The Extraordinary Life of James Davis: From Convict to Duramboi
James Davis, born in Glasgow in 1807 to blacksmith Walter Davis and his wife, Mary McGrigor, led a life so unusual that it became a tale woven into both Scottish and Australian histories. From his early years in the industrial heart of Glasgow to his later years spent among Aboriginal people as "Duramboi," his journey reflects the complexities of colonial Australia, cross-cultural exchange, and personal resilience.
Early Life in Glasgow
James Davis was baptised on 2 August 1807 in Strathblane, a rural area outside Glasgow. His early years were shaped by the rough yet skilled world of blacksmithing, a trade he learned under his father’s watchful eye in Broomielaw. By age 14, Davis was fully apprenticed in the family trade, working in Old Wynd, an area notorious for its bustling, often precarious, industrial life. But fate had different plans for young Davis; his life would soon veer far from the path of a Glasgow blacksmith.
Conviction and Transportation
On 29 September 1824, Davis’s life took a dramatic turn. He was sentenced to fourteen years' transportation after pleading guilty to "the offence of theft, habit and repute." The exact details of his crime are murky; as he later gave two conflicting stories: one involving the theft of half a crown from a church plate and the other an accusation he maintained was false. Nevertheless, the Australian Dictionary of Biography records the crime as the theft of two shillings and six pence from a church box—a seemingly minor offence, yet one that had monumental consequences in the British judicial system of the time.
By late October, Davis was held in Calton Hill Gaol in Edinburgh, a grim prelude to his journey. As described by The Edinburgh Advertiser, each of the Glasgow convicts received a pocket Bible, a catechism, and a heartfelt address from the chaplain before they departed for their new lives. On 22 August 1825, Davis arrived in New South Wales aboard the Minstrel. He was described as a young Glaswegian with fair hair, and, at just 17 years of age, he entered an unfamiliar and unforgiving world.
Life as a Convict in Australia
Davis’s life in New South Wales was harsh and filled with challenges. In 1828, he faced further charges, this time for robbery, leading to a three-year sentence at the notorious Moreton Bay penal settlement, now Brisbane. Known for its brutal discipline under Commandant Patrick Logan, Moreton Bay was infamous for extreme punishment, where many convicts preferred death over continued suffering. Logan's methods were reportedly so severe that some inmates committed murder solely to escape further punishment.
Yet, in this bleak environment, Davis made a life-altering decision. On 30 March 1829, he escaped the settlement with a fellow convict, likely John Downie. The duo trekked northward, eventually encountering Aboriginal people in Sandgate, with whom they would stay for the next twelve months. The tribe passed them along to Toorbul Point, then to the Mary River. They soon joined the Kabi Kabi people (then called the Ginginbarrah people) of Wide Bay. The Kabi Kabi leader Pamby-Pamby believed Davis was his reincarnated dead son Duramboi, and accepted him into the tribe as "an honoured guest". Not long after, Davis's companion broke tribal law by desecrating an Aboriginal grave—removing the deceased's remains from a dilly bag in a tree in order to carry oysters—and was killed.
Shortly after, Davis accidentally killed his adoptive mother's pet dog. The woman persuaded Pamby-Pamby to kill Davis. At first Pamby-Pamby was not indisposed to do so. He accused Davis of being not his son but a "mawgooy" (ghost), and threatened to have him killed. In response, Davis gave Pamby-Pamby "such a merciless drubbing with his fists that he not only subdued his murderous intentions but induced him to forgive the death of his pet dog". Davis was "a specially dutiful son ever afterwards".
Davis stayed with the Kabi Kabi for 12 months. He eventually travelled hundreds of miles from Brisbane and learned the languages and customs of many tribes. All of these tribes treated him as a reincarnated Aboriginal man. For each tribe, Davis would assume the identity of a recently deceased tribesman, but over time these lies became increasingly difficult to maintain. On the occasions that Davis was not "recognised", he would claim he had forgotten his name after his "death". By 1842, he had settled back with the Kabi Kabi people and his adoptive father Pamby-Pamby. He was allotted a flat named Toon about eight miles off the Mary River.
Davis completely adopted the habits of his newfound culture. He dressed in little clothing and could navigate the bush as easily as his colleagues. He also partook in traditional scarification. By 1842, Davis's chest was tattooed with parallel horizontal scars, and he had scars of old wounds in his back and legs.
