FamilyHistory4u

When a Name is Not Enough.

2012-02-23T02:49:00.000-08:00

Our Ancestors' Lives in Context

Every family historian delights in the finding and adding of names of ancestors to the family tree. The significance of genealogy, however, lies not only in expanding branches and extending roots. The importance of investigating the historical context of the lives of ancestors cannot be underestimated. History unfolds before our eyes, is transformed, and shifts towards a more personalized perspective when we view it through the lives of our forebears. This is the first of a series of blogs I am writing where I examine how it helps to understand our ancestor's lives in their historical context.

Scottish Ancestors in Historical Context

The massacre of Glencoe in Scotland on February 13, 1692

For me, ( and for many others) being a family historian has always implied considerably more than just names and dates. I appreciate family history as a part of its wider context. In addition to its relevance to the background of our families, family history IS HISTORY. As each family historian compiles data about his or her individual family tree, collectively, we are recording the history of our world. Genealogy is much more than names and dates of births, deaths and marriages. When we record the lives of ancestors we are also recording their lives within the social, economic and political context in which they lived. Our ancestors fought in wars and took part in revolutions. They lived through through great famines and plagues. Ancestors were members of nobility, and royalty and many lived privileged lives. Predecessors suffered the indignation of poverty and social injustices. They saw innovation and great changes throughout the times in which they lived. Our forebears witnessed political unrest, economic growth and depressions. Industrial changes transformed the the world in which they lived and inevitably bore consequences for them personally. Ancestors committed crimes, performed noteworthy deeds, observed great art movements and diversity in architecture. Many had occupations that have names foreign to us and that no longer exist today but which offer us an unparalleled window through which to glimpse the past. Frequently, the social. economic or political conditions at the time of their lives were the reasons why our ancestors emigrated or were displaced. Our ancestors were eye witnesses to world events and their lives reflect the world's transition through time. Through the personal stories of our ancestors we are privileged to glimpse a personal perspective of history which refines and clarifies our understanding of our own historical background.

Scottish Highlanders going into Battle

Scotland's early recorded history is abundant with violence. Between the years 1688 and 1746 great Britain experience a wave of insurgence intended to restore King James VII of Scotland and II of England and his House of Stuart descendants to the throne. Amongst the ruthless feuds, battles and acts of treachery, one incident, which is possibly still today, most passionate in the minds of Scottish clans, was the Massacre of Glencoe on February 13, 1692. This treacherous event took place as a consequence of the Jacobite Uprising of 1689 and the failure of the Catholic Scottish MacDonald Highland Clans to pledge their support to the Protestant Monarchs of Britain, William and Mary. In August of 1691, King William III extended an offer of pardon to the Highland Clans providing they pledged their support to him before the end of that year and advised of inexorable consequences for failure to comply. The Clan Chiefs wrote to King James requesting his permission to register their allegiance to King William. With the bitter reality of defeat upon him, King James acceded. The winter of 1691 was especially harsh, however, and word of the King James' waive did not reach the isolated Highlands until mid - December, whereupon, the chiefs promptly set off to comply with the King William's request.

Alastair MacIain, Chief of the MacDonalds of Glencoe arrived at Fort William on December 31, 1691, to pledge his support for King William. Given a letter of protection which affirmed that he had arrived before the deadline he then headed to Inveraray to swear his oath before Sir Colin Campbell, the Sheriff of Argyll. In a plot hatched by English military commanders, whose animosity towards the highlanders was well known, several military companies led by Captain Robert Campbell were sent to Glencoe, welcomed and even billeted with Alastair McIain and the Glencoe MacDonalds. After a night of generous hospitality, on the part of the MacDonald Clan, the Campbells were ordered to 'fall upon the rebels'. The unsuspecting MacDonalds were attacked at 5 am on February 13, 1692. This bloodbath resulted in the slaughter of many MacDonalds, including Robert Campbell's own niece and her family. For Captain Robert Campbell. this was bitter sweet revenge for the 1689 plundering of his own lands at Glenlyon by the Glengarry and Glencoe MacDonalds. The Mort Ghlinne Comhann or murder of Glen Coe has had a very personal implication in both my husband's and my own backgrounds since we discovered that it was my very own Campbell ancestors, who 'fell upon' and treacherously killed his unsuspecting his MacDonald relatives.

Captain Colin Campbell's orders to 'fall upon' the MacDonald Clan

Explaining the treachery on the part of my Campbell ancestors requires some understanding of the political situation in the Scottish Highlands in the 17th century and even earlier as well as some knowledge of the Highland Clan system. Until 1493, the MacDonald Lords of the Isles were the greatest land and sea power in Britain after the Kings of England and Scotland. When King James VI forfeited their lands, he created a political void which the Campbell Clan quickly filled. They received Royal authority to accumulate land and to have legal rights to the lands belonging to other clans. The Campbells, especially the Earls of Argyll, became powerful Feudal Lords. For many centuries in the Scottish Highlands the basic system of society was the clan or clann which in Gaelic translates as 'children'. Contrary to popular belief, not every member of a clan was related to its chief. Many of the members were, however, there were also other ordinary people who relied upon the chief for protection. The clan system originated in early Celtic and feudal ideas where power depended upon land ownership and the size of the clan's manpower to fight battles. The Campbell's increased their power and influence in the Highland society until the 17th century when the Clan Donalds amongst other Clans joined the Royalist campaign. With the Campbells supporting the Parliamentarians, the MacDonalds saw this as a means of winning their lands back from the Campbells. Lawlessness reigned supreme in the Highlands and events attests to a violent history of feuds and battles between rival clans.

The Campbells of Argylle in Battle 1689

Alexander MacDonald of Drimindarach, 6 times great grandfather to my children was forced to forfeit his ancestral lands following the Rising of 1745 when he, as head of his Clan MacDonald of Sleat, supported Bonnie Prince Charlie. His son Charles MacDonald also lost his lands, which adjoined the property of the Earl of Moray in Invernesshire, when he played a leading role in the famous Battle of Culloden which took place on April 16,1746. Charles MacDonald, is reported to have single handedly smashed the gates of the Castle Carlisle and won it for the Highlanders. The battle of Culloden was the final battle in the Jacobite uprisings. This battle, fought on Drumossie Moor to the north east of Inverness, saw the final defeat of the Jacobite supporters and their attempt to restore the House of Stuart to the Throne of England. The Highland heroine, Flora MacDonald, who famously assisted Bonnie Prince Charlie to escape from The Isle of Uist to Skye, also sits illustriously on the family tree as documentation of family but significantly as illustration of history. I am pleased that my children can proudly relate the tale of the bravery of their 5 times great grandfather, Charles MacDonald at Carlisle Castle and that their own relative, Flora MacDonald dressed Prince Charles Stuart in women's clothing and sent him 'Over the Sea to Skye'. It is a lessor boasted, but just as treasured tale, that my own Clan Davidson and Clan Chattan ancestors became very drunk during the night preceding the famous Culloden Battle and contributed significantly to the loss of this great final clash between the French supported Jacobites and the Hanoverian British Government.

The battle of Culloden

Flora MacDonald depicted with Bonnie Prince Charlie [Painting by G.W. Joy]

Family History furnishes History with personal relativity. Understanding the history of battles between the Scottish Clans and the English Monarchy provided me with an historical backdrop against which I could sympathetically interpret our family history. Recorded historical chronicles of battles fought by the Scottish Highland Clans explained why a later ancestor and progenitor of Clan MacDonald, Alexander MacDonald, a qualified medical practitioner known as ' An Dotair Ruadh' (the red doctor) was living on rented lands at Gillin Farm in Sleat prior to and after, 1798 when he fought with the Glengarry Fencibles, and not as might be expected, on the ancestral MacDonald lands of Kilmalew and Drimindarach.

Gillin Farm in Sleat, which Alexander MacDonald leased.

Mathew MacDonald, grandson of Alexander and great great grandfather of my husband was born in around 1812, in the house at Gillin farm, pictured above. Mathew arrived in Australia in 1837 on board the William Nichol , the first of the ships to bring Scottish Highlanders to Australia as part of the Dunmore Lang Scheme. Reverend John Dunmore Lang, a young Scottish missionary, and later an ordained Minister, began an immigration scheme in NSW in 1837, through which he was instrumental in bringing many new colonists to Australia. His vision was twofold. Not only did Lang see his scheme as a way to offer hope for a better life for immigrants, but he viewed his immigration scheme as a plan to rectify what was in his opinion, a moral plight, in the Colony. Since a vast number of convicts in Australia were Catholic Irish, Lang's concept was to balance the inequity between Catholic and Protestant settlers by populating the rural areas of the colony with Protestant farmers, thereby expanding the number of Presbyterian Churches as well as prospective Ministers for the church.

Reverend John Dunmore Lang

To understand why Mathew MacDonald and his wife Mary McPherson along with many other Scottish Highlanders chose to leave the kinship of the home they knew so well, requires a review of the economic circumstances in Scotland in the 1830's. In the early part of that decade, Scotland was in the midst of a surge of industrial and commercial enterprise, which in addition to a significant population increase, had a disastrous effect on the living conditions for the essentially agricultural and isolated highlands. Large scale emigration from the Scottish Highlands was predominantly the consequence of destitution forced upon the farm workers.

Mathew MacDonald ( born c 1812) as the first born son of Charles MacDonald, Tacksman* of Ord, a substantial landowner and progenitor of the Clan MacDonald of Sleat does not appear to meet the criteria for the Reverend Lang's immigration scheme as neither a destitute farm worker, nor a Protestant. As the title, Family History would suggest, fundamentals of family must unavoidably be taken into account, alongside evidence of history. According to Scottish naming patterns observed traditionally and strictly by Scottish Clan Progenitors, Mathew, as the first male child of Charles MacDonald of Ord, should have inherited his grandfather's name of Alexander, a name later given to the first son of Charles of Ord by his wife Anne Mcleod whom he married in 1828. Mathew's family circumstances - the identity of his mother is unknown, he was not afforded the traditional family name, augmented by historical evidence - Scottish marriage traditions, lead to the conclusion that he was most likely, the child of a handfast marriage, which although recognised at the time in Scotland was probably not acknowledged by the family. Traditional European handfasting, or marriage by mutual consent, was commonly performed by the binding or exchanging of rings, and was a particularly popular custom in the Hebrides and especially on the Isle of Skye. Although not recognised by the Church, handfasting was known to be practised on the Ise of Skye into the 19th century. Handfasting is mentioned by a number of authors with reference to The Isle of Skye, including Walter Scott [The Monastery]. Mathew was never destined to inherit the progenitorship of the Clan MacDonald of Sleat, nor it appears to be well educated as were his younger half siblings. His occupation, confirmed on the passenger list of the William Nichol, was that of a shepherd.
* a tacksman is a leaseholder, especially in Skye, who sublets to tenants.

Family anecdotes portray Mathew's decision to leave the Isle of Skye as the result of his father not approving of his marriage to Mary McPherson, nanny to Mathew's half siblings. That Mathew never again spoke to his father, supports the family anecdote , however, there is little doubt that Mathew and Mary MacDonald were part of a mass wave of emigration from the poverty stricken agricultural highlands.

Ord House, home of Charles MacDonald, Mathew's father.

Of course not all of our ancestors have illustrious lines which can be traced back to John, Lord of the Isles through both his wife Amy McRuari (a commoner) and Princess Margaret Stewart, daughter of King Robert 11 of Scotland. My Campbell ancestors are understandably unpopular amongst this proud MacDonald family so when I announced my intention some years ago to name our baby, Campbell MacDonald White, my father in law declared vehemently that 'No grandchild of MINE will bear the name of Campbell WITH MacDonald.' Fortunately we had a daughter so the crisis was averted. Those MacDonald Clan members have long memories it seems!

John, MacDonald Lord of the Isles

Mathew and Mary MacDonald

On my family tree I have a Campbell who married a McDairmid, in Argyll. Their daughter, Sarah, was born in 1781 in Greenock, Renfrewshire, the same parish in which she married James McDade. Understanding some of Scotland's history has enabled me to understand why these proud, traditional farming Highlanders moved from the lands of their fierce kinship to live in the lowlands, in the dense city of Glasgow. Around 1762, small highland farmers or crofters began to be encouraged and often forcibly removed from the land to make way for larger and more profitable farming for wealthy land owners. Economic times were difficult and a succession of seasons of harsh weather and an increase in population, resulted in overcrowding and unprofitable agricultural use of highland farmland. Many people still view the Highland Clearances as having been an attempt to sever the power of the Clans. Historically, my McDairmid of Argyll ancestors were a part of the Highland Clearance and left the Scottish Highlands to live in Glasgow, where they and their descendants remained, working as coal miners.

James McDade, my fourth great grandfather was born in Ireland. He arrived in Scotland sometime in the 1790's, as part of an explosive wave of Irish immigration. Between 1790 and 1850 more than 300,000 Irish people arrived in Scotland from Ireland to find a better life. Most of these Irish migrants settled in Glasgow where, skilled in handloom weaving, they formed communities of independent cotton weavers in areas such as Bridgeton and Carlton. The influx of Irish weavers contributed significantly and positively towards the Scottish economy. Despite this, the Irish were generally not welcome in Scotland and the Catholic Irish migrants were especially unpopular. My ancestors were coal miners not weavers and they were Catholic, so it is entirely likely that they suffered discrimination and hardship because of this. The large number of Irish migrants arriving in Scotland caused serious housing and health problems in Glasgow in the early 1800's. From my knowledge of Scottish history during this period, I know that my McDade ancestors lived through serious typhus and cholera epidemics from 1817 onwards. 50% of deaths from these epidemics were children younger than 5 years of age. The relevance of this historical evidence for me personally is significant in that these epidemics almost certainly explain the deaths of all of James and Sarah McDade's children except for one. Their surviving son, James is my three times great grandfather. The death of one more child would have meant that I would not be here today. Placing my four times great grandparents, Sarah and James McDade within the historical context of their life, understanding the political, economic and social and circumstances of the world in which they lived, the events that they witnessed and the hardships they endured, has enabled me to understand more about them as real people.

Scottish Coal Miners

Amongst the ancestral names which I am researching in Scotland are, McDade, Campbell, McDairmid, Bonner, Gibson, Thompson, Rennie, MacDonald, McKinnon, McLeod, McPherson, MacAlister and McIntyre. The people who accompany these surnames all have forenames and dates of births, deaths and marriages. They have offspring and children. Their names and details fill the spreading branches of my family tree. When I search beyond those names and dates, to understand the historical context of my ancestor's lives, the more real my ancestors become, and my research becomes much more rewarding and fulfilling. The longer I linger in this personalised perspective of history the more I feel a part of history.

Preview of Part 2: German Ancestors in Historical Context.

Recently whilst on a trip to Toowoomba in Queensland where my Prussian great great Grandfather, Gottlieb Nerger settled in 1852 and married German born Christiana Siegler who arrived in Qld in 1864, I came across a document which showed that he had contributed 1 Pound towards the construction of the first Lutheran Church in Toowoomba.

Gottlieb Neger's name 3rd from the top.

First Fleet Memorial Gardens - Wallabadah NSW

2012-02-17T00:33:00.002-08:00

A Memorial Park for the First Fleet

Sign for the Memorial Garden from the northern approach on the New England Highway.

This blog could well be named 'Travels of a Genealogist', since many of my blogs involve 'finds' such as diaries, photographs and family heirlooms which I collect whilst travelling, mainly around Australia as well as overseas. On a return trip from Rockhampton to Sydney, a few years ago, I happened upon a wonderful Memorial Garden dedicated to the First Fleet. The Garden sits impressively in a park on the banks of the Quirindi Creek, in a small town called Wallabadah, approximately 60 km south of Tamworth and 359 km north of Sydney in New South Wales. Wallabadah is situated on the New England Highway and lies on the eastern rim of the Liverpool Plains. On the occasion when I discovered the Memorial Garden, I had only a short time to spend there, but I knew that I needed to return. Back in Sydney, I discussed the memorial with a friend of mine who had ancestors on the First, Second and Third Fleet. We both wondered why a memorial to the First Fleet would be situated so far from its landing place in Sydney.

On a recent journey from Tamworth to Sydney, I made certain that the First Fleet Memorial Garden was on my list of places to visit and finally the question of why a First Fleet Memorial is situated in Wallabadah, has been answered for me by the sign pictured below.

On this, my second visit to the pretty little town of Wallabadah, I was thrilled to discover that the Memorial Garden now has a memorial added, for the Second Fleet as well as the First. The concept for, and construction of a Memorial to the First Fleet were the result of the determination of a Sydney born man named Ray Collins. Ray grew up knowing nothing of his convict origins and, in fact, only discovered, as an adult, that his ancestor's name had been changed from Cross to Collins to obscure the family's convict ancestry. Ray subsequently discovered that he had convict ancestors who had arrived in Australia with the First and the Second Fleet.

