A Camperdown Cemetery Story
By Elliot Lindsay
The gallows loomed before Mogo, its wooden frame casting long shadows in the rising morning sun. The crowd had gathered outside Darlinghurst Gaol as early as five o’clock, throngs of men, women, and even children pushing against one another to catch a glimpse of the macabre spectacle that was about to unfold.
Mogo, an Aboriginal man of the Gumbaynggirr people, had been convicted of murder, and now he was to pay the ultimate price. His fate was sealed, though as he was led out to the scaffold, he seemed calm - far too calm for a man about to meet his end.
His lips moved in silent prayer as the reverend walked beside him, his hand resting gently on Mogo’s shoulder. The crowd, restless and loud, jeered and murmured, some curious, others morbidly excited. The gaoler’s heavy boots thudded against the wooden planks as he led Mogo to the noose.
Mogo’s dark eyes swept briefly over the sea of faces, but there was no panic, no visible sign of fear. He had spent the night in prayer, visited by clergymen and even the Anglican Bishop of New Zealand, and though Mogo denied his role in the murder, here he was, walking steadily to his doom.
The hood was drawn over his head, and the executioner tightened the noose around his neck. The gallows creaked as the trapdoor beneath Mogo’s feet awaited the signal from the sheriff. In those final moments, perhaps Mogo thought of the life that had led him here, a life full of contradictions and pain, torn between two worlds.
Then the bolt was pulled.
The crowd gasped as Mogo dropped, his body hanging limp, the rope silencing any further debate over his guilt or innocence. His life ended there, but his journey didn’t stop. After his body was taken down from the gallows, it was placed on a horse-drawn cart and carried to the outskirts of Newtown, where Mogo’s body was taken to the burial ground at St. Stephen's Church.
Though Mogo was an Anglican, and the reverend ensured that he was buried in the church burial ground, his status as an Aboriginal man and convicted murderer placed his final resting place at a lonely, unmarked plot on the outskirts of the cemetery, along what is today Lennox Street.
No headstone would mark his grave, and he would be buried far from the white settlers who lay in the heart of the burial ground. Mogo was gone, but the story of his life and death remained.
The Murder at Bellinger River
It was April 25th, 1850, a warm and humid day along the Bellinger River. Daniel Page, a timber dealer who worked the cedar-rich banks of the river, had been warned. His companion, Mr Haley, had grown suspicious of the group of Aboriginal men that had been hanging around, and though Page was used to their presence - Mogo himself had often come by, offering to help with various tasks - there was something different about today.
Mogo arrived at Page’s hut, offering to take rations to the nearby sawyers, just as he had done before. But this time, when Page accompanied Mogo across the river, they were not alone. Four other men, all Aboriginal, emerged from the bush - Doughboy, Ugly, Mickey, and Charlie, names given to them by the colonists. The mood shifted, and Haley’s warnings now seemed all too prescient.
One of the men, Doughboy, threw a spear at Haley, sending him fleeing toward the hut. Page wasn’t so lucky. Before he could react, the group descended on him, beating him with their hands and weapons. They threw boomerangs as Page and Haley retreated to the hut, but the attackers followed, trying to force their way inside. They used whatever they could find - fire-sticks, rocks, even pulling a slab from the chimney. Inside, Page and Haley armed themselves with knives, but it was clear they were outnumbered.
A brief skirmish ensued, and though Page managed to fend them off temporarily, he was struck by a boomerang. A gash opened across his neck, and the blood flowed freely. He knew it was a mortal wound, even as he tried to fight on. The men demanded provisions, and fearing for their lives, Page and Haley gave up the rations. With what they wanted in hand, Mogo and the others disappeared into the bush.
Page’s condition worsened rapidly. He was too weak to flee with Haley and Mrs O'Neil, the woman who lived with him, so they left him in a secluded spot with blankets, hoping they could return with help.
But when they came back the next morning, Page was gone. He had crawled to a new location, trying desperately to survive, but by the time they found him, it was clear there was little they could do. Page died three days later, his body lying cold in the mangroves.
The Arrest
The murder sent shockwaves through the region, and within weeks, the New South Wales Government issued a warrant for the arrest of all five men involved - Mogo, Doughboy, Ugly, Mickey, and Charlie. A reward of five pounds was offered for any information that led to their capture.