Rediscovery by Andrew Petrie
Davis would end up living with the Kabi Kabi people for over a decade, eventually mastering several Aboriginal languages and customs. By 1842, however, his life took another turn when he was found by explorer Andrew Petrie in Wide Bay. Petrie had heard of a white man living among the Aboriginal people, and after a cautious approach, managed to persuade Davis to return to Western society. According to one of Petrie's party, Wargandilla, "blacks in hundreds followed along the bank of the river, walked out on projecting trees and rocks and called their farewells to Davis, who ... told them the awful sorrow he felt at leaving them, the joyous days he had spent in their company, his undying love for his father and mother, and all the other superb exaggerations made necessary in the diplomacy of that critical occasion"
Petrie later wrote of his first sighting of Davis:
I shall never forget his appearance when he arrived in our camp – a white man in a state of nudity, and actually a wild man of the woods; his eyes wild and unable to rest a moment on any one object.
He had quite the same manner and gestures that the wildest blacks have got. He could not speak his 'mither's tongue,' as he called it. He could not pronounce English for some time, and when he did attempt it, all he could say was a few words, and those were often misapplied, breaking off abruptly in the middle of a sentence with the black gibberish, which he spoke very fluently.
During the whole of our conversation his eyes and manner were completely wild, looking at us as if he had never seen a white man before. In fact, he told us he had forgotten all about the society of white men, and had forgotten all about his friends and relations for years past, and had I or someone else not brought him from among those savages he would never have left them.
Reintegration and Later Years
Returning to colonial society was a struggle for Davis. He had to relearn English and navigate a world that was as foreign to him as the bush had been upon his arrival in Australia. He resumed work as a blacksmith and, by 1844, was granted a ticket of leave. Over the years, he became employed by notable individuals, including Stephen Simpson, a land commissioner, and eventually opened a crockery shop in George Street.
Davis's skills in Aboriginal languages proved valuable, and he occasionally worked as an interpreter, although reports suggested he sometimes manipulated translations to his advantage. In 1864, he briefly worked as a colonial expedition guide, bringing his knowledge of Aboriginal routes and customs to benefit Western explorers.
Final Years, Wealth, and Death
Despite a life marked by hardship, Davis amassed a substantial fortune. He died a wealthy man and left significant bequests in his will, including £750 in 1889 and an additional £1,100 in 1911 to the Brisbane General Hospital, as well as contributions to St Stephen’s Cathedral. Though baptised in the Church of Scotland, Davis identified as a Catholic later in life, an aspect reflected in his charitable bequests. His contributions underscored a commitment to the community that had both changed and shaped him.
However, Davis’s final years were far from peaceful. By 1889, he was confined to his bed, suffering from heart and lung disease. During his last days, he was attended by Dr Grant Furley at his residence in Burnett Lane. On 30 April, Furley was summoned urgently and arrived to find Davis with a wound on his left arm, his nightshirt soaked in blood. Davis’s wife, Bridget, was notably absent, and Dr Furley determined that the injuries had resulted from a violent assault, likely inflicted by Bridget. The days that followed were filled with medical intervention, but Davis’s health steadily declined. His extensive internal injuries—damaged heart, lung, liver, and kidney—were exacerbated by the trauma he had suffered.
Following his death on 7 May 1889, Bridget was arrested on charges of manslaughter. At the trial, Dr Furley testified that Bridget’s assault had accelerated Davis’s death. Neighbours also came forward, claiming that Bridget had often “upbraided [her husband] with not having given her more money.” Descriptions of her behaviour during the hearings noted her incoherence and frequent lapses into a "half-conscious" state. The case dragged on, with final hearings occurring in June, but Bridget was eventually found not guilty and discharged.
Davis’s obituary in the Brisbane Courier captured the full arc of his life:
“his career included some of the strangest experiences that have ever fallen, perhaps, to any man in this colony, and are on a par with those of the once famous ‘Crusoe’ of Victoria.”
His dual identity as James Davis and Duramboi, his wealth, his suffering, and his generosity all marked a life that continued to resonate in colonial Australia long after his death.
A Lasting Impact
James Davis’s life encapsulates the intersections of culture, punishment, and resilience in 19th-century Australia. His experiences as a convict, his survival and adaptation among Aboriginal people, and his eventual return to Western society present a narrative that both challenges and enriches our understanding of colonial histories. His generous bequests to the Brisbane General Hospital and St Stephen's Cathedral reveal a man who, despite a life marked by hardship, left a legacy of generosity and cultural bridging that resonates to this day.