Thursday, 4 January 2024

Accentuate the positive - a reflection on my 2023 family history year

Jill Ball, aka GeniAus, puts out this challenge annually and I was thrilled when I saw the 2023 prompts published. I love stopping and reflecting on my research year, to remember great discoveries, see where my focus was for the year, and get re-enthused for the year ahead. Thanks Jill!!

On revisiting some old research I found ... so many details and clues overlooked in the original research frenzy to find records and information.  With time comes new context and I find there is always value in revisiting research and records – I’m often surprised to find I’ve missed something that, in hindsight, was the obvious next logical step.

 In 2023 I hooked up with a new (to me) living cousin ... I was very fortunate to travel to the UK this year and meet up with quite a few cousins of varying degrees who I’d “discovered” through research but only met through emails and Facebook up until then.  All were delightful and I enjoyed lunches, exchanges of information, weekends exploring cemeteries, and, in one case, viewing an extensive collection of family memorabilia dating back to the mid-1850s.

 I'm pleased I replaced a tool I had been using with  ... Family Echo. It’s the app I’ve been dreaming of for years.  A web-based platform, it enables you to very quickly create a family a tree to illustrate particular relationships - the kind of tree I often draw on the back of an envelope to explain something to Mum – but in digital format.  It doesn’t take the place of family history software such as FamilyTree Maker, RootsMagic or similar but is so useful to quickly create a diagram. You can input a range of basic biographical data, which can be exported in a range of formats including GEDCOM and .csv as well as pdf download of tree diagrams. Never been happier. And did I mention that it’s FREE!!

My sledge hammer did great work on this brick wall ... I think I used my butterfly net more than my sledge hammer this year; gathering up lots of new material that I can apply my sledgehammer to this year.

I was pleased that I finally read... The Curlews on Vulture Street. It has nothing at all to do with family history. But it is a great example of making research engagingly readable.

I enjoyed my geneajourney to ... The UK – Ireland, Scotland and England. I revisited some places and went to some new ones, mostly small out-of-the-way villages as well as a few archives and local history groups. I met up with cousins (see above) and spent time with the dearest person in my family tree - my daughter. 

In 2023 I finally met ... More amazing local historians and wonderful archivists. A particular shoutout to Billy and Margaret of the Dalmellington Local History Group who welcomed me into their rooms and shared their local knowledge (and some Bakewell tarts). It’s a tiny, out of the way village in rural Ayrshire (Scotland) to which I curiously have both a maternal and paternal connection. It required a train and a bus to get to but so worthwhile.  A timely reminder that (a) there is always value in reaching out the locals and (b) the importance of supporting these groups if you have an opportunity.

I was the recipient of genearosity from ... Family History Month, being the lucky winner of a Gould Genealogy book voucher that enabled me to add three books to my library. Although, embarrassingly, still on my TBR pile.

I am pleased that I am a member of ... Huddersfield and District Family History Society (Yorkshire, UK).  This group actively promotes their family history tourism services and go to extraordinary lengths to create bespoke local tours and coordinate access to buildings and places of significance in your family history. This year, I had a behind the scenes tour to Broadbent Engineering, where my gr-gr-grandfather did his apprenticeship circa 1870 and the Almondbury Grammar School where he went to school. I’ve also been fortunate that my membership with the group has netted other research results. And, even better, I’ve been able to reciprocate by assisting them with some research in Australia.

I made a new DNA discovery  ...  not this year!

An informative journal or newspaper article I found was ... one that had been lurking in my files for many a year, provided by a fellow researcher, that described the diamond wedding anniversary of the younger brother of an ancestor and included valuable clues to further exploration of this collateral line.

A newspaper archive (Papers Past) helped me ...  add a few details to what we know of an ancestor’s brother.

I enjoyed my wander around Ayr (Scotland) cemetery.  It was actually more than an idle wander around. I had visited previously in 2018 and found the marker for my 3xgr-grandmother at the base of the headstone of a family I could not connect to our family.  Subsequent emails with the Council revealed it had actually been relocated (unintentionally) from its original place marking Margaret’s burial place. Wandering (with intent) around the cemetery on my return visit this year, I started a conversation with the groundsman that led to us identifying the burial place, finding the plinth the marker stone originally rested on, and re-siting them both in the ‘right’ location. It was the most amazing and somewhat emotional afternoon. Forever grateful to Wally and his supervisor Stephen.

AI was a mystery to me but I learnt  ... that while it may have some amazing uses, for research and writing related tasks, I’m quite happy using my own brain, keyboard, and creative processes. For now.

The best value I got for my genealogy dollars was ... … a five day photographic pass to West Yorkshire Archives.  I spent three amazing days at the West Yorkshire Archives Service; two of them delving into the West Riding Registry of Deeds at the purpose-built West Yorkshire History Centre in Wakefield. I can’t remember how much it cost, but it enabled me take unlimited photographic copies of pages and pages of deeds related to my ancestors to bring back to Australia and peruse and interpret at leisure. Much more time efficient than trying to read and transcribe on site.


It felt good to contribute to  ... 
he ongoing development of Heritage Noosa, a website providing a one-stop shop for historic images and a myriad of other digitised material documenting the people, places and events of Noosa Shire (in my professional capacity)

It was wonderful to catch up with genimate Ian Stevenson of the Huddersfield & District Family History Society (Yorkshire, England) and have another great day out with him.

I wouldn't be without this technology ... c
loud based storage of all my scanned photos and family history notes and records. My trusty laptop is usually within arms’ length but for the odd occasion when I’m out and about without it, being able to pull something up on my phone is super handy.

I wrote ... pretty much nothing all year. But I did plenty of hunting and gathering and had lots of experiences that will lead to more writing.

I got a thrill from opening someone's eyes to the joy of genealogy ... joy would be overstating the case but having someone change their perspective on participating will hopefully lead to great joy.