Building a Memorial as a tribute to the first European settlers who arrived in Port Jackson, and upon who's toil and hardship, our country was founded, became a passion for Ray Collins. He spent several years researching the First Fleet, gathering names and details of every person who sailed on the 11 ships which journeyed from England to the colony of Australia, arriving at Port Jackson on January 26 th 1788. The following ships made up the First Fleet of convict ships to arrive in Australia - HMS Sirius, HMS Supply, The Alexander, The Borrowdale, The Charlotte, The Fishburn, The Friendship, The Golden Grove, The Lady Penrhyn, The Prince of Wales and The Scarborough.

The Ships of the First Fleet anchored in Port Jackson

A stonemason by trade, Ray travelled throughout the country with his work, and everywhere he went he approached local councils with his idea of building a memorial to the First Fleet. After several years of consultation with councils, the Liverpool Plains Shire Council approved Ray's concept and offered to sponsor the materials and equipment for Ray Collins to build the Memorial Garden. The First Fleet Memorial Garden transformed a hardly used caravan park into a colourful and informative historical monument and was officially opened on January 26, 2005. Ray Collins lovingly chiselled each and every name on each sandstone tablet which line the pathways winding between the 11 circular gardens, each representing one of the 11 ships of the First Fleet. Within each garden is a stone tablet bearing the name and a picture of the ship.

Stone tablet in the centre of the first of 11 First Fleet gardens

The stone tablet for the 'Sirius" with my friend's ancestor Owen Cavenaugh's name on it.

In 2009 the memorial to the Second Fleet was opened in the Garden at Wallabadah. The Second Fleet Garden is designed with two gardens surrounded by stone tablets which are arranged by ship. Placed alongside the path throughout this section of the garden, are attractive, educational and informative signs.

The stone tablet bearing the name of the infamous Lady Juliana better known as the Floating Brothel

A stone tablet bearing names from the Lady Juliana, including that of my friend's ancestor Margaret Dowling.

One of the interpretive signs in the Second fleet section of the gardens.

A visit to the First Fleet Memorial Garden is well worthwhile, but enough time needs to be allowed to read the many interpretive boards which provide a wealth of intriguing information. The main Information Panel in the southern end of the Garden displays lists of supplies carried on ships, what goods people took with them, (including a surgeon named George Worgen who even took a piano on board with him on the ship Sirius) in addition to fascinating anecdotes about each voyage- facts about the journeys, the perils faced, interaction with the native peoples of Australia when they arrived and much more. Even if you do not have ancestors who journeyed to the new Colony on these convict fleets, this information provides an enormous amount of insight into voyages in general to Australia in the late 1700's and is a significantly educational tribute to Australia's convict past.

The First Feet Memorial Garden deservedly won a Cultural Award in 2009 for the Liverpool Plains Shire Council, in the Cultural Infrastructure section Division 1.

The Memorial Garden and Main Information Panel seen from the Entrance to the Garden.

The cobblestone path which winds its way through the 11 gardens and ships of the First Fleet.

The Flag Pole and Fully Rigged Picnic Area in the Memorial Garden.

As I walked through the Memorial Garden, I couldn't help but be impressed by the loving effort that Ray Collins had put into this tribute, not only to his own convict ancestors, but to remember all of those who journeyed to Australia on the first voyages. I decided, as my own tribute, to photograph every single tablet in the garden. The look on my husband's face when I announced my intention to do this was priceless! (there are a lot of names!) I cannot display all of these photographs here, however, if you or anyone you know have First or Second Fleet ancestors I will be pleased to pass on the photographs of the names of the ship on which they arrived as well as the tablet bearing their names.

Standing in front of the First Fleet Information Panel on the southern side of the Garden

A Close Up View of the main Information Panel

George Bouchier Worgan, Surgeon, 'Sirius' "Took a piano with him".

The First Fleet Memorial Garden is open seven days a week and a gold coin donation helps to maintain this beautiful and historically important tribute which Ray Collins single handedly erected.

Postscript:

Ray Collins' ancestor, John CROSS, was born in 1757 in Wiltshire, England, At the age of 29 years he was charged with stealing sheep and sentenced to 7 years transportation. John Cross arrived in Port Jackson in 1788 on board the ship The Alexander. John married Mary Davidson (or Davison) who was transported on the Lady Juliana and the couple had 9 children. John Cross died in 1824 and was buried at Windsor. His son, David was a Stonemason, who built the Victoria Inn which still stands at Wiseman's Ferry.

Further information about the First Fleet Memorial Garden can be found at:

http://www.fellowshipfirstfleeters.org.au

2012 Australia Day Blogging Challenge - Twigs of Yore

2012-01-24T22:15:00.000-08:00

Wealth for Toil

Following the success of her 2011 Australia Day Geneablogging Challenge, Shelley, of Twigs of Yore has issued another exciting invitation to bloggers with Australian roots to celebrate Australia Day, 2012. Inspired by the words from our Australian National Anthem, Advance Australia Fair, Shelley has put forth the title 'Wealth for Toil' as this year's geneablogging challenge.

For anyone who does not live in Australia, this day is an official National Day in Australia, which commemorates the arrival of the First Fleet ( a fleet of 11 British Ships under the command of Captain Arthur Phillip) at Sydney Cove on January, 26, 1788 and the founding of an English Colony in Australia. Australia day has now become a day also to recognise the indigenous people who lived in this great land of ours for many thousands of years before the arrival of the First Fleet.

This flourishing ' sunburnt' country known as Australia has been built on the back of immigrants and their hard 'toil', rising from a land of trees, mountains, rivers and great hardship to become a prosperous nation. Australia as we know it today, is the result of the toil of our ancestors, be they convicts or marines who arrived on the First Fleet or the many immigrants who have landed on these shores since 1788, from all parts of the globe.

My ancestors in Australia include 4 convicts - 3 times great grandparents, (plus one great great great uncle who was a convict ) (Frayne, Williams, Kelly), a Prussian ancestor (Gottlieb Nerger) who was a Pioneer of Drayton, Toowoomba, and who died whilst gold mining in Gympie, Qld. Gottlieb arrived in Australia in 1852 on board the Caesar Godeffroy. I have a great great grandmother, Christiana Siegler, who came to Australia in 1863 from Weurttemberg, Germany, Swiss g g g grandparents who sailed from Hamburg in 1871 to land in Maryborough, Queensland, (Jacob Häberling, a Bootmaker and Anna Ryser,who came to this country to make a better life for themselves and their 5 daughters), as well as other English, Scottish and Irish ancestors (Weston, Morrison, Hoyes [via New Zealand], McDade, White).

Choosing an ancestor to write about, using the criteria (below) provided, offered a challenge of its own.
1.My ancestor's occupation.
2. Information about my ancestor's work or occupation.
3. My ancestor's story, focussing on his or her occupation.

Leaving the 'wealth' factor out of the equation, all of my ancestors toiled hard to make better lives for themselves - well, with the exception of one convict who, seemingly unwilling or unable to abandon his erring ways continued to rob, cheat and depend upon His Majesty's Prisons throughout his life in Australia. ( That crossed him off the list of contenders to write about immediately - little toil to speak of and definitely no wealth!))

I decided to write this post in dedication of my great great grandfather, John Morrison, who I believe was the ancestor who has left behind, the most tangible and important legacy of his hard toil and life in Australia.

JOHN MORRISON - 1847-1927 - Wealth for Toil

Grave of John Morrison and wife Hannah Tait Gair in Cooroy, Queensland

John Morrison, my great great grandfather on my maternal side of the family tree, was born in 1847 in Aberdeenshire, Scotland to parents William and Elspeth Morrison. At some time prior to the age of 22 years, John moved to Northumberland in England where he met and married Hannah Tait Gair in South Shields, Durham in September of 1869. The 1871 English Census shows John's occupation to be a house carpenter in Newcastle on Tyne.

In December of 1878, John and Hannah Morrison arrived in Melbourne, Australia on board the ship 'Kent' with four children, Martha Ann (1870), Alice Jane (1872), Elizabeth (1874) and John William (1877). In 1879 a daughter Alexandrina was born to John and Hannah in Mortlake, Victoria. In this same year son, John William aged just one year, died of convulsions, sadly for the family.

The Sands Directory for 1883, lists John Morrison as a Builder, living in Burwood, Sydney, NSW. By this time two more children, George (1881) and Minnie (1883) had been born to the growing family.

John Morrison's talent as a builder was quickly recognised in Sydney, when in 1883, he won the tender for the contract to build an addition to St Andrew's Cathedral in George Street Sydney. This addition became known as Chapter House and stands today as a testimony to the dedication of my 2 times great grandfather to his profession as a master builder.

Tenders in the Sydney Morning Herald in 1884 which advertised for the delivery of 120,000 bricks and 100 tons of sand, as well as 900 perch of stone to the George Street site, demonstrate the size and importance of this construction which John Morrison, Building Contractor, was responsible for, under the direction of well known Sydney Architects Blacket Bros.

Chapter House stands in the foreground of St Andrew's Cathedral

The years 1884 to 1889 were busy ones for John Morrison, Building Contractor. Advertisements in the Sydney Morning Herald show that he undertook many building projects including large villas and homes designed by prominent architects, in the Sydney suburbs of Manly, Woolich and Strathfield. Three more children were born to John and Hannah during this period, Florence (my great grandmother) (1885) and twins, John and Jessie (1887). Whilst Hannah was busy caring for a growing family, John's reputation as a fine building contractor was also growing and he built a number of fine churches in the Gothic tradition, designed by well known architects. These included the Presbyterian Church at Burwood and a large and beautiful stone Presbyterian Church, St Enochs at Newtown, designed by Blacket Bros Architects who were the sons of the well known colonial architect, Edmund Blacket. St Enoch's Church housed one of the two largest pipe organs in Australia. Unfortunately, in the 1960's with the uniting of the Presbyterian, Methodist and Congregational churches, St Enochs Church was demolished to make way for a housing estate. Few photographs of this very large church survive, however, the pipes from the organ have found their way into my local Anglican church of St John's in Beecroft, a reminder for me of the wealth of my 2 times great grandfather's toil as a builder of fine stone churches. Municipal buildings such as the Council Chambers at Strathfield were amongst other fine examples of John Morrison's pride in his work as a builder, and his significant contribution to the built heritage of the city of Sydney along with Chapter House, St Andrew's Cathedral.

St Enochs Church

In 1887, John Morrison owned a large parcel of land in Morwick Street, Burwood. Between the years 1889 and 1890, he opened a large Railway and Tram Carriage Works on this land situated close to Strathfield Station. The Sydney Morning Herald, Saturday, April, 19, 1890, revealed that 'the railway Commissioners yesterday took delivery of the second chain of railway carriages built by Mr John Morrison of Starthfield'.

John Morrison, builder, had responded to the exciting expansion of the railways in Australia and turned his hand to the construction of rail carriages as well as trams. The NSW State rail Museum situated at Thirlmere in NSW, has in its collection some working carriages built by my great great grandfather, John Morrison. Between 1889 and 1993 John Morrison was one of the six largest providers of rolling stock for the Australian Government. My great great grandfather had clearly become a very wealthy and prominent man through his hard work and effort in building up several successful businesses in Australia.

John Morrison's wealth was more than monetary with six of his eight daughters training as nurses and his remaining son, John following him into the rail carriage business. Wealth of the prosperous kind, was not to last, however, in 1894, due to economic depression, the NSW Government was forced to cancelled a large order of 180 rail carriages which were already under construction. John Morrison was forced to sell his home, his belongings and close his business. Adverisements for the auction of the Morrison family's possessions are evidence of the prosperity that John had worked for, ' exeedingly handsome modern, fine and substantial furniture and household effects, Dining, Drawing, breakfast and Bedroom Suites... Seven grand carpets, all bordered...Magnificent Overmantel and Mirrors, really splendid water colours by Huddlestone, Fletcher watson and other artists of great ability... two pianofortes..'

With whatever money was left, John purchased land in Cobar, NSW and headed north to the South Eastern Queensland town of Ipswich where he was employed as Railway Works Foreman in the Ipswich Carriage Workshop. John Morrison and his son, also employed by the SE Queensland Railways, remained in this position from 1900 for the next ten years, well respected for his expertise in the rail carriage industry.

In 1920 at the age of 73, John and Hannah Morrison moved to the Queensland town of Cooroy,where their eldest daughter, Martha was Matron of St Margaret's Private Hospital. It is believed that John helped his daughter to purchase the hospital. Daughters Elizabeth and Inez also nursed at this hospital. (inland from Noosa). John became a shareholder in the Cooroy Butter Factory and continued to work in Cooroy until his death in 1927.

Cooroy Butter Factory

The Morrison sisters on the verandah of the Hospital owned by thre Morrison family

John and Hannah Morrison are on the official register of Pioneers of Cooroy.

John Morrison has left a legacy of his toil. Though a wealthy man in the mid 1890's, he died leaving little of monetary value. John Morrison, however, left a wealth of evidence of his working life as a builder and as a carriage maker. His buildings stand proudly, displaying his craftmanship throughout Sydney and a number of his rail carriages have been restored and are used regularly by the State Rail Museum at Thirlmere. I myself, have stood inside Chapter house in George Street Sydney, and sat proudly in a rail carriage built by John Morrison and marvelled at the wealth of Australian heritage and history in the products of my great great grandfather's labour- the wealth of his toil.

Genealogists for Family Project

2011-12-19T15:32:00.000-08:00

Kiva - Loans that Change Lives

You don't Need to be a Genealogist to Join - you Just Need to Care!

Kiva.org

http://www.kiva.org/team/genealogists

My last blog post was about a small trinket box which my grandmother gave me many years ago. In other posts I have narrated stories telling of my adventures in discovering Swiss, Irish and Scottish ancestors. I have even written anecdotes about a great uncle who was suspected of spying in WW11. This post is different. As genealogists, part or full time, we focus a lot on the past. We do so, importantly, in order to preserve the past for the future.

Sometimes we just need to focus on the present... and right now, there are many people who do not have lives so fortunate that they can even enjoy the luxury of researching ancestors, nor do they have a certain future. For some, it is a daily struggle just to survive, to educate children, to start a business or just to feed and care for livestock.

Kiva is an organisation which allows us to make loans of $25, NOT DONATIONS, to people less fortunate than ourselves. There is an element of self esteem involved, which makes it important for people to be able to accept a loan and to repay it. There is undoubtedly a sense of fulfillment in helping others to make a better present and future for themselves and for their families.

At this time of year, especially, as you decorate your Christmas tree and prepare to enjoy the festive season with your family, or participate in whatever other traditions or festivities that are a part of your family life, please think about joining the Genealogists For Families Project and Kiva in caring about the future of other families.

http://www.kiva.org/team/genealogists

Wishing you a Happy and Holy Christmas....

A Blog, a Trinket Box and a Mystery Solved!

2011-12-18T19:36:00.000-08:00

Little Boxes, little boxes.....

Mauchline Ware Box with transfers of Burns Monument

I wrote a blog recently about a small box which had belonged to my Irish grandmother, which she had given to me many years ago. I knew nothing about the origins of the box or its age, and I hoped that through my blog, I might discover some information. Blogging has connected me with interesting people all around the world, many of with whom I have exchanged information about family history matters. I decided to see whether my blog might connect me with someone who could help me solve the mystery of my little box. I entitled my story, "Family Treasures - where did they come from?"

I was tremendously excited to receive a comment on the blog, almost immediately. Ursula Martin, who is a genealogist and a blogger,in the UK, recognised my box and kindly left a comment on the blog giving me a link to the following site http://projects.beyondtext.ac.uk/project_gallery.php?i=47&t=i

My Small Box

Ursula kindly wrote " I found a similar box with 'Burns Monument' on it. Could be the same maker?"
As soon as I clicked on the link I saw the box pictured at the top of this page and knew at once that it was very similar to mine, except for the picture. My box has a picture of 'Burns Cottage' on the lid. Although the photograph I have taken does not show it, my box is exactly the same colour as the one pictured on the Projects Beyond text website.

Beyond Text is a ' ..program to support a multi-disciplinary community of scholars and practitioners drawn from Higher Education, museums, galleries, libraries and archives, business, policy. media, technology and the law to explore how human communication is articulated through sound, sight and associated sensory perceptions both the past and the present.'

Burns Cottage on another box similar to mine.

