The Flahaven Murder

Walking directions:  Leaving 54 Pleasant Street, head southwest for 17 m on Pleasant St toward King St.  Turn left onto King St, walk for 240 m until you reach Commercial Street. Turn right and walk for 2.2 km along this road until you reach your destination on the left - the current site of the Northern Yacht Club. The location of the Flahaven tavern is believed to have been in this general vicinity.

In 1833 there was witnessed in Sydney the unusual spectacle of a triple execution, two men and a woman being hanged for murder. The crime was committed at North Sydney, the victim John Flahaven, being murdered by his own wife, Charlotte Flahaven, William Johnson and Reuben Easman. The two men were sailors, one of whom had become intimate with Mrs. Flahaven, and had planned, the foul deed with her, the object being to get the husband out of the way.

Flahaven kept a tavern, or bar-room, at which he sometimes gave food and lodging to travellers. That summer he had bought an ox at Little Bras d’Or which he intended to fatten for his winter’s beef. A few days after the animal had been bought, Johnson and Easman came to the place while Flahaven was doing some work about his house. Unknown to him they went around to the barn, untied the ox and drove him up the road to Little Bras d’Or. The animal was eager to get back to his old home, darted off, and as soon as he was out of sight, one of them went to tell Flahaven that his ox had broken loose and run away. The unfortunate man at once set out in pursuit, the sailors stealthily following him. The road at that time was little more than a bridlepath, and at places was darkened by overhanging trees. At one of these dark places, a little distance from his own house, they overtook him, and there set upon him, one using a club, the other an axe. His piteous appeals to be spared, with the promise to leave the country never to return, fell upon deaf ears; he was beaten to death, and his body disposed of as quickly and as securely as, under the circumstances, could be done.

The murderers then went back to the house, where, it being early morning, all but Mrs. Flahaven and the eldest daughter were still in bed. But the second daughter, a girl about fifteen years of age, who slept in a small room over the kitchen-barroom, noticed them driving the ox and following her father. She now saw them returning and noticed that their hands were stained with blood; she at once concluded that they had taken his life. It may be said here that this girl, in the family quarrels that had been frequent since these men had appeared on the scene, always sided with her father. She seemed to feel that he was being unfairly used. So, when she saw the men coming to the house as they did, and knowing that something was wrong, she kept perfectly still and listened through the cracks in the floor of her room to what was going on in the room below. On the men coming in, Mrs. Flahaven asked them if they had seen her husband. “Yes,” was the reply; “he will trouble us no more!” “What did you do with him?” she asked. “We buried him!” was their answer. She then heard the men go to a basin that stood on a little shelf in the corner and there wash their hands. A little later, fearing that she had overheard their talk, they came into her room to assure themselves, but she feigned sleep, and thus in all likelihood escaped a fate similar to that of her father. The girl's room in the house had a window that was scarcely six feet from the ground. This enabled her to escape through the window unobserved, which she did soon after they left her room, and she ran with all speed towards Sydney Mines, a distance of three miles, where lived an uncle of hers, her father’s brother. She took the precaution of going through the woods until within half a mile of her uncle’s house. It was well for her that she did, for on coming to the road she saw the two sailors not very far behind in pursuit of her. Fear gave her further strength, however, and she succeeded in reaching the house before they could catch up to her, and, panting for breath as she was, managed to relate details about the awful crime. With as little delay as possible, the girl’s uncle took her to Leitches’ Creek, to the house of Captain MacKinnon, who was a Justice of the Peace, and to whom she told the story of what she had seen and heard. Although the magistrate could hardly believe that a crime of such a revolting character had been committed, he made out a warrant and sent three constables — all the peace officers north of the harbor—to make the arrest. These arriving at the Flahaven house found it so barricaded that they could not make an entrance, and were obliged to go back. The magistrate then came to Sydney, had a search warrant made out, and more constables appointed. After this the arrests were made without further difficulty, and the three prisoners were taken across and lodged in the county gaol.

In the meantime, the whole neighborhood had turned out to search for the murdered man’s body, the finding of which proved to be no easy matter. The ground being swampy, it was not easy to find or follow a track. At last the searchers found the axe with which the fatal blow had been given, and there they found evidence of the ill-fated man’s last struggle for life. Even then the body was not found until they resorted to getting Flahaven’s dog to scent the trail. The faithful animal in very short time led them to where his master had been thrown under a fallen tree, partly buried in soft earth and covered with moss, fallen leaves and turf. It is said that one hand was aboveground: either the interment had not been completed, or the wretched man was not quite dead when interred and in his dying convulsions had worked his hand to the surface.

