while awaiting further proceedings; contemporary inspection reports from the mid-1820s indicate that conditions for female prisoners there were comparatively less severe than in Newgate.

Her encounters with the law continued after her release. In 1829, Eliza was convicted of stealing a handkerchief and a pair of gloves, a seemingly minor offence that nevertheless carried grave legal consequences under the prevailing penal system. The court sentenced her to seven years’ transportation to New South Wales. Following her conviction, she was transferred from Dublin to Cork, a journey of approximately 160 miles, and held in the city prison while awaiting embarkation for transportation to the Australian colonies.

Warrants of the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland for Eliza Somers 1829

 (The link below takes you inside Cork City Prison, where Eliza was incarcerated before embarkation for NSW.)

 http://www.storywise.ie/Cork_City_Gaol/Cork_City_Gaol_Virtual_Tour.html

Cork Women's
Prison.

Notwithstanding the severity of her broader circumstances, Eliza Somers’ period of confinement in Cork City Prison appears to have constituted a relative improvement upon the harsher conditions she had previously endured in Newgate Prison, Dublin. Contemporary evidence suggests that the standard of accommodation and general treatment of female prisoners in Cork was comparatively better. This distinction was noted in the Inspector General of Prisons’ report of 1826, noted below, which recorded more favourable conditions for women confined within the facility.

 

This New Gaol is at length fully occupied, and I had great satisfaction in seeing the regularity with which all the details had been arranged; the best classification I had met with in any Gaol is established. The prisoners were almost all clothed, and from their demeanour and cleanliness, evinced the care of the Board of Superintendence, the Gaol is erected on a good plan, though not the most modern; providing 110 cells and 13 classes, completely separated, and as soon as employment shall be provided for all those not sentenced to the Tread-mill and schooling more extensively applied to all prisoners. The female department will require much attention as the Matron does not possess all the high qualifications of this important office; however, she is anxious to do her duty. The classes were clean, orderly and at work. She should visit the County Gaol and get instruction from the Matron there, who is qualified in every particular. Machinery for pounding Hemp or other useful labour should be applied to the Tread-mill. The Governor's house and some of the walls are very wet from a defect in the roof and should be attended to, and a pavement channel should be made to convey the running water from the hill. The accommodation this Gaol affords consists of 14 Yards, 18 Day Rooms, 110 Cells, an Infirmary, Chapel and Marshalsea.

Eliza Somers supply of clothing for the voyage was dismal.
Note Mary Henry, who died during the voyage.

Cork Harbour, Eliza's last
look at Ireland.

Prior to embarkation, Eliza, together with approximately 200 female convicts drawn from various parts of Ireland, was transferred to the transport ship Asia (1) (5) to prepare for departure. The notation “(5)” indicates the vessel’s fifth convict voyage to New South Wales. Originally constructed as a British ship of the line and launched in 1819, the three-masted vessel measured 536 tons and, for this voyage, operated under the command of Captain Thomas Stead.

The transport departed Cork Harbour on 10 September 1829, bound for Port Jackson. As Asia (1) (5) cleared the harbour and commenced its passage to New South Wales, the ship’s naval surgeon, Mr Alexander Nisbett, maintained a detailed medical journal. His records document the physical and psychological hardships experienced by the female convicts during the early stages of the voyage, providing a contemporaneous account of the conditions encountered aboard the transport.

 

Women convicts quarters
below decks.

On leaving Cork for NSW, we encountered a good deal of wet blowing weather, which produced most intense and distressing sea sickness and kept the decks for several days that may be much better imagined than described and it was nothing but the utmost determination that we kept them clean. However, they all got over it easily and remained exceedingly healthy until our long detention between the bouts of the trade winds when a few slight cases of fever occurred.

The diseases which prevailed to any extent will be seen on reference to have been fever and dysentery,  few cases of other diseases occurring except what may be expected in such a society. Dysentery was the disease which proved the most severe and which two cases proceeded to a fatal conclusion. The fever proved much more manageable and in general, yielded readily to the means employed. This difference may be attributed partly.

This state of things continued into our leaving the southern tropic where instead of the fine weather mostly found in those latitudes we had gales of wind with rainy weather which confined all the convicts below for a week at one time. Those women who were compelled to be on decks such as cooks and monitors to take their provisions etc. below had to be supplied with blankets, jackets and petticoats. For the sake of cleanliness and ventilation, the convicts were never allowed to be below during the day except when the weather was unfavourable. The prison doors were always opened in the morning, and the upper deck was washed and dried, and every person allowed free access until after breakfast when they were all sent on deck where they remained until dinner. After dinner, they again came on deck and remained until being mustered down below for the night usually half an hour before sunset. Wind sails were kept constantly in use down each hatchway. Within the tropics the women were almost constantly on deck, awnings being spread. By means of the work put on board by the recommendation of the ladies committee the minds of the convicts were kept pretty well employed and towards the close of the voyage when this source was expended, the ship was very well found in jute the converting of which into oakum was found to be an excellent employment. 

Listen to Mr Alexander Nisbett's words, Naval Surgeon for the Asia 1 (5) on which Eliza Somers was transported to NSW. Click below.

https://soundcloud.com/user-718726573/journal-of-dr-nisbett-ships-surgeon-asia-1-5-1829

For some Irish convicts, the experience of transportation, notwithstanding its inherent severity, could be perceived as a comparatively preferable alternative to the extreme poverty and insecurity that had characterised their lives in Dublin’s tenement districts. Exile to New South Wales, though punitive in intent, also represented the prospect of removal from chronic destitution and social marginalisation, and the possibility—however uncertain—of personal reform within a developing colonial society. Contemporary commentary from free settlers in the colony similarly reflected this view, observing that, in certain instances, transportation afforded convicts an opportunity to escape the entrenched deprivation of Ireland’s urban slums and to commence life anew in a settlement that was increasingly stabilising and expanding.

 

The Irish Convicts are more happy and contented with their situation on board ship than the English, although more loth to leave their country even improved as the situation of the great body of them is by thus being removed, numbers telling me that they had never been half so well off in their lives before. They laid particular importance to the fact of having a blanket and bed 'to my own self entirely', which seemed a novelty to them.

After a voyage of 125 days, Asia (1) (5) arrived at Port Jackson on 13 January 1830. Mortality during the passage was comparatively low: two deaths were recorded at sea—Rose Maguire, who died of dysentery, and Mary Henry, whose death was attributed to erysipelas. Shortly after the vessel anchored in Port Jackson, a third convict, Mary Burn, also died. As was customary upon arrival in the penal colony, the female convicts, including Eliza, were subjected to a medical inspection and subsequently mustered on board under the supervision of the Colonial Secretary.

During this muster, the information recorded in the ship’s indent was formally verified. Eliza was described as 5 feet 3 inches in height, with a ruddy complexion marked by pockmarks and freckles, hazel eyes, and dark brown hair. Her occupational classification was recorded simply as “All Work,” a broad designation commonly applied to female convicts without a specialised trade, indicating general domestic labour capacity.

Upon disembarkation, the 197 surviving women entered a colonial society in which the gender imbalance was pronounced, with men significantly outnumbering women. Their arrival at Sydney Cove attracted considerable attention, as the periodic landing of female convicts was closely observed in a settlement where the scarcity of women shaped both social dynamics and patterns of marriage. For many male inhabitants of the colony, even a modest influx of transportees was regarded as materially increasing the prospects for marriage and domestic establishment within the expanding penal settlement.

 

Authors Note: The Convict Ships with a number on end represented the number of voyages transporting convicts for that ship, i.e., Eliza II (4), four trips)

Eliza Somers indent 1830.

Upon arrival in the colony, Eliza Somers was assigned to Hyde Park Barracks, the principal government depot for newly landed convicts. After an acclimatisation period of approximately thirteen days, she was placed in service as a domestic servant on 26 January 1830. Her employer was Mr Reuben Chapman, an ironmonger who operated a shop in lower Pitt Street, Sydney. Eliza both worked and resided within the Chapman household on Harrington Street, in the area now encompassed by Circular Quay.

Contemporary press coverage provides further insight into the circumstances of the women’s arrival. In its issue of 3 February 1830, The Sydney Monitor reported on the condition of the recently disembarked female convicts, noting the limited clothing with which many had arrived, in some cases consisting of little more than a single gown. Such observations appear to diverge, at least in part, from the more favourable assessments recorded in the ship surgeon’s journal, thereby suggesting a disparity between official medical reporting and public commentary regarding the material state of the transportees upon their landing in New South Wales.

 

On Tuesday week one hundred and ninety-nine women were landed at the Dock Yard from the 'Asia'. Out of this number, eighty were assigned, although the whole had been applied for; so desolate a set of women never landed from any ship. Some of them were even without shoes; how is this? It is at all events a strange contrast to cargoes of this sort: disembarked into the Colony for the last eighteen years, to our, knowledge. Who is to be accountable for rags and shoe-less feet, the Captain, the Doctor, or the Home Government? Male Convicts without exceptions, are landed in the clothing which is provided for them by the Crown; on the other hand, females, while their slops are given to them with due honesty, have been allowed to land in the best clothes they may happen to bring with them: Our attentive authorities will doubtless look into these things if the churn and the cheese press are not too much in exercise to prevent them. 

