Rain, rain go away

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks | Week 16 – Storms

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Believed to be Annie McKinlay and her
brother John McKinlay

So the purpose of Amy’s challenge was to encourage us to write. What it’s proved to me is that while I enjoy writing, I love researching more. As evidenced in my lack of posts for the last few weeks. Each week, when I sit down to write, I find myself saying ‘Oh, I’ll just double-check that or see if I can find out more about the other’ and then the actual story doesn’t get written. But all that aside, here’s this week’s story about how a significant rain storm changed the course of my gr-gr-gr-aunt Anne (sometimes Annie) McKinlay Head’s life.

Anne McKinlay was the younger sister of my gr-gr-grandfather John McKinlay, and one of 10 children of Joseph and Margaret (nee Stevenson) McKinlay of Ayrshire, Scotland. It is well documented in the research of several of my cousins that four brothers, including John, from this family emigrated – three to Australia and one to New Zealand – with quite a lot of detail of their lives discovered and captured. So I turned my attention to looking into the lives of the other six siblings. Surprisingly, what I discovered is that Anne also emigrated to Australia.

Anne was born in 1865 in Monkton, Ayrshire. She appears as a 5 year old scholar in the 1871 Scottish Census with her parents and six siblings, living on Content Street in St Quivox. Ten years later, the 1881 census suggests that she is working as a servant in the household of Janet Cowan, Hotel Keeper, 2 Carrick Street, Ayr, while her parents and several siblings continue to reside just across the River Ayr on Content Street, St. Quivox. No-one matching Annie is found in the 1891 census. However, in the 1901 census, there is an Anne Head of the right age and birthplace, living in the same area of Ayr as Anne grew up in. The household on Elba Street includes Anne Head, a widow aged 35 years, born in Prestwick and her three children, ages 12, 10, and 8 years old all listed as having been born in Queensland, Australia. Did she really go to Australia and then come back to Scotland? And why?

On 4 December 1886, Anne, at the age of 20 years, set out from Ayr on a bleak and rainy night bound for London. In her diary, she reports the train journey as comfortable and describes Mr Cowan (perhaps a relative of her former employer) checking on her several times during the trip. She arrived in London early on Saturday morning and was met by her sister Mary. They spent Saturday and Sunday together, organizing Anne’s papers and boxes for the voyage to Australia and farewelling ‘all the old friends’. On Monday morning the sisters caught the train 6 hours southwest to Plymouth, where they found lodgings and spent several more days preparing for Annie’s departure, including a medical review and packing sufficient items for the voyage. On Thursday 9 December, after a sad farewell with Mary, Anne boarded the ‘Eastminster’, a three-masted sailing vessel. Finally, a week later, on Thursday 17 December, the ‘Eastminster’ set sail for Australia under the stewardship of Captain Rees. Three months later, on 19 March, 1887, the ‘Eastminster’ arrived in Hervey Bay and anchored in the dark in the mouth of the Mary River. On 21 March 1887 the passengers alighted in Maryborough and were taken to the immigrant depot while they waited to secure employment.

In 1888, Anne married John William Head. A daughter, Annie Louisa Head was born the same year, a son James Henry Head in 1891, and a second daughter Nellie in January 1893. At the end of January 1893, a tropical cyclone off the coast from Yeppoon influenced the development of an East Coast Low that brought torrential rainfall to southeast Queensland, causing flooding that is documented as one of the worst floods in Queensland’s history. The Mary River rose significantly causing widespread flooding across Maryborough, peaking at 12.27 metres on 5 February. Significant portions of the city were completely inundated. On 7 February, as the flood waters were starting to fall, Anne’s husband John was helping to wash out the second floor of the Grand Hotel (corner of March and Wharf Streets). The flood waters were still level with the second floor (about 14 or 15 feet deep) and John jumped out of second story window into the water to get into a boat. He then stood in the boat, guiding it along the wall of the hotel in order to reach another man who wished to get into the boat. John lost his balance and fell back into the water. He went under the water and did not resurface. There was a strong current and the boat drifted to the opposite side of the road. He was unable to be rescued and his drowned body was found two days later not far from where he was last seen. In the reports of John’s death, he is described as a gardener and well-respected in the community. An inquest into the drowning ruled his death accidental.