The trial began on the 27th of August and was concluded the following day. Justices Uniacke and Hill presided. On being arraigned the prisoners pleaded ‘not guilty.’ Nine jurors were objected to by them or on their behalf. The Attorney General concluded the case for the Crown. The court records do not date whether the prisoners were represented by counsel. The jury that sat upon the case consisted of: Thomas Wagner, foreman, John English, James Nicol, Philip Daniel, John Livingstone, Peter Guthro, David LeCras, William Lewis, Walter Hendrikin, John Murphy, John Battersby and William Owens. Nine witnesses were called upon to give evidence among whom were three of the Flahaven family, the two girls already mentioned and their uncle. The jury returned a verdict of ‘guilty.’ At the close of the court, August 30th, the indictment was read, and the prisoners were asked if they had anything to say, after which they, the said Charlotte Flahaven, William Johnson and Reuben Easman, were sentenced “to be taken hence and hanged by the neck until they are dead.”

The execution took place on the 19th day of September, and according to the custom of the time, was in public. People flocked from all parts of the country to see the terrible sight. The gallows were erected on ground now enclosed by the railway, some distance north. It was feared that an attempt would be made to rescue the prisoners, so the garrison, except for those on sentry duty, was called out to prevent any such attempt being made. The garrison at the time being but small, the militia was also called out. The soldiers marched up street to the gaol, where they formed a hollow square, in the center of which the condemned persons were placed. Thus guarded, they were taken to the place of execution. It is said that they appeared to be quite calm and unconcerned, showing no signs of having repented of their awful deed. Indeed it is related that Mrs. Flahaven, at the very foot of the gallows, gave evidence to the contrary. She asked that she might see her second daughter—she that had gone with the news of the murder to her uncle’s. On this being denied her, she said that her only object was to get a chance to take the girl’s life, and that she would have done it so quickly that no one could have prevented her.

The Sheriff had had some difficulty in securing a hangman. Nobody wanted the job, and, in fact, there would be some danger attached to it, there being some very lawless characters in the country at the time who would naturally side with the criminals. But the evening before, an immigrant ship had come into port, and one of its sailors, hearing of the dilemma, expressed his willingness to act the part. The Sheriff gladly hired him to do the work for five pounds, paid him the money and locked him in gaol over night for safe keeping. The man carried out his contract, doing the gruesome work quite satisfactorily. But as soon as he had pulled the trap, while every eye was intently fixed on the bodies dangling on the ropes, he hastily got down from the scaffold, made his way through the crowd, ran away and was seen no more.

There is something pathetic about the life-story of one of the men, Reuben Easman. He was an Englishman by birth, and had landed at North Sydney only a short time before the murder, the ship on which he had been sailing having been wrecked on Petrie’s Ledge. The ship’s carpenter, who afterwards made his home in Sydney, knew him well when aboard and during the period that he spent ashore, and described him as a quiet, inoffensive man, who had every appearance of having been well brought up. While at North Sydney, doing odd jobs around the place, he fell in with Johnson, who, it seems, easily gained an evil influence over him, eventually leading him into murder. Soon after the sentence of death had been passed upon him, Easman got word sent to his former shipmate, requesting him to go to see him, which the latter did. To him he entrusted a few articles of personal property which he wanted sent home to his people, asking him at the same time to let them know that he was dead. It was a painful meeting to his friend, who never could underhand how he came to have a hand in the crime. But his wishes were loyally carried out; the articles were sent to England after the execution, together with the news that he was dead, but the manner of his death was not stated. There was no reply to the letter—possibly the sender did not give his address—and it never was known here whether or not Easman’s people ever learned the sad story of his end.

The three bodies were buried near the gallows, about where the railway crosses the point. All traces of the graves have long since disappeared. The scaffold was taken down soon after the hanging, but the gallows poles were left standing, and remained there until they had rotted with age—silent but effective reminders of one dark Cape Breton tragedy.

Source: https://archive.org/stream/oldsydneysketche00mack/oldsydneysketche00mack_djvu.txt

Edits by Dan Bunbury