Another positive I would like to share is ... how much I love geneasurprises, those spontaneous serendipities, that continue to occur in parallel with 'proper' research. The chance google that nets you a priceless family treasure, the overheard snippet of conversation that leads to a great connection, the random stranger who contacts you via your blog… all stories too long to tell here. Some I’ve already documented on my blog; others from 2023 will appear in forthcoming posts.

Now on with 2024….

Sunday, 22 January 2023

Accentuate the positive – a reflection on my 2022 genealogy year

 

Once again, Jill Ball has thrown out the challenge to pause and contemplate the year past in the context of all things family history.  I started the year with incredible focus and grand plans (a trip to Office Works for new stationery was involved) and maintained that for quite a few months. Work got in the way for periods of time (as it does) but on balance, it’s been a rather successful year with some brick walls busted, some new tricks learned, a few pleasant surprises, and a long-awaited research trip undertaken.  Thanks, Jill, for once again encouraging us to focus on the all the fun and achievements, not the ‘to do’ list.

1. I was happy to go back to live theatre and dance performances after a covid absence. Not family history related but it was great – for me and all the wonderful folks who work in the creative arts.

2. In 2022 I was particularly proud of being project coordinator/editor (which involved writing an introduction) to publish a long-forgotten manuscript Yabba Yabba of Widgeon and Kummera by Sarah Midgley with an accompanying contextual essay by Dr Ray Kerkhove. This was a project undertaken in my professional capacity but a labour of love involving many out of work hours spent delving into someone else’s family history.  It features some of the earliest firsthand writing about the Mill Point settlement on Lake Cootharaba near Noosa and was released in conjunction with an exhibition of Aboriginal dolls made by Sarah Midgley.

3. A new software package or web application I embraced was the New South Wales Land Registry Offices Historical Land Records Viewer. It’s convoluted and took a while to master but… oh! the treasures to be found!

4.  My sledgehammer did great work on this brick wall: finally zeroing in, with as much confidence as possible, on the identity of my maternal great-grandfather’s parents.  The parents’ names recorded on his death certificate had long proved elusive with good reason – they did not exist. Some focused revisiting of past research, a lot of lateral and logical thinking and diagram drawing, a handy DNA clue, and some advice from Janet Few (see #19 below) has, as definitively as possible, established the mother. And I’m pretty close on the father too (see #10 below).

5. A new genealogy/history book that sparked my interest was Manorial Records for Family Historians by Geoffrey Barber. Second edition published in 2018 so not necessarily new, but new to me. I’m still reading so can’t yet give a review.


6. A geneasurprise I received was an email from a lady who had some years ago purchased some postcards of views of Rockhampton to satisfy her nostalgia for her hometown. She was having a sort out/declutter and had decided to move the postcards on. One of these postcards was addressed to my gr-gr-aunt Eva Dow and via some googling she found my connection to Eva, tracked me to my place of employment, and made contact to see if I would like this treasure. Duh! Of course. She duly posted the postcard to me and along the way we have enjoyed a lovely email correspondence.  This should not actually have been a surprise as I have been reunited with items associated with this relative (who passed away in 1969) six times (so far) over the past 14 or so years. But each time this has happened, my mind has been a little bit blown.

7.  In 2022 I finally met the town of Broken Hill and some of the many amazing volunteers who are the keepers of its history at the various family history and historical societies and museums in this fascinating town. My grandfather and his siblings were born there while their father was running a furniture emporium during the town’s heyday at the turn of the century.  All family members had moved on by 1930 but I did still find a few tidbits to add to the story.

8.  Locating the graves of a great-grandfather and a variety of other relatives in West Terrace Cemetery in Adelaide gave me great joy. Obviously, it’s always great to find ancestors resting places but this was extra-special as a second-cousin (who is male and under the age of 50 years) came with me voluntarily and enthusiastically and was really engaged with the who’s who once we found them. And did some weeding and was frustrated by the condition of the graves. And for added fun all this was accomplished while I was between connecting flights through Adelaide Airport.

9.  I am pleased the Covid situation caused me to change my work habits and continue working from home even after it wasn’t a requirement. So many benefits.

10. I progressed my DNA research by revisiting the Y-DNA results of an uncle and using some lateral thinking and different search strategies to cross-reference to my Ancestry.com DNA matches and made progress in breaking down a brickwall related to a maternal great-grandfather’s paternity (see #4 above). Ironically (or amusingly), the surname of the likely suspect is actually Wall. And this lot of Walls are intermarried with Stones. Not kidding.

14. I got a thrill from opening someone's eyes to the joy of genealogy ... not sure about ‘opening eyes to the joy’ but I’m always gratified to be able to facilitate workshops with experts like Shauna Hicks and Eric Kopittke on a range of topics for our local community through my professional role that hopefully open up new resources and research pathways.

15. The best value I got for my genealogy dollars was taking a Pharos Tutors course.  The range of new resources and research ideas that I learned about was phenomenal.

16. A DNA discovery I made was finding a previously unknown (aka illegitimate) quite close cousin in 2021. He is most likely a first cousin to my father (i.e. we believe his father was an illegitimate half-brother to my grandmother).  This was naturally very intriguing, but it was almost better to discover he lives 5 km from me and he and his wife have become lovely friends who I catch up with regularly, which qualifies this 2021 event for inclusion in 2022 reflection.

17. I enjoyed my first post-Covid face-to-face event because there’s just no substitute for catching up with kindred spirits in person.

18. A fabulous event I attended was the Scottish Indexes Conference. These are online, free (although a donation is appreciated) and held in such a way that the times aren’t outrageous for us in Australia. So many interesting and/or informative speakers.

19. I'm happy I splashed out and purchased a subscription to The Genealogist. The Map Explorer tool and links to tithe records is amazing and makes it possible to pinpoint locations of ancestors’ residences. I’ve barely scratched the surface of the possibilities and capabilities but it will prove invaluable and a worthy investment in preparing for an upcoming research trip.

