Halloween in Australia: Scary and Macabre Stories from Darling Harbor History

Maybe the Australian climate is too good in October for people to feel cool, or maybe our chocolate is too tasty to hand out, compared to the drier, milk-free American versions.

But one thing that cannot be disputed is that it’s certainly not because we run out of gruesome or gruesome stories to trade.

“We’ve created loads of weird and fun things to do in Darling Harbor this Halloween,” said Anita Mitchell, Managing Director of NSW Placemaking.

“Tumbalong Park will be the place for the best Halloween selfies in town, where we’ll have a giant bat and a carved pumpkin to pose with.

“And around the corner on the harbor, there will be plenty of spooky specialties to get your teeth into it.”

WARNING: The following stories contain scenes of blood, death, and blood again. They are best read aloud to other people in a dimly lit room at midnight while invisible tree branches scratch the window.

In January 1866, Sydney City Council employees made a gruesome discovery when they dug a street where the Town Hall now stands – two unmarked coffins.

They were close to the site of an ancient cemetery, but these coffins were clearly buried outside the sacred ground.

Trying to discover the identity of the bodies has led people to a poignant story.

The bodies that had been unearthed were those of two men who had been executed in 1799 for the felony of killing missionary Samuel Clode in the area now known as Darling Square (then known as Brickfields).

One of the murderers was Private Thomas Jones, after whom Jones Bay and Jones Street in Pyrmont were named.

With the help of an accomplice, they had slit Clode’s head in half with an ax as he came to collect a debt payment, then buried his corpse in a saw behind Jones’ house.

Their terrible crime was discovered and they were hanged for it.

Thousands of people cross the heritage listed Pyrmont Bridge every day. But any of them are unlikely to be worried about the possibility of an ice cream-related death.

In 1897 – and on Valentine’s Day, no less – Thomas Risk, 50, was in charge of opening and closing the bridge to allow ships to pass underneath.

He was closing the door when an ice cream cart driver tried to pass, knocking Risk down on the ground – and in the mechanisms of the bridge, where Risk was crushed to death.