Anne suddenly found herself with three children under the age of five years and no husband. The townspeople rallied and a collection was taken up, resulting in Anne receiving the sum of £25/-/6, for which she gave public thanks by way of a notice in the Maryborough Chronicle in April 1893. Her plight also came before the Flood Relief Fund in March, however, it is unclear if she ultimately received any benefits. Despite the support of her community and having three brothers well-established in the colony and potentially able to offer assistance to their sister and her children, she returned to Scotland. The specific timing and circumstances of the return remain unknown, however, by 1901, Anne is living back in the same area of Ayr as she grew up in, along with her three children, and working as a laundress.

In March 1921, Anne’s daughter Annie Louisa emigrated to Canada in search of employment as a domestic servant. In September, Anne and Nelly joined her in Toronto, Ontario. Anne died in Toronto in 1945, having had a very different life than that which she likely imagined when she boarded the Eastminster in 1887; a life that was significantly changed by the fateful events following the very significant rainstorms in Maryborough (Queensland) in 1893.

The luck of the genealogist

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks | Week 11 - Lucky

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Inside cover

All the magazine articles and ‘how to’ books stress to family historians the importance of thorough, logical research, checking and re-checking facts, and not making assumptions. But sometimes the breakthroughs or greatest moments come through plain and simple good luck. 

As a heritage librarian, it’s not uncommon for me to receive calls from individuals wanting to know if I am interested in their family heirlooms. However, it was somewhat different recently when the call was from someone wishing to return an heirloom from our own family.

Recipe page

A recipe book belonging to my great-great-aunt Eva Dow had been purchased by the caller in an op shop in Tweed Heads. After trying out a few of the recipes, she decided it should be reunited with family members and set about to see if she could locate a descendant. A quick bit of googling led her to me via an article I wrote some years ago about Eva and helped her track me to my workplace.

Eva Dow, who I’ve written about before, was born in1886 and, until her death in 1969, was a much-loved central figure in the extended Dow family. She never married, having lost a beau in World War I, and had no children, but played an active role in the lives of her siblings, cousins, and nieces and nephews as well as being involved in community life in her home town of Maryborough.

Eva Dow ca 1960s

I was naturally very excited to learn of this family treasure but not overly surprised having had similar serendipitous ‘finds’ previously. But this does not make each and every such lucky happenstance any less special. My focus, of course, was on getting the book into my hands. Fortunately, the purchaser only lived a few hours’ drive away and I set off the next day to meet up with her.

The recipe book is not a published work but rather a blank notebook in which to write (or paste) favourite recipes. Sure enough Eva’s name was clearly written inside the front cover as well as the details of who gave it to her and when. It is filled with recipes handwritten by Eva, which include not only the ingredients but the name of the person from whom she got the recipe and a rating of how good it is. The book is in very fragile condition, with some of the pages brown and crumbling, but the recipes can be clearly read. There is also the occasional handy hint for things like how to kill rats and the etiquette of serving Yorkshire puddings.

We had no idea this book existed or that it had survived so we certainly weren’t looking for it. Where it’s been since Eva’s death in 1969 or how it got to the op shop in 2018 is not known. In a bittersweet twist, the purchaser told us that there were actually two books but she could only afford to buy one. We have a public call out currently hoping to hear from anyone who has more information or who might have purchased the other book.

In family history, thorough research is a necessity but sometimes nothing other than sheer good luck will reveal a hidden gem, particularly if there were no clues to its existence in the first place. But you can improve the chances of luck finding you by getting your family history stories out there (such as by blogging) where they can be found by other researchers who might contact you.

A royal connection??

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks | Week 10 - Strong

Ellen Boyne ca 1900

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Writing about a strong woman on International Women’s Day seems very apt. I started this piece about my 3xgr-grandmother Ellen Boyne for the Week 1 challenge and didn’t get it finished, so I’ll recycle it for this week’s post as there is no doubt she was a woman of great fortitude. She was also the ancestor that first sparked my interest in family history.

Family folklore told to me by my great-great aunt Else (Ellen’s grand-daughter) states that ‘Ellen was from a house of royalty of Boyne Castle, Scotland’ and purportedly the illegitimate child of Lord Boyne and the Countess of Skyfield, who subsequently married, thereby legitimizing Ellen’s birth.