 19. I got the most joy from being the lucky winner of a one-on-one brick wall busting session with English family historian Janet Few. Firstly, because I don’t think I’ve ever before won a major prize in a competition and this was a particularly good one! Secondly, Janet is amazing in her knowledge and experience, and as an added bonus lives in the area that my brickwall was related to. See #4 above.

20. Another positive I would like to share is ... the excitement of making the decision mid-2022 to some of my long service leave in 2023 and spend and extended period in the UK visiting the haunts of my ancestors, spend time in some archives learning more about said ancestors, and meeting up with some cousins of varying degrees.

Thursday, 1 December 2022

Catherine Elizabeth Dow: Brennan & Geraghty’s customer

 

Catherine Elizabeth Dow held an account with local Maryborough store Brennan & Geraghty’s in the years 1889 and 1890, but quite likely shopped there over a longer period of time.  She resided at 52 Queen Street, just a few short blocks from Brennan & Geraghty’s Store, making it a very convenient place for her to go for household supplies.  The surviving account books record her regular purchases of a range of staples such as sugar, salt, starch, currants, raisins, soda, onions and matches as well as occasional purchases of things like clothes pegs and cups and saucers.  At the time she was mother to four young children ranging in age from infancy to 7 years.  She and husband, Louis Henry Dow, would ultimately have six children.

Catherine arrived in Maryborough as a nine year old from Rawcliffe, Yorkshire with her parents John and Ellen (nee Hodgson) Simpson and five of her ten siblings.  The family sailed into Moreton Bay on the Elizabeth Ann Bright on 5 January 1865 and then continued directly on to Maryborough aboard the Clarence.  John first obtained work as a stockman and general hand with John Eaton, owner of Eaton Vale and Rosehill stations.  Within a few years, he successfully tendered for the position of rate collector for the Maryborough Council and the family made Maryborough their home.  It is believed that their home was on Lennox Street, between Queen and South Streets.
In her later years, Catherine reminisced:

That when [I] first came to Maryborough there was no town here; there were no large stores; bush prevailed on all sides, and the number of residences was small. Many of the houses would hardly be classed as dwellings when compared with many of the fine homes of today. [Maryborough Chronicle, 26 February 1938, pp. 3-4]

Catherine took title to the Queen Street property the day after her marriage to Louis in December 1881 and it was here that she and Louis raised their family.   Her husband Louis was a ship’s engineer who worked on various coastal steamers up and down the east coast ranging between Sydney and north Queensland, which meant he was away from home for long periods of time, leaving Catherine to care for their home and children. 

The successes of her children suggest that she did this admirably.  All six children attended Albert State School and each won prizes for academic or sporting achievement and received commendations for perfect attendance.  The children were also regular attendees at Sunday School at St Paul’s Church.  The two youngest children were still teenagers when their father Louis died suddenly in Gympie in 1910, just shy of his 56th birthday.

At about this time, Catherine became almost completely confined to the house due to the debilitating effects of illness, and the Queen Street residence became even more of a focus of family life, with visits from her adult children, grandchildren and members of the extended Dow and Simpson family.   Catherine was an accomplished needlewoman with a particular talent for tatting.  She was also an avid reader, borrowing books from the School of Arts, of which she was a long standing subscriber. These pastimes helped to occupy her days when she became less able to go out.

When interviewed in 1938, the day after her 83rd birthday and a few years before her death, Catherine described the great changes she had seen in the town (and the world) in her many years of residence, reflecting that while these changes were both good and bad, on balance she believed the world to be a better place than when she was a girl.

An event that loomed large in her memory was the 1893 flood. She recalled that the water surrounded her home on Queen Street, making it necessary to build a temporary landing to enable the family to reach the street. Only one room was inundated. Many houses were washed off their footings and floated downstream during the flood and the Dow family, fearing that their home might be next, were preparing to vacate the property. Just as a whale boat came alongside the veranda, they noticed that the waters had stilled and watched as the waters receded. A mark indicating the height the water reached remained on the inside wall of the home for many years. 

Catherine died at St Mary’s Hospital in January 1941, a month before her 86th birthday, Maryborough having been her sole place of residence in Australia.  She was survived by her six children, seven of her eight grandchildren, two of her brothers, and numerous nieces and nephews. 



Brothers-in-law Patrick Brennan and Martin Geraghty established their store at 64 Lennox Street in 1871. The store remained in the same family for 101 years, until its closure in 1972. When the doors closed over 50,000 stock items and the store's trading records remained in situ. The store was acquired by the National Trust in 1975 and opened as a heritage museum. This story was originally written for Brennan & Geraghty's Store Museum as a profiled of one of their many customers.  

Monday, 7 February 2022

A Fantastic Find

ANCESTOR HUNTING AT THE MARKETS

One Saturday morning a couple of years ago, in the interests of doing something ‘different’, I cajoled my sister and daughter into visiting Collectorama, a collectables show advertised in our local newspaper.  We weren’t really sure what to expect and it never entered my mind that the markets could play a role in my family history research.  Upon arrival, we were surprised at the size and scope of the show and spent a fascinating morning wandering the stalls that were laden with vintage jewelry, heirloom china, colourful carnival glass, lacy doilies, rusted tools, toys, books and more. 

The item that most captured my attention, however, was an aged, but intact, photo album dating, I estimate, from the mid-to-late 1800s. It had heavy covers and thick cardboard pages with cutouts into which photos could be inserted.  The album was filled with dozens of well-preserved carte-de-visites, many of them bearing photographer’s imprints from Huddersfield (Yorkshire, United Kingdom).  I spent a long time flipping the pages and chatting to the stallholder about its origins -  as someone whose most cherished possessions include old family photographs, I was affronted at the thought of someone casting off such a treasure trove of ancestors.  I was even more alarmed by the fact that the stallholder knew the gentleman it belonged to, a man named Brown who lived locally.   My family historian’s ‘radar’ was buzzing and I debated long and hard whether I could justify spending the $80 asking price to protect this album from falling into the ‘wrong hands’ (just whose these would be I’m not sure).  Having been raised to be frugal and not make frivolous purchases, I walked away without the album – it seemed highly indulgent to spend that much money on someone else’s family history.  But the memory of it stayed with me….