Reported also in the 'The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser', Saturday 30th January 1830, commented on the quality of the Irish women who had arrived on-board the 'Asia' and the preference of the new town aristocracy in the choice of house servants;

The female prisoners per the Asia, who were landed on Tuesday last, eighty-one were sent off to the Factory; the rest were assigned. It is somewhat strange that, as we are told, had this been an English, and not an Irish ship, the number of applications for women servants would far have exceeded, the supply. But the fact is, people, give a decided preference to English women as house servants.

Eliza one of the eighty who were assigned was lucky. 

On 1 July 1830, Reuben Chapman obtained a publican’s licence for the Crown and Angel hotel, situated in Harrington Street near what is now Circular Quay, Sydney. Within this setting, Eliza continued to perform her assigned domestic duties in accordance with her convict placement, combining service within the household and the demands associated with a licensed premises.

In close proximity to the Chapman establishment resided Mr and Mrs Baxter, who were prominently associated with the Australian Subscription Library on Lower Pitt Street, an institution that would later contribute to the foundations of what became the Fairfax publishing enterprise. Among those assigned to the Baxters’ service was Thomas Wade, an Irish convict, whose placement reflects the broader system of labour assignment that integrated transported prisoners into both domestic and commercial households within early colonial Sydney.

Thomas Wade, born in Dublin in 1812, was transported to New South Wales following his conviction for house robbery. At the age of sixteen, he was tried at the Four Courts in Dublin on 3 July 1828, a notably young age at which to face such a serious charge. His trajectory closely paralleled that of many Irish juvenile offenders of the period, whose crimes were adjudicated within a penal system that frequently imposed transportation as a primary sentence.

Like Eliza Somers, Wade was sentenced to transportation to New South Wales, in his case for life. He embarked aboard the transport ship Fergusson, commanded by Captain John Groves, with Surgeon Superintendent Charles Cameron responsible for the medical oversight of both crew and prisoners. The vessel departed Ireland on 16 November 1828, carrying 214 Irish male convicts. After a voyage of several months, the ship arrived at Port Jackson on 26 March 1829, where Wade, along with the other prisoners, was formally received into the colonial convict system.

 

Thomas Wade was described in the convict indents as standing 5 feet 4 inches in height, with a ruddy complexion, dark brown hair, and blue eyes. He was seventeen years of age when he arrived at Sydney Cove aboard the Fergusson in March 1829. His landing was formally recorded at a muster conducted on 28 March 1829 under the authority of Colonial Secretary Alexander McLeay, in accordance with standard colonial administrative procedure for newly arrived convicts.

As with most convict transports of the period, the voyage of the Fergusson was marked by the persistent threat of disease, which constituted one of the principal hazards of long-distance maritime transportation. Epidemic illnesses, poor ventilation, and overcrowded conditions frequently endangered both prisoners and crew. Nevertheless, the presence of a Surgeon Superintendent was intended to mitigate such risks, and improved medical supervision during the late 1820s contributed to comparatively lower mortality rates on many voyages.

In his journal, Surgeon Superintendent Charles Cameron recorded the medical management of the prisoners during the passage, noting both the prevalence of common shipboard ailments and the relative effectiveness of the treatments administered. His account emphasised the resilience of the convicts and the sustained efforts of the ship’s medical staff, whose preventative measures and therapeutic interventions were instrumental in preserving the health of the prisoners under the demanding conditions of the voyage to New South Wales.

 

There is given an account of severe scurvy which broke out among the convicts on board the 'Ferguson' transport, on her passage from Ireland to New South Wales, and which threatened to depopulate the crew till fortunately it was checked by a solution of nitrate of potash in a mixture of vinegar and lemon juice. The convicts 216 in number were embarked on the coast of Ireland in 1828 and were then in a low state of health, from deficient nourishment and the depressing passions. Bad weather was experienced on the early part of the voyage, and the convicts suffered greatly from seasickness. Their constitutions were thus still farther debilitated, and before the ship crossed the equator, the hospital was full of scorbutic patients, and many others were confined to bed in a dangerous state. Dysentery, however, was the most prominent feature or form, and affections of the lungs was also very common. Two of the of the men died of the scorbutic dysentery. When they were preparing to bear away for Rio Janeiro in order to procure refreshments for the sick, Mr Cameron tried an old remedy recommended by Patterson many years ago, in his treatise on Scurvy - namely nitre. The common stock of this being soon exhausted, a supply was soon procured from the gun-powder on board. The effects Mr. Cammeron describes as almost miraculous so much so that they abandoned the idea of putting into Rio and pursued their course to New South Wales where the convicts landed in unusual good health.

Thomas Wade's Indent

The convict muster for the Fergusson also reveals the presence of several prisoners significantly younger than Thomas Wade. Although Wade, at seventeen, was regarded within the legal framework of the period as sufficiently mature to bear full criminal responsibility, a number of transported convicts were scarcely beyond childhood. Among them were Hugh Gallagher, aged twelve; Matthew Cannon, Bernard Neil, and Samuel Johnstone, each aged fourteen; and Patrick Crowe and Daniel Mullin, both aged fifteen.

Their inclusion underscores the penal practices of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, during which juvenile offenders were routinely subjected to the same judicial processes and sentences as adults. In the absence of a distinct juvenile justice system, boys convicted of property offences were frequently sentenced to transportation and confined alongside adult prisoners during the voyage and subsequent assignment. The presence of such young convicts aboard the Fergusson thus illustrates the severity of contemporary penal policy and the harsh social conditions that contributed to juvenile criminality, as well as the expectation that even adolescents would endure the rigours of transportation and penal labour in New South Wales.  

Notwithstanding his sentence of transportation for life, Thomas Wade appears to have formed a personal attachment that provided a measure of emotional stability within the constraints of convict existence. His circumstances brought him into contact with Eliza Somers, who had recently been assigned to service within the Chapman household. Within the restrictive and often precarious environment of early colonial Sydney, such associations between assigned convicts were not uncommon and could offer limited social support amid the hardships of penal servitude.Eliza, approximately three years Wade’s senior, shared with him not only Irish origins but also the broader experience of transportation and institutional discipline. In the social context of the convict system, differences in age were of little practical consequence when weighed against shared status and circumstance. It is conceivable, though not demonstrable from surviving records, that their acquaintance may have predated their transportation, given their common origins in Dublin’s impoverished districts. Should this have been the case, their renewed association in the colony would represent a continuity of social ties rather than a chance colonial encounter. In either instance, their developing relationship may be understood as a form of companionship that mitigated, to a limited extent, the isolation and severity inherent in the convict labour system of New South Wales.

Eliza’s period of assignment within the Chapman household was characterised by repeated disciplinary infractions and administrative intervention, reflecting the instability that often marked the service of female convicts in private employment. Within only a few months of her placement, she was brought before the colonial authorities and, in April 1830, was charged with drunkenness. As a consequence, she was returned to the Parramatta Female Factory, either at the request of her employer or by order of the magistracy. Shortly thereafter, she was again cited for drunkenness and disorderly or “outrageous” conduct, offences that resulted in her confinement in the Factory as a third-class prisoner for a period of one month, the lowest classification and one associated with punitive labour and restricted privileges.

Following her release, Eliza was reassigned to the Chapman household; however, her difficulties in maintaining stable service persisted. By August 1830, after approximately seven months under assignment, her master formally dismissed her, and she was once more returned to the Female Factory, this time classified as a second-class prisoner and confined for a further month. Such reclassification indicates a disciplinary progression within the Factory’s internal hierarchy, which regulated labour, rations, and behavioural oversight.

It was during this unsettled period of confinement and reassignment that Eliza became aware of her pregnancy. The child’s father was Thomas Wade, with whom she had formed an attachment within the colony. Pregnancy among assigned female convicts was not uncommon and frequently intersected with the already precarious nature of their employment and institutional supervision.

Upon completion of her term of confinement, Eliza was again returned to the Chapman household for service. At this time she was pregnant and therefore confronted the dual pressures of continued convict assignment and impending motherhood, circumstances that underscored the particular vulnerabilities faced by female convicts within the social and administrative structures of early colonial New South Wales.

 

Anne Gordan, Matron
of Female Factory,
Parramatta.
1827-36.

Contrary to later assumptions that portray Reuben Chapman as a supportive or benevolent employer, the available evidence indicates a more contentious relationship between master and servant. Contemporary descriptions characterise Chapman as a difficult and combative figure, and by 28 September 1830 he formally returned Eliza to the Parramatta Female Factory on the grounds that her services were no longer required. This administrative action suggests a termination of her assignment rather than any continued paternal obligation on his part.

 

Claims that Chapman subsequently supported Eliza, including the payment of medical expenses associated with her pregnancy, are not substantiated by the documentary record. Under the regulatory framework governing convict assignment in New South Wales, the return of a servant to government custody—particularly by order of a magistrate, as appears to have occurred in Eliza’s case—effectively released the employer from ongoing financial and supervisory responsibility.
 

Her classification as a first-class inmate upon readmission to the Female Factory is administratively significant. While first-class status did not denote privilege in a modern sense, it indicated a reassignment within the Factory’s internal system following the cessation of private service. In practical terms, Chapman’s decision to return Eliza to government control formally transferred her maintenance, medical oversight, and confinement back to the colonial authorities, thereby severing any expectation that he would bear the costs associated with her impending confinement and childbirth.

