On Sunday afternoon in twenty-eight-degree heat with two girlfriends, Liffey Falls is perfect. Every so often the white curtains of running water occasion into still, cooling pools for recreation. Giant manferns lean over the water as if to see their own reflections, Jurassic versions of Narcissus.
But the water is cold in winter. And on a winter morning in 1827, according to historian Lyndall Ryan, the Pallittorre people were rousing from their sleep in the caves at the bottom of the cascades, when a mob of stockmen bustled through the bush and attacked. The Colonial Times reported the death of “an immense quantity” of Aborigines. Maybe as many as sixty were killed in this skirmish. Within two weeks, the number had risen to around one hundred dead blacks.
It was the middle of the Black War: although it was winter, the friction between Aboriginal Tasmanians and colonial graziers was at its hottest. The conflict was over land: the stockmen wanted to live in the traditional hunting grounds of the native Tasmanians.
Nowadays, no-one sleeps in the caves at the bottom of the falls, and camping is prohibited.