Not long afterwards, I began researching my Dow family, a maternal branch of my family tree that I had not previously explored.  Imagine my dismay when I discovered that my great-great-grandmother was Martha Ann Brown of Huddersfield, Yorkshire.  Admittedly, Brown is a common surname and I have no evidence of any of “our” Browns ever coming to Australia; nonetheless I was kicking myself for not having bought the album and resolved to do so at the next Collectorama if it was still for sale.   

On our return visit to Collectorama, although I found browsing the stalls equally enjoyable, I was somewhat distracted by my quest for ‘The Album’.  Nearing the end of our visit, not having found it (we have since discovered that each show features a varying range of stallholders), I was feeling a bit deflated and was standing idly by a stall while my sister and daughter engaged in a long discussion regarding some intriguing object.  To pass the time, I began flipping through an old cigar box filled with postcards.  Why? I have no idea.  I had (and I use past tense on purpose) no particular interest in old postcards or in cigar boxes.  Midway down the stack was a postcard lying address side up.  My eye was immediately drawn to the name of the addressee – Dow, the name I had most recently been researching.  Probably just a coincidence.   Regardless, I looked more closely and noted the town of address was Maryborough (Queensland).   Our Dows were from Maryborough!   My interest decidedly piqued, I checked the street – Queen Street. That’s where “our” Dows lived.    Trying to contain my excitement, I scanned back to the name – Miss E F Dow – my very own great-aunt Eva.  This was a postcard actually sent to my ancestor over 100 years ago.


Needless to say, I was completely dumbfounded and really didn’t know quite how to react to this amazing discovery.  So I held on tightly to the postcard, tried to remain calm, and began carefully sorting through the remainder of the items in the box.  The other postcards had been removed from an album and had brown paper stuck to the back and did not appear to have been written on.  But towards the bottom of the box were two photographs, both in pristine condition.  One featured two young ladies attired in matching dresses and pearl chokers.  These girls were unmistakably my great-grandmother Francia Dow (whose romance with her future husband Fred McKinlay was featured in Issue #4 of Inside History) and her sister Eva Faenza as teenagers.  The photographer’s imprint “A. R. Fosbrooke, Maryborough” provided additional support for my belief that this photo was of our family members.  The other photo, a portrait of a handsome young man, was taken at The Royal Studio, Belfast (Ireland).  With no known Irish connection in this branch of the family, I could not readily discern any family connection to this gentleman.  The only other items in the box were a couple of old pieces of correspondence relating to the Mosman Cricket Club, which I (possibly foolishly) discounted as of no relevance to our family.

Barely able to contain my jubilance, I inquired as to the price of photo and postcard and was told $2.00 per item.  Fearing the price would go up if I revealed the value of the items to me personally, I paid first and told the stallholder the story second.  She was disappointingly unenthused by our amazing tale but did manage to capitalize on our good fortune by convincing me to buy the photo of the Irishman ‘just in case’.    It was only later that I really began to ponder on just how these items had ended up on a market stall and to whom they had been important enough to keep safely for over 100 years.   I was able to contact the stallholders to see if they could recall anything – discouragingly, they had little information to provide other than ‘most likely a garage sale on the northside’ (of Brisbane).  But the story doesn’t end there. We have continued to make regular visits to Collectorama and, headed off one Saturday morning in May 2010.  Had she still been alive, it would have been my Granny Mavis (nee McKinlay) Davey’s 101st birthday.   We had barely begun our tour of the stalls when we found ourselves at the very same stall from which we had purchased the photo and postcard twelve months earlier.  There, lying on the table, surrounded by other bulkier objects, was a lone photo, featuring a girl in costume, dressed as Rule Brittania.  I immediately recognized it as a picture that hangs on my mother’s living room wall.  Almost incoherent with incredulity, I rang Mum, tripping over my words as I asked her to describe some details of her picture to make sure I wasn’t completely imagining it.  I’m sure my excited babbling was a source of great amusement to nearby shoppers.  There was no doubt it was the same picture and, this time, the stallholder gifted the photo to us.Although we had previously believed the picture to be of Granny Mavis (whose birthday it was), this discovery prompted us to study it more closely and we ultimately determined that it is actually her mother, Francia, and was most likely taken around the time of Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee in 1897.  The Jubilee was widely celebrated in Maryborough where Francia grew up and in honour of which Francia was awarded a memorial scholarship[i].  Regardless, we were thrilled to have another copy of this picture.


The chances of finding (and recognizing) photos of your ancestors on a market stall are slim and the chances of being this lucky twice, even slimmer.  My family assure me I have used up my serendipity and should quit while I’m ahead but it’s only made me more enthusiastic in my perusal of market stalls and more dogged in my examination of postcards and photos.  Someone kept these photos safe for over 100 years – who knows what other stashes of family photos may be lurking in the garages of strangers, just waiting for me to find them. When it comes to family history, I’m learning never to say ‘never’.

This article was first published as 'Lost, then found' in Inside History Magazine, Sept-Oct 2011

[i] The Brisbane Courier, Tuesday 8 February 1898, p. 5




Saturday, 9 January 2021

Let's Start at the Beginning


52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks (2021)
Week 1 | Beginnings

The 'Rothesay Bay'
As an Australian of European descent, all the branches of my family tree have their roots in faraway lands and were transplanted here with the hope of new beginnings.   The desire to know who my immigrant ancestors were, where they came from, when and where they arrived, and under what circumstances was the spark that ignited my family history adventures several decades ago.   This week’s theme has challenged me to collate these details into one concise(ish) summary, something I’d not yet done.  The end result is a group of 33 direct ancestor immigrants;  – from gr-grandparents to 4xgr-grandparents; the earliest in 1840, the most “recent” in 1886.   Some who came as single young adults, some as children with their parents, and some as older couples following their adult children.   From England, Scotland, Ireland, France and Germany.  To South Australia, Victoria, Queensland and just one to Tasmania (and this one not by choice).