 

Direct it to be notified, that, in future, persons to whom Convicts are assigned or lent, shall be required to defray all expenses attending their return to Government, excepting only in such cases as they shall be committed for Trial, or ordered by one or more Magistrates to be punished for some offence". "Felons convicted in a summary way of disorderly conduct shall be liable, if males, to be kept to labour on the roads or other public works, or be publicly whipped; or, if Females, to be committed to the Penitentiary or third class of the Female Factory, and there kept to hard labour.

Eliza’s recurrent charges for drunkenness and associated misconduct, together with the practical complications arising from her pregnancy, appear to have contributed directly to the termination of her assignment within the Chapman household. Her return to the Parramatta Female Factory marked the end of her domestic service under Chapman’s supervision. Reuben Chapman later removed from Sydney; by September 1832 he had relocated to Hobart, where he acquired another licensed hotel.

Female Factory, 2018.
My Photo.

Ration distribution for Female Convicts and their Children at Parramatta.

1st Class included - Those women employed at the factory or awaiting assignment. Those who were homeless and those who had been returned from assignment without complaint and who were eligible for immediate reassignment. They were employed at spinning and carding and similar occupations.

2nd Class (Probationary) - Those returned from assignment because of bad behaviour and those being promoted from 3rd class or demoted from 1st class. They were employed at the same work as the 1st Class but could not be assigned to private service. Females who became pregnant while in service were included in the 2nd Class.

3rd Class-   These women were kept at hard labour such as breaking stones. They may have been deprived of tea and sugar, may have been placarded or had their heads shaved.

The above list is of Eliza's misdemeanors,

 which contributed to Eliza's continuous return to Parramatta 

and eventual dismissal from the Chapman's.

Within the expanding settlement of early Sydney, Thomas Wade’s prior arrival in the colony likely afforded him a degree of familiarity with its geography and social environment that may have assisted Eliza in adjusting to colonial life. Their respective placements—Eliza with the Chapmans in Harrington Street and Wade under assignment to the Baxter household in nearby Lower Pitt Street—placed them in close physical proximity, a circumstance that would have facilitated personal contact despite the supervisory structures of the convict assignment system.
Their association culminated in the birth of a son, Thomas Wade, on 24 April 1831. 

 

While later narratives have occasionally implied that Wade might have freely absented himself from his assigned service to maintain this relationship, such assumptions are difficult to reconcile with the strict regulatory regime governing convicts. Assigned servants, particularly those in reputable households such as that of the Baxters, were subject to close oversight, and unauthorised absence could result in immediate punishment. Surviving records indicate that on 1 December Wade was confined on the Sydney Harbour hulk Phoenix, before being released later that month, a period of incarceration that may reflect disciplinary action consistent with the enforcement practices of the time rather than any prolonged desertion of duty.

The documentary record is largely silent regarding the personal nature of Eliza and Wade’s relationship, leaving their emotional attachment open to interpretation. Some later accounts, often unsupported by rigorous archival evidence, portray Wade as having abandoned Eliza upon learning of her pregnancy. Such claims must be treated with caution. Under colonial law, marriage between convicts required official sanction, typically necessitating the Governor’s permission, and was subject to administrative scrutiny. In practical terms, the legal and institutional constraints imposed upon transported prisoners rendered the formalisation of such unions difficult, if not unlikely, thereby limiting their relationship to an informal companionship shaped by the conditions of convict life.

 

Fr. John Joseph Thierry

Thomas Wade, Eliza’s infant son, was baptised at St Mary’s Catholic Church on 6 May 1831. The rite was officiated by Father John Joseph Therry (often rendered “Thierry” in later accounts), a priest born in County Cork in 1791 who served as the principal Catholic cleric in early Sydney and ministered to a Catholic population commonly estimated at around 10,000. He later died at Balmain in 1864. The baptism was likely witnessed by Thomas Wade himself and by Eliza’s sister, Catherine De Laney, who had also been transported to New South Wales.

Catherine De Laney arrived in the colony with her only child aboard the Forth II, commanded by Captain James Robertson, with Surgeon Superintendent Joseph Cook responsible for medical oversight during the voyage. The vessel anchored at Port Jackson on 12 October 1830. Catherine had been transported from Dublin under a sentence of seven years for shoplifting. On arrival, she was assigned to Mr Bettington, a shipwright with premises at Cockle Bay, an area now encompassed by the Darling Harbour precinct.

Warrants of the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland for Catherine Delany 1830

Catherine Delany's Indent. Note her sister Eliza Somers. (Summers)

Catherine Delany would find solace in the colony, marrying John Wynn, a 'Ticket of Leave' holder, on June 29, 1836, in Parramatta. She earned her 'Certificate of Freedom' just under a year later, on June 24, 1837.

Catherine De Laney and her husband John settled in the Maitland district close to Samuel Clifts residence where Eliza gained employment hosekeeping. John Wynn, a hawker or travelling merchant would through marriage also become associated with Eliza Somers and Benjamin Hall. It was in Maitland, plausibly within Catherine’s household or Clifts residence that Ben Hall was born in May 1837. (No record exsists other than family comment by Hall himself and his great grandson Benjaming Hall.) Catherine’s life in the colony was relatively brief, and she died at Maitland in 1847. The subsequent fate of the child she had brought with her to New South Wales aboard the Forth II is not clearly documented in surviving records.

John Wynn

By the end of 1831, documentary references to Eliza’s association with Thomas Wade largely ceased. The geographical separation between the Parramatta Female Factory and the Sydney district would, in practical terms, have limited opportunities for regular contact, particularly given the restrictions placed upon convicts under assignment or institutional confinement. In contrast, Wade’s circumstances appear to have gradually improved. In May 1841 he was granted a Ticket of Leave, permitting a degree of controlled freedom within a specified district, and in 1847 this was superseded by a Conditional Pardon issued under the governorship of Sir Charles FitzRoy.

The later years of Wade’s life are only partially recoverable from the archival record. In 1857 he married Bridget Hilton, a widow aged thirty-nine, at Port Macquarie, where his occupation was recorded as a sawyer, a common trade among emancipated or conditionally pardoned convicts in timber districts. No documentary evidence has been identified to suggest that he subsequently reunited with his son, Thomas. Records indicate that Wade resided in the Port Macquarie region from at least the early 1840s, and his death was registered in 1866 at Walcha, New South Wales, a township situated inland from the Hunter and New England districts with which his earlier life in the colony had been geographically connected.

Thomas Wade, 16th May 1841.

Thomas Wade, 1st February 1848.

Following her return to the Parramatta Female Factory on 4 October 1830, Eliza Somers remained within the institution during the latter stages of her pregnancy, her classification as a first-class inmate indicating comparatively improved conditions and labour expectations with other pending mothers within the Factory. On 24 April 1831 she gave birth to her son, Thomas, and continued to reside at the Factory until she was reassigned to private service in accordance with colonial labour allocation requests and practices.

Her subsequent placement was with Mr William Panton, a free settler who had arrived in New South Wales aboard the Andromeda in 1822. At Stonequarry, Eliza found herself employed as a domestic servant under the supervision of Mrs Panton, who was herself a mother of an infant child. Stonequarry, also known as the Cowpastures in the 1820s and '30s, was located roughly in the area between today's Camden and Picton. The land acquired by the Pantons was commonly known as the 'Forest of Bumbalo' or 'Bomballowa'. This land would later become the town of Picton, officially gazetted in 1841. Nevertheless, this period of assignment proved significant in shaping the next phase of her life in the colony.

 

It was during her service in June 1832, that Eliza became acquainted with Benjamin Hall.

While at Stonequarry (Picton), Eliza’s association with Benjamin Hall appears to have deepened, and by late September 1832 she was again pregnant. On 13 May 1833, when approximately seven months pregnant, her name was published in the New South Wales Government Gazette as having absconded from the service of William Panton, an offence that constituted a breach of the regulations governing assigned servants.

Following her apprehension, Eliza was returned to the Parramatta Female Factory, at that time heavily pregnant with her second child fathered by Benjamin Hall. Despite the formal notice of absconding, there is no clear evidence that she was subjected to additional prosecution beyond her recommittal to the Factory, a response consistent with administrative rather than judicial handling of many such infractions involving female convicts.

Thereafter, Eliza and her two children remained at the Female Factory for a period, reflecting the common practice of retaining convict mothers and their infants within the establishment until reassignment or further administrative direction. During this time, Benjamin Hall, who by then enjoyed the relative freedoms afforded to a Ticket-of-Leave holder, would have been able to visit Parramatta, notwithstanding the considerable distance—approximately thirty miles—from the Stonequarry district, a journey that, while demanding, was not uncommon in the context of early colonial movement between rural assignments and administrative centres. 

 

Note: William Panton, in March 1836 with his family, left NSW on the Ship 'William' for Scotland. Though his family made landfall in Scotland, William died and was buried at sea off the Ascension Islands on 3 June 1836.

NSW Government Gazette, May 1833. Eliza absconds from Panton. Note spelling of surname and complexion.

The Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser would have likely included a notice or report regarding the growing issue of assigned female servants being returned to the Female Factory shortly after assignment. This notice underscored a need for reforms in the way convicts were treated and managed, leading to new conditions for return and changes in policies.

