Our September excursion will be on Saturday 21st, when we will attempt again to walk “The Path to Clinks”. As you might remember, this was postponed in July due to rain. We will be following the route of a 200-year-old bridle track charted on historic parish maps. It is 4 kilometres altogether, and the first half is easy walking.
But near the end of the Path is a steep descent to the Hawkesbury River – a drop of 200 metres. This is difficult walking and not recommended for anyone whose balance is unsteady. For those who are reluctant to attempt the whole walk, they might turn around halfway (or at any point before) and return to the cars.
Assistant Surveyor W. White in 1831, surveyed and charted the ridges around Maroota and above Lower Portland Head (Wisemans Ferry). His map showed the Great North Road, and some subsidiary roads that were ‘feeders’, one of them being “the Path to Clink’s” (in red below).
It was so called because it descended onto the river flats behind Adam Clink’s small eight acre grant on the Hawkesbury, downstream from Wisemans Ferry, and serviced not just Clink, but the settlers Richard Woodbury, Francis Byrnes, William Warner, William Smith and the Cobcrofts. It was a short-cut (or a ‘near-cut’ in 19th century slang) and saved them ten miles when they had to travel overland to Windsor or Parramatta, instead of going along the river through Wisemans Ferry. The Path diverges from the Great North Road at Maroota (at a place now called ‘Weavers’) and follows the ridge line above Laughtondale Creek before plunging steeply down the escarpment in a series of hairpin bends.
In the first section is a rock platform heavily engraved by the Dharug, the traditional owners, and further on, a cave decorated with stencils of weapons.
And here also are the remains of Jack Trevinna’s house and his orchard.
The first two kilometres of the path have been upgraded as an access trail for the maintenance of power pylons. We reach the pylons 2 kilometres in from the gate, and from here there are spectacular views to Mill Creek across the Hawkesbury. At this point the road ceases, and we enter the bush. This is also the point where those who wish to avoid ‘bush bashing’, should return to the parked cars.
Clink’s path was never more than a bridle trail, and has not been in use for more than a century, when it was made obsolete by the Laughtondale Gully Road. Now it is overgrown. But it is still a fairly easy walk along a ridge through grass and scattered saplings.
At the end of the ridge, we begin the Path’s steep descent to the river, emerging on Singleton Road, just above Clink’s farm. From here we will be transported back to the cars in a minivan.
Where: We will meet at the junction of the Old Northern Road, and Laughtondale Gully Road in Maroota. Just pull around the corner into the Gully Road, and park. Then we will drive to a nearby entry gate to Marramarra National Park, leave the cars, and proceed through the gate on foot.
Please bring suncream, insect repellent, water, and wear sturdy shoes, and bring lunch, if you wish. The walk might take 3 or 4 hours.
When: Saturday 21st September at 10.00am. We will have morning tea and a briefing as to where we are going and what we will see.
We will end the tour where we emerge on Singleton Road in Laughtondale, and from there we will be transported back to the cars in a minivan.
Cost: $15.00 for members and $20 for non-members.
Bookings: essential to secretary@dlhhs.org.au or 0439 265 595 . We must be able to contact everyone coming along in case of wet weather.
Please book by Tuesday 17th September.
One of our members, Diane Papandrea, has offered us her meticulously researched article on events in early Maroota. In some respects, it is a sequel to last month’s Haunted Inn article, in that Diane has found a murder mystery from that time, which might have been the origin of the tales told about the Inn. Also Diane has corrected an error in that article. “The Stone Chimneys” landmark was in fact a different ruined cottage and not the Inn, and was marked on early parish maps of Maroota on Thomas Arndell’s 600 acre grant, somewhere near the current Shell Service Station at South Maroota. It is the first ruin encountered by the traveler in her article. Enjoy!
After a hiatus of many years, a ghost from the past has led me back to Maroota, Dharug language ‘muru’, ‘meroo’, ‘mooroo’ meaning pathway or track; and ‘ta’ (a shortened version of ‘matta’) meaning place of water [1].
Pot-holes and grinding grooves at Maroota. Rock Engravings of the Sydney-Hawkesbury District.Part 2. Records of the Australian Museum [McCarthy, 1959]
To begin with, let’s saddle up the pack-horse and take a ride along the Maroota Road in 1863. It’s a lengthy one, for some ‘terra incognita’, but we’ll stop for a rest after crossing over Little Cattai Creek before continuing to ride on to Wiseman’s Ferry.