So, let’s kick off the new year by meeting these brave and resilient folks who gave my family their beginnings in Australia.

In clockwise order around my Fan Chart (and, please note, this is a very ‘names and dates only’ post – their stories will be the fodder of future posts).

MATERNAL

Catherine Elizabeth Simpson and her sisters
Catherine Elizabeth Simpson (2xgr-grandma) and her parents John and Ellen (nee Hodgson) Simpson (3x gr-grandparents) who came from Rawcliffe, Yorkshire in 1864 along with five of her ten siblings and settled in Maryborough (Queensland).

Louis Henry Dow (gr-gr-grandpa):  Finding himself an orphan at the age of 19 years, Louis left Lockwood, Yorkshire and arrived in Maryborough (Queensland) in 1879, where he married Catherine Elizabeth Simpson in 1881.

Margaret Ann Stewart (gr-gr-grandma), an Irish servant girl from Co Antrim, Ireland who sailed alone to Australia in 1876, settling in Rockhampton (Queensland) where she married Scotsman John McKinlay in 1878.  The couple and their four children moved between homes in Rockhampton and Emu Park.

John McKinlay (gr-gr-grandpa), of Ayrshire, Scotland arrived in Rockhampton in 1876 where he had a long career as an engineer and raised his four children with Margaret Ann Stewart.  Two of his brothers and one sister also emigrated to Australia and a third brother to New Zealand.

Elizabeth Betts (gr-grandma), one of eight children of Richard John DeVere and Tracey (nee Goodgame) Betts of Oxfordshire, arrived in Australia in 1886, settling in Queensland. She married Henry Davey in 1889.  Several of her siblings also emigrated to Australia. 

Henry Davey (gr-grandpa) purportedly born in Wedmore, Somerset, arrived in Queensland in 1884, settling in the Lutwyche (Brisbane) area where he forged a career as a painter and decorator.  He married Elizabeth Betts in 1889 and the couple had two children.

PATERNAL

Ellen Boyne (3x gr-grandma) was born circa 1835 in Scotland (most likely in Invernesshire). She began her life in Australia in 1852 as a 27 year old domestic servant. A few months after her arrival in Melbourne, she married former convict Charles Plant in Scots Church.  Ellen featured in a blog post in March 2018.

Charles Plant (3 x gr-grandpa) is the only one of my ancestors whose ‘beginning =’ in Australia was imposed upon him by the British courts, having been convicted in the Cheshire Court of Petty Sessions in 1842 of stealing 7 pairs of stockings.  He served time  in Van Diemen’s land, making his way to Melbourne following the issue of his Ticket of Leave. Ellen and Charles had seven children, three of whom lived to adulthood, and lived a hard life in and around the goldfields of central Victoria.

Wilhelmine Jackel (3x gr-grandma) was born circa 1831 in Germany and married Johan Christian Westendorf in 1856 at St George’s Church, Gawler, South Australia. Her arrival in Australia is subject to further research but was possibly on the Adele  which arrived in Port Adelaide from Hamburg on 14 September 1856.  If this is the correct shipping record, she was 24 years of age and travelled as a single woman.

Joachim Heinrich Westendorf (4x gr-grandpa) and Luise Schonfeld (4 x gr-grandma) and their six children, including son Johan Christian Westendorf (3 x gr-grandpa) arrived in South Australia aboard the Suzanne in 1851.  Within a few years, they had moved to the Western district of Victoria.

Jesse and Harriet (nee Stone) Heal (3x gr-grandparents) (pictured at left) were born and married in Somerset, where Jesse worked as a gardener.  They arrived in Victoria in January 1857 aboard the William, along with three of their children, including daughter Rosina Heal (2 x gr-grandmother). A fourth child was born after their arrival and the family lived the Stawell district of Victoria.

Edward Jory (2x gr-grandfather) was born in Cornwall in 1839 and arrived in Victoria as a 24 year old single man aboard the Result in 1863.  He travelled around the goldfields working as a lay preacher before marrying Rosina Heal in 1870 and settling in Natimuk where the couple had a general store.

Robert and Jane (nee Moon) Lucas (4xgr-grandparents) arrived in Adelaide from Wiltshire aboard the Fairfield in December 1840 along with a number of their children, including daughter Jane Lucas.

Charles Mathurin Leon DeLaine was born as Charles Mathurin Leon Laine in Etretat, Le Havre, France on 7 February 1818.  His arrival in Australia is cloaked in folklore but the latest research indicates he walked off a whaling ship in New Zealand in 1836.  The details of his arrival in South Australia are still to be determined. He married Jane Lucas in 1843. (More of his story in blog post dated 8 February 2018)

David and Emma (nee Hill) Mills (3xgr-grandparents) were born and married in Wiltshire and arrived in South Australia aboard the Sibella in July 1848 along with several of their children, including son George Mills (2xgr-grandfather).

Emma’s parents Thomas and Rachel Hill (4xgr-grandparents) arrived in Australia the following year aboard the Ramilles  along with several of their children.

David’s parents John and Mary (nee Ingram) Mills (4xgr-grandparents) arrived aboard the Oriental in November 1855 with their son Job and daughter MaryAnn.

Anthony Nicholson (Ruddick) Teasdale (2xgr-grandfather) remains somewhat of a mystery man, not the least of which is his change of last name from Ruddick to Teasdale.  He was in South Australia by the time he married Agnes Sprott Wilson (2xg-grandmother) in 1869.

Hugh and Margaret (nee Grant) Wilson (3x gr-grandparents ) arrived from Scotland in South Australia from Scotland in 1862 aboard the Castle Eden along with their children, including daughter Agnes Sprott Wilson (2x gr-grandmother).