One of the projects within this program is the Robert Burns inventing Tradition and Securing Memory, 1796 - 1910 project. On the page of images which Ursula's link directed me to, was the picture (above top) of the Mauchaline Ware Box, 'made of wood which grew near to Alloway Kirk on the Banks of the Doon'

What was of particular significance for me was that the manufacturer of the Box was named as W & A Smith, Maucheline, Late 18th to early 19th century. I now had a starting place to begin researching my box.

Further investigation into Mauchline Ware, confirmed that Mauchline, pronounced Moch'lin was souvenir ware made by the Smith family of Mauchline, Ayrshire (now Strathclyde). Mauchline Ware was very popular in the Victorian Era with people who travelled abroad. Souvenirs, in particular, boxes, were decorated with well known scenes of Scottish landmarks. Many towns, villages, churches and landscapes were preserved in photographic images which were transferred onto different forms of Mauchline Ware, including a range of items, from snuff boxes and tea caddies to trinket boxes. The exact date of the first use of transfers is unknown however, it appears that they were used to adorn mauchline Ware from 1850 until 1933. The transfers were applied before a final appilcation of copal varnish was applied by the craftsmen making the souvenirs.

The bottom of a Mauchline Box identical to the bottom of my Box.

A View of Burns Cottage Similar to the transfer on my Box

By far the most popular scenes to be transferred onto Mauchline Ware products were 'Burnsian' scenes such as those on the boxes above.

So popular is Mauchline Ware that there is a Mauchline Collectors Club which has a searchable website. http://www.mauchlineware.com

A photograph of the Mauchline Factory, Mauchline, Ayrshire, in the 1800's. (photo found discovered in 2002).

Having established that my little trinket box was quite likely an example of Mauchline Ware, I became curious to know something about the brothers responsible for manufacturing the popular souvenir ware.

Somewhere around 1852, brothers, William (1795-1847) and Andrew (1795-1869) Smith, established a factory to manufacture Snuff Boxes in their home town of Mauchline, Ayrshire in Scotland. The brothers were the sons of a Mauchline mason named William Smith and his wife Jean Merry. Prior to thier venture into thier own Box works, William and Andrew Smith followed their father into his trade and in the 1820's were running a Hone Stone factory at Milton Mill on the northern bank of the River Ayr.

Their venture into snuff boxes quickly grew into a successful Victorian industry which produced wooden souvenirs adorned with transferred engravings of scenes and buildings mainly representative of the Mauchline area. In the late 1850's the railway expansion in Britain created a boom in tourism. Wooden Souvenir boxes became extremely popular keepsake of one's travels. This also coincided with the growing popularity of Robert Burns and Sir Walter Scott and the Smith brothers capitalised on both, manufacturing wooden souvenir boxes bearing views of scenery and places, the 'Burnsian' views becoming the most popular of the Mauchline range of products. W & A Smith produced at least 11 different views of the Burns Cottage, Alloway, which is pictures on the souvenir boxes above, including the one on my own box. Mauchline ware was not limited to boxes however. The brothers produced a vast range of wooden souvenirs and their Mauchline Ware production survived for three generations.

Image of Burns Cottage on my Trinket Box

Another view of Burns Cottage on a Mauchline Box

It remains for me to identify whether my trinket box is a genuine Mauchline Box. My grandmother gave me the box many years ago and I have always believed that it came to Australia either with her parents, Hugh and Sarah White who arrived in Australia from Northern Ireland in 1913, or with my grandfather and his parents, John and Elizabeth McDade who arrived in Brisbane, Queensland, Australia, in 1923. It appears very likely that my box is, indeed, a Mauchline Ware souvenir box. I have always been fond of the little box for sentimental reasons and now I have a new respect for it. It has been taken out of the drawer that it was kept in and has pride of place where I can admire it for its historical significance as well as sentiment.

Many thanks to Ursula Martin, for kindly taking the time to provide me with a web link which has taken me on a most interesting journey into the world of Mauchline Ware and most importantly has helped me to solve the mystery of my Little Box's origins.

A Family Treasure - Where did it Come from?

2011-12-12T01:00:00.001-08:00

The Small Box

I wonder how many small items we have around our homes, handed down from one generation to another, that we think of as treasures, but don't know the origins of?

When I was a teenager, my paternal grandmother gave me the small box pictured above to keep jewellery in. I have treasured the little wooden box for many years however, possibly, because I have had it for so long, I have given little thought to where it came from or how old it might be, until recently, when I took it out of a drawer and made time to look closely at the picture on the top of the lid. It is a picture of Burns Cottage.

The Picture on the Lid of the Box

Since my grandmother, Jemima Florence MacDade [m.s. White] arrived in Queensland, Australia from County Tyrone in Northern Ireland, as an 11 year old in 1913, I had always assumed that the box had come from Ireland. Recently, I realised that I knew nothing of the origins of the little jewellery box and decided to see if I could find out something about it. With my grandparents and parents passed away, there is no one who might tell me where this small box came from, not how old it might be. I am hoping that through this blog, someone might recognise my small box, or have one similar, and have information to share with me.

Did my small box arrive on board the Ship 'Ayrshire' in 1913 with Hugh and Sarah White and their five children, William, Violet, Jemima, John and Andrew? Or could it have belonged to my grandfather's family who were Scottish? My grandfather, Colin Hamilton McDade arrived in Australia in 1922, aged 19. He arrived with his family, parents John and Elizabeth McDade and seven siblings from Cumbernauld, Glasgow in Scotland. It is possible that the box may have travelled with the McDade family on board the 'Largs Bay'. After all, the Robert Burns Cottage, the place of his birth and his home until the age of seven years, is in Alloway, South Ayrshire, in Scotland, not far from Glasgow.

'Burns Cottage' - The Birth Place of Robert Burns

A Picture of Burns Cottage

Pen showing the size of the Box

The cottage was built was built in 1757 by William Burness, father of the well known poet, Robert Burns (a most famous of his poems being 'Auld Lang Syne').

My Scottish grandfather never lost his Scottish accent and was fond of Gaelic songs and rhymes, including those written by Robert Burns. This, of course does not solve the mystery of the origins of my little box. My great aunt Violet, sister to my grandmother, made annual trips back to Ireland and also visited friends in Scotland, so it is entirely possible that she brought the little jewellery box back for her sister from one of her journeys overseas.

My own 'little treasures' inside the Box.

Inside the little box, I have a collection of old pieces of jewellery and small trinkets which I have owned for many years. There is a locket with an unidentified photograph of an ancestor, a rose broach which belonged to a great aunt, earrings which I wore as a teenager, an eternity ring given to me many years ago by an old beau and other odds and ends. I have enjoyed looking through the small box and reminiscing, but I would dearly love to know something about the little box itself.

Back of the Box

If anyone has any information about my Small 'treasure'. I would appreciate your help in finding out where my little jewellery box originated.

Where there is a WILL... there is a Way to find your Your Ancestor!

2011-11-28T17:24:00.001-08:00

The Search For Margaret Helen Cunningham

Margaret Helen Cunningham

I have been kindly granted permission from the great nephew of Margaret Helen Cunningham, to tell the following story of how the discovery of a Will, provided previously unknown information about the youngest of three sisters who had been orphaned in Scotland at the ages of 6, 4 and 2 years. Margaret Cunningham had arrived in Australia in 1911 and her family knew little of her life in Australia other than where and when she had died. It is therefore, with gratitude to Margaret Helen Cunningham's family, that I write this story.

In September of this year I received an email from a friend in Queensland who is involved with the Kilcoy Historical Society. The Society had received an email from a man in South Australia who was looking for information about his great aunt, Margaret Cunningham, whom he knew to have died in the town of Kilcoy, in South Eastern Queensland. Knowing that I make frequent research trips to Queensland, my friend in the Kilcoy Historical Society, wondered if I would be interested in undertaking this research. She forwarded the original email on to me which read, in part,
'I am trying to trace information on my great aunt, Margaret Cunningham, who died in Kilcoy in 1931.'

The writer explained exactly what information that he was seeking, in his email,
'I am interested in finding out, when my aunt arrived in Kilcoy, what she did for a living, who she worked for, and where she lived.'

From details provided by Margaret Cunningham's great nephew, I knew that Margaret was born on the 19th of June, 1878 at 12 Gladstone Place, Edinburgh and that her parents were James Cunningham and Elizabeth Wilson McPherson. Margaret was believed to have worked as a Governess in Australia after her arrival in Queensland in December 1911 on board the 'S S Perthshire' which sailed from London on October 14, 1911. The 'Perthshire' arrived in Rockhampton on December, 12, then docked in Maryborough, on December 15, and finally berthed in Brisbane on December 16, 1911. The family's last known whereabouts of Margaret Helen Cunningham was in 1904, when she acted as a witness for her sister Jane Wilhelmima Cunningham at her wedding in Scotland.

Margaret Helen Cunningham's family had discovered that she had died on May 27, 1931 in the Kilcoy District Hospital, [Pictured at top] the informant being the hospital Matron, Margaret M. McDonnell. Margaret Cunningham was buried on May 28, 1931 in the Kilcoy Cemetery. The family had been unable fill in the missing years between her arrival in Australia and her death.

Kilcoy District Hospital in the 1930's

From Local Council records, my friend at the Kilcoy Historical Society, was able to confirm that Margaret Cunningham was buried in Kilcoy Cemetery, Section 12, Plot 9. Her grave was unmarked and her religion was given as Presbyterian.

Plan of Kilcoy Cemetery

Kilcoy Cemetery

Margaret Cunningham's Death Certificate

The death certificate for Margaret Cunningham, ( above) which was attached to the email, showed that she was 52 years old when she died of (a) Haematemesis (b) Gastric Ulcer and (c) Cardiac Syncope.

Margaret Cunningham arrived in Queensland, Australia from Scotland aged 33 years, presumably to start a new life and had died alone in Kilcoy. I wondered why she not kept her family informed of her whereabouts and resolved to find out, if I could, something about Margaret's life in Australia.

Searching the Australian Electoral Rolls on Ancestry.com, I found only one Margaret Cunningham who was umarried. In 1913, a person by this name, was working at the Hamilton Hotel, in Brisbane, as a Domestic. Although this did not fit with the family's story that Margaret had worked as a Governess, I had encountered enough family anecdotes to realise that they are often not correct. I needed, however, more information before I concluded that this was the right Margaret Helen Cunningham.

1913 Queensland Electoral Roll

On the 1919 Queensland Electoral Roll, I found once again, only one unmarried Margaret Cunningham. This Margaret, was working as a waitress in Boundary Street, off Hope Street in Brisbane. Still unsure if I had found the correct Margaret Cunningham and unable to find any other record relating to a person of this name, I conducted an Archive Search on the Queensland State Archive Website. I found a number of items under the name Margaret Cunningham. By eliminating any records outside of the dates within which I was searching, I narrowed the items down to one possible record. That record was a Will File held by the Archives, for a Margaret Cunningham, Series Number 6047, Item ID 907005. The start date was 27/5/1931 and the end date was 31/12/1933. I felt excitement mounting as I realised that the start date for this file matched the date of death for the Margaret Cunningham I was looking for.

As I was travelling to Brisbane the following week, I decided to go to the Queensland State Archives in person, to request to view Margaret Cunningham's Will File.

It never ceases to thrill me when old record books or documents wrapped in brown paper, bound with white tape, are brought to my numbered table at the Archives, for my inspection. It was no different with the Will File for Margaret Cunningham. I carefully untied the package, and lifted the documents out one by one with anticipation, until I found the File entitled Margaret Cunningham.

The File was over 50 pages thick and given that it was over 80 years old, had the distinctly musty odour that one associates with archived documents. I quickly determined that this file was most certainly the Will made by same Margaret Helen Cunningham who was born in Scotland in 1878, and about whom information was being sought.

The Will was dated 26/5/1931, the day prior to Margaret's death and was witnessed by the Medical Practitioner, Dr. David Miller, whose name was also on Margaret Cunningham's Death Certificate as the attending Medical doctor, as well as a Mrs Jessie Timperley, License Victualler, Woodford. Margaret's address was given as the Yatesville Hotel, Woodford and her occupation, as a Cook.

Will of Margaret Cunningham

A typed letter in the Wiil File, from the Court House in Kilcoy to the Public Curator in Brisbane, explained the sad circumstances in which Margaret Cunningham wrote her will. The writer of the letter (signature illegible) explained that
'The Doctor of the Hospital [Kilcoy] called at this office and informed me that he thought Margaret Cunningham would die within a day or two and requested me to bring up a Will form to have completed.'

The letter also confirmed that 'the deceased up until the time of her admission to the Hospital was employed as a Cook at the Yatesville Hotel, Woodford,'

A note, hand written, on the bottom of the page declared that 'the deceased informed me she has no relations or friends in Australia.'

A hand written declaration made by Mrs Jessie Timperley and dated September, 1931, verified that Margaret Cunningham, 'late of Woodford, aforesaid Cook, was in my employ prior to her admission to the Kilcoy Hospital.'

Jessie Timperley's declaration, in regard to moneys owed to, and by, Margaret Cunningham for the purpose of settlement of her estate, confirmed where Margaret had worked, her occupation and that her employer had been Mrs Timperley.

Declaration made by Mrs Jessie Timperley

I ordered a photocopy of the Will File of Margaret Cunningham and organised for it to be posted to my address in Sydney. I emailed the great nephew of Margaret Cunningham to tell him that I had found a file containing his great aunt's Will, and that most of the information he had been seeking was contained within the file. Not long afterwards, I received an email in reply, which made the find so much more meaningful. I realised just how important it was to this family to find information about Margaret Cunningham as I read the words,
' Margaret was my great aunt, being one of three girls, my grandmother being the eldest. They were orphaned when my grandmother was 6 years old and were subsequently taken in by different members of the family, so it has been quite a challenge tracking them down when they were younger.'

Margaret Helen Cunningham had left her estate divided between three people, a Miss Margaret Williams and a Mr William Williams who both lived at No. 1 Colnbrook Street, St Georges Road, London, and a Mr James Barrie whose address was 'The Lodge', Bailleston, Stirlingshire, Scotland. The file contained bank records of Margaret Cunningham and correspondence to and from the beneficiaries of the will and the Public Curator in Brisbane, Queensland, Australia.

The Yatesville Hotel, Woodford, Queensland

The informaion contained in the Will File, answered three of Margaret Cunnuingham's great nephew's inquiries - where his great aunt had lived, what her occupation had been and who had employed her, at least prior to her death. Exactly when Margaret Cunninhgam arrived in in the town of Woodford, near Kilcoy is still a mystery. I strongly suspect that the Margaret Cunningham I had found on the 1913 and 1919 Electoral Rolls in Brisbane, the Capital City of Queensland, working first as a Domestic at the Hamilton Hotel and then as a waitress in Boundary Street, Spring Hill, was indeed Margaret Helen Cunningham. That her Bank Passbook was issued in Brisbane, was further evidence indication that she had begun her life in Australia in the capital city. Somewhere between 1919 and 1931, it would appear that Margaret began working as a Cook at the Yatesville Hotel in Woodford. This lovely old Hotel (pictured above) was demolished in the 1960's, a decade, when sadly, so much of our built heritage was lost.

While waiting for the Will File to arrive, out of curiosity, I decided to find out what I could about Margaret Helen Cunningham's background in Scotland. On the Scotland's People website I found the marriage of Margaret's sister, Jane Wilhelmina Cunningham to James Barrie. The marriage took place on June 3, 1904 at Stanley Place, Blantyre ( Jane's usual place of residence) in the County of Lanarkshire, Scotland, according to the Banns of the established Church of Scotland, Margaret Cunningham was recorded as a witness at her sister's marriage.

Jane Wilhelmina Cunningham Marriage Certificate

James Barrie, Jane's husband, had the same name as one of the beneficiaries of Margaret Cunningham's modest estate. Margaret had left equal shares of money to her niece, Margaret Williams, Mr William Williams and James Barrie. No mention was made of her sisters, so it was possible that they had both died before Margaret. A quick search for the death of Jane Barrie (Cunningham) showed that she had died on May 29, 1913, barely nine years after her marriage to James Barrie. Jane died of a 'Duodenal Ulcer, Dilated Stomach and Cardiac Failure'. Jane Barrie [Cunningham] had passed away from a similar cause of death as her sister Margaret but Jane, tragically died, aged only 34 years. Jane's birth year from her marriage and death certificate appeared to be 1879, making her younger than Margaret, which conflicted with the information I had been given.

Jane Barrie Death Certificate

A search for the birth of the three Cunningham sisters revealed that in fact, Margaret Helen Cunningham was the youngest of the three sisters, as I had been informed by her great nephew. Perhaps Jane had not wished her husband to know that she was three years older than him! Jane's birth certificate showed her birth date as May 10, 1876, and place of birth as 12 Gladstone Place, Edinburgh. Her parents were James Cunningham, a Grocer, Spirit Merchant, and Elizabeth Wilson McPherson.