Ellen allegedly emigrated to Australia on the ship ‘Bride’ to defy her family and escape her illegitimacy. In an alternate version she was shipped to Australia to rid the family of an embarrassment. Else also recalled the local postmaster in Ararat trying to get Ellen to accept registered mail from Lloyds of London. The presumption was that this had to do with an inheritance, however, according to Else’s memory, Ellen flatly refused to accept the correspondence. Other than her emigration to Australia, none of the above has been able to be proved or disproved.

What we do know is that Ellen arrived in Australia in 1852 as a 27 year old domestic servant. The ‘Bride’ had departed Plymouth in 1851 under the seamanship of Captain Natrass and docked in Hobson’s Bay (Victoria) 77 days later on 31 January 1852 (quite a fast trip for the times). The ship delivered a cargo of much needed emigrant workers to the Port Phillip colony, all of whom were apparently quickly hired. Ellen was hired two weeks after her arrival by O. Brown, Esq., of St. Kilda for the sum of £20 plus rations for three months. Her employer was quite possibly Octavius Browne, who is described as a ‘highly-esteemed merchant’. In 1852, he had five children under the age of 7 years and it appears that his wife Martha was pregnant so some domestic help would appear to have been much needed.

On June 11, 1852, four months after her arrival, Ellen married Charles Plant at Scots Church in Melbourne. Else believed that Ellen and Charles met aboard ship, however, no trace of Charles on board the ‘Bride’ could be found. Not surprising, as it turned out he came to Australia as a convict (something Auntie Else vehemently denied). However, witnesses to the marriage, Richard Wedge and Sarah Maria (nee Gordon) Melhuish, were aboard the ‘Bride’ with Ellen and married upon their arrival in the colony (whether they met on board or knew each other beforehand has not been established). Another element of the story of Ellen’s emigration is that because she was a lady she had to be chaperoned on the voyage to Australia as anything else would have been inappropriate. It is suggested that Richard and Sarah may have been these chaperones.

Not quite 10 months after the wedding, Ellen and Charles’ first son James was born in June 1853. At the time the couple were living in a tent at the top end of Collins Street (Melbourne). They then moved to the Victorian goldfields where they had six more children. Of their seven children, four died in infancy from fairly common (and today easily treatable) illnesses. The family lived in various goldfields locations before purchasing land at Crowlands/Eversley. During this time, Ellen was to bear another six children. Of the seven children, only two lived to adulthood, the others dying as infants or toddlers from fairly common (and now easily treatable) illnesses. Ellen was purportedly well-known as a midwife in the district, although no evidence of this has been found to date.

The marriage was apparently not an easy one with Charles being described by Else as ‘a worthless drunk’, which is probably something she heard Else or her mother say. However, Else also described Ellen as ‘pigheaded’. She purportedly worked as a midwife, however, her son James took responsibility for a large amount of the care and support of his mother and sister while they were growing up. In her later years, Ellen lived in the homes of her daughters in the Nhill district of Western Victoria. By this time, Ellen was receiving a pension and gave financial help to the family of her daughter Margaret (who was the mother of Else and my great-grandmother Ellen). Margaret’s husband Jack had a tendency to ‘fritter money away on gambling and drink’ and it is likely that Margaret relied upon Ellen’s assistance to provide for her family.

Ellen died in Nhill at the home of her daughter Mary Sanders in 1920 at the age of 91 years. Else remembers Ellen being bedridden in her later years and having very wrinkled, loose skin (Else said she used to pinch the skin on the back of Ellen’s hands to see how far up she could stretch it). Charles had long since vanished and his movements and whereabouts during this time have been hard to trace. It appears that he was admitted to the Rookwood Asylum in 1897 under the name Charles Crinks (possibly his mother’s maiden name) where he died in 1904.

Based on the ages listed in shipping, marriage and death records, her date of birth is in the range of 1825-1829. Neither Ellen’s marriage or death certificate provide any clues to her parentage. The birth records of her children provide the best clues to her birthplace, with four listing Inverness-shire, Scotland and two including a town (Nairn and Forres, which are about 10 miles apart). These towns are also only about 40 miles from Boyne Castle, which was the seat of the Earls of Seafield. A Helen Boyne appears in the 1841 census as a 15 year old female servant with the Chalmers family in Grants Close, High Street, Forres. In the 1851 census an Ellen Boyne appears as a 26 year old house servant in the home of Army Captain William McDonald in Lomond Street, Helensburgh, County of Dumbarton. This is a 150 miles south from Forres, however, her birthplace is listed as Forres, Morayshire which suggests this might be the same person listed in 1841. Perhaps she had already determined to emigrate and was making her south to embark.