“A party having been formed to visit this locality, I joined them, and we started our trip early on a cool, pleasant morning. Clouds overspread the sky and moderated the heat of a December’s day. Our horses were in good spirits and cantered along briskly to the music of one of the party’s tin mugs or pannikins which, slung from his saddle, proclaimed at once the experienced bushman. By nine a.m. we had left Windsor, and took the Marroota Road. Henceforth to three of the four it was ‘terra incognita’ – for some distance farms bordered the road, and the view was pleasing and rural, backed by the blue line of hills, now thirteen miles distant. Away to the left lay Pitt Town and Wilberforce, but we saw nothing of either, and the country was becoming rather barren and desolate when we suddenly came upon Big Cattai Creek, a nice stream gliding between walls of high sedges, from which ran backwards green fields and clearings, dotted by cottages. Boat builders were at work on a schooner, judging by her keel which was laid. Then, again, came a sandy country, and then Little Cattai; here first appear the abrupt and rocky hills which characterise the Marroota range. Little Cattai flows through a cultivated valley of much beauty, which we crossed, and ascended the opposite hill, looking, as it proved, upon the last habitation before we reached Wiseman’s.
A lagoon and the shade of a cluster of native oaks invited us to lunch and an hour’s rest. The telegraphic line had accompanied us hitherto, sometimes cutting off a corner where the road wound and again joining the track, and we now took its more direct course up the range to avoid a curve in the road, which, I should mention, is all the way a capital one for wheels.
A marked change in the vegetation occurs from this spot – many of the hills are crowned with a dense scrub of low growing eucalypti and other shrubs; and many plants were marked to be gathered on our return. Occasional glimpses of the Blue Mountains were afforded us through breaks in the forest, and somewhat further we had a good view up the deep vale of Big Wheeney to Tomah. To the right the “Great North Road” falls into the Maroota line, which, at about 19 miles from Sydney, separates from that to Windsor, and, after a course of twenty-four miles, emerges where we first saw it. Just before this, however, the country had undergone a marked change; we had entered the Marroota Forest, well grassed, good land, clothed in timber, but almost free from scrub. Formerly this tract was apportioned out in veteran’s grants; one only appears to have made any improvements, and he must have been a man of taste, as the beautiful trees left dotting his clearing bear witness; in fact, the green meadow and park-like wood were the beau ideal of a picnic ground. The ruins of a stone cottage uttered their own sad lesson of man’s decaying hopes. On either side of the way flows, at a short distance from the road, a delightfully clear, cool stream. What could have induced the desertion of such a charming and desirable spot by all the grantees is not a little surprising. Again, came barrenness and deep wild glens, lined by precipitate rocks of a dark, almost black, sandstone, except where recently broken, or water worn. The trees, chiefly eucalypti, were low and stunted, but the scrub, even at this season, was decked with flowers, many of them new to me, and which owing to the assiduity and observations of one of my friends, on the homeward way yielded specimens, and quickly filled the wallet suspended round my shoulders. The wild and sterile character of the country increased at each mile; we were following the back-bone of a range which was perceptively rising in elevation, and the gullies consequently sinking the deeper, while the cliffs scowled in black savageness around. At five miles from Wiseman’s occurred a good patch of country, with a few acres cleared and enclosed, and a nice stone house built on it, although falling into ruins like the wooden out-houses. Years back it was the scene of a murder, and now it is a haunted house; smile not, reader – has not the traveller essayed to boil his pot in the chill fireplaces, and it turned over before his eyes? A little beyond this comes a glimpse of the river, and after a while, when the road meanders round a high cone, we catch such lovely prospects as cannot fail to delight. Far below winds the noble river … [2]”.
Album of watercolour sketches [of New South Wales], ca. 1871-1891 / by J.B. Henderson
[Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales]
In this newspaper article, the writer mentions two stone house ruins along the route. They are the only houses mentioned after crossing over Little Cattai Creek and before reaching Wiseman’s. My interest in the stone house, said to be haunted, was piqued while browsing through old newspapers about another Maroota matter (way back when). As an avid reader of real books along with other digitised reading material available on Trove and elsewhere on the internet, this paragraph about Thomas D’Arcey also became an interesting ‘aside’ at the time:
“Mr. Thomas D’Arcey, of the Branch Inn, at Wiseman’s, has nearly completed a comfortable house of accommodation at the junction of the Windsor and Dural roads, on Maroota Forest, which cannot fail of being a welcome sight to the weary and heavy laden on that cheerless and inhospitable line. We are not aware whether it is his intention to remove his license to this new site; but whether or not, we should opine that a well conducted house, with comfortable lodgings and accommodation for travellers, and yards for stock, would amply repay the outlay, and be productive of much mutual accommodation [3]”.
In recent weeks Thomas D’Arcey has again made the news, with some research revealing more about the man himself and his haunted inn at Little Maroota Forest [4]. In saying that, I’ve probably read my fair share of these ‘ghostly’ stories that appeared in the newspapers over the years, having also been down many a rabbit-hole myself looking for something apart from spooks. We all know you shouldn’t believe everything you read in the papers (that’s true), but how much of these ‘ghostly’ stories are legend and how much is truth?
In a letter to his mother in May 1841, the Rev. William B. Clarke, stationed at Parramatta, wrote: “The roads are again infested with Banditti. There are two fellows at Maroota in my district who live in the gulleys and woods and rob people at the water holes. Two fellows like them lately came up as I was watering my horse in my journey through Maroota Forest – they knew me, I believe, for instead of robbing me they gave me a drink out of their tin mugs and asked me to take tea with them. This I declined to do … [5]”.