New South Wales Government Gazette Wed 30 May 1832

Parramatta Female Factory, 1826.
Painting by
Augustus Earle (1793-1838)
Courtesy National Library.

ASSIGNED FEMALE SERVANTS-THE COMMITTEE of MANAGEMENT of the FEMALE FACTORY have observed, with great regret, how speedily a portion of the Female Convicts assigned from the ship, on their arrival from Europe, are returned to Government and sent to the Factory at Parramatta. It has fallen within their observation that, in many cases, those persons have been returned for awkwardness or misbehaviour, which would be noticed by a gentle reproof in free servants. The facility with which an assigned servant may be returned to Government has, doubtless, favoured the injurious practice of which the Committee complain. To remedy it, in some measure, the Committee are authorised, by His Excellency the Governor, to require, in future, that all persons receiving Female Servants, on assignment, shall enter into an engagement, under a penalty of forty shillings, to keep them for one month in their service, unless removed therefrom by due course of law. If at the expiration of that period, they shall desire to return their servants, they will be bound if residing in any part of the County of Cumberland to leave a written notice at the office of the Principal Superintendent of Convicts in Sydney and to retain the Servant for fourteen days from the service of that notice. Persons residing without the County of Cumberland will be required to give one month's notice to the Clerk of the Bench of Magistrates nearest their residence.

This time is required to enable the Principal Superintendent of Convicts and Committee to make arrangements for the transfer of the Female to another service without being sent to the Factory. The Committee take this opportunity of asserting their readiness, at all times, to assign any Female in the Factory, not under a Colonial sentence of imprisonment, to persons of good moral character; and if the supply of those Women, whose conduct offers a fair chance of their becoming useful servants, should at any time be unequal to the demand, the Committee would willingly assign those, of whose conduct it would, at the same time, be their duty to make an unfavourable report.

It might happen that virtuous example and regular habits in a private family would operate more powerfully in reclaiming an individual from vice than the most judicious regulations when applied to numbers in a public establishment. For reasons somewhat similar, and from having observed the change which new modes of life, and the accession of new duties, sometimes operate in the character and disposition, the Committee are at all times disposed to favour the marriage of these Women to persons in the circumstances to maintain them honestly.

Parramatta Female Factory,

S. MARSDEN. M. ANDERSON J. S. WRIGHT

May 29th, 1832.

 

Administrative concern regarding the repeated return of assigned female convicts to the Parramatta Female Factory appears to have informed broader efforts within the colonial system to stabilise patterns of assignment. The Factory functioned not only as a place of punishment but also as a labour depot and a marriage opportunity, thereby placing a logistical and financial burden on the colonial administration with frequent recommittals. Consequently, authorities increasingly emphasised the practical advantages of retaining women in private service, where their labour directly contributed to household and economic productivity, or where the prospect of marriage was encouraged.

This administrative perspective aligned with contemporary notions of rehabilitation, whereby assignment to domestic service was viewed as a mechanism for social regulation and gradual integration into colonial society. Marriage reduced the ongoing government housing costs. Therefore, retaining convict women in stable households reduced institutional overcrowding and was believed to encourage improved behaviour through structured employment. Such considerations extended not only to women still under sentence but also to those nearing emancipation, for whom continued placement in service could provide a transitional framework that lessened the risk of destitution and recidivism.

The marriage of Eliza, a Catholic, to Benjamin Hall, a Protestant, in a Protestant church likewise reflects the practical realities of colonial life rather than strict adherence to denominational boundaries. In early New South Wales, the availability of clergy, administrative convenience, and legal requirements often outweighed sectarian preference, particularly for convicts and former convicts whose circumstances were shaped by institutional oversight rather than personal choice. Religious difference, while socially recognised, was frequently subordinated to the immediate necessity of formalising unions within the regulatory framework of the colony.

Their marriage was officiated by the Reverend Samuel Marsden, a prominent Anglican clergyman, magistrate, and leading figure in the ecclesiastical and administrative life of early New South Wales, who was also associated with the Church Missionary Society. Marsden’s reputation for severity in his magisterial role, which later earned him the sobriquet “the Flogging Parson,” reflects the dual religious and judicial authority exercised by senior clergy in the colony. His involvement in the ceremony does not necessarily imply any personal connection to the couple, but rather underscores his central institutional position within the colonial religious establishment.

The granting of consent for the marriage by Governor Sir Richard Bourke is consistent with established colonial regulations, under which convicts were required to obtain official permission before marrying. Such petitions were assessed administratively, with approval often contingent upon character, employment stability, and the perceived suitability of the match.

In this context, the marriage of Benjamin Hall and Eliza Somers may be understood as a significant stabilising moment in Eliza’s colonial life. Formal union provided a measure of social legitimacy and domestic security, particularly important for a female convict with children, and likely contributed to a reduction in her subsequent contact with the penal and disciplinary apparatus of the colony. More broadly, the marriage reflects the pathways through which former and serving convicts could transition toward more settled domestic lives within the evolving social structure of early New South Wales.

NSW Government Gazette, January 1834, absconding from Barker's.

Application to Marry

Marriage Certificate of Eliza Somers and Benjamin Hall, Benjamin
signed his name whereas Eliza made her mark X. Benjamin is recorded F, as Free
and Eliza, B, as Bonded.

St John's Parramatta
c. 1830's.

The discrepancy between Benjamin Hall's stated age at his marriage and his real birth year could be due to a few factors. It's possible that Hall was not entirely sure of his birth year and gave an estimate. It could also be that he intentionally reported a different age for personal or legal reasons.

It's also interesting that Eliza was unable to sign her own name, which highlights that she was illiterate or had very limited education. This was not uncommon for women of her socioeconomic status and convict background during this time period.

While in Parramatta Benjamin Hall made the acquaintance of one Thomas Simon a carter and publican where Hall gained employment.

The fact that Thomas Simon was a witness at their wedding is also noteworthy. Given his status as an ex-convict who had earned a Ticket of Leave, it's possible that Simon was a friend to Hall.

Thomas Simon, advertisement
1834.

It is also worth mentioning that during the early colonial era in Australia, the convicts often formed supportive communities, helping each other find work, navigate the legal system, and generally adjust to life in the colony. Given this context, it's possible that Hall and Simon's relationship was a part of this wider network of mutual assistance among convicts and ex-convicts.

The relationship between Thomas Simon and Benjamin Hall demonstrates the importance of social networks in the early colonial period in Australia. As a carrier and later a publican, Simon would have been well connected in the Parramatta-Windsor district. His association with Benjamin Hall likely offered Hall significant opportunities, both in terms of employment and monetary support to Eliza and the children.

Thomas Simon
Publican.

Benjamin Hall, working closely with Simon established his own connections within the community, both with local landowners and farmers as well as other patrons of Simon's the 'Duke of Wellington Hotel'. No doubt contacts for job opportunities which was critical for ex-convicts.

Moreover, Hall's later return to the Hunter Region, a familiar territory for him, was facilitated by these connections

The fact that the Simons were witnesses at Hall's wedding also indicates a close friendship and mutual respect between the two men. This camaraderie could have been born out of shared experiences as ex-convicts and the challenges they faced in building new lives for themselves.

Windsor, NSW, with its fertile lands and proximity to Parramatta, seems to have been the ideal location for Benjamin and Eliza to start their new chapter. Its reputation as the food basket of Sydney, owing to the fertile flood plains around the Hawkesbury River, would have offered ample opportunities for Benjamin to use his farming experience.

Government House, Windsor,
built 1796-1800.

The challenging economic conditions during the 1800s meant many ex-convicts who had completed their sentences often struggled to make ends meet. There was no government support in housing, cost of living, and other essential needs. The burden of survival fell squarely on the individuals. This harsh reality for Benjamin and Eliza, fell to them to provide for their family.

However, the formation of benevolent asylums by compassionate and well-off citizens would have provided some relief to those in need. These asylums played a crucial role in offering support to destitute individuals, especially those who were unable to work due to old age, illness, or disability. Such institutions were early precursors to modern non governmental social welfare systems, providing food, clothing, shelter, and sometimes medical care to those in need.

Despite the challenging socio-economic conditions, Benjamin and Eliza seemed determined to build a life for their family in Windsor. Their story underscores the resilience and tenacity of many early Australian settlers, who overcame adversity to carve out a life in a new land.

Governor
Lachlan Macquarie
c. 1805.

The 'Hawkesbury Benevolent Society' was established by citizens with a heart for social welfare and supported through a variety of means, including land grants from the Governor, the raising of livestock, and various forms of fundraising such as donations, subscriptions, church collections, and fines.

The half-yearly meeting of the 'Hawkesbury Benevolent Society' was held at the Court House on July 3, 1820. Present: Wm. Cox, Esq., Rev. John Cross and others, including Robert Fitz, treasurer, and John Howe, the storekeeper. It was reported that eighteen persons had been relieved with such stores as wheat, maize, sugar, rice and salt, and also with cash, fifty-three pounds, fourteen shillings and threepence. Also, that the institution owned sixty head of cows and two calves. A close logged shingled roof dwelling had been erected for the stock-keeper, and twelve, acres of land fenced in with the necessary yards and garden. In 1832-4 this old stock-keeper's house on the Penrith road was used for a poor-house before the old asylum was built in Brabyn street.