James Cunningham and Elizabeth Wilson McPherson, maternal grandparents of Margaret Helen Cunningham, were married on January 1, 1874, at the bride's home address, 6 Salisbury Street, Edinburgh, after Banns according to the Church of Scotland. Parents were given as Thomas and Elizabeth Cunningham (m.s. Robertson) and Lachlan and Elizabeth McPherson (m.s. Cameron).

I found birth records for the three daughters of James and Elizabeth Cunningham.

Elizabeth Cameron Robertson Cunningham born December 27, 1874, 12 Gladstone Place, Edinburgh
Jane Wilhelmina Cunningham born May, 10, 1876 at the same address.
Margaret Helen Cunningham born June, 19, 1878 at the same address.

Margaret Helen Cunningham Birth Certificate

On June 19, 1880, aged 54 years, James Cunningham, father of the three sisters, passed away at their home at 12 Gladstone Place, Edinburgh. He died of 'Inflamation attributed to Erysipela'. The three girls lost their father to a streptococcus infection which causes severe skin lesions and results in septic shock. Elizabeth was aged 6, Jane, 4 and Margaret Helen only 2 years. Tragically for the young sisters, four years later they also lost their mother when she died of 'Bilious Vomiting and Diarrhea' on May 8, 1884.

James Cunningham Death Certificate

Elizabeth Cunningham (McPherson) Death Certificate

Elizabeth, Jane and Margaret Cunningham were orphaned at the ages of 10, 8 and 4 years and it would seem that with no husband to support her and her three young daughters, Elizabeth Cunningham was unable to keep her daughters in her care. 'They were taken in by other members of family since in the 1881 Census they were not living with her.

The 1881 Scottish Census shows Margaret H Cunningham living at 6 High Street Edinburgh, with James and Joan C Wood and their children, Elizabeth Wood 10, Robert W Wood 8, Lachlan McPherson Wood 6, Janet W Wood 3 and Jemima Wood 8 days old. Being a family historian, I find, is very much akin to being a detective, following clues to attain a result. Since Lachlan McPherson was the name of Margaret Helen Cunningham's maternal grandfather, it seemed logical that Lachlan McPherson Wood was named after him and that Joan C Wood would very likely be Elizabeth's sister. A search on the Scotlands People website showed that Joan Cameron McPherson who married James Wood on June 10, 1870 was, indeed, Elizabeth Wilson Cunningham's (McPherson) sister, her parents also being Lachlan McPherson and Elizabeth Cameron. Margaret Helen Cunningham had been taken in by her maternal aunt and uncle but where were her older sisters, Elizabeth and Jane?

Margaret Cunningham 1881 Census

I found Margaret's sisters in the 1881 census, living at 153 Stonefield (St) Blantyre, in the County of Lanarkshire, Glasgow. They were living with James and Janet Wilson and their children Joseph 10, Elizabeth 8, William 6, Lachlan 3 and Mary aged 2 years. The name Lachlan was perhaps a clue once again, to search for a marriage of a Janet McPherson to a James Wilson to see if Janet was another sister to Elizabeth. I discovered this very marriage, which took place on June 30, 1870 and Janet's parents' names showed that she was indeed, Elizabeth's sister.

Margaret Helen Cunningham's sisters, Elizabeth and Jane had been sent to live with another maternal aunt in different city in Scotland. The Cunningham children were separated after their father died in 1880, Margaret Helen remaining in Edinburgh with one of her mother's sisters and Elizabeth and Jane Cunningham being sent to Glasgow to live with an older sister of their mother.

I did not set out to research the ancestry of Margaret Helen Cunningham, although curiosity inevitably took me on an interesting journey into her past. The information that the family of Margaret Cunningham was seeking, was how Margaret came to pass away in the town of Kilcoy in Queensland, Australia, her place of abode, her occupation and employer's name. The Will, discovered at the Queensland State Archives, and other documents in the File accompanying the Will, provided all of this information. Unfortunately the File did not enlighten us as to the date of Margaret's arrival in the town of Woodford. As for Margaret Cunningham's life in this town, we can only understand something of it by researching the town of Woodford itself.

Margaret Cunningham's work as a Cook in one of Woodford's three hotels ( one a combined shop and hotel), in the late 1920's to 1931 would have been a busy one. Woodford became a prosperous town during that period with the opening of the Stanley River Co-Operative Butter Factory there. The main industries in the area were dairying and timber, with two saw mills operating in Woodford. The railway ran to Woodford and the Woodford Agricultural, Industrial and Pastoral Show had been held in the town since 1912. Margaret would have cooked meals for workers from the district as well as holiday makers such as Miss Edna Comley who according to the Courier Mail, April 29, 1931, spent her holiday staying at the Yatesville Hotel. [ http://www.trove.nla.gov.au/ ]

Once I became involved in the search for Margaret Helen Cunningham's life in Queensland, I couldn't help but become fascinated with Margaret Cunningham herself and felt compelled to find out more about her. I hope that Margaret's family, by reading the documents contained in the Will File, might find some closure to the mystery which surrounded her 'disappearance' during the almost 20 years that she spent living in Queensland. I thank them for allowing me to write this story.

The 'S S Perthshire' unloading Cargo in Townsville 1901
[Courtesy Trove]

Post Script: The photograph of Margaret Helen Cunningham was added to this blog after her great nephew read the blog and sent me the photograph. I am thrilled to now be able to see what she looked like.

2011-11-24T00:26:00.001-08:00

A Ration Book found in a Collector's Emporium and the Search for Cecil Ralph Miller.

On a recent trip overseas, my daughter, Siobhan, kindly visited the birthplaces of my Swiss ancestors, Häberlings and Rysers, who I have traced back to the 1400's in Ottenbach, Zurich and in Bern. After seeing the places where her ancestors had lived and immediately being bitten by the genealogy 'bug', my 25 year old daughter continued on, in search of addresses of other ancestors, in other places in Europe and especially in London where she spent a month staying with family and friends.

Knowing that I enjoy collecting old photographs, books and journals, Siobhan searched for a suitable gift of this kind, to bring home for me. In Church Street, Marylebone, she chanced upon Alfies Antique Hall, where she found the perfect present for me at Tin Tin Collectables.

In the collectables store, while rummaging through a box of miscellaneous papers, a yellowed Ministry of Food Ration Book dated 1953-1954 and bearing the name Miller, (Cecil Ralph), caught my daughter's eye. Delving deeper into the box, Siobhan discovered six other documents relating to Cecil Ralph Miller.. The owner of Tin Tin Collectables was most interested in what the documents were and together he and Siobhan unfolded the old pieces of paper which had once belonged to Cecil Ralph Miller. My daughter knew at once that I would consider this 'find' a treasure trove and made the purchase, although the store owner was somewhat intrigued as to why this young woman was interested in a Ration Book and other papers related to a man she had never heard of.. As my daughter chatted to the proprietor of Tin Tin Collectables, she explained that her mother enjoys collecting photographs and memorabilia and re-uniting them with their rightful owners. She was certain that I would be enthusiastic to research the life of Cecil Ralph Miller and felt sure that I would want to try to trace descendants of this man who's documents had ended up for sale in the Marylebone Antique Centre. The store owner gave my daughter a card with his name on it and extracted a promise from her that she would let him know whatever I found out about Cecil Ralph Miller.

The Ration Book which led my daughter to find other documents hidden in a box.

Inside Cecil Ralph Miller's Ration Book

I was thrilled with my gift and as soon as my daughter returned to Australia with the little parcel of interesting documents which had belonged to Cecil Ralph Miller, I set to work to locate all that I could about him. After a quick search for Cecil Ralph Miller born in 1917 (date of birth on his Identity Card) on Ancestry.com and finding quite a number of Cecil Millers born in and around that year ( and finding no family tree bearing the name Cecil Ralph Miller), I decided to begin my search with the actual documents themselves as evidence of Cecil's life. There is something special and exciting about using original documents as a source of evidence although inevitably I resorted to the Internet for additional information.

One of the folded papers with the Ration Book was a Military Identity Card stamped with the date 17 February, 1942. This card, bearing a photograph of Cecil Miller showed that he had been a Captain Adjutant with the 2/7th Royal Warwickshire Regiment in 1942. Cecil's place of birth was given as Hove and date of birth as 1917. Here was a wealth of information already, with which to begin my search. Looking at the charming photograph of the handsome young man in his Army uniform, made me more determined to find out who Cecil Ralph Miller was and whether he had any descendants who might like to have these special mementos of his life.

Curious to know more about Cecil Ralph Miller's military career, I googled 'Cecil Ralph Miller Royal Warwickshire Regiment' and immediately was greeted with a result, pictured below, which included another photograph of Cecil.

On the above website, http://www.unithistories.com/officers/1AirbDiv.officersM.htm I discovered an outline of Cecil's army career, beginning with his role as 2nd Lt. as a Cadet with the Harrow School Junior Division Training Corps in 1936. Cecil would have been aged 17 at this time. Harrow School was situated in Middlesex, London. On the 27th of May, 1939, Cecil Miller was commissioned to the Royal Warwickshire Regiment - Territorial Army (Battalion). He was mobilized on the 24th of August in the same year and transferred to the Parachute Regiment in the Army Air Corps on 27th of January, 1943. According to this website dedicated to the army careers of Airborn Officers, in 1944, Cecil was a general Staff Officer, Third grade (GSO3) (Air) with the First Parachute Brigade (Arnhem). Cecil Miller attained the rank of Captain Territorial Army, on the 1.5.1947 and A/Major on 23/4/ 1949. The timeline of Cecil Ralph Miller's military career continued until 1955 when he appears as an Officer with the Territorial Army Reserve.

Another document belonging to Cecil Ralph Miller was an Army Form, numbered E.524, and entitled Territorial Badge, which shows Cecil to have been a Captain ( Badge number 153247) with the 18th Bn.(Warrick) The Parachute Regiment. Through a Google search I learned that the 18th Battalion was an Airborne Infantry Battalion of the Parachute Regiment which was raised by the British Army during World War 11.

Two other cards which accompanied the Ration Book gave addresses for Cecil. A National Registration Card gave Cecil's address as Prickets Hatch, Nutley, Uckfield, and his National Health and Pensions Assurance Member Record Card (1942-1947) stated that Mr. C.R. Miller lived at Shrewsbury Villa, Rugby Rd. Newbold on Avon. Rugby.

A google search revealed Prickets Hatch, Nutley, Uckfield to be in East Sussex, and Prickets Hatch is shown on the 1875 Ordinance map below. I discovered in addition to the map, a Manorial record of ownership by deed of Prickets Hatch, dating from 1561 to the 1800's showing it to be originally farming land. Curious to know more about Prickets Hatch during the war years, when Cecil may have lived there, I googled 'Prickets Hatch, Nutley,1939'. This search led me to a fascinating story called 'Nutley at War 1939-1945' written by Mollie Smith. ( http://maresfieldparish.org.uk/pdf/NUTLEY%20AT%20WAR.pdf ) This a wonderfully descriptive account of Nutley during the war and amongst the illustrations, I immediately recognised the picture of a Ration Card and other documents similar to those found with Cecil Ralph Miller's Ration Card. The story outlines in detail the significant part that the people of Nutley played in WW11, which included the Women's Land Army and the Evacuees who spent the war years in Nutley. Mollie Smith's story gave a moving and detailed account of the wartime experiences of the families of this district. Most significantly, in Mollie Smith's story, the surname Miller was mentioned in the form of a Colonel G.R. Miller. I felt at once that I was on the right trail in my search for Cecil Miller.

Prickets Hatch is located near the bottom centre of the above map.

A Google search for Shrewsbury Villa, Newbold Rd, Avon, surprised me by showing me the actual home that was Cecil's address in the 1940's, according to his National Health and Pensions Assurance Member Card (the house pictured below).

Shrewsbury Villa, Newbold Rd, Avon, Rugby.

Cecil Ralph Miller's Health and Pension Card

Cecil Miller's National Registration Card bearing an address

The most exciting find inside the Ration book which had belonged to Cecil Miller was the piece of faded blue paper that I unfolded last. To my surprise, I found that I had the cremation certificate for a man named George Ralph Miller who died on the 13th of September, 1948, at Prickets Hatch, Nutley, aged 74 years. The certificate had been issued by The Downs Crematorium, Brighton. The age of George Miller at his death placed his birth at approximately 1874. I wondered if George Ralph Miller could be Cecil's father? In Mollie Smith's story 'Nutley at War 1939-1945' a Colonel G.R. Miller had been mentioned. Could this be George Ralph Miller? My search was becoming increasingly more exciting as names and places matched the documents found by my daughter in the Marylebone Antique Centre, in Tin Tin Collectables.

The Cremation Certificate of George Ralph Miller

A search on Ancestry.com showed the death registration in 1948 of a George Ralph Miller, born about 1874, his death registered at Uckfield, Sussex (Vol 5h, page 363). As Uckfield was the address given for Cecil Ralph Miller on his National Registration card, I was sure that George and Cecil were somehow related. I was ready to find Cecil Ralph Miller's ancestry.

As the Birth registrations for England on Ancestry.com are from 1837 to 1915, I was unable to search for the 1917 birth of Cecil Ralph Miller. Familysearch.com yielded no results for a search for Cecil or George Miller. When I searched Ancestry.com for a marriage for George Ralph Miller I found three marriages registered in 1916, one in Lancashire, another in county Durham and the third marriage registered in Middlesex. Since Cecil attended Harrow School in Middlesex, the most likely marriage for his parents was a marriage registered on the 15 February 1916 in Kensington and Chelsea.

George Ralph Miller had married Violet Mary Teschemaker, daughter of William Henry Teschemaker. The name of George Ralph Miller's father was given as Henry Miller. I decided to Google George Ralph Miller and Violet Mary Teschemaker to see what, if anything I could find out about this couple. To my surprise, the first hit was Peerage.com where I discovered George Ralph Miller (entry #512973) with wife Violet Mary Teschemaker and children Cecil Ralph Miller born 13th November, 1917 and Anthony John Miller born 21st May, 1920. This Cecil Ralph Miller was a decorated Major in the Territorial Army. There was little doubt that I had found my Cecil Ralph Miller and most interestingly, it appeared that he descended from peerage. Using my subscription to the Burke's Peerage and Gentry website, I conducted a search for the Lineage of George Ralph Miller and verified that Cecil Ralph Miller descended from the Millers of Chichester, the first Baronetcy being created 29 October 1705, in the person of Sir Thomas Miller.

Miller Crest

MILLER OF CHICHESTER LINEAGE

Mark Miller, Alderman

Sir Thomas Miller, 1st Baronet (Title [UK Life Peerage] created 1705)
Sir John Miller, 2nd Baronet
Sir Thomas Miller, 3rd Baronet
Sir John Miller, 4th Baronet
Sir Thomas Miller, 5th Baronet
Sir Rev Thomas Combe Miller 6th Baronet (The Title continued through the eldest sons of the Miller of Chichester family and currently resides in New Zealand. )

John Henry Miller, born 9 September, 1830, married Jessie Orbell, had son,

George Ralph Miller born 23 December, 1874, married Violet Mary Teschemaker, had son

Cecil Ralph Miller, born 13 November, 1917.

Cecil's father, George Ralph Miller was born 23 December, 1874, the son of Henry John Miller and Jessie Orbell. He was a Lieutenant-Colonel RA, Boer-1901 and WW1. He was decorated with the Companion, Distinguished Service Order (DSO) in 1919.

According to Peerage.com, Cecil Ralph Miller married Marie Sumner (of Edinburgh), daughter of Major Stephen Sumner in 1981.

It would appear that Cecil Miller married late in life and had no issue. I have traced Miller relatives in Australia and New Zealand and will hopefully re-unite them with the documents which belonged to Cecil Ralph Miller. Perhaps someone related to Cecil will read this blog and contact me. I would love to see Cecil Ralph Miller's personal and military papers go to a member of the Miller family.

As a fitting end to my journey in the search for Cecil, which began with an accidental find in an Antique Hall in Marylebone, London, I googled Cecil one last time. I found the obituary shown below.

MILLER, Cecil, Ralph, (Edinburgh) Died peacefully, on February 19, 2011, aged 93 years, devoted husband of the late Marie and much loved uncle, step- father and step- grandfather........