Sunday, 7 June 2020

A special dress for a special day


52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks
Week 23 | Wedding

Harold Thomas Jory and Ellen Priscilla
Westendorf, wedding portrait, 1913
The wedding of my great-grandparents Harry and Ellen Jory was reported thus by The Horsham Times (Victoria, Australia) on 22 April 1913:

A quiet but pretty wedding was celebrated at Miram when Mr Harry Jory, manager of the Lawloit Times was united in holy wedlock to Miss Ellen Westendorf, daughter of Mr and Mrs Westendorf of Miram. The ceremony was performed by the Rev. Allen of Kaniva in the presence of the young couple’s most intimate friends and relations. After the wedding breakfast had been partaken of and the young couple had received the congratulations of their friends, they took their departure by the evening train to their home at Kaniva.

Many years later, Ellen’s youngest sister Else told me the story of Ellen’s bridal dress.  Apparently, Ellen had told her parents that she would be married in a dress from her current wardrobe.  However, her father Jack didn’t think this was good enough and went to town and purchased the oyster satin gown shown in the bridal photograph as a surprise.  “She was always the favourite”, added Else.

Harry and Ellen enjoyed 43 years of marriage, before Harry died in 1956 at age 70 years.  They had two daughters and three grandchildren.

Sunday, 10 May 2020

Frederick McKinlay: a lifetime of service to teaching


52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks
Week 19 | Service
  
Frederick McKinlay, circa 1890s

This week’s theme makes me think of the public service, an over-arching term used to describe employment in the government sector, including public schools, and one in which many of my family have worked.

My great-grandfather was the first of our McKinlay family to be born in Australia and was the first in what has become a long line of teachers in the family.  His entire working life, starting at age 13 years, was spent in the service of the Queensland Education Department; a teaching career that spanned over 40 years.

Our teachers have been under an enormous amount of pressure in recent months, which makes it even more fitting that this week I shine a light on the amazing work they do, through the story of Frederick McKinlay.


Frederick McKinlay, born 24 July 1879 in Rockhampton, was a first-generation Australian.  His father John McKinlay was a ship’s engineer from Scotland and his mother Margaret Ann Stewart a domestic servant from Ireland.  Purportedly, both arrived in Australia on the same ship, the Scottish Bard, in 1868 (although evidence of John’s arrival has not been found to date). John and Margaret married in Rockhampton in 1878 (23 September).

The couple moved between Rockhampton and the seaside town of Emu Park for many years. The first evidence of Fred’s own education is his admission to Rockhampton Primary School at the age of 8 years and 3 months in 1887.  The following year, his father was working at the Tranganbar Gold Mine where John secured the services of a retired school master purchased a large tent for use as a makeshift school for the children at the mine.  From there the family went back to Emu Park, where Margaret ran a boarding house and Fred and his siblings continued their education at Emu Park School. 

In 1893, at the age of 13 years, Fred began his teaching career, when he was admitted by the Education Department as a pupil teacher at the Emu Park State School. The pupil-teacher system was essentially an apprenticeship scheme, with training provided on the job in schools by the head teacher of the school.  Fred trained under the supervision of Benjamin Long and qualified as a teacher on 31 December 1897.

During the early years of his career, Fred underwent regular observation by the District Inspector.   The Inspectors’ comments are brief and recorded in cramped hand-writing in Fred’s teaching record but he is generally described as a fair classroom teacher, who kept good order in the classroom, was intelligent and industrious and achieved satisfactory results.  Although, one inspector was less impressed, noting that Fred had fair disciplinary powers of the repressive order, does work in a vigorous but superficial way, and very unwilling to do work outside specified school hours.  This last report was by District Inspector Brown who features in another chapter in the life of Fred in a rather negative way so one wonders whether DI Brown was an inherently critical man or just had something against Fred. But I digress.  Newspaper reports and reminiscences of former students suggest that he was a successful, valued and kindly teacher with a genuine appreciation of his students and commitment to their education.

Fred was steadily promoted during the early years of his career, rising through the various levels to Head Teacher by 1908.    Over the forty years of his career, Fred taught at a dozen  schools around Central Queensland and was Head Teacher at four of these:  Emu Park, Georgetown, Rockhampton Central (Boys), Leichardt Ward, Mt Chalmers, Stanwell, Marmor, Brandon, Hamilton Creek, Mt Morgan Boys School, Maryborough Central, and Albert State School (Maryborough).

Francia Dow and Frederick McKinlay
Wedding portrait, January 1908
When Fred was transferred from Leichardt Ward School to Mount Chalmers Provisional School at the end of 1907, Head Master Benjamin Long expressed sorrow that the school was losing Fred, who had been with them almost since the opening of the school and felt they could not allow him to go without a small memento of their esteem.  Mr. Long indicated that Fred would be very much missed as he had been a thoroughly good teacher, a most loyal assistant, and always ready to help in all those ‘hundred and one things’ a teacher had to do out of school.  He wished Fred well with the transfer and his impending marriage to Francia Dow (also a teacher) and hoped the important step he was taking would lead to the further advancement of his career.  He felt that Leichardt Ward’s loss was Mount Chalmers gain.  Fred was presented with gifts from the teachers and children – a silver teapot and biscuit barrel.  Fred expressed his sincere thanks for the beautiful presents and to Mr. Long for his kind words, attributing ‘most of his success in life’ to Mr Long, by whom he had been taught both as a student and as a trainee teacher. 

Mt Chalmers was his first posting as a Head Teacher.  The prior Head Teacher was his new wife (who was required to resign from teaching when she married) which must have been an interesting transition.  Fred spent just one year at Mt Chalmers, but was remembered warmly by one student 75 years later.  Violet Armstrong recalls the day when she was eight years old and some mineworkers came to the school and took Fred outside to talk to him.  Upon returning to the classroom, Fred said, “Lillie, Darry and Violet, your mother wants you at home as there has been an accident at the mine”.   He then put on his trademark white helmet, took the children by the hands and led them out to collect their hats and bags from where they hung on the veranda.  He accompanied the children on their walk through the scrub and it was only as they neared their home that he informed them that their father had been killed.  Hearing this news, Violet recalls that she panicked and fled into the bushland but years later appreciated the kindness of Mr McKinlay walking her and her siblings home.