While these pieces add up and have some parallels to the family folklore, there’s still not substantial enough evidence to prove or disprove the theories or establish her origins. Regardless of the circumstances of her start in life, I think it is safe to say that Ellen was clearly capable and resilient, travelling as a single woman halfway around the world to forge a new life, then enduring the hardships of life on the goldfields. Her marriage was not a successful or happy one and she suffered the loss of so many of her babies. But she also successfully raised three children to adulthood who married and had children, lived into her 90s, and is survived by many descendants around Australia. This took great courage and endurance and there’s no doubt that she, like so many others who lived similar lives in this era, was a very strong woman. But, alas, probably not a royal connection in our family tree.

Where there's a will

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks | Week 9

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Catherine Elizabeth Simpson
mother of Eva Dow

This week’s theme is ‘Where there’s a will’. The natural end to this sentence is ‘…there’s a way’. And this rings very true for family historians who are well known for their determined pursuit of their ancestors, believing that if they want it badly enough and work hard enough, they will find the answer. And sometimes the will is the way to the answer and was definitely the document that helped me progress two challenges in my research, one with spectacular results. This is not so much the story of a particular ancestor, but the story of how I found the faces to go with the names of numerous ancestors.

I have two spinster great-aunts in my family tree (on different branches). Both had purportedly not married due to having lost their beaus in World War I. Both cared for their aging parents and continued to live in the respective family homes for an extended period of time after the deaths of their parents. It seemed to me that there must have been a treasure trove of valuable family memorabilia in those homes and I was determined to try to track it down by identifying who had inherited their estates. This information would be contained in their wills. However, despite thorough searching of the wills and intestacies at the Queensland State Archives, I could not locate a will. Inquiries to the Public Trustee similarly yielded no results. The dates of death for the aunts was within the privacy period so I could not request their death certificates and, even if I could have, these documents were unlikely to give the information I was seeking.

John Simpson, father of
Catherine Elizabeth Simpson

I did know the addresses of the homes, and believed that the transfer of ownership and subsequent owner’s name would be listed on the title to the property. Titles for both properties were quickly and easily retrieved by Titles Office staff. Both indicated transmission by death and provided the details of the documents associated with those transactions. I requested copies of those records and, after several weeks of not so patient waiting, was rewarded with a full copy of the will and death certificate for both ladies. I now knew who inherited the estates

Knowing the names of the inheritors I was able to pursue the chain of inheritance. In the case of Auntie Eva, the estate was inherited by a relative to whom I have been extremely close throughout my life and upon asking, she told me that she did have a large box of old photos ‘somewhere in the garage’. This box, when retrieved, was the bonanza of which all family historians dream. It contained over 300 photos dating back to the 1880s and included images of ancestors never seen before. Miraculously, nearly all of them had names written on the back; many of the others were identifiable based on knowledge of the family and by comparison to other photos. In this case, my will combined with Auntie Eva’s will, proved to most definitely be the way to not only solve a research challenge, but to ‘meet’ myriad ancestors face-to-face.

POSTSCRIPT: Sadly, I was not so successful in tracking down Aunt Annie’s estate. She left “her all” to her “dear friend … in appreciation and grateful thanks for all the kindness and help she has bestowed upon me during our years of happy friendship”. It was lovely to know that this family member with whom contact had been lost had someone caring for her but sad to know that her treasures had passed out of the family. Unfortunately, the friend had also passed away by the time I found the information and despite very willful efforts, no relatives have been able to be located and alas that potential lode of family memorabilia may be lost for all time.

The guests at the party

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks | Week 5 - Heirloom

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Signature tablecloth of Fred McKinlay and Francia Dow

We are very fortunate in our family to have myriad wonderful heirlooms, but perhaps the most splendid of them is a tablecloth. This is not just any ordinary tablecloth but a signature cloth that dates from the engagement of my great-grandmother Francia Dow and great-grandfather Frederick McKinlay. Yes, the same young couple we met in last week’s scandalous post.