The expansion of the 'Hawkesbury Benevolent Society' in catering to the poor led them have a cattle farm at the Liverpool Plains. It indicates the growing prosperity and scale of their operations. This move, however, evidently brought them into conflict with other powerful entities, such as the Australian Agricultural Company, indicating the complexities and challenges of land and resource management during this period.

The shift in leadership of Benevolent Society farm at the Liverpool Plains from John Gaggin to Edward Nowland, who became the superintendent of the new 'Mooki' cattle station, also suggests a time of change and adaptation for the society. It's interesting to see the connections between these individuals and later figures such as Billy Dargin, the future police blacktracker, which provides a sense of continuity and progression through this historical narrative.

In terms of the broader context, the history of the 'Hawkesbury Benevolent Society' offers a fascinating insight into early charitable efforts in colonial Australia, as well as the intersections of social welfare, agriculture, and the colonial expansion into the interior.

Despite the hardships and challenges they faced, these early settlers and ex-convicts, managed to build lives and communities in this new and often harsh landscape. Benjamin in 1846 gave the following statement.

John Gaggin
c. 1825

"I am a farmer and grazier, and reside in the district of Liverpool Plains; I was in the district in 1835; in that year I was employed by Mr. Gaggin, of the Hawkesbury Benevolent Society, to take some cattle from Windsor to Liverpool Plains; when I got to the plains, I found a man named Nowland in charge of a cattle station, he told me he was in the employ of the Benevolent Society; I saw there about 150 head of cattle, branded with the society's brand; I delivered to Nowland 50 head more. I was on the plains from 1835 to 1837, during which time I was well acquainted with the cattle of the Benevolent Society."

Great herds of fat cattle are daily driving through to take advantage, I presume, of the rise in the market. Perhaps the greater part crosses the Bulga. 

These statements, made under oath, provide a clear timeline for Benjamin Hall's activities from Windsor to the Liverpool Plains region. He was recorded there as early as 1835, not in the employ of Samuel Clift, but instead working for the Hawkesbury Benevolent Society. His job was to transport cattle from Windsor to the Liverpool Plains, where he would deliver them to Edward Nowland, who was in charge of a Mooki cattle station for the society.

Samuel Clift.
1791-1862.
Private Source.

CROWN LANDS.-His Excellency the Governor has appointed John Gaggin, Esp., of Sydenham, near Singleton, to be a Commissioner of Crown Lands within the boundaries of the Colony, and to act in and for the police districts of Patrick's Plains and Merton and Muswellbrook.) 
 

As a employee residing in the district, Hall would have been well-acquainted with the cattle of the Benevolent Society, as well as the intricacies of the cattle industry in the region. His familiarity and experience with the area would have been of significant value to his employer and may have also led to his involvement in the later court cases involving Samuel Clift. The evidence, therefore, supports the claim that Hall was working for the Hawkesbury Benevolent Society during this period and not Samuel Clift at the Doona Station.

It appeared from the evidence that the plaintiff had purchased the right of the run from a person named Merrick, in the year 1837, for £5 and a fat bullock.

The evidence, therefore, nullifies any possibility that Benjamin took an overseer placement at all with Samuel Clift at Doona and with Edward Hall's birth on the Liverpool Plains in 1836 indicates Hall's working stock for the Benevolent Society. Furthermore, court proceedings in both the 1840s and 1850s involving some trespass cases regarding Samuel Clift surfaced. It is reported that Benjamin Hall was called a witness on behalf of Mr Samuel Clift. It is through those proceeding's which categorically established Clift's procurement of Doona in late 1837. 

During those trespass cases, evidence, s

supported the fact that Benjamin Hall was indeed at Liverpool Plains in late 1835, but not in the employ of Samuel Clift, but employed in taking cattle for Mr John Gaggin of the 'Hawkesbury Benevolent Society', evidence shows that during those court proceedings, Benjamin Hall who was a witness on behalf of Samuel Clift stated;

That at a certain time he was brought to court by Merrick for having trespassed on Duono.

Benjamin Hall also gives an account of quarrelling between Eliza and Joseph Merrick, this indicates Eliza's presence on the Liverpool Plains and that the moving of the cattle from Windsor to the Liverpool Plains was effected in late 1835 and that Edward Nowland and his brother, William, (who is credited with finding the Gap in the range north of Murrurundi in 1827, others soon followed his dray tracks which opened a route to the Liverpool Plains, the Gap today is known as 'Nowlands Gap' and is on the New England Highway about 3 miles north of Murrurundi. The pass is approximately 730 meters (2,400 ft) above sea level and is surrounded by the high ground of over 1,200 meters), accompanied by Benjamin, Eliza, and the children in droving the cattle to the societies run at the Liverpool Plains. Benjamin Hall, in his court appearance, goes on to state as deponent that;

The deponent's wife had been quarrelling, and the magistrates had bound her over to keep the peace.

Another witness at the time stated;

During the time of Merrick, Hall also went up with some cattle of Mr Gaggin's, to find a station, and William and Edward Nowland accompanied him to Winda.

It was also stated of Hall's presence at Doona in 1836 that;

Hall went to Duona, stayed there some months, and was taken to court by Merrick for trespass. He went away for want of rations and left the cattle behind him.

The above statements create the hypothesis that Benjamin Hall did not take a position of employment with Samuel Clift before 1837/38, as has been espoused over the years and that in fact in 1835, Benjamin Hall commenced work with the 'Hawkesbury Benevolent Society' of Windsor to remove their cattle from Windsor to the Liverpool Plains under the direction of John Gaggin. It is also revealed during the court proceedings, where it was stated that John Gaggin was present at the Liverpool Plains;

Mr Gaggin, a member of the Society, was at the Mooki in 1836 or 1837 and saw the Society's cattle running between the Mooki river and Warrah. In January that year 1836, the society's cattle were then being removed from Phillips's station to the Mooki.

Furthermore, John Gaggin was a friend of Hall's assigned master A.B. Spark during Hall's servitude and held land amounting to 2000 acres adjacent to Spark's Hunter River property.

Spark's, Radfordslea,
John Gaggin property,
and Mudie's,
Castle Forbes. c. 1829.
Courtesy NLA.

The reason for Benjamin's departure was recorded as a 'need for ration's, but at the time the family arrived at the Plains, Eliza was once more with a child. The primitive amenities may have forced the Hall's on to Doona/Breeza runs from Phillips Creek, where some semblance of civilisation existed at the McLaughlan store on Breeza. Wherewith the help of Mrs McLaughlan, Eliza gave birth to her third son Edward in early 1836, as it was stated that;

Donald M'Laughlin had Breeza, and had cattle of his own. McLaughlan or his wife was always at Breeza and McLaughlin and his wife kept a store at Breeza from 1830 to 1837. 

Another possible reason for the families move on to Breeza is that the Aboriginal's of the district were troublesome, as stated;

The strong cattle on the Duona run fed as far as the edge of Breeza; a hut was built about half a mile down the dry creek but was subsequently removed to the oak tree, in order that the occupants might be nearer to neighbours, the blacks being then troublesome.

By the mid-1830s, Samuel Clift had consolidated a significant pastoral empire on the Liverpool Plains, acquiring expansive runs such as Doona, brought for 5 and a fat bullock, Mooki River, Breeza, and Weia Weia Creek. These holdings, totaling over 198,000 acres (80,250 hectares), became known collectively as Breeza Station. Stretching from Spring Ridge and Goran Lake in the west to the mountain ranges east of , the property stood as a symbol of Clift’s post-convict success. Although Clift—transported for fourteen years in 1817—did not reside on the station himself, he entrusted the establishment and management of the land to another emancipated convict, Benjamin Hall, around 1835.

Benjamin Hall, a skinner or butcher by trade, took up the responsibility of working Breeza Station with his wife Eliza and their growing family. Their third child, Edward, was born during this time on the station, underscoring the family’s deepening roots in the pastoral frontier. However, the Halls did not remain at Breeza long. By the mid-1836, they had returned to Maitland, where Benjamin entered Clift’s newly opened butchering enterprise, applying his trade skills in a more urban setting.

Clift's Bridge House complex

Adjacent Werris Creek

At Maitland, the Halls were provided accommodation in the servants’ quarters adjacent to Clift’s residence, where Eliza found work as a domestic servant under Clift’s wife, Ann's supervision. It was a period of relative stability and familial reunion; Eliza’s sister, Catherine Wynn, also joined them during this time, marking a rare moment when the two sisters, both formerly sentenced to transportation, could live as free women together.

The family expanded once more when Eliza gave birth to her fifth child, Benjamin Hall, in 1837—a child who would one day gain notoriety across New South Wales. Yet for Benjamin Hall Sr., the structured life of employment under another man, even one as successful as Clift, was not enough. Longing for independence and a landholding of his own, he set his sights on a promising, unclaimed stretch of land some 90 miles north of Maitland along the banks of the Barnard River.

Determined to carve out a future for his family, Hall prepared for the arduous journey into the untamed wilderness. With a bullock dray loaded with their modest belongings, and driving a small herd of cattle and horses, the family of seven—including five young children—set out on a trek that would take up to three weeks. The route led them through harsh and remote terrain, but to the Hall children, all under the age of ten, it was an adventure teeming with wonder and the promise of a better life.

Hall's Creek.
Google Earth image.