Stanwell State School was bounded by a creek, which regularly flooded in heavy rains, rendering the children unable to cross and attend school.  Rather than have the children miss school, Fred purchased a boat at his own expense and rowed the children across the creek each morning and afternoon.   Fred’s ferrying services rapidly expanded to the general public and in representations to the Fitzroy Shire Council for the construction of a footbridge across the creek, he described  having made over 100 trips across the creek to oblige dairymen, travellers and stockmen, even carrying a cyclist and his motorcycle on one occasion. 

In his roles as Head Teacher, Fred regularly advocated for improvements to the school facilities for the benefit of teachers and students alike.  While at Stanwell School, another significant infrastructure problem was that of the latrines, which apparently filled with water during heavy rains and emitted a ‘most awful stench’.  In correspondence to the Department, he describes having to ‘rush from the ‘office’ with disarranged garments (fortunately ‘twas dark) the stench was so bad.  Mrs McKinlay is quite unable to use the ‘office’ and has to make arrangements neither convenient nor agreeable’.  He also expressed concern that these conditions were making children ill and cited the genuine risk of typhoid.  At Marmor School, he was successful in efforts to have a new school building erected and improvements made to the teacher’s residence.

As Head Teacher Fred was also responsible for facilitating the many extra-curricular activities of these small rural schools.  At Stanwell School many successful Arbour Day events were held, raising money through Sports Days and dances. At Hamilton Creek school the end of the school year was regularly celebrated with large picnics.  Upon his move south to schools in the Maryborough District, he was involved with various sporting bodies, especially in swimming carnivals and as secretary of the combined District State School Sports Association.

The school buildings in rural schools were regularly used by community groups such as the Ambulance Brigade and Progress Association for social and civic activities.  This required Fred to write tedious memos to the Department seeking permission each and every time a community group requested use of the facilities.   

Fred was also active in professional networks and held several committee roles with the Teachers’ Association (Mount Morgan and Dawson).  A particularly vexed topic was homework, which Fred asserted was a nuisance for teachers but argued was invaluable to those children who regularly requested it but did not believe it needed to be mandatory and advocated for an approach that gave students some involvement in the choice of task.   His professional activities also involved him supervising pupil teachers.

Fred also had an interest in what we now call ‘adult education’ or ‘lifelong learning’ and was a member of the public lecture sub-committee of the Mount Morgan Technical College which organised talks and lectures on a variety of topics for the broader community.

Hamilton Creek School, circa 1920s
The longest posting of Fred’s career was to Hamilton Creek State School, outside Mt. Morgan.  This was when Mt. Morgan was in its heyday and there were numerous state schools serving the township.  It was here that Fred’s three children grew up and attended school.  Fred appreciated a nice garden and the prolonged period he spent at Hamilton Creek provided an opportunity to see his plantings established and flourishing.   A rose bush was planted for every child along the lane down to the road.  Tall sprinklers were installed to spray the garden.  A lush quisqualis rambled on the veranda rails of the teacher’s residence. 

 During his years in Hamilton Creek Fred purchased a Model T Ford.  A former fellow student of his daughter Mavis McKinlay, at the age of 103 years, recalled Fred as follows: ‘Oh yes! McKinlay! He was the school teacher chap. Drove his daughters to school every day in his Model T Ford’.  [See Week 2’s post for more on this story].

In May 1927, Fred was transferred to the Mt Morgan Boys School.  The locals gathered in the school on a Saturday night to farewell him.  Mr. F. Toppenberg, an engineer with the Main Roads and President of the Progress Association, presided and in his remarks eulogised Fred’s qualities, both as a teacher and as a resident among them.  Fred was presented with a gold pencil and Francia with a silver memento cup as a token of affection and esteem.  Mr. Campion also spoke of Fred in glowing terms.  Fred offered the appropriate responses.  The speeches were followed by musical items (including some performed by Fred’s own daughters), dancing, and supper.

In 1936, Fred took substantial sick leave during July and August. Unfortunately, in December that year, he was admitted to the Nundah Private Hospital and passed away on Boxing Day from complications following emergency surgery for bowel cancer.  This was only three week after the death of his mother.

Fred’s obituary describes him as “very popular with the scholars”, which is a short statement for forty years of work, but a lovely way to be remembered.

There was obviously much more to Fred than his role as a teacher.  He was a son, brother, cousin, husband, father, uncle, grandfather and friend, but that, as they say, is a story for another day.  This week was all about service and Fred definitely put in many good years with the education department, starting a tradition of teaching in the family – his brother also trained as a teacher (although only worked in this profession for a few brief years), both his daughters trained as teachers, and at least six of his grandchildren and great-grandchildren are or have been involved in education.

Here’s to Fred and all the wonderful teachers out there, continuing this tradition of service to education.

Monday, 4 May 2020

Stanislaw Slobodian and his three sons


52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks
Week 18 | Where there's a will...

This week’s story isn't about an ancestor; rather it’s about long-term neighbours who feature in our family story.  I don’t know all the details of the Slobodians’ family story but their broader narrative leaves no room for doubt that they faced great sadness, untold horrors and overcame significant challenges in order to take up farming next door to my Davey family in Eight Mile Plains (Queensland, Australia).  

This is their story as compiled from recollections told to me by my mother, Irene Davey, and publicly available sources.

Zenowij Slobodian, circa 1949
On 20 April 1949, former Ukraine national Stanislaw Slobodian and his three sons, Wolodoymyr, Zenowij, and Omelan stepped off the immigrant ship Svalbard and onto Station Pier in Melbourne.  It was Omelan’s 19th birthday.  This was their first day in Australia.  They had boarded the ship a month earlier in Genoa, Italy, along with 896 other displaced persons, all seeking a new life in Australia following World War II.  