Obituary of Cecil Ralph Miller

I would like to thank my daughter, Siobhan, for her thoughtful gift, which inspired me to search for Cecil Ralph Miller. The research was well rewarded and the journey most interesting. Cecil Ralph Miller died in February this year in Scotland. My daughter found his personal documents in October, in an Antique Hall in Marylebone, London and brought them to Sydney, Australia. The Miller family member who holds the current Baronetcy, from which Cecil Ralph Miller descends, resides in New Zealand. Cecil Ralph Miller's documents have travelled a great distance but perhaps now, they are on their way home.

What's in a Name? Avoiding a Future Brick Wall.

2011-10-12T01:23:00.000-07:00

What's in a Name? Avoiding a Brick Wall for Future Family Historians.

An uncommon name can be a godsend for the family historian. It matters not whether it is an uncommon Surname or Christian name. An unusual name will always be easier to find than a common name. MALIORA Taylor will be located with far less effort in baptism and census records than will MARY Taylor. Even when a tired enumerator misspelt my ancestor Maliora Taylor as Meloria, she was quite easily found with a name variant search. There may have been more than one Elizabeth LEWTHWAITE born in England in 1740, however, certainly not nearly as many as there were Elizabeth SMITHs born and baptised in the same year. Unfortunately for family historians, the fact is, that we cannot choose the names which we are researching. The names of our ancestors were chosen in the past, with oblivious regard to the joys or frustrations they would cause in future genealogical searches.

I quickly lost the trail of my great aunt, Margaret Smith, her husband, Andrew and daughters Margaret, Elizabeth and Mary Smith after they emigrated to America from Scotland in 1923. Smith is a surname which most genealogists greet with a groan. I have often found myself wondering how much easier it would be for me to to find this family had Andrew Smith not had his Lithuanian name of Antonas Ustila anglicised when he arrived in Scotland in the 1890's with his family as a refugee. How much simpler would my search be if Margaret had named her daughters Eilidh, Aiofe and Ciorstaidh rather than following the Scottish naming tradition of passing on the names of the maternal and paternal grandmothers as well as her own name to her three daughters. Common first names such as Mary, Elizabeth and Margaret along side a common surname such as Smith, lay the strong foundations for a solid brick wall.

I, myself, married a man with the fairly common surname of WHITE. My children will never stray far from the branches of the family tree, however, as I have endowed them all with unusual Gaelic christian names and (possibly burdened them with) four names each. One Gaelic name, one biblical, one a family name and one name that I just liked. So daughter Ciorstaidh Keziah Herminnie Maddison White * ( not the real name... but close!) is unlikely to be lost among the many Whites in future records. Before my daughters decide to add another generation to our family tree, I plan to impress upon them, (tactfully of course) the benefits of naming the children with even slightly uncommon names. I wouldn't dream of interfering.... but I do feel that Knight Sir Lancelot Rufus Marcus Ignatius *Brown would never create the footings for a genealogical brick wall ( then again.. imagine how many hits Sir Lancelot would get on Ancestry.com). And Pomegranate (well Gwyneth Paltrow has Apple!) Mairead Maliora Indianah *Jones will not likely disappear into oblivion in any census record.

Having grown up with both an unusual first name AND a reasonably uncommon Scottish surname, you might be tempted to think that I am a future family historian's dream. If you read my Sorting Saturday blog, however, on my GeneaThemeBlogs4u blog site ( http://www.geneathemeblogs4u.blogspot.com ) you will be aware that I recently realised my potential as a brick wall ticking time bomb! To quickly summarise my untidy genealogical circumstance..... When I was nine years old, my mother changed my First Name (but not officially). To further complicate my chances of ever being located by a future genealogist, my Surname was mis-spelled on my birth certificate (I blamed my father who also mis- named my sister, when on arriving at the Registry office he forgot the name she was to be given and substituted it with something 'similar'). (Needless to say he wasn't allowed anywhere near the Registry Office for the third daughter).

When recently applying for a new passport, (having lost mine), I found that I was unable to obtain one. The requirements for identification for a passport, are much stricter than when I applied for my last one. My problem was that I was Sharon-Lee Mcdade on my birth certificate (and before you pronounce my name Sharon - it was Shaaaaaaron, the reason for the change of name being that... it was always mispronounced) My surname should have been MacDade ( with an all important 'a' in the Mac and a capital D for Dade) but on my birth certificate, it was Mcdade. On my marriage certificate my name was Sharon-Lee aka Sharna-Lee MacDade, and on all other ID, I am Sharn or Sharna-Lee ( the name my mother gave to me at age nine). Faced with the prospect of becoming an unfortunate genealogist's worst nightmare somewhere in the future, and needing a passport, I decided to 'sort' my name out once and for all.

Having struggled to find my own ancestors who have disappeared into the mazes created by name changes and misspelling of names I could see the 'mess' that my name would create for anyone searching for me on the family tree. Changing my first name by deed poll and correcting my misspelled surname on my birth certificate seemed the logical step to take to avoid the inevitable fate of one day becoming a Brick Wall!

Recalling the three days I spent at the Registry of Births Deaths and Marriages only two months earlier where my name had caused much confusion (but where three days of 'sorting' finally resulted in my being handed a birth certificate) ( Sorting Saturday), I again travelled to Brisbane, the city of my birth to face the bureaucratic process. I felt a little sad to be losing the name on the birth certificate that I had so recently battled to acquire but with my form filled out, I sat in wait for my number to be called.

Everyone should spend a little time in their local Registry Office. It is a most interesting experience. A place of varied life stories and events. Apart from a wedding being conducted outside in the rain, there were quite a few young mothers, with newborn babies in tow, registering their brand new names. How times have changed. On most of the birth certificates I have collected on my genealogical journey, the father has been the informant, going back to birth registrations in the 1700's. Then again, perhaps more children have the correct name on their birth certificates now!

Because I am an avid observer of people and of life, I found the long wait to get closer to the counter anything but dull. I smiled knowingly as baby 'Bandit' received his new name. I was confident that young Bandit will never disappear in a labyrinth of Jacks, Harry's or Williams in the census records. (Although I secretly hope that his mother's choice of name doesn't in any way affect his choice of career in the future.) I listened in sympathy as a young woman explained that she had lost her birth certificate in the Queensland Floods earlier in the year. When she had received a replacement certificate, the Registry office had left a hyphen out of her name thus rendering her Mary Ann instead of Mary-Anne. I nodded in agreement as she explained that the hyphen IS important. Hadn't my own 5 times great grandmother, Mary-Ann Cupples been difficult to find because of a missing hyphen? I had learned that it is much more likely that an ancestor might use either part of their first name, eg Mary, or as my forebear did, Ann, if the hyphen exists. I could see her point perfectly well. It soon became evident, however, that this Mary-Ann didn't really care about the hyphen. (I resisted the urge to jump up and explain to her that it WOULD matter to a luckless family historian one day). As it turned out, Mary-Ann needed a passport and her passport application had been rejected because of the missing hyphen on her birth certificate. Her name had to be corrected on the certificate. My tangible sympathy increased tenfold. I was there for a similar reason.

I shook my head in compassion as similar stories about failed passport applications came to light. One lady with the maiden name of Schloss found that it was spelled Shloss on her birth certificate. When the same Mrs Maiden Surname Schloss announced that while she was at the registry office, she also wished to change her married name, by adding a hyphen and attaching it to her maiden name, I could only barely restrain myself from yelling, 'Stop!'.I knew only too well the brick wall that would surface generations later from this deed. My own maternal family disappeared into oblivion after my great grandfather added Reece to Hoyes. I spent many years on a long fruitless search for Welsh ancestors by the surname of Reece-Hoyes. (I did eventually find my HOYES ancestors happily living in Nottinghamshire but only after quite a number of family members had been afforded the honour of Welsh names for the Welsh ancestry we don't have.)

I handed my four forms of ID to the same young girl who had patiently spent three days searching for my birth certificate eight weeks earlier.
'Hello', she said cheerily, I remember you. 'You were the lady with the confusion about your names'.
'I'm here to fix that,' I replied confidently.
I handed her the form to change my Christian name by deed poll and explained that my Surname had also been misspelled on my birth certificate. I handed her my four required forms of ID. She looked them over and handed them straight back.
'I'm sorry,' said the girl ( I could tell she really was) but I can't accept your ID. Your licence and birth certificate are OK, but your Health Care card and Bank Statement are missing a hyphen!

'You must be joking', I spluttered. I have all the way flown from Sydney AGAIN.
'I'm really sorry,' said the girl again. 'I can't identify you without the hyphen.'
'But you just said you remembered me', I exclaimed.
I looked at the offending identification. My health care card had my name printed as Sharnalee and my bank statement as Sharna Lee.
'You will need to go to your bank and health care company and have them put the hyphen in your name', said the girl, apologetically. 'Then come back and I will be able to ID you.'

To be fair to the Qld Registry of Births Deaths and Marriages, they did eventually (the next day) agree to accept my ID and my name was changed officially, hyphen and all. It was discovered that my father did register my surname correctly after all, but that someone had transcribed it into the Index as 'Mc' instead of 'Mac', so that mistake was rectified at no cost to myself. In appreciation of my patience I was offered two copies of my new birth certificate. Well, I am sure one can never have too many birth certificates! On the back of my certificate, I was told, would be recorded the date of the registration of change of name. I felt that this was an important piece of information to have made available and am pleased to say that I am confident now that I have avoided becoming a brick wall.

As I was thanking the helpful young girl (who was probably pleased that I did NOT have to return) I overheard a young woman at the counter next to mine, registering her new baby boy as John White. A genealogist's worst nightmare, I was thinking. As the woman turned to stare at me I realised that I had voiced my opinion aloud. My husband's ancestors had all been named John or William White and had been impossible to find in County Down Northern Ireland, as had my own two times great grandfather William White in County Tyrone.
With a lovely smile, the young mother reassured me, 'Don't worry. I know what you mean but it's a family name. I do family history and I have given him my maiden surname as a middle name. He won't disappear on a census record.'
At that she turned back to the man behind the counter and said determinedly,' I have changed my mind. Reverse those names! He will be known by my my maiden name.'

The young mother smiled to me as though we shared a great secret as she walked past me. We both knew she had just avoided a future genealogical brick wall..... Of course young FARMER John White* may not see things that way for twenty or so years but one day he'll understand!

* These names have been changed to protect privacy of individuals.

How I Found My Swiss Ancestors - My First Journey into Family History.

2011-09-23T19:49:00.000-07:00

How I found My Swiss Ancestors

Pictured Right: My Swiss great great grandmother, seated in the middle with her children. My great grandmother, Lillie Herminnie is at the back right.

PREFACE: I know that my children are not as interested as I am in our family history. It is not difficult to see that they do not share my overly enthusiastic passion for people from the past. Although I may be able to attract their attention with stories of an unusual ancestor who was a WW2 spy, I find that usually as soon as I eagerly attempt to divulge my newest and most thrilling discovery, they all seem to have something which requires urgent attention elsewhere. And fair enough..after all.. they HAVE spent much of their lives being dragged through cemeteries, searching for graves and driving around back streets of small towns in search of old houses, reasonably uncomplaining. So, I was pleasantly surprised when Number three offspring, daughter, Siobhan, announced that, as part of her two month journey through Europe this year, she was planning to spend some time in Switzerland, the home of her maternal ancestors. I was even more excited when she informed me that she would visit the ancestral places where our Swiss forebears lived and take photographs for me.
Imagine my joy, then, on receiving an email announcing that she could 'feel the Swiss blood coursing through her veins.' I was so overwhelmed that I quite forgot to read on to the part which explained why she loved Switzerland. I had visions of at last having someone with whom to share my love of family history. We could sit up together late at night, over a cup of tea, discussing long gone relatives, their occupations, their...and then I read on. " Mum, No wonder you call me your 5 star daughter - you should see the number of Ferrari's and Maserati's here. Even the Police drive BMW's. THIS is truly my homeland!" OK, not quite a family history buff yet, but give her more time in Switzerland and I'm hopeful. I began then to think about my own first ever venture into family history many years ago.......

Growing up I always knew that I my great great grandmother was born in Switzerland. I had in my possession, a newspaper article with a photograph of five generations of mothers and daughters in our family, with my great great grandmother being the oldest and myself the youngest. With this photograph tucked away in a box, I had never though much about it, until one day some years ago, a comment made by a great aunt, aroused my curiosity about my ancestry.

I had always assumed that my 'Swiss great great grandparent's with the surname Nargar, had come to Australia together from Switzerland. Then my great aunt informed me that my great great grandfather was born, not in Switzerland, but in Prussia. This was hugely significant as it meant that the surname Nargar was not of Swiss, but rather, Prussian origins. A sudden need to know more about my heritage, launched me into my first ever search for my family background.

I had no idea where to begin. The only thing I knew about my great great grandmother was that she was known as 'Little Nana' , that she had lived in Maryborough in Queensland, and that her house in Maryborough was named 'Zurich'. I decided that reading the story attached to the Five Generations photograph from the Brisbane Courier Mail, in which I was a young baby, was the best place to start..

As I read the following words in the story below the article, 'Mrs Nargar was born in Switzerland, and came to Australia when she was aged eight.' , I realised that this was a vital piece of information about my great great grandmother that I could begin my journey with. In addition, the article was in recognition of a celebration held in Maryborough for her 88th birthday so I knew her year of birth. Armed with my 2 times great grandmother's age and one more wonderful clue - the age (and therefore the year) that she arrived in Australia, I naively set forth as an 'L' plate genealogist.

If you have ever been warned to beware the 'family anecdote', ( the family castle, royal blood, 'there's a title waiting for you somewhere'....) allow me to add another warning to that excellent advice. Also beware misleading journalism! I spent a great deal of time searching for an arrival in 1875 when it turned out that my great grandmother was actually four years old, and not eight, as reported, when she arrived in Australia.

The first step I took was to read a number of books from my local library, several written by Janet Reakes since I had no experience in researching family history at all. Then armed with the advice to begin with what I knew and work backwards I sent away for a birth certificate for my great grandmother, Lillie Herminnie Nargar, from the Queensland Archives.In those days, the Archives was the repository for Qld Births, Deaths and Marriages pre 1900. No online indexes then! The birth certificate of daughter Lillie, I hoped, would tell me the maiden name of her mother, my great great grandmother Nargar. The Qld Archive staff were extremely helpful as I had only a rough idea of the birth date of my great grandmother. My mother had died quite young and so I had no one to ask questions of, however, a search was undertaken on my behalf and a certificate located. After waiting three weeks for the snail mail to arrive I finally received the certificate, which told me that my great grandmother, Lillie Herminnie Nargar was born on the 1 October, 1888, in Maryborough, the daughter of John Nargar and Barbara Lena [Surname].... disappointment came quickly as I discovered that I could barely decipher the writing which should tell me the surname of my great great grandmother, Barbara. That, of course, was my introduction to one of the many hurdles that are commonplace in the world of genealogy.

After many attempts to read the maiden name of my 2 times great grandmother (and a crash course on deciphering old, faded ...and just 'plain messy' handwriting), I decided that the name was either Maberling or Haberling. Googling both names resulted in my discovering that the surname Haberling had its origins in Switzerland and Germany. Then, to my delight, the name Haberling showed up on a site called Ancestry.com in a Maryborough, Qld, Immigrants from Germany to Australia, Passenger List from Hamburg. Remember, that I was new to family history and unaware that Ancestry.com was also in it's relatively early days ( when the records were almost all related to the USA) and at the time I was very lucky because one of the few other records outside of America happened to be this one record for Immigrants to Maryborough from Britain and Germany. I immediately signed up for a subscription and was rewarded with a complete passenger list for the Haberling family arriving in Maryborough, Queensland in 1871 on board the ship Reichtstag. There I found Jacob Haberling aged 49, and wife Anna aged 42, along with five daughters, Rosine, 14 years, Amalie, 9 years, Bertha, 6 years, Barbara 4 years and Herminnie aged 2 years. Although I had a strong hunch that I had found my great great grandmother along with her family, I knew that I need more information to prove this because after all the news item had placed her arrival in 1875.

Having a maiden surname for my great great grandmother meant that I could apply for a marriage certificate and hopefully discover the names of her parents. I knew from my great grandmother's birth certificate that at the time of her birth, John and Barbara Haberling had one child, Florrie Barbara, so I guessed the date of their marriage to be between 1884 and 1887.

While I waited for the certificate to arrive by mail, I googled the Immigrant Ship Reichtstag. I discovered a book written by Penny Manderson entitled, 'The Voyages to Queensland of the Reichstag' which was one of a series of books she had published. I contacted the author who was interested to hear of a Haberling family who had arrived in 1871 on the Reichtstag. Interestingly, Penny informed me that a family with the surname of Heberling had arrived on the same ship and that a passage about this family was written in her book. She had been given this information by a descendant who lived in Maryborough. Together we wondered if this could be the same family. Still not even knowing whether this family was my own, I purchased the book written about the passengers on the 12/11/1870 -9/3/1871 journey of the Reichstag from Hamburg to Maryborough, Queensland, Australia.