Upon arrival, the Halls chose a secluded spot near a small creek that flowed into the Barnard River. There, Benjamin built a simple homestead and began farming the land and collected the wild cattle and horses roaming the high country. The creek where they settled would eventually bear his name—Ben Hall’s Creek. Life in this isolated setting was unforgiving. Winters brought frost and snow, summers bore down with intense heat, and the mountainous terrain challenged even the most resilient settlers. Still, the family endured, driven by the dream of autonomy and ownership in a land that had once imprisoned them.

Years later, this rugged valley would be remembered not only for its brutal climate and isolation but also as the cradle of a family's transformation—from convicts and servants to self-reliant pioneers in the very heart of the New South Wales wilderness. However, life in the wilderness brought its share of heartache although unrecorded research surmises that the Hall's felt the pain of the possible death  of two infants. (Peter Bradley: Ben Hall: Stories From The Hard Road pg 9) During the time at Barnard River Eliza had a successful pregnancy and another son Robert was born c. 1839.

Remains of the
Halls Creek home.
c. 1932.
Courtesy A.A. McLellan

Once settled along the banks of the Barnard River, Benjamin Hall Sr. threw himself into the work of building a life in the wilderness. With no schooling the older children engaged in exploring, helping gather wild cattle and horses, fishing the Creek and Barnard River for bream, perch and mullet, and catching bush animals such the wonga pigeon, lyre bird's, the mountain bee-eater, parrots of numerous kinds as a supplementary food source. With little more than a crude slab hut and a few head of livestock, Benjamin began to expand the family's holdings by capturing wild cattle and horses that roamed the surrounding valleys. This pragmatic and fearless approach to farming enabled the Halls to maintain a modest but growing operation in the unforgiving terrain that would come to be known as Ben Hall’s Creek.

But the rewards of pioneering life came at a steep cost—especially for Eliza Hall. The isolation, relentless winters blanketed in snow, and searing summer heat made life on the mountainous frontier physically and emotionally draining. Despite the Halls’ resourcefulness and tenacity, it became increasingly clear that this rugged environment was unsustainable for a young family with small children and a mother longing for the warmth of the creature comforts and access to supplies other than their subsistence lifestyle. After three demanding years, the decision was made: they would seek a better life elsewhere.

In late 1841, the Hall family left Ben Hall’s Creek and journeyed across the range to Haydonton, a fledgling settlement founded by the enterprising Haydon brothers, Peter and Thomas. The Haydon's, eager to attract laborers and settlers to support their agricultural ventures, had secured a 1,000-acre land grant and subdivided it into plots for sale. The area, cradled in a long valley nourished by the Pages River, offered a fertile landscape and reliable water—an alluring contrast to the harsh and isolated uplands the Halls had left behind.

For Eliza Hall, Haydonton brought not just physical relief, but emotional renewal. The township’s developing infrastructure, its proximity to newly connected Murrurundi, and the presence of other families offered a sense of community that had long been absent. Here, she could raise her children in relative comfort, free from the bone-deep weariness of frontier survival.

Benjamin Hall land
purchase Haydonton.
Courtesy Haydon papers
Vol-3

Recognising the opportunity, Benjamin Hall Sr. became one of the first land purchasers in the new township. For £140—a sum suggesting the presence of an existing structure—he acquired a valuable two-acre parcel along the Pages River, situated at the ford where Mayne, Adelaide, and Liverpool Streets now intersect. The lot’s location, near the convergence of the Great Northern and Southern roads (present-day New England Highway), ensured both accessibility and visibility—crucial advantages for any commercial enterprise.

According to Volume 3, page 28 of the Haydon Family Papers, the purchase was made by Benjamin Hall, then a ticket-of-leave holder was recognised by locals as an experienced and independent grazier. He wasted no time transforming the modest property. The existing slab hut with a bark roof was improved and expanded into a comfortable three-room home. Soon after, Hall constructed a butcher’s shop and a blacksmith’s forge—turning the small holding into a self-sustaining hub of trade and family life.

The Halls’ new homestead quickly became a cornerstone of the community. With his experience as a skinner or butcher, Benjamin Sr. built a profitable business supplying fresh meat to the growing settlement. Meanwhile, the blacksmith’s shop supported the needs of local farmers and travellers alike. Together, these ventures provided both income and social standing—an impressive achievement for a man who had once arrived in the colony in chains.

The new dwelling on Main Street was described thus: 

In the flourishing town of Haydonton, and bounded on the north by Main-street on the east by Adelaide-street on the south by Liverpool street to the River Page on the west by that river on which are erected a snug Cottage, three rooms, Butcher's Shop, Kitchen, Blacksmith's Shop; a splendid Well of Water, communing from 10 to 15 feet of water in dry seasons; a small Orchard, Garden, Three Stock Yards, Two Gallows; and the whole is enclosed by a four-railed fence. The properties situation is eligible, having an extensive frontage, and commands the main thoroughfare to all the Northern Diggings.

Their move to Haydonton marked a turning point: from survival to prosperity, from isolation to integration. In this new chapter of their lives, the Hall family found not only a measure of comfort but also a place in the fabric of a growing township—one that would endure long after their early struggles were forgotten. However, before long Benjamin Hall would gain a nefarious reputation.

March 1841.

When the Hall family arrived in Haydonton in 1841, they joined a fledgling settlement on the cusp of transformation. At that time, Haydonton and nearby Murrurundi were modest outposts on the colonial frontier, their populations numbering in only dozens. In 1841, Murrurundi counted just 52 residents across 11 dwellings, while Haydonton was even smaller, with 22 inhabitants and a few scattered cottages. Though tiny in size, each township had at its heart a notable inn—the White Swan in Murrurundi and the White Hart in Haydonton—serving as key social hubs for locals, travelers, and drovers.

Reputed home of the
Hall family, 

Murrurundi.

However, this may

actually be 

the rented home of

Dr Hallett.

c. 1900.
Courtesy A.A. McLellan.

The Hall family's new life in Haydonton was marked by determination and enterprise. Benjamin Hall Sr., drawing on his butchering trade and frontier know-how, quickly expanded his holdings. After securing his original two-acre plot along the Pages River, he acquired a second property within the township, which he rented to the local medical practitioner, Dr. Hallett. (Hallett died 15th April 1851 aged 26) This transaction, recorded in the Haydon Family Papers (Volume 3, p. 32), reflects Hall’s rising prominence as a landholder and contributor to the town's infrastructure. It also indicates the Halls' role in the gradual formalisation of Haydonton as a functioning community with essential services.

Like many small settlers in rural New South Wales, the Halls relied on livestock as the backbone of their livelihood. Stock breeding and butchering formed the core of their income, and Benjamin Hall Sr. operated a butcher’s shop and blacksmith’s forge from his property. Yet, as the family’s fortunes rose, so too did scrutiny. By the mid-1840s, local authorities and townspeople began to raise questions about the origins of some of Hall’s cattle and horses. Rumours of theft circulated, and Benjamin Hall Sr.’s reputation grew increasingly clouded by suspicion. In a region known for its rough character and light policing, Haydonton had become something of a haven for drifters, opportunists, and small-time criminals—conditions that contributed to its reputation as a “refuge for unsavory characters,” where alcohol and disputes often spilled into public disorder.

Hall's mark.
Marriage Certificate.

Amid this turbulence, life for the Hall children—especially young Ben Hall—was shaped by both opportunity and neglect. Educational resources were almost nonexistent. Unlike his elder sister Mary, who received some schooling, Ben Hall never attended formal classes and remained illiterate for life, signing legal documents with a simple X. Murrurundi, despite being the larger of the two settlements, offered only the most rudimentary education. A former lockup keeper, Mr. James Gowan, provided informal instruction in what was more a tutoring arrangement than a proper school. In such an environment, knowledge was a luxury, and formal schooling remained out of reach for most working-class families.

Recognising this gap, Thomas Haydon, one of the township’s founders, led a campaign to establish a National School. By then, more than 120 school-aged children lived across the district, but access to education had dwindled following the departure of the previous schoolmaster, Reverend George Anderson. A supporters’ committee proposed a funding model that required each family to contribute £5 per year—a significant financial burden in a struggling agrarian economy. In addition to fees, settlers were expected to help build the schoolhouse and the schoolmaster’s residence, as government aid was minimal and slow to arrive.

Despite resistance from some quarters, the community’s efforts bore fruit. By 1851, the first formal school was established, staffed initially by Alexander Brodie and his sister, Mrs. Reid. Though too late to benefit the older Hall children, the school’s founding marked a major milestone in Haydonton’s evolution from a frontier settlement to a functioning township.

The Hall family’s years in Haydonton were ones of both ambition and tension—rising from modest beginnings to become central figures in a town still finding its footing. For Eliza Hall, it offered respite from the isolation of earlier years. For Benjamin Sr., it was a stage for success shadowed by suspicion. And for Hall children, their early character—a foundation built not on books or letters, but on stockyards, blacksmiths, and the sharp edge of frontier life.

As the settlement of Haydonton gradually matured in the 1840s, the signs of progress began to emerge—new buildings, growing families, and efforts to bring law, order, and moral restraint to what had once been a rough frontier outpost. Yet beneath this veneer of development, the town wrestled with serious social challenges, most notably the prevalence of alcohol and the influence of individuals whose reputations sat uneasily with the law.