Thomas D’Arcey, formerly of the Branch Inn at Wiseman’s Ferry, who built his own ‘house of accommodation’ at Maroota died in July 1846 [6]. A few months down the track after D’Arcey’s death, the remains of a man (basically a skeleton) were found in the bush near Maroota. There are a few items about the inquests to be found in the newspapers and an initial paragraph appeared on the 9th January 1847; WINDSOR – HUMAN BONES FOUND:
“Some day during last week, the skeleton of a man was found by an aboriginal blackfellow on Mr. Doyle’s farm run, Portland Head. The bones, which were not entire, were found near the edge of a rocky ridge, at the bottom of which was a pool of water. There was also found near the remains four copper pence, and a Crown pardon to the unfortunate victim, whose name was discovered to be Gillespie. Information having been given to the police, it was ascertained that the deceased, who was a Scotchman, had been a school-master to Mr. Joseph Kenning, M’Donald River, and that about two years ago, with a considerable sum of money in his pocket, he had wandered into the bush, where it is conjectured having missed his way he got lost and died. An inquest will be held on the remains on Saturday next, when we trust full particulars of this mysterious and awful matter will be brought to light [7]”.
Less than a week later (14th January 1847) more news was revealed :- THE HUMAN BONES
“An inquest was convened for Monday last on the remains of some human being, which were found at Mr. Doyle’s farm, Maroota, by an aboriginal blackfellow, and afterwards by the constable of the district. Four medical men (besides other witnesses) were examined, in order to ascertain whether there were any reasons to suspect that the deceased, whose name was Gillespie, had come to his death by violence or not. There was a deep split on the skull, which two of the medical men were of the opinion had been inflicted before death, while the two others thought it had been done after death. The Coroner was of the latter opinion.
In consequence of the “doctors having disagreed”, and for other reasons, the inquest was adjourned until Saturday next, when some new witnesses will be brought forward, and we shall give full particulars of the case [8]”.
For a couple of weeks all was quiet on the news-front but as word of the discovery spread, I’m guessing there was probably a ‘bit of gossip’ going on as well. The skeleton of a man was found in the bush near Maroota in 1846 (true) but was it a violent end? Was he bailed up by the banditti at the Maroota Ponds and a scuffle took place? Did he get lost in the bush and die from exposure? He wouldn’t be the only one. Perhaps he tripped and hit his head? There are a few different scenarios that could have played out, and we will never know; but a seed of doubt may already have been sown due to the “doctors having disagreed”.
The following month, on 5th February 1847, more news: – INQUEST ON THE HUMAN BONES
“The Coroner’s Inquest, which we noticed some time previously, on the remains of a human being found in the bush near Maroota, on the road between Windsor and Wiseman’s Ferry, was brought to a close on Monday last, the 1st instant. It appears that a native Black, named Dingy, communicated to a settler on the Lower Hawkesbury named Stephen Greentree, that he had seen the bones of a white fellow in the bush. Greentree accompanied him to the place, about three months ago, and ascertained the fact, on which he, Greentree, acquainted Constable Philips, and afterwards assisted him in the search. They found the skull complete, some of the ribs, vertebrae, and the shafts of the long bones, with the articulating ends destroyed, a portion of the pelvis also. On the skull at the right side there was a fracture extending through the parietal and temporal bones, ending posteriorly in two and three fissures in the occipital bone; there were no depressions or shelving of the bones, and the left half of the skull was buried in the sand, and had been exposed to the action of fire; the right side was quite bleached from the action of the air. Dr. Stewart gave it as his opinion that death had resulted from violence, and the fractures in the skull was the cause of death; while, on the contrary, Dr. Bell and Dr. Day were of opinion that the fissures or fractures were caused after death, and most probably from the action of the atmosphere; the long bones presented the same appearance with the fissures, as the skull did, and they were also quite bleached.
It appeared from the evidence of Mr. James G. Doyle, that a person named James Gillen, aged about sixty, had been employed by him as a schoolmaster, and left his services now more than three years, intending to go to Windsor; he gave him a cheque for six pound odd, which has never been presented to this day at the Bank of New South Wales. Besides the bones, there were found a tin box, with a certificate of freedom, with the name “James Gillen”
written thereon quite distinct, and from his not having been heard of since, it is supposed he
lost his way in the bush, and thus perished; bush fires in summer are generally rather prevalent in that thick part of the bush where the remains were found, which fact may perhaps account for the burning. The jury, in the absence of evidence to account for the deceased’s death, brought in a verdict of “found dead” [9]”.
I haven’t found a registered death for a James Gillen, but that’s not surprising as his death occurred prior to 1856 civil registration requirements, and church records may have been lost in subsequent years due to floods or a fire. However, the following notice published in May 1845 did catch my attention as it mentions a James Gillen.