Now, no longer new to family history research, I am familiar with the confusion caused by name changes,and the many and varied reasons behind the changing of spelling, or even entire surnames. Years ago, however, I had none of the knowledge or experience that I possess today, and as I waited for the arrival of Penny Manderson's book I began to feel with a sinking heart that I had found the wrong family. Then suddenly one day, my High School German came back to me and in a moment of sheer exhilarating realisation.. I remembered the umlaut! The letter 'a' written as ä in German, is pronounced as 'e' is in English (eh). Häberling would have been pronounced as Heberling in German. I think that was the moment that I experienced my first of many to come, 'genea hunches'. I also silently thanked my mother for encouraging me to learn the German language at school against the popular trend towards French.

Penny Manderson's book finally arrived, and from the paragraph in 'The Voyages to Queensland of the Reichstag' I learned that Jacob Heberling had been a bootmaker and that the Heberling family had lived in Zurich, Switzerland.

I decided to write a letter to the Archives in Zurich. While I hopefully waited for a reply, the marriage certificate arrived for my great great grandparents, John Nargar (that surname is another story) and Barbara Lena Heberling. Excitement mounted as I read the names of great great grandmother Barbara Lena's parents. They were Jacob Heberling and Anna Bosshard. Jacob and Anna were the same names as those on the passenger list of the Reichstag.

Even more exciting was that one of the witnesses to the marriage was Minnie Heberling.I felt that this could not be coincidence that the Haberling family on my passenger list ( from Ancestry,com) and the Heberling family in Penny Manderson's book, had both had arrived with daughters named Barbara and Herminnie and that here on my great great grandmother's marriage certificate, the witness was a Minnie Heberling. As I read the name of the second witness a memory came flooding back to me. My mother had told me as a young child that we had relatives by the name of Proctor in Maryborough. I possibly only remembered this because I also had a best friend by that surname as a child. The name of the witness was Willie Proctor. I wasted little time in applying for marriage certificates of the other Haberling/Heberling girls to see whether any of them had married a Proctor. I also sent for a death certificate for my 3 times great grandmother Anna Heberling hoping to find the names of her parents.

The post heralded an exciting arrival at this time. ( NB:This story may seem as though I found my ancestors fairly quickly however, most of this research was done via old fashioned letter writing and visits to Family History Societies. Some time had passed before I received my letter from the Archives in Zurich). Then the reply I did get from the Archives was written ...in GERMAN! It was some time since I had spoken German but between my rusty knowledge of the language and a helpful German/English Dictionary, I translated the letter below.

Summarised, the letter told me that there were two Jacob Häberlings (Aha! there was the umlaut over the 'a') found in the database. In the Register for Ottenbach, Band 1, (Staatsarchiv Zurich: E 88, 19, S 304) was a marriage between Jacob Häberling (18.12.1785) and Anna Ryser (29.8.1784) in Sumiswald in the Kanton of Bern, which took place on the 4 February, 1808. The family lived in Affoltern, Emmental, Bern. I was also given a birth date for one son, named Jacob Häberling born 10.4.1822.

Quickly working out that if my Jacob was aged 49 years when he arrived in Australia on the Reichstag, then he was born in -1822! I was feeling somewhat like a detective by now and hooked on the 'hunt'.

When a marriage certificate arrived confirming that Herminnie Adelle Heberling had married Willie Proctor on January 2, 1885 and that Herminnie's parents were Jacob Heberling and Anna Bosshard, I knew for certain, that I had found my Swiss family. I knew that the surname is really Häberling and that indeed my great great grandmother Barbara Lena Häberling had arrived as an immigrant aged four years, in Maryborough, Queensland, with her family on board the Reichstag in 1871.

As any passionate family historian will guess, I was by this time completely addicted to finding ancestors. From that first curiosity about my Swiss roots I have added many branches to my family tree but none so special as my Swiss family of Häberlings who I have now traced back to Christian Häberling born in 1527 in Ottenbach, Zurich, Switzerland. I have also traced the Ryser family through many generations to Xander Ryser who was born in Ottenbach in 1546. With the help of the Maryborough District Family History Society I have added many other family names to the sagging branches of my Swiss family tree. And I'm certain you will agree that there is no greater feeling than when the branches of the family tree are weighed down with fascinating ancestors.)

Blog finds Descendant of Diary

2011-09-09T04:41:00.000-07:00

How I found a Descendant of Frederick Watkins through my Blog

In October, 2010, I wrote about a copy of a Diary which I had found in a Secondhand Book shop. The hard bound photocopy of the original diary was written by Frederick Watkins, a young man who sailed from England to Australia in 1885 on board the ship 'Victor'. One of the pages of Frederick's diary is pictured above.
In the blog post, I stated that it was my desire to find a descendant of Frederick Watkins in order to pass the diary on.
Frederick Watkins was the 10th son of Thomas Watkins and Elizabeth Ann Crabb, who were born in Devon, England. His journey to Australia began in October, 1885 and he arrived in Maryborough, Queensland in January, 1886.
I posted several of Frederick's diary entries in October and November of 2010. On August 4, 2011, I discovered a comment from a family history researcher whose husband was a descendant of Frederick posted on one of the posts I had written about the diary.
The researcher who commented, informed me that her husband descended from one of Frederick Watkin's daughters, Ada Victoria.
This family historian had been researching the Watkins family for some time, when on a visit to the Box Hill Historical Society in Victoria, she learned that Frederick's diary existed and also that it was held by the State Library of Victoria. While waiting for the Victorian State Library to send her a photocopy of the diary, through a google search, she found my blog about the diary.
In the comment left on my blog, this reader informed me that Frederick had 'made his way from Queensland to Box Hill in Victoria where he married Mary Jane Brunner Sutton' and had four children - Percival, Ada Victoria, Robert and Edna. She also told me that her husband's grandfather, Frederick Watkins was born to parents Thomas Watkins and Elizabeth Ann Crabb who were farmers in Shebbear, Devon.
There was no doubt that this was the same Frederick Watkins whose diary copy I had discovered.
After a number of enthusiastic email conversations, and with no idea yet as to how the copy of the diary ended up in a Bowral, NSW bookstore, it has become evident that a local Historical Society where my reader lives in Queensland is very interested in the story of Frederick Watkins and his diary.
On my next trip to Queensland, I plan to meet the reader of my blog whose husband is the grandson of Frederick Watkins and to hand over the old copy of the diary which rightly belongs to the family of Frederick.
I feel very happy that this copy of the diary which tells of Frederick Watkins' journey by sea, from England to Australia in 1885-6, is going home where it belongs.

A Beedle a Bellman and a Bard.

2011-07-31T20:41:00.000-07:00

"Once more my muse in humble lays will sing" Edward Manton

I discovered that my 6th Great Grandfather, Edward Manton was a Poet through a Google Book Search

I knew, from the death record of my 6 x great grandfather, Edward Manton, that he was a Sexton in the parish of St Mary's, Islington, London. At the time of his death, on September 23, 1819, Edward was described as 'the late Sexton of this Parish'. Edward Manton's wife's death record in 1817, also provided confirmation of his occupation, as it stated that Mary Manton [Morgan], of the parish of St Mary's Islington, was 'the Sexton's Wife'.

Right: The Anglican Church of St Mary Islington

Now, I am loathe to admit my ignorance, however, I was not entirely certain what the role of a sexton was so I embarked upon some research both online and at my local library. I discovered that the word sexton has its origins in Medieval times, and comes from the Latin word sacristanus, which translated, means custodian of sacred things. A sexton was, therefore, a church officer whose duties included supervising the maintainance of church buildings, grounds and the graveyard as well as keeping the records of baptisms, marriages and burials in the parish. In large parishes it was usual for the sexton to be an employee of the Church, so it is very likely that Edward Manton was employed by the parish of St Mary's Islington. One can almost imagine him strolling through the beautiful church grounds and graveyard of St Mary's, pictured below right, intent upon his custodial duties.

Right: The grounds of St Mary's Islington, where my 6 times great grandfather, Edward Manton would have walked whilst undertaking his parish duties.

When researching my ancestors, I am always intent upon finding more than names and dates to add to the branches of my family tree. An important component of my research is discovering and learning as much as possible about the the lives of forebears. This includes researching the places where ancestors lived and significantly, their occupations. This information tells me much about the social, economic and even political times in which they lived and puts their lives into historical context for me. In this way, I find that I am able to feel more connected to my forebears. When researching Edward Manton, my six times great grandfather, I searched for the usual birth, baptism, marriage and death records, and researched the church where he was baptised. When I discovered that Edward was a sexton, I researched the Church of St Mary's, Islington, where he worked, in order to discover as much as possible about his life.

Edward Manton was baptised at the Anglican Church of Holy Sepulchre, Holborn, London, on April 10, 1755. His parents, Edward Manton (1720-1787) and Elizabeth Ellis (1730-1819) baptised their son in a church with a very interesting history. Originally an early Saxon church, St Sepulchre had undergone many extensive rebuilds ( it was completely gutted in the great Fire of London in 1666) as well as renovations, by the time Edward Manton was baptised. It's main claim to fame, however, is that it was made famous in folklore. In the Nursery Rhyme, 'Oranges and Lemons', the great bell of St Sepulchre, became 'the bells of old Bailey' in the well known rhyme. The foundation for this fame lay in the fact that St Sepulchre's bell tolled as condemned prisoners passed by the church, on their way to their execution at Newgate. One of the duties of the clerk of St Sepulchre was to ring a hand bell outside the cell of a condemned man at midnight to mark the day of execution. I cannot help but wonder whether growing up in such an historically important parish, may have influenced Edward's decision to become a sexton in the Anglican Church, in his later life. In 1753, at St Katherine by the Tower, London, Edward Manton married Elizabeth Ellis. St Katherine's was another historic church built beside the Tower of London, in Medieval times. Pictured above is the Church of St Sepulchre.

Edward Manton and his wife Mary (Morgan) lived with their six daughters and one son, in Church Lane, Islington. This lane no longer exists but once ran between Upper Street and Essex Road, beside the church of St Mary's. Church Lane is now known as St Mary's Path, part of which is now a footpath. St Mary's Path, Islington, is described by artist Lisa Hirst as 'an intimate little path that leads you past St Mary's.' The painting below by the artist, depicts St Mary's Path which was once known as Church Lane. Edward, sexton of the church of St Mary's, lived in a small laneway which ran past the church itself. It is quite possible that he lived in a dwelling which belonged to the church in return for his services a sexton of the parish.

Right: St Mary's Path, painted by artist Lisa Hirst, once known as Church Lane where dwelled Edward Manton and his family.

Edward Manton was obviously a man of deep religious conviction. He lived through times of great industrial and economic change in England and Europe. During the late 1780's and 1790's churches such as the Anglican and Methodist churches made a deliberate move to reach out to more people in an attempt to help bring about some stability in lives which were in turmoil. This is the political and economic background against which my 6 times great grandfather worked within the strict structure of the Church of England, as it strove to give hope to citizens searching for political, economic and social rights and for justice. This, then was the context within which my 6 times great grandparents and their seven children lived. And this is where I left my research, for some time.

Recently, a cousin who was travelling through out England, emailed to me, some photographs. She had visited the Church of St Mary's, Islington but discovered that no old records were held at the church. She informed me, however, that she had been quite moved, walking through the church and grounds where our g g g g g g grandfather would have spent his days in the late 1700's and early 1800's.

I began to think about where I could look for more information about a sexton of St Mary's, and decided to begin with a google book search about St Mary's Church itself. When I extended my search to include the name Edward Manton, the following result almost took my breath away. 'A copy of verses humbly presented to all my worthy masters and mistresses in the parish of St Mary, Islington: by Edward Manton, Beadle and Bellman.' Author: Edward Manton, Publisher: London- Printed by T. Bayley (no. 120), Petticoat Lane,near Whitechapel: for the year 1791.

I felt at once that this was Edward Manton, my 6 times great grandfather. The date of publishing was 1791, when I knew him to be a sexton in this parish. Having no idea what a beadle was, however, I conducted a google search and discovered that the term 'beadle' was an old word used by the Anglican church for non other than... a sexton. There was little likelihood of there being two men by the name of Edward Manton, who were sextons in the parish of St Mary's and so I knew I had made a fantastic new discovery. Edward Manton, sexton, beadle and bellman of St Mary's, Islington and my 6 times great grandfather, was also, a POET!

A further search of the title of this document, led me to the 18th Century Collections Online, on the website of the National Library of Australia. Logging in with my member ID, I found that the original document is held by the Bodleian Library, Oxford. Then through a link, I found a copy of the original first page of Edward Manton's book of poems. Words cannot describe the emotions I felt, as I sat and gazed upon the writings of my ancestor.

Right: Poems by Edward Manton. This original document is held in the Bodleian Library, Oxford.

Sources:

http://galegroup.com.rp.nla.gov.au/

'History, topography, and antiquities of the Parish of St Mary's, Islington.' Author John Nelson.

http://solo.bodleian.ox.ac.uk/primo.library.libweb/action/display.do?tabs=detailsTab&..

http://www.googlebooks.com/

GRO

http://www.ancestry.com/

'A COPY of VERSES humbly presented to all my worthy Masters and Mistresses In the Parish of St MARY, ISLINGTON,' by Edward Manton, Beadle and Bellman.

Image of Stained Glass Window above top, is from the Church of St Sepulchre, Holborn, London.

Can Family History Heal a Family Feud?

2011-06-08T17:35:00.000-07:00

Can Family History Mend a Rift in the Family?

Conflict occurs in many families. Sadly, too often, the result of conflict is estrangement rather than the resolving of issues. There are probably a myriad of causes of conflict within families including jealousy, sibling rivalry, misunderstanding and disagreement over possessions which are just a few of the factors which contribute towards estrangement in families. Family feuds are well known. There is even a fun television game show which bears the name Family Feud. But family feuds are not fun. Estrangement is a tragedy for all family members involved.

There are rivalries in families which are recent, and there are old family feuds, many of which which have persisted for generations. Often the participants in long running family feuds are quite unaware even, of the original cause of conflict. Let me take a classic example of an unresolved family feud; Romeo and Juliet. The Montague and Capulet families, of Verona, Italy, were engaged in a family feud which extended back to a time before the family members were even born. A more tragic end to family rivalry, one could not imagine. Shakespeare did, of course. And inevitably, poor Juliet died, the victim of the family feud. I wonder what the finale to this Shakespearean tragedy might have been if the Montague and Capulet families had undertaken to research their family history rather than stubbornly adhering to their family quarrelling. How interesting the outcome might have been, had the families discovered common ancestry. A relationship, other than rivalry, might have succeeded in changing the perception these two families had of each other where all else failed. Of course had Juliet and Romeo discovered that they were cousins, a whole new set of obstacles could have arisen!

In Shakespeare's play, the 'Family Feud' had become an inherent part of the identity of the Montague and Capulet families. Our identity is of course, who we are. It is the places and the cultures we come from in addition to the family, traditions, celebrations and all things in our background that give us a sense of identity. The journey into our family history is a quest for identity. That of course, necessitates, identifying with others to whom we are related and inevitably discovering and being party to rivalries and estrangements. Along with the discovery of identity, family history can be much more than a search for ancestry. It can be a means by which to begin the healing process for family feuds and estrangements.

Of course we can not alter the tragic ending for the two 'star crossed' lovers in William Shakespeare's famous play. For eternity, the Montague and Capulet families will continue to feud. It is an interesting concept, however, that family history might hold the key to opening long closed doors between family members. I frequently see comments on my own blogs and on the blogs of others, such as 'family history has helped to heal a family feud', or 'I have found a long estranged sister through blogging my family history'. It is quite conceivable, that in this wonderfully high technological world we live in, which provides us with online research and family tree facilitators such as Ancestry.com, GenesReunited and FindMyPast, (to name just a few), and which connects us world wide, that our journey into our ancestral past might also be a journey towards changing the way in which we inherently see ourselves. Changing our perception of our self and our place in the family, allows us to change our thinking about how we perceive our family and more significantly how we perceive family feuds, rifts, and conflict as well. Changing the way we see ourselves as we become a part of an extended family picture can help us to let go of inherent attitudes towards other family members and begin the journey towards healing family rifts.