Benjamin Hall Sr., soon became one such figure was whose early success as a butcher and grazier had given way to darker rumours. Over time, Hall Sr. had earned a notorious reputation as a skilled cattle and horse thief. Livestock theft was a persistent and costly issue in colonial New South Wales, and Haydonton—remote and lightly policed—became something of a sanctuary for stock thieves, itinerant workers, and unscrupulous dealers. Alcohol abuse only added fuel to the disorder, and drunken violence was not uncommon.

Seeking to counter these mounting social problems, Thomas Haydon—a key figure in the settlement’s foundation—established a Temperance Society in Haydonton. Though its influence was limited, Haydon remained optimistic, observing in his records,  

“The change in morals and appearance of the people is wonderful” (Haydon Family Papers, Volume 3). 

Yet for all the moral reforms and civic intentions, tensions between law enforcement and local offenders continued to simmer.

By 1845, suspicion around Benjamin Hall Sr.’s activities had reached a breaking point. Following increasing reports of missing livestock in the region and whispers of Hall’s involvement, a formal warrant was issued for his arrest on charges of horse theft. However, fate—and a loyal friendship—intervened. James Gowan, the town’s lock-up keeper and one-time informal schoolmaster, learned of the pending arrest. A friend to the Hall family, Gowan secretly warned Hall Sr. of the warrant before police could act.

Eliza Hall and their eldest son William sprang into action. In the span of a single day, they assisted Benjamin to scarper from Haydonton and head for the Lachlan region, nearly 200 miles to the south—a remote and less-regulated frontier where Hall hoped to escape both the law and his notoriety.

The consequences of this escape rippled through the community. When Gowan’s interference was discovered, he was immediately dismissed from his position. The official account bluntly noted:  

“Was dismissed from the lockup in consequence of it having been supposed that he had given or permitted an intimation to Benjamin Hall to keep out of the way.” 

His act of loyalty had cost him his livelihood and further highlighted the divided loyalties and blurred moral lines in towns like Haydonton.

In the aftermath, the Hall name became synonymous with suspicion and scandal. Prominent landowners and squatters—fed up with repeated thefts—organised themselves into formal associations to combat the wave of stock crimes sweeping the district. Among these were the Upper Hunter District Association and the Scone District Association for the Suppression of Horse, Cattle, and Sheep Stealing. These groups pooled resources, lobbied the government, and offered rewards to track down known offenders. It was part community justice, part vigilante effort.

Ten Pounds Reward. - IN addition to the rewards offered by the Government, Edwd. Hamilton, Esq., of Cassilis, and the Association at Murrurundi, for the apprehension of BENJAMIN HALL or ALEXANDER PATERSON, notorious Cattle and Horse Stealers: the Scone Association for the Suppression of Horse, Cattle, and Sheep Stealing, hereby offer the above reward, to be paid on conviction of both or either of the above-named individuals, to any person furnishing the information leading to such conviction, on application being made to the Secretary,

Mr. Bingle, of Puen Buen. 743

Benjamin Hall
Wanted.
Courtesy N.L.A.

Hall Sr.'s disappearance did not end the matter. A Wanted notice, published widely across New South Wales newspapers, offered a £15 reward for the capture of  Benjamin Hall. However, Alexander Paterson's inclusion is a misnomer. Paterson was wanted on another unrelated charge of horse stealing not linked to Benjamin Hall but appeared on the same reward notice as marked by the local landowners in the suppression of cattle and horse stealing. Paterson was captured in Sydney and returned to Maitland were he faced court. Patterson was found guilty convicted on the 19th September 1846.. He was transported to Tasmania for ten years onboard the Louisa.

HORSE STEALING. - Alexander Paterson was indicted for stealing a mare and foal, the property of George Forbes, at Murrurundi A second count charged the mare and foal as being' the property of Edward Baker. The jury retired, and after being absent for three quarters of an hour, returned a verdict of guilty and the prisoner was remanded for sentence. - The Citizen 26th September 1846. 

 

An additional ten pounds was offered by the infuriated landowners. The government-backed pursuit marked the beginning of a more organised crackdown on stock theft across the colony.

For Hall the sudden relocation to the Lachlan region was more than a change of scenery—it was an attempt at reinvention, escape, and perhaps survival. Yet the shadow of Haydonton followed him. The legacy of that flight would echo for decades to come, especially in the life of Benjamin Hall Jr., who would later walk a darker path shaped in part by the choices—and the betrayals—of his father’s past.

On fleeing Haydonton under threat of arrest, Benjamin Hall Sr. had spent nearly two years in hiding, sheltered on the farm of Mr. Hugh Hamilton near the Lachlan River outside Forbes. The isolated property, far from colonial scrutiny, offered temporary safety. But the long arm of justice eventually reached even the most remote corners of the bush.

While Benjamin was in hiding on the Lachlan under the assumed name—reputedly Jack Binding, according to his son William—life continued for Eliza and the children: Thomas, Wade, Mary, William, Edward, Ben, Catherine, and Robert. That same year, they welcomed a new addition to the family: a son named Henry, who was christened at St Joseph’s.

Despite her challenges, Eliza kept the family running. With babe in arms, and with the help of older children—Mary, Thomas, and Edward—they managed daily tasks like penning stock and selling fruit and other sundry chores from their Mayne Street home. In 1846, Eliza finally applied for and was granted her Ticket of Freedom. Although illiterate, she likely relied on the assistance of Reverend Lynch or Mr Haydon to complete the necessary paperwork. On the application, she was listed as a “seller of cows.”

There was some speculation that the old property on the Barnard River, still under Benjamin’s name, was used for agisting cattle. It’s likely that Thomas, together with Mary and William, helped drive the cattle into Murrurundi when needed.

To further supplement the family income, the butcher shop, along with a room on the property and a cottage owned by Benjamin—then rented to Dr Hallett—provided additional funds.

In October 1848, Jack Binding's luck ran out as Benjamin Hall Sr. was identified and arrested by Constable Hoy of the New South Wales Mounted Police. His capture marked the end of his long evasion and the beginning of a public reckoning. Returned to Murrurundi to face justice.

HORSE-STEALING.-A few days since trooper Hoy, of the Mounted Police, apprehended man named Benjamin Hall, at a station of Mr. Hamilton's, on the Lachlan, about 150 miles from Bathurst. A reward of £15 had been offered by the Hunter River Associstion, for the apprehension of the prisoner, who was charged with horse-stealing, and had been at large more than two years. Much praise is due to Hoy for his untiring exertions in ferreting this gentleman out.- S.M.H. 30 October 1848.

 

Police Office Monday:- Before the Police Magistrate, and D. M. Irving. Esq., J..P. Benjamin Hall was brought before the bench and charged with horse stealing, and The Magistrates-gave orders for him to be forwarded to Murrundai.- Bathurst Advocate, 28th October 1848. 

William Hall, 1910

Perhaps the most tragic consequence of Hall Sr.'s arrest was not his own fate, but the collateral damage suffered particularly by William Hall, his eldest son. Just eleven years old, William was arrested for horse theft, accused of assisting his father in the unlawful slaughter of two mares for their unbranded foals. The brutality of the act—the mares’ throats reportedly slit and left to bleed to death—further darkened the Hall name.

 

Imprisoned alongside adult offenders, young William endured conditions no child should have faced. However, William was transported to Parramatta Goal while waiting his trial and attended to by the Sisters of Charity. According to Thomas Blair, Clerk to the Court, prior to being sent to Sydney the boy was frequently seen crying in fear and misery, overwhelmed by the grim reality of his confinement. His fear was magnified by the presence of Taylor, a hardened man and one of his father's known accomplices. Sharing the same cramped cell, Taylor’s brooding silence and criminal reputation cast a constant shadow over the terrified child.

Yet it was not the damp stone walls or threats from hardened criminals that broke William’s spirit most—it was the rejection by his own mother. In a desperate effort to unburden himself and perhaps find mercy, William broke the old convict code of silence, revealing what he knew about his father’s crimes. The breach was seen as a betrayal.

Eliza Hall, loyal to her husband and steeped in the cultural expectations of convict secrecy, abandoned her son. From that moment on, the mother and son were estranged—a tragic fracture that neither time nor circumstance would ever heal. William’s tears in his prison cell were not only for his fears but for the mother who had turned her back on him. (See Ben Hall part 1.)

The boy cried very much through fear; he was kept there some days. Means had been used to intimidate the boy by placing him in a dark room, the windows of which had been boarded up for the purpose of darkening it, and his mind being overcome by terror at being shut up in a dark place (in which a death, too, had occurred), he was put beside Taylor, who had succeeded, apparently, in moulding him to his purpose.The boy was kept by himself for three or four days, after the boy gave information his mother utterly refused to send him anything, although she had sent him food previously; food and clothes were then given him by witness. - Maitland Mercury 1846.

While Benjamin Sr. was in on the Lachlan, Eliza Hall was left to hold together the fraying threads of the family’s life. With limited means and dwindling prospects, she and the remaining children turned to whatever work they could find. The family began to sell vegetables and fruit, butchered livestock, and trade what remained of their stock and store to survive.

These were years of profound struggle. The family, once central to Haydonton’s early growth, was now broken—scattered by arrests, stigma, and the hard lessons of frontier justice.