At the end of World War II, there was no recognized Ukrainian state and there were approximately two million Ukrainians amongst the twenty million ‘foreigners’ who found themselves stranded in Germany when the fighting ceased. All but approximately 200,000 of the Ukrainians returned either willingly or by force to what was by then the USSR.  The majority of those who remained in Germany subsisted in approximately 80 (out of a total of 700) displaced persons camps which were for Ukrainians, awaiting resettlement in countries such as Australia, the United States, and Canada.  The Slobodians had been in Amberg, a camp in US occupied area of Germany, until the International Refugee Organization arranged their immigration to Australia.[1]  In exchange for free passage and help on arrival, they agreed to work for the government for two years.[2]

Frightened by the near invasion of Australia by the Japanese, Prime Minister Ben Chifley had decreed that Australia must grow its population as rapidly as possible.[3]   In 1949, the Minister for Immigration, Mr A A Callwell anticipated the year would be “the most vigorous Australian migration year since the gold rushes of the 1850's”.[4]  An estimated 25,000 immigrants were expected to arrive in the month of April alone.  Displaced persons from camps in Europe were expected to make up 11,299 of the immigrants.[5]   The Slobodians were four of this number.

Soon after disembarking the Svalbard in Melbourne, the immigrants boarded a train for the seven-hour journey to Bonegilla migrant reception camp in Wodonga on the Victorian/New South Wales border. It was intended that newly arrived immigrants would spend several weeks in the camp receiving education on life in Australia and then be dispatched around Australia to industries such as hydro-electric schemes, cane-cutting, timber-cutting, brick-making and harbour construction.  It wasn’t always this easy, however, and some stayed months, if not years, in the reception camps. [6]

The details of how long the Slobodian men stayed in Bonegilla has not yet been determined but it would seem they found work and completed their two year obligation quite quickly as by 1951, Stanislaw, Omelan and Zenowij were in Queensland. Stanislaw purchased part of my grandparents’ farm in Eight Mile Plains, thus becoming our neighbours. Pop Davey sold Stanislaw the already established part of his 40 acre block. While he was constructing a new house for his family on the portion he retained, the Slobodians lived in one of the sheds while the Daveys continued to occupy the ‘old house’. After the Daveys moved to their new house, Stanislaw built a new house to replace the Daveys’ old one. The Slobodians named the property ‘Liliana’.

Although Stanislaw was listed as ‘single’ on the passenger list for the Svalbard, he had been married to Liliana, mother to his sons, but had lost track of her during the turbulent years of the war. Presumably unable to determine her fate or whereabouts, he immigrated without her. Irene recalls that many years later (possibly in the early 1960s), she was located and brought out to Australia. Irene remembers that Liliana couldn’t believe the freedom of Australia. She used to walk down to the catch the bus, saying in wonderment, ‘I go shopping’; amazed that she had money to buy things, that there were things in the shops to buy, and that no-one was stopping her.[7]

Prior to arriving in Eight Mile Plains, Omelan had been working in the forestry somewhere around Kilcoy. In April 1951, he was one of six men injured when a timber truck collided with a utility on the Jimna-Goomeri Road.[8] Omelan suffered compound fractures of both legs and was transported to the Brisbane Hospital.[9] Unfortunately, both legs had to be amputated and he was fitted with artificial legs. However, Irene recalls him dancing and riding a bike with ease.

Omelan subsequently moved to Adelaide where he was heavily involved with the Ukrainian Scouting movement, Plast, and the Ukrainian Philatelic society. He married and had two sons. Omelan died in 2015. In 1966, Irene was working in a fruit canning factory in the Riverina for the summer where she made friends with a girl who was Russian Orthodox. One weekend they travelled to Adelaide to attend church, and Irene was amazed to find Omelan, her one-time neighbour from Eight Mile Plains sitting in the front row.[10]

Zen also worked in Jimna, presumably with the forestry, but later was able to resume his profession as an electrician. His alien registration card indicates that he also went to Adelaide for a short time but subsequently returned to Eight Mile Plains where he built another house on the far back section of the block Stanislaw purchased. Zen married and had three children. He died in 2019.

From Bonegilla, Wolodymyr appears to have gone to Adelaide but also to have lived in Wodonga for a period of time. Wolodymyr married, but how many children he had, if any, is unknown for now.

Today, the Slobodians are recognized with several street namings in Eight Mile Plains – Slobodian Avenue, Lilywood Street (named for the family’s wife and mother), and possibly Stanley Place[11] – and their descendants continue to live in various parts of Australia, some having forged very successful careers.

Along their journey, Stanislaw (and his sons) no doubt asked 'will?' many times:  Will we survive the war? Will we see each other again? Will we get out of the displaced persons camp? Will we find a new life? Will we like Australia?  Will we fit in? Will we find jobs? Will I walk again?  Will I see my wife again?  But their story proves that where there's a 'will', there is hope and possibility.

NOTE: I’m far from an expert (in fact, I know barely anything) on Ukrainian history, the fate of Ukrainians during World War II, displaced persons camps or immigrant resettlement, and I haven’t met any Slobodian family members (yet).  There is much more to the story of this family than is contained here (although my wish is that I might have an opportunity to learn more one day). In piecing together this brief account of our neighbours of twenty-plus years, the Slobodians, I hope I have not only acknowledged their part in our family's story, but have respectfully paid tribute to their part in Australia’s story.



[1] Summary drawn from information contained in the notes from a lecture presented by Professor Orest Subtelny, Friday March 7, 2003 at the Ukrainian Museum in New York City, http://www.brama.com/news/press/030311subtelny_DPcamps.html
[3] Ibid
[4] ‘Great Migrant Armada’, The Scone Advocate, 1 April 1949, p. 7
[5] Migration in Australia, op cit
[6] Migration in Australia, op cit
[7] Pers comm., Irene Davey, April 2020
[8] ‘6 Injured in Collision’, Brisbane Telegraph, 7 April 1951, p. 4
[9] Ibid.
[10] Pers. Comm., Irene Davey, April 2020
[11] Stanislaw later went by the name Stanley