An excellent example of the way in which the changing of inherent thinking about ourselves can change our attitudes, is that of our identity as Australians. The white Australian identity, for a long time was one of having inherited a 'birthstain'. That our nation's foundations were built on felonious beginnings, was once an inherently shameful part of who we were as Australians. There is no doubt that researching family history is one of the significant factors which has contributed towards the positive change of attitude this country has concerning not only its convict roots but importantly its Aboriginal origins. As we have discovered the significant contribution that our ancestors made to this lucky country in which we live, and gained a bettter understanding of past conflicts, we have become increasingly proud of both our convict and our aboriginal history. Previous shame of descending from a convict ancestor has been replaced by pride at what our forebears achieved under inconceivably difficult conditions. Old notions that this country's history began with the arrival of a convict settlement has changed to acknowledge that native people were displaced from their land. Historians have attempted to understand the true history of Australia and to accept responsibility for dispute and estrangement. As a nation we have made some steps toward understanding the plight of the native people of this land. With understanding, eventually comes acceptance and healing. This ability to change one's attitude to one's identity, is not restricted to those inheriting a convict or aboriginal background. If a better understanding of one's past can build a nation which is working towards happy acceptance and feel pride in its forebears, then it is safe to say that a similar understanding of our identity and place in our larger family, can help us as individuals, to accept past rivalry, to bring about a change of thinking and build bridges between families.

Recently, I had a relative whom I had never known or met, contact me. This person made it clear that her mother (still living) would not approve of her speaking to me. I knew that my family for reasons unknown to me, had for many years had nothing to do with this relative's side of the family. She was not sure why this was so either, however believed that it had something to do with our grandparents. Her grandmother was the sister of my grandfather. Both long gone of course. Two generations on and with no clue as to why we are forbidden to be in contact with each other, we have now enjoyed a number of long and very friendly telephone calls and have exchanged fascinating family photographs and information. We have filled in gaps in our knowledge of the family for each other. My cousin and I are getting to know each other and have been fortunate enough to be capable of letting go of the inherent idea that our families are rivals. We have determined that the family feud may have begun over a quarrel about a dinner set, or perhaps a bag of sovereigns after the death of our mutual great great grandmother (pictured right) After an old feud had separated our families for all of our lives, this cousin read my blog and contacted me. I am very glad that she did. Together we are setting about to mend the rift in the family which occurred more than 80 yeas ago. My cousin's mother still does not know that we are in contact but we are working on that!

My family history blogs have put me in contact with a number of previously estranged relatives. Many of the causes of conflict are unclear, however, in most of my family feuds, it appears that disputes arose over possessions after the death of a parent. There have been a few other more interesting feuds of course. One estranged branch of the family went into exile in America, after a sister became pregnant to her brother-in-law. Then the young mother of the child became estranged from both her parents and baby, after it was decided that the child would grow up believing his grandparents to be his parents. Husbands have left wives and children, then remarried, never to be heard of again (until I, the family historian came along and tracked them down). I have found half siblings who my mother never knew she had, believing herself all her life to be an only child and I am fortunate to have been welcomed when I have made contact.

Not all conflict within families will be resolved through a journey into family history, but I have found that by understanding who we are, where we come from and inevitably identifying with the many and diverse members of our large family tree is an excellent place to begin.

The Illustration which depicts Romeo and Juliet is an 1870 painting by Ford Maddox Brown.

Where to stow your Ancestor's Baggage....

2011-05-31T20:06:00.000-07:00

What to do with your Ancestors' 'Baggage'

When she passed away, a maternal great aunt, born in 1910, left me three old suitcases as well as a large, beautifully carved wooden trunk. Inside, each, was an Aladdin's cave of wonderful trinkets, clothes, vintage hats, hand embroidered table cloths and table napkins. As I removed each beautifully handcrafted item, I discovered my aunt's wedding dress. From photographs, I knew, this was the wedding dress she had sewn and worn for her second wedding, to Major Alexander Wallace Johnston. The gown is made of gold lace and silk and I simply couldn't resist trying the fabulous dress on ( and it fitted perfectly). My daughters joined me in a colourful journey into the past as we discovered hats, ball gowns, long embroidered gloves, fob watches and costume jewelery. I am certain that each individual item from the trunk and the two suitcases, has a story of its own, however, I can only imagine the tales many of these items could tell if they could talk.

As for the gold wedding dress, I happen to know that it speaks of not only love, but also of betrayal and heartbreak. My great aunt's first husband and the great love of her life, left her for a younger woman with whom he already had two children( the result of an affair). Although her second marriage was a happy one, my aunt, as she lay dying at the age of 91, revealed to me that she had never stopped loving her first husband. She felt the need to confess something to me,that she felt guilty about, before she died. So, my great aunt, nearing the end of her life, told me the following story.

When her husband left her, William Holme Cameron was a man of considerable means. As it turned out, to my great aunt's joy, her spouse had trustingly placed all of his assets in his wife's name( no doubt to avoid taxes). After his act of betrayal and his subsequent desertion, 'Jock' as William was known, returned home to my great aunt to discuss the transfer of his great wealth back to his self, with a generous offer to make some provision for her. My great aunt, both heartbroken and angry, at the time, had closed the door on her ex husband refusing to discuss anything with him. She was unforgiving and kept her husband's wealth for herself, all except for one thing. A cake shop! (Jock, had owned amongst much property, a chain of cake shops). And one cake shop was his reward for cheating on his wife.

My great aunt looked at me sadly,and said with obviously sincere regret, 'I have never told this to anyone but I should have given poor Jock more. I gave him nothing. I feel terrible about that and I have carried this guilt around with me for more than forty years.' Relieved, my great aunt, leaned back against her pillows, silent for a moment. Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, she sat up and exclaimed vehemently, 'No! I'm glad he got nothing. That rotten man didn't deserve a thing!' Well at least that was off her chest! And with that, I had inherited a confession. My great aunts contrition, be it ever so fleeting was entrusted to me. This dying elderly lady, the sister of my grandmother, had handed me with her 40 year old secret. I am therefore, the keeper of my aunt's story, and as such, I have the responsibility of deciding what to do with it.

As the keeper of this secret told to me on a relative's deathbed, I have decided to reveal my great aunt's confession. After all, it makes a good story and I have weighed up the consequences. There is no one alive that this tale will offend and deathbed confessions, I have discovered, can be and often are, very interesting. Regret, guilt, even crime as well as a gamut of other acts and emotions, are the ingredients of confessions from the deathbed. Delving into the lives of ancestors is a journey filled with surprises, but, not all surprises will be pleasant. Family baggage, I call it. Most of our ancestors had some. These are the deeds and stories which our forebears, in all probability, did not want known. They contain secrets that we, as family historians, become the keepers of. Keepers of secrets or tellers. That is our dilemma as family historians. What do we do with the 'family baggage'?

There is some quite fascinating ancestral baggage on the branches of my family tree. In my sometimes murky family background, dwells a wealth of family secrets, lies, confessions and wrongdoings, which, with all good intention, as the family sleuth, I investigate and unravel, until I discover the truth. With each discovery I must decide whether my 'find' is for publishing or not.

There are occasions when I have to wrestle with my conscience, because no matter how interesting the truth is, I need to be aware of any pain it might cause other family members. A recently new found cousin revealed to me that my great grandfather was not, as I had been told, killed by a falling tree branch, whilst walking home from work. According to my cousin's alternate tale of his untimely death, he was involved in a punch up with two drunken sons, one of whom was my grandfather. In the heat of the fight, my great grandfather was knocked to the ground and the story about the branch was told at the hospital to avoid trouble with the law. If this story is the truth, and the branch never fell on my great grandfather's head, then my grandfather and great uncle could have been charged with manslaughter. In all truth I must admit that I preferred 'death by falling branch' as a fitting end to my great grandfather's life, however, I am a fact seeker and so, must deal with the unpleasantness that often partners it. And now, at least I can overcome my fear of standing beneath trees!

As a family historian, I am always searching for the truth, however, sometimes, what is true is not something we wish to hear. When I discover something of a disturbing nature, which might offend or hurt someone living, the choice is simple. The truth sometimes needs to be left hidden. Occasionally, the family historian is required to keep the family secrets. Sometimes we must stow the ancestral baggage where it will be safely secreted away.

I am a story teller but I must choose wisely which family stories to tell. So,I can quite happily reveal that my husband's step great great grandmother Bessie Marchbank White, apologised upon her deathbed (true) for heartlessly placing her husband's two young children by his first wife into foster care. Her contrition came far to late, however, the story still circulates amongst family members, as though it helps mend her actions. I am able to reveal that my great uncle Rex was suspected of being a spy during World War 2 in England. He had no offspring to offend with this story and his only living brother, aged in his nineties is able to laugh at the tale.

Walking into the lives of our ancestors is much like walking into an old dusty attic that hasn't been disturbed for many years. You will find old familiar things you have seen or have heard about. You might possibly be in for some surprises. You might unearth old secrets which have been kept locked away for hundreds of years so before you open the rusty old door to the family attic, be prepared to have to make some tough decisions. Not everything you discover will be pleasant and not everyone in your family is going to want the baggage that you might find in the attic placed on display.

Ancestors in Asylums- Were they Lunatics?

2011-05-25T17:45:00.000-07:00

Ancestors in Asylums - Were They Lunatics?

' I have terrible news,' my husband declared with a grim face recently. 'I have just found out that my great grandfather died in Callan Park Mental Hospital.'

'Watch out for mental illness in the family, ' warned a cousin some years ago. 'So many of our Weston ancestors died in asylums!

Whilst it is true that my husband's great grandfather did spend time in Callan Park, and certainly at least six members of my Weston branch of the family tree, did indeed die in mental hospitals, my research into the reasons for which they were placed in these institutions has produced some interesting results. I have found during the course of many years of research that there are a surprisingly diverse number of reasons for which our ancestors were placed in asylums (besides the obvious; being mentally unstable). When you find an ancestor in an asylum, do not immediately assume that they were insane or as the mentally ill were once known -lunatics. Keep in mind, of course, that as a family historian, one does need to be prepared to find some skeletons in the family closet! It is important, however, to have the facts correct before you 'out' your family skeletons to the rest of the family. In other words, it is perhaps wiser to check for more information before you declare great great grandpa 'a lunatic' to your relatives. He just might not have been.

My first experience of mental illness in my family was at the age of 14. Whilst driving me home from a ballet lesson one day, my mother said to me unexpectedly, , ' You know your great uncle Alec is in a mental asylum. Without further ado, Mother added, 'He went mad when his wife and child burned to death in a house fire. He became a lunatic, she added.' And that was that! Uncle Alec was never spoken of again!

Looking back, it now seems difficult to understand why I did not ask my mother to expand on this blunt announcement. She might as well have declared that Uncle Alec became a postman, for all the attention I gave the news. Aged in my early teens, and with other things obviously of much more interest to me than an uncle, who was possibly mad, this seemed explanation enough!

Above Right: Goodna Mental Hospital

Because my mother died before I ventured into the fascinating journey into my ancestral past, I have no one to tell me the details of Uncle Alex's demise or to explain why he was a patient at the Brisbane Mental Hospital at Goodna. ( I am currently pursuing this line of research). What I did discover, to my surprise, was that Alec was not, in fact my great uncle, the youngest brother of my grandfather, Colin Hamilton McDade, as I was brought up to believe. Alexander Gilmour McDade was actually the son of my grandfather's youngest sister, Mary and therefore the nephew of my grandfather, not his brother. And if that is not confusing enough, read on. Mary had become pregnant to her older sister, Maggie's husband at the tender age of 14 whilst the family still resided in Cumbernauld, Scotland. Nine months after the birth of baby Alexander, the family ( minus Maggie and her disgraced husband) left Scotland to make a new life in Australia with young Alexander being brought up to believe that his grandparents, John and Elizabeth McDade were his parents. Mary fled the family on arrival in Australia and sadly, was not heard from again. John and Elizabeth died, leaving grandson, Alexander, orphaned at the age of almost 13. This tangled web of deception about his parentage, I reasoned, coupled with the untimely death of both his wife and son, was more than enough reason for my poor uncle(2nd cousin) to suffer a mental breakdown. That was my profound theory - until I discovered that Alec's wife did not die in a house fire at all!

Reliability is not one of the 'family anecdote's' most trustworthy qualities, as most family historians very quickly discover. I found Alexander's wife, Linda, alive and well, divorced from Alec and remarried. Their son, Trevor Andrew had, however, died in December, 1954. So, the question remained - Did Uncle Alec suffer some sort of mental breakdown after the death of his son? Or was there another reason that he might have been admitted to the Goodna Mental Hospital? I apologise to anyone reading this blog that I cannot answer this question with certainty, just yet. As soon as I know myself, I will let you know. I am making use of this 'yet to be confirmed' example, in my own family history to illustrate the importance of checking the facts before writing your ancestor off as a 'lunatic' or as mentally insane.

Further research into Uncle Alec's background led me to be consider the possibility that he may not have had a breakdown following the tragic death of a young son, but that he may have in fact, inherited some form of mental illness. His biological father, ( who was also his uncle - confusing, I know and almost enough to make me go quite mad myself) was Andrew Smith. Well he was and he wasn't! Andrew's real name was Antonas Ustila. Antonas was a Lithuanian refugee whose family had escaped from Lithuania and was living in Glasgow, Scotland. ( most European refugees living in Scotland were forced to anglicise their surnames, Smith being the most common name used). Whilst researching Andrew's Lithuanian ancestry, I discovered that his father, and Alexander's grandfather, Matthorgus (anglicised to Matthew) had died as a patient in a mental hospital called Hartwood Asylum in Scotland.

Right: Hartwood Mental Asylum where Mathorgus Ustila died.

Now, at this point in time, I could easily have written dear old Uncle/Cousin Alec as having been destined to end up a lunatic, having as it appeared, inherited a mental illness from his grandfather. This seemed a perfectly logical explanation and one I could have been content with, except for one curious thing. It was becoming apparent that I was discovering an alarming number of my ancestors popping up in asylums all over England as well as in Australia, and more significantly, in completely different branches of my family tree.

'Curiouser and curiouser'... I felt that the incident of finding multiple ancestors in an asylums needed further investigation. When my great grandfather, Leonard Cuthbert Reece-Hoyes, reported to have drowned in a river at Ballina, NSW in 1930, miraculously turned up in an Asylum in Sydney some hundreds of kilometres away and some nine years later, I decided that this research was urgent. I was quietly confident that great grandad was not THAT good a swimmer! And if there was an genetic predisposition toward mental illness in a number of family lines, I wanted to know.

It did not take me long to discover that our understanding of mental disorders has undertaken a long journey via trial and error. Societal attitudes towards, and medical understanding of, mental illnesses, have moved thruogh a pcontinual process of change since the the first mental hospital was built in London in 1247 (Bethlehem Royal Hospital). Patients were placed in asylums for a number of different reasons, and though many of these people had genuine medical conditions such as epilepsy or were alcoholics, they were placed in the same hospital, the same clothing and treated the same way (inhumanely in many cases) as patients who suffered from mental conditions. Even women suffering from post natal depression were locked away in prison like conditions and often never released or their state of mind never reviewed. In Catholic countries such as Ireland, a man who wished to remarry and who could not divorce for religious reasons, was sadly, able have a wife placed in a mental institution for the rest of her life. This was viewed as reason for an annulment of the marriage, allowing a man to remarry.

I do not profess to be an expert on Asylums, and I am certain that others might benefit from their own research, however, I have discovered from my own study of this subject, that not all ancestors who were in mental hospitals suffered from mental afflictions. Great grandfather Leonard Cuthbert Reece-Hoyes, for one, (who the family is quite satisfied did not attempt a long swim to Sydney) died in the Liverpool Asylum because he was dying from cancer of the tongue and had no one to care for him. He had deserted his family in Ballina, leaving his poor wife placing advertisements in newspapers desperately seeking information about his unexplained disappearance.

One of my Weston ancestors who died in an asylum in London, did so as a respected member of staff at the hospital. Several other members of a later generation of this same family entered asylums as alcoholics, which was an extremely common reason for ancestors appearing on asylum records.

As for Uncle/Cousin Alexander,I am looking forward to finding out the reason that both he and his grandfather died in mental hospitals, one in Scotland and the other in Australia. So far non of my ancestors who I have discovered in Asylums have actually been lunatics. But you just never know....

A Double Wedding Overlooked: It Pays to Cross Reference.

2011-04-27T23:27:00.000-07:00

A Double Wedding in the Family - overlooked!

With the Royal wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton injecting a spark of romance in to our lives, I thought it an appropriate time to talk about weddings. In particular I would like to mention the value of recording dates, cross referencing dates.

Like most family historians, I have a large collection of certificates - birth, marriage, death, baptism and so on. So many dates! It is quite overwhelming. naturally, I record all dates, as I confirm them, on my family tree. Something, however, I did not always do was to compare dates to see if they matched. Before I introduced my system of cross referencing dates for events in family groups, I had overlooked a significant event in my family - a double wedding.