Benjamin Hall arrested
30th October 1848
at Hamilton's station.
Courtesy NLA.

After his arrest, Benjamin Hall was taken back to Murrurundi under lock and key and placed in the local lock-up. His wife, Eliza, actively pursued efforts to secure his release. In a fortunate turn of events for the Hall family, both key witnesses in the original horse theft case died before trial, causing the government's case to collapse. Benjamin Hall was subsequently released.

Despite being absent from his family for two years, Benjamin remained determined to resettle in the Lachlan district, believing the region held promise. A.A. McLellan in his book Benjamin Hall and Family speculates that in the later half of 1849 Benjamin returned to the Lachlan alone. However, that is doubtful. A two hundred mile ride, his 1849 legal issues over his absconding and being wanted and then with Eliza pregnant with their last child Ellen, to ride south after his two year absence is illogical. Benjamin would have been fully aware of the prospects on the Lachlan. But the opportunity to resettle there would have played on his mind therefore in 1850 he made efforts to uplift the family to the vast Lachlan Plains. It was a decision that would later carry tragic consequences. He urged Eliza to uproot once more and make the arduous two-hundred-mile journey south to the Lachlan, where land was cheap and new pastoral runs were being opened regularly. Benjamin saw an opportunity in the open country, ideal for raising cattle and horses.

However, the prospect caused friction between the couple. Eliza, pregnant with their final child, Ellen, refused to leave the security and comfort of their established Murrurundi home for a rough life on the frontier, especially with a newborn to care for. The tension between them grew.

Undeterred, Benjamin made the decision in 1850 to return to the Lachlan alone—taking four of their children with him: Mary (the eldest), William, Thomas Wade (also known as Hall), and the youngest, 13-year-old Ben Hall. Supplies were assembled, and a modest number of cattle and horses were readied for the journey.

In the summer of 1850, the group departed, bidding farewell to Eliza and the remaining children: Edward, Robert, Henry, Catherine, and newborn Ellen. The departure created a lasting rift between Benjamin and his eldest son, Edward, who resented being left behind—especially since his father had chosen the younger Ben as a travelling companion and, seemingly, a favoured son.

The small party drove their livestock through the Hunter Valley, passing by Singleton and the notorious Castle Forbes. Their route continued through Whittingham, Jerry’s Plains, Cassilis, and Dubbo, eventually bringing them to the Black Ridge area in the Lachlan district, near what would later become Forbes.

During the journey, Benjamin took time to register the birth of his daughter Ellen at the Whittingham Post Office, situated at the junction of the old New England Highway and the Bulga Trail (now Putty Road). The official record reads:

“Ellen E. Hall: Birth Date: 1850; Birth Place: New South Wales; Registration Year: 1850; Registration Place: Whittingham, New South Wales, Australia; Father: Benjamin Hall; Mother: Elizabeth; Volume Number: V18501899 71.”

Upon arriving in the Lachlan district, the Hall boys found employment as stockmen under pastoralist Hugh Hamilton a Scottish immigrant. They worked under the supervision of head stockman William Jones, where Ben and his brothers began developing their skills as capable and confident stock riders.

Hamilton already had a history with the Benjamin Hall, having employed Benjamin between 1846 and 1848. At that time, Hall Sr. was operating under the alias “Jack Binding” (“Bradshaw”) to avoid arrest in the Murrurundi district. Despite Hall Sr.’s legal troubles—including his October 1848 arrest by Constable Hoy of the New South Wales Mounted Police—Hamilton appeared unbothered by the family's background. He gave the Hall boys a chance, and they quickly proved themselves through their natural horsemanship and reliability. In 1847 Hamilton was promulgated as a magistrate of the colony.

Appointment. — His Excellency the Governor has appointed Hugh Hamilton, Esq., of Tomminbill, Lachlan: to be a magistrate of the territory and its dependencies.

Hugh Hamilton's leases.
Squatting Licenses, 1848.

Hamilton’s stations were located within a 25-mile radius of Forbes, and the Hall boys settled into the rhythms of rural pastoral life. Not long after their arrival, Ben Hall’s older daughter Mary married William Wright, a local stockman and ex-convict who was considerably older than her.

With his sons now gainfully employed and Mary newly married, Benjamin Hall Sr. made the decision to return to Murrurundi. By the end of 1851, he had rejoined Eliza and their remaining children—Edward, Catherine, Robert, Henry, and the youngest, Ellen.

In 1851 The son's settled in stock-work and his eldest daughter married Benjamin resumed his trade at Murrurundai as a carcass and butchering proprietor. The business' success enabled Benjamin to employ a butcher specifically for pork cuts. The scope of the business was wide handling fresh meat for the township as well as a sound passing trade. With the success of the business Benjamin dabbled in the field of horse racing. (See add Right)

Butchering provided Benjamin Hall with the financial means to pursue a local passion: Racing high-quality thoroughbred horses. His enthusiasm for racing was kindled by his ownership of several fine horses, which regularly competed at the lively and rough-and-ready Murrurundi racetrack—a vibrant hub of local racing culture.

The district’s racing scene was dominated by prominent landowners and local figures of the era, including Charles Dangar, the Single brothers (John and Frank), and Dr. Welsh, whose horse Death was a well-known crowd favourite. Other notable competitors included Mr. Butt’s Snake, W. Wightman’s Cannonball, Henry O’Neil’s Wallaby, and two of Benjamin Hall Sr.’s own horses—Jacky Jacky and Roderick: The Australian Wednesday 7 Sept 1842.

15th April 1843,
Pages River Racing.
Courtesy NLA.

A Subscription Purse was afterwards got up for a Steeple Chase. Six horses started. They wont round the farm and crossed the river twice. This was a very interesting race, and caused much merriment. Five horses came to the post, leaving their friend, Old Captain, and rider in the bed of the river, caused by a severe summer set: the race was declared in favour of Hall's, Jackey.

Through his involvement in this spirited racing circuit, Benjamin Hall was able in time mix freely in amongst the social elite. In the early period at Haydonton Benjamin's reputation grew within the community, bolstered by the prestige that came with a sound business and raising and racing thoroughbreds. The local racing culture in the 1840/50s were marked by large crowds, spirited competition, and heavy wagering, provided him with both status and belonging.

According to The Haydon Family Papers (Volume 3, p. 40), the Murrurundi Race Club course was laid out opposite the present-day school site. It ran parallel to Mayne Street toward the Royal Hotel, then turned north over Little Street before looping back to the start. Regular race meetings were held on this circuit, often under the sweltering heat, and featured strong fields and generous purses.

Within the close-knit community of Murrurundi, Benjamin Hall became a well-liked and respected figure—if not occasionally seen as a scallywag with his earlier infractions all fading with time helped by his business reputation for fair trading and for his personal charm.

For Sale 1854

However, tension persisted within the marriage of Benjamin and Eliza Hall, occasionally erupting into heated arguments. This simmering discord came to a head in 1854 when Benjamin, after failing to shift Eliza to the Lachlan, sought to improve his position by relocating to the southern outskirts of Murrurundi, where a new village was being proposed by local landowner and magistrate Henry Warland. The settlement would later become known as Blandford.

Benjamin saw opportunity in this emerging township and was eager to establish a new beginning. However, Eliza again firmly refused to leave their established home on Mayne Street, Murrurundi. Undeterred, Benjamin placed the Murrurundi property up for sale and proceeded to purchase the first allotment at Blandford—located on the southern side of the then Great Northern Road, now known now as the New England Highway.

The new property, bounded by the winding Pages River, sat in a fertile valley country flanked by gradually closing hills. It marked a significant upgrade from the Halls’ original two half-acre lots in Murrurundi, expanding to 17 acres at ten pounds per acre—a notably shrewd acquisition. - Maitland and Hunter River General Advertiser July 1854.

FIVE SMALL FARMS on Warland's Flat having a frontage to the River Page and to the high North Western Road, ranging in size from 17 acres to 29 acres. Terms at sale. Title a Grant from the Crown.

In the year 1855 Haydonton was disposed of and Blandford was taken up. However marital disharmony prevailed between Eliza and Benjamin. According to A.A. McLellan, Benjamin Hall and Family, the title deeds for Blandford came into the control of Eliza in what appeared to be a trade off. The holding of the title was possibly a way to prevent Benjamin from selling Blandford in the future. As with in 18 months of establishing Blandford Eliza and Benjamin were again at logger heads. However, on the occasion of the dust up 1856 Benjamin took out advertising in the newspaper against Eliza in what over the next years would become tit for tat warfare The advertisement expressly cautioned the public from dealing with Eliza and any debt incurred by her would not be met by Benjamin. - Maitland and Hunter River General Advertiser November 1856.

Caution.

I HEREBY caution the public from giving CREDIT to Elizabeth Hall, my wife, on my account after this date, as I will not be responsible for any debts contracted by her after this notice.

BENJAMIN HALL.

Pentlands, Murrurundi, Nov. 5, 1856. 6275

 

 

 

 

#-Reference notes and source material can be accessed on the EndNote page except where the book, author or newspaper title are named. Publications referred to can be found on the Links Page. For any research assistance, no charge, contact is on the Home Page under Contact details or Email to benhallbushranger@gmail.com. For an enhanced view of photographs, click the right mouse button and select 'open in new tab'.