For Mogo, there would be no escape. He was apprehended near the Macleay River by a man named Gollagher, with the help of some Aboriginal trackers. When they caught Mogo, he was wearing a shawl that belonged to Mrs O'Neil, further linking him to the scene of the crime.
Mogo did not resist arrest. He knew what awaited him, though he maintained that he had not been the one to strike the fatal blow. It was Ugly, he claimed, who had delivered the wound that killed Daniel Page. Mogo had tried to prevent the attack, but the others in the group were determined. Faced with disloyalty to his clan, he had no choice but to go along with them.
The Trial
The trial began on October 7, 1850, at the Central Criminal Court in Sydney. Mogo stood alone in the dock, the only one of the five men who had been captured. The courtroom was packed as the Solicitor-General laid out the case. Witnesses testified to the events leading up to Page’s death.
Haley recounted how Mogo and the others had attacked them, demanding food and supplies, and Dr. Benjamin confirmed that the wound to Page’s neck had been the cause of death.
Mr. Holroyd, Mogo’s defence attorney, argued that there was no direct evidence linking Mogo to the fatal blow. He had been present, yes, but there were conflicting reports about who had actually killed Page. According to Page himself, it had been Ugly, not Mogo, who had struck him.
And yet, Mogo was tried as if he had delivered the final blow, under the principle of joint criminal enterprise, which held that all members of a group could be held responsible for the actions of any one individual within it.
Despite Holroyd’s arguments, the jury found Mogo guilty. After deliberating for less than an hour, they returned with their verdict. The judge sentenced Mogo to death, and though Mogo spoke English and understood the gravity of the situation, he remained calm and detached throughout the proceedings. It was as if he had already made peace with his fate.
The Tragic Life of Mogo Gar
Mogo’s story was not just the story of a murder. It was the story of a man caught between two worlds, neither of which truly accepted him. As a boy, Mogo had been taken from his people and land by a European settler named Mr. Guard. The story of his abduction was strange and tragic.
Guard had been lost in the bush and was attacked by a group of Aboriginal men. In a desperate bid to survive, he grabbed a young boy - Mogo - and used him as a human shield to protect himself from the spears and boomerangs.
Mogo’s kin had ceased their attack, and Guard had carried the boy back to his station, where he clothed him, fed him, and raised him as his own. Mogo was the word his people screamed as Guard carried him away, Guard believed it to be his name; however, it was said the word they were shouting, in fact meant “come back” in their language. The boy became known as Mogo Guard, but was mistaken to be Mogo Gar later in his life.
For years, Mogo lived with Guard, caught between the life of his ancestral clan and the foreign world of white colonists. He learned to read and write and was raised in the Christian faith, but he was always an outsider - too Aboriginal to be truly accepted by the colonists, and too Westernized to return to his own people.
This inner conflict must have haunted Mogo, especially as he grew older and eventually left Guard’s station to seek his own way in the world.
Mogo’s involvement in the murder of Daniel Page was not the act of a cold-blooded killer. It was the act of a man trapped in circumstances beyond his control, torn between loyalty to his people and the colonial world that had shaped him. He may not have delivered the fatal blow, but his presence that day sealed his fate. The law did not care about the complexities of Mogo’s life or the nuances of his involvement. All that mattered was that he had been there, part of the group that had attacked and killed a white man.
Eternal Resting Place
As the crowd dispersed from Darlinghurst Gaol, the gallows stood empty. Once buried, Mogo’s bones were left to rest for over one hundred and seventy years, in other people’s country, more than four hundred kilometres from his own Gumbaynggirr country. Today, a tree and a small sandstone monument with a plaque can be found above his grave.
“THIS TREE WAS PLANTED TO THE MEMORY OF MOGO, AN ABORIGINAL WHO WAS BURIED HERE ON 5TH NOVEMBER 1850.”
A silent reminder of the life he had lived between two worlds.
Next time you are walking along Lennox Street, just before you reach Eliza Street, you will find the resting place of Mogo. Stop and reflect that Mogo’s life, though cut short, spoke to the greater conflicts of the time - between settlers and Aboriginal people, between law and survival, and between two worlds that would never fully understand each other.
Comments