As I learned through the correspondence relating to the incident in Broadmount, Fred and Francia became engaged to be married in approximately September 1905 and the occasion was celebrated with a large party at the bride’s parents’ home in Maryborough, Queensland. Each guest signed a tablecloth and after the party each signature was embroidered over and a decorative border of shamrocks, perhaps as a wish for good luck to the young couple or maybe as a salute to Frederick’s mother’s Irish heritage. Francia’s mother Catherine and sister Eva were accomplished needlewomen (and pieces of their work are some of our family’s other treasured heirlooms). Francia also had skills in this area as she won several prizes for needlework during her school years. We don’t know for sure who did the embroidery on this tablecloth but it’s reasonable to think it was Catherine or Eva, as Francia was working at this time. The tablecloth features the names of 114 guests at the party, providing insight into the family dynamics and social set of this couple. This included, of course, the happy couple along with Francia’s parents and all five siblings and both of Fred’s sisters, but not his brother or parents.

Interestingly, also in attendance was the odious Mr. Fleming (who so harshly raised the matter of Fred visiting Francia alone on weekends – see last week’s post), along with his daughter Isabella May (who was the same age as Francia), Alexander Main (Mr. Fleming’s business partner and Treasurer of the Broadmount School Committee), David Mathieson, President and Secretary of the school committee, and his wife Patience Mathieson. So clearly the relationship between Francia and the school committee was not always as strained as it became after the Broadmount School was closed in 1906. I’ve also used the names on the cloth as clues to help to try to establish the identity of Eva Dow’s beau. Family folklore says he died in the war and this is why Eva never married (you can read more about this in Feeling Blue About the Browns, August 2015).

Researching the people behind the other names on the tablecloth is an ongoing project. The full list of names appears below. I’d love to hear from anyone who has a connection to any of the people listed.

Mabel A Adam	Ruby Crooks	Ruth Hayward	Percy Millard
F Appel	C E Culverhouse	Florrie Hayward	Elsie Milcs
I Appel	Francia Dow	T Hewitt	Willie Mills
John J Archibald?	Edgar G P Dow	R C Hill	James A Mulhern
Marie Ball	C E Dow	William Hill	Lois Nelson
Herbert John Barker	Eva Faenza Dow	May Hobau	Regina Neuman
_________ Barrett	Louis Henry Dow	William Jackson	Sydney Vincent O’Kane
Olive Bell	Victor H Dow	Isabel Julin	R Jno Orkney
M E Bell	John McD M Dow	E Julin	Nancy Orkney
John Bell	Louis S Dow	A Kelman	Bessie Petersen
Susie Bradesy	Edwin Dunlop	Mary Kruger	Bertie Roberts
James Brannelly	George Evans	E T E L_______	H. Naomi Roberts
P M Brannelly	Ida Evans	Isabel La Barte	E M Roberts
Fred Brooks	Lizzie Evans	Finlay John Lawson	H J Roden
C G Brown	Daisy Evans	Robert Liddle	Luke Schenalback
I Brown	Robert Fleming	Con Macnara	Berry Schemalleck
F B Brown	Isabel May Fleming	Alexr Main	H Sewell (Henry)
H Brown	F O Foster	Jesper Nielsen Mark	Ada Sewell
Alfred Bryant	Lucy Foster	Lucy E Marsh	Ethel Sewell
Bob/Babs Butcher	Alfred G. Freeman	David Mathieson	A A Sinclair
W John Byrnes	Florence French	Patience Mathieson	Frank Sommers
M S Cameron	Chas G French	J S McCallum	Tess Streeter
Madeline L Chambers	Violet French	Frederick William McCourtie	Imelda Struber
Harold Charles	Ethel French	Fred McKinlay	Harry W Sutton
Amy Charles	Frederick Charles Gamball	Helena McKinlay	Ethel Telfer
Joseph Cook	Ethel Griffith	P McPherson	Margaret Thomas
Thomas H Cook	Adah Hastings	Will Merrick	Roy Tabor Thomas
Jeanette B Turner	Lily Wockner	Annie Wockner
Walter Watson	Emily Wockner	Cecilia Emily Woodward

Scandal in Broadmount

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks | Week 7 - Valentine

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Francia Dow, 1904

Any number of love stories from our family tree spring to mind in response to this week’s theme. There’s great-aunt Jean who married her childhood sweetheart (who was also her first cousin) amidst much family disapproval; great-great aunts Eva and Annie who never married after losing beaus in World War I; and my grandma Rosina who lost her handsome husband far too soon. But I’ve chosen my great-grandmother, Francia Dow (1884-1943) whose romance with my great-grandfather caused a brief, but rather intense, scandal in a small central Queensland community in 1906.

Francia was born in 1884 in Maryborough (Queensland) the second of six children of Louis Henry and Catherine (nee Simpson) Dow. She excelled academically in her primary education at Albert State School and was awarded a scholarship to Maryborough Grammar School in 1898. Francia then undertook teacher training and, at the age of 19 years in 1903, was admitted as a teacher by the Department of Public Instruction. Teaching offered an honourable and profitable career to educated women at this time and with steadily rising numbers of children of school age, female teachers were increasingly utilized by the Department. There was no teacher training college in Queensland at the turn of the century and teachers were recruited and trained through the pupil teacher system. Although no records have been located, this is presumably how Francia received her training.

Francia’s first posting was to Broadmount Provisional School. Broadmount was a small, and quite isolated, port community on the Fitzroy River east of Rockhampton. The population of Broadmount was never large and dwindled as use of the port was scaled back. In 1906, the Broadmount Provisional School was closed due to small attendance numbers.  

The community was upset by the closure of their school and local businessman, Robert Fleming, sent an angry missive to the District Inspector, Thomas R. Brown. For reasons that remain unclear, much of his ire was directed at Francia, with accusations of ‘falsehoods’, ‘hoodwinking’, and ‘carrying on during school hours’. He further intimated that Francia had in some way orchestrated the closing of the school and that a gross impropriety had taken place in Francia receiving 6 weeks holiday rather than the standard 5. He asserted that this alleged misconduct was a result of ideas having been “put into her head by a young man a school teacher in the Leichardt School Rockhampton” (Robert Fleming, February 13, 1906).

The young man to whom he referred was Frederick McKinlay, another of the district’s school teachers. He was also a friend of the Dow family and, more importantly, he was Francia’s fiancé. Mr. Fleming goes on to allege that:

…this young man has been in the habit of riding down to B’Mount very near every week end, and as our teacher is living in a cottage far separated from any other house, every one can draw their own conclusions where he stops… now sir do you think such carrying on is right with young people especially teachers of young children (Robert Fleming, February 13, 1906) 

Mr. Fleming also asserts that Francia's farewells to this young man on the wharf at the end of these weekend visits were too fond.   

Fortunately, Francia appears to have had an ally in the District Inspector, Mr. Thomas Brown, who gave the young couple an opportunity to respond to the charges, accepted their representations, then staunchly supported them in defense of the allegations against them.

Although Mr. Brown had indicated that he would not involve Francia’s father, Fred happened to meet up with him, informed him of the matter and Louis lost no time in penning a letter in support of his daughter and her fiance:

I have the honour to state that my daughter is engaged to be married to Mr. F. McKinlay with my consent and her mothers. I have been acquainted with the fact that Mr. McKinlay has visited Broadmount every weekend and have quite approve [sic] of his having done so.  Mr. McKinlay will inform you of my wishes in the matter.  I have known Mr. McKinlay for sixteen or seventeen years and have always considered him and his family as most intimate friends. (Louis H Dow, March 2, 1906) 

Mr. Brown’s response to Mr. Fleming took a firm stance, urging that:

It will be well I think to consider separately what you say with reference to Miss Dow in her capacity as teacher, and the very serious reflections you make on her honour and reputation as a woman.

He closed the matter by stating:

In the present state of my knowledge of these matters I come to the conclusion that there are no substantial grounds for your charges and insinuations, and no call for further inquiry unless fresh facts are laid before the Ministers.  (Thomas R. Brown, District Inspector, 1 March, 1906)

Francia Dow and Frederick McKinlay
on their wedding day in 1908

Fortunately, nothing further appears to have come of this matter. Francia moved on to her next posting, Mt. Chalmers Provisional School where she taught for several years. Fred and Francia were married in 1908 and had three children – Mavis, Rae and Jock. Fred continued to teach at various schools around central Queensland, ably but unofficially assisted by Francia (as she was required to resign her position upon her marriage), until his death in 1936.

The events of 1906 were but a small chapter in Fred and Francia’s lives (albeit no doubt quite distressing at the time). For me, reading about it in school correspondence files over 100 years later, I was given a glimpse of my great-grandparents as typical young couple in love, finding opportunities to be together whenever and however they could.