The photograph, above right, from a New Zealand newspaper clip ( not the wedding to which I refer but a lovely example of another double wedding in our family) shows the double wedding of my husband's half great aunts, Mary and her sister Betty White. I don't have a date for this wedding yet, although I'm certain that a relative in New Zealand will be able to tell me as I am in contact with a descendant of Betty's marriage to Erik William Pawsey, one of the bridegrooms shown in this photograph.

It is not uncommon to find double weddings occurring with siblings as the brides or grooms on your family tree, however, along my journey into my own family history, I recently discovered that I had been quite unaware that there occurred an even more more unusual double wedding in my own family - involving a mother and daughter. My great great grandmother and my great great great grandmother were married in a double wedding ceremony, a fact which I had been quite unaware of and which I was most excited to discover!

many years ago, I had sent away for the marriage certificate of my great great grandmother, Sarah Frayne to Edward Joseph Weston, in the days when the Queensland State Archives stored and supplied historical BDM certificates. I knew the date of their marriage to be December, 24, 1884.

Sarah was the daughter of a convict named Michael Frayne (sometimes spelled Frane or Frame) from Dublin, Ireland and Mary Williams who was reportedly born in Singleton, NSW. ( No birth record has been located). Sarah was born in Edward Street, Brisbane in 1868 and her father Michael died when she was aged 10 years, in 1878. Whilst having much success in tracing my Frayne convict ancestors (there were more than one!) I have had considerable difficulty in finding out much about my g g g grandmother, Mary Williams.

Some years ago I had found a marriage in 1884, in Maryborough, between a widower, named James Shevelling and a widow by the name of Mary Frame. I suspected that the bride in this marriage might be my 3 times great grandmother although Mary's age was too young to be my great great grandmother. Of course every family historian quickly learns to be aware of just how fluctuating our ancestors ages can be - especially when it suits them! ( Just look at census forms!).

Even though I believed that this was a second marriage for my 3 times great grandmother Mary Frayne [Williams], I had never found a marriage between her and my convict g g g grandfather, Michael Frayne or a birth record for Mary, so there was no concrete evidence to support my theory. I duly recorded this marriage as a 'possible family event', recording the date as well but did not add the marriage to the family tree. Probably because I was so excited that I might have found my first ever clue as to who Mary's parents were from this new marriage certificate I overlooked something extremely relevant and something which would provide a vital clue when it became obvious to me.

My lovely surprise came when I began sorting through and attempting to catalogue all of my my birth, death and marriage certificates. Out of interest, largely to discover how many of my ancestors' birth, marriage or death dates matched those of other family members, I began a spread sheet catalogue of dates for each family on my tree.

I cannot express the sheer thrill I felt when I suddenly realised that the marriage of my 2 times great grandmother Sarah Frayne to Edward Weston not only took place in the same year and on the exact date of the marriage of Mary Frame and James Shevelling, but that the wedding was obviously a double wedding which took place in the home of Mr Bath at Bazaar Street, Maryborough according to the rights of the Presbyterian Church. My 3 times great grandmother, Mary Williams and her only daughter, Sarah Frayne had shared a double wedding. Perhaps even more exciting was that I had added now another generation to my family tree as on the marriage certificate of Mary and james Shevelling, Mary's parents were named as Joseph Williams and Mary Jane Kelly. (although that is quite another story!).

With my spread sheets now completed and updated regularly as I receive new certificates, I have easily discovered ancestors who share birthdays, marriages and death dates. I can see as far back to the 1400's who shared significant dates with myself and my children.

In the case of the double wedding of my great great grandmother, Sarah and her mother, my great great great grandmother Mary, it proved to be much more than a pleasant surprise. The discovery of this double wedding led me to new branches on my ever growing family tree.

So now, back to my cross referencing. Who knows what other clues I might find from the past!

World War 1 Wednesday - Photographs

2011-04-12T21:33:00.000-07:00

A Grandfather's World War 1 Photographs

'Now God be thanked Who has marched with us His hour, And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping, With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power, To turn, as swimmers into cleanness leaping.' Rupert Brooke 1887-1915 'Peace': (1914) 'We'll be over, we're coming over And we won't come back till it's over, over there.'

George M Cohen 1878-1942 'Over There': 1917 Song

'Tin Trunk Hid a Story'- a $4 find.

2011-04-11T20:33:00.000-07:00

A $4 Find in a Secondhand Bookstore

A Copy of the Diary

written by

MOTHER MARY PAUL MULQUIN

ON BOARD

THE 'GREAT BRITAIN'

1873

Right: The Ship 'Great Britain' on which Mother Mary Paul Mulquin sailed to Australia in 1873.

Whilst rummaging through a secondhand bookstore recently, as I am commonly apt to do, I discovered a plastic sleeve containing a hard bound typed manuscript bearing the price tag of a mere $4. As I reached inside the plastic sleeve I felt my excitement growing as I saw a document entitled, 'A Copy of the Diary of Mother Mary Paul Mulquin' on board the 'Great Britain' 1873.' I can never resist an exciting 'find' and though I realised that this was only a copy of the diary, I made my purchase,already curious to discover what I could about Mother Mary Paul Mulquin and her Diary.

After a brief read through the copy of the diary, I could see that it appeared capably written and significantly, that it contained a great deal of interesting information about the 1873 voyage to Australia, of the ship Great Britain.

Right: The first entry in Mother Mary Paul Mulquin's Diary

Not wasting a moment when I arrived home, I began to read the diary in depth. Mother Mary Paul Mulquin's quaint style of writing proved to be a fascinating and most compelling story. The Catholic Sister's use of language was masterful and her entertaining and descriptive writing kept me reading late into the night. Such lovely use of words, as those I have reproduced in the diary excerpts below, transported me back in time, to the world in which Mother Mary Paul Mulquin and her fellow sisters lived, more than 140 years ago. Her words gave me more than a mere glimpse but rather, generously permitted me to share the every pleasure and pain of her meticulously recorded long voyage from Ireland to Australia.

The diary was fascinating and detailed, from the very first passage. The excitement felt by Mother Mary Paul Mulquin was infectious and one could not help but admire the courage of this nun and her fellow religious sisters as they embarked on their journey to a brave new world. Her emotions are conveyed through her every word.

'We started from our loved convent and sisters at 11 a.m. Oct., 22nd (Wednesday) and met at the terminus a throng of relatives and others, such as was rarely if ever, seen before on a like occasion.'

'we felt the novelty of the scene, and resolved at whatever cost, to brave every other danger after breaking ties so near and dear.'

On reaching Dublin, which was the first stop on her journey to England, (where she was to depart for Australia), Mother Mary Paul Mulquin wrote,

'Everyone was so kind, so like our own sisters at home...M Vincent served the sausages, while S.M. Clare who is remarkably like our dear sister Ignatius helped us to veal cutlets and at the end of the table stood a round of beef, after doing justice to all we had apple pie, jelly, wine of various sorts, in fact everything - served in elegant style.'

The more I read of Mother Mary Paul's diary, the more I was irresistibly drawn into her life through her poetic and wonderfully descriptive account of her journey. The following are just a few excerpts from the diary, which I found to be delightful anecdotes detailing the voyage on the Great Britain.

'We have a nice piano in the Ladies' cabin, and some very finished performers in singing and music favour us with their execution.'

'..the bell rang for dinner and we sallied through passages, ascended steep flights of stairs to the saloon a beautiful, lighted apartment, with mirrors all around and tables laden with every variety of viands - a range of every coloured glasses suspended from the ceiling, the seats covered with crimson velvet, and everything that luxury could invent to make the meal agreeable.'

Right: The Dining Saloon as described in the Diary with its crimson velvet seats.

'A harp gave forth its notes very sweetly on deck, the moon shone beautifully so our party took a turn after tea and a more delicious scene could hardly be imagined - all so still -'

The manner in which the author of this diary greeted every trial on board the ship Great Britain revealed her great strength of character, her deep faith and her marvellous sense of humour.

'Walking on deck today is difficult enough. Sliding to the edge at every step, and falling about in all directions, getting up and down stairs is a dangerous business, we sometimes fall back and again on our noses - so anyone to see us would think we were the worse for wear after dinner.'

'It is difficult enough at other times as the vessel dips on both sides - then it is a real novel sight - trying to keep your place. ....I was thrown from the end of the Ladies' cabin into the bathroom, on my back and could not rise for some time - the door burst open by the fall and M. Patrick thinking that I was doing it intentionally began to laugh at the disaster, but instantly she was taken off her feet and pitched to the opposite side while others were laid flat on the corridor - so to see us all getting into the saloon for meals, staggering and holding seats for balance would cause general merriment.'

Right: The deck of the ship 'Great Britain'

After reading Mother Mary Paul Mulquin's extraordinarily detailed account of the voyage of the Great Britain, I found myself compelled to find out more about this brave Nun who left Limerick in Ireland to travel to Australia in 1873.

My first Internet search was of the National Library of Australia's website to find out whether its holdings included the original diary written by this Catholic Sister from Limerick in Ireland. It was immediately obvious to me, that Mother Mary Mulquin must have been a person of considerable interest, as amongst the library's holdings I discovered 'Biographical cuttings on Mother Mary Paul Mulquin, Limerick nun sailed to Australia in 1873, containing one or more cuttings from newspapers or journals.'

A biographical entry in the online Australian Dictionary of Biography (author Kathleen Dunlop Kane) informed me that the sister's name was Katherine Mulquin, that she was born in Limerick in 1842 and died in Australia in 1930. I also discovered several articles written about Mother Mary Paul Mulquin on a site dedicated to the Friends of St Kilda cemetery as well as the Presentation College, Windsor, Melbourne Victoria.

From these websites, I learned that Presentation Convent Windsor, a school in Melbourne, Victoria, was established in 1873 'on the arrival of seven Presentation Sisters from Ireland.'[1] The governments of Australia in 1872, deemed it financially impossible to continue to support Catholic Schools, thus rendering them unable to survive whilst staffed by lay people. The Parish priest at St Mary's, East St Kilda, one Father Corbett quickly wrote a letter to the Presentation Convent in Limerick requesting urgent assistance with the education of Melbourne's growing population of Catholic students. The letter began, 'Dear Reverend Mother. From the ends of the earth I write to you for help....'[2] Along with six other nuns, Mother Mary Paul Mulquin embarked on the long journey to Melbourne, Australia leaving Liverpool, England in September of 1873 and arriving in Port Melbourne on December, 21, 1873. Mother Mary Paul spoke French and Italian fluently and being very fond of music, introduced her pupils to a curriculum which favoured the arts, manners, letter writing and social graces. When the emphasis on academic education for women became essential with the University of Melbourne allowing the admission of women in 1881, Mother Mary Paul, was able to adapt to the change in educational trend and 'examinations began to take precedence over accomplishments.'[3]

On a personal note, I discovered that Mother Mary Paul Mulquin was born, Katherine Mulquin, in 1842, in Adare, Limerick, Ireland, to parents John Mulquin, a farmer and his wife Catherine (maiden surname Sheehy). John and Catherine Mulquin were comfortably well off enough to provide their daughter with a good education at the Faithful Companions of Jesus Convent, Laurel Hill, Limerick. In 1863, aged 21 years, Katherine was professed in the Congregation of the Blessed Virgin Mary as a nun, adopting the religious name of Mary Paul.

Having discovered information about Mother Mary Paul Mulquin, her family, background and place of origin, I then conducted a google search to find out more about the sister's life in Australia, with the group of the Sisters of Presentation from the Limerick Convent. My very first find was a most exciting discovery on the Trove website. A feature article published in the Australian Women's weekly regarding the 100 year Centenary of Presentation College,a school in Windsor, Victoria, in 1973, not only included much biographical information about Mother Mary Paul Mulquin but significantly, revealed the amazing circumstances in which the original diary was discovered.

Right: The Presentation Convent, Windsor, Victoria. Now known as Presentation College.

The diary written by Mother Mary Paul Mulquin, is amongst a collection of letters, photographs and newspaper cuttings which the Presentation College, Windsor now holds in its archives. Some years after the death of Mother Mary Paul, in 1930, two sisters at the presentation Convent were given the task of cleaning out an old tin trunk. As Sister Mary Kavanagh sorted through the contents of the trunk, she became increasingly more fascinated.She described the trunk as 'a miniature museum.'[4] Amongst the items discovered in the trunk which had belonged to Mother Mary Paul Mulquin was the diary which described her voyage to Australia in 1873.

Right: The clipping from the Women's Weekly, from the Trove website, dated November, 28, 1973, which tells of the accidental discovery of Mother Mary Paul Mulquin's Diary.

Right: Eva Anderson who died at age three. her father was unable to remain in the family homeand sold it to the Catholic Church. The house became the first Presentation School in Australia.

From all accounts it is obvious that Mother Mary Paul Mulquin was an intelligent and deeply spiritual woman. Her strength of character, her courage and conviction is evident through her dedication to education and her willingness to leave her homeland to travel a great distance to found a school to educate catholic girls. Mother Mary Paul remained as Superior of the College until 1899 and remained at the Windsor Convent where she died on February, 10 th 1930.

http://www.foskc.org/mulquin.htm

Australian Dictionary of Biography - online Edition (Mulquin, Katherine (1842-1930), Biographical Entry.

http://www.foskc.org/mulquin.htm

http://trove.nla.gov.au/ndp/del/printArticleJpg/51197412/3?print=y

Never leave a stone..or a page unturned.

2011-04-07T15:23:00.000-07:00

How I found Uncle Rex's home in 'Country Life'.

Last week I wrote a blog about the unexpected and fortuitous way in which we often find things genealogical.. I also wrote a blog recently about church kneelers, which was inspired by an article in a 2010 issue of the English magazine, Country Life. I have an English friend who has over the years passed on to me old copies of this beautiful magazine. Now I subscribe to it myself not only because I enjoy the magazine, but for genealogical purposes. It is a weekly magazine which, in addition to some most informative written articles and photographic images, advertises the sale of homes throughout the UK. Now, to set things straight, I am not in the market for a 15th century country house in England, although I have been known to be mesmerized by the glossy pictures of these historic homes, some manor houses, other vicarages, rectaries and churches. Many of them are Grade 1 and 2 heritage listed, and while some are picturesquely situated in the surrounds of hundreds of rolling green acres, or the hilly beauty of Wordsworth and Beatrix Potter's Lakes District, others are bordered by leafy green and heavily wooded forests from which one expects Robin Hood to appear with his band of merry men. Some of my favourite properties are dramatically perched on a steep hill or clifftop overlooking the bright blue waters of Cornwall.

The significant reason that I enjoy looking at Country Life, is that it gives me a glimpse of the places and the counties where my ancestors lived in Britain. Not all of my forbears, of course, in fact for the better part, very few of my ancestors, were privileged to dwell in grand manor homes, but through the images in Country Life I am able to acquire a familiarity with the different counties in England, many of which show the surrounding countryside.

When it comes to my ancestors who worked as 'Ag 'Labs' (agricultural labourers), and I do have a fair few of those, I am able to gain an understanding of the land on which they toiled. For those who lived and worked in villages I have a collection of emotive visual images of the actual places and counties where they came from. I find it reassuring to understand the appearance of the the counties, towns and villages where my ancestors lived and worked. When I can mentally picture the places of my ancestry, the ancestors become much more real to me.

Last week, my husband, who was reading the latest issue of Country Life, announced that he always hoped to see my great Uncle Rex's grand country estate Marwell Hall as he looked through each magazine. Since this stately home in Hampshire, once belonged to the Bishop of Winchester and then King Henry the VIII, (who presented it to the Seymour family) and because it is now a part of the Zoological Park, I thought it unlikely that we would see an advertisement for this particular home in our magazine. Or so I thought...

I sometimes search E-Bay for documents and magazine articles, postcards etc and have been quite fortunate in the past to find things relating to the subject of my family history searches. As unlikely a place to discover things genealogical as it may seem, I have purchased in the past, postcards as well as several 18th century documents relating to Marwell Hall on that very site. My husband's comment set me to thinking, and so, the very next morning, I searched on E-Bay for 'Marwell Hall Country Life'. I am not certain whether I am perhaps the only person in the world looking for things related to Marwell Hall or whether I was simply lucky, but, I found a 1963 advertisement for the sale of the estate from an old issue of Country Life and as you can see by the images here, I purchased it.

I have many images of Marwell Hall from the outside, however, I was excited to see this particular one, as it presents a view of the interior of the home. This advertisement was also an exciting find because I previously had known that Marwell Hall was sold in 1959 to a John Blunt and then again in 1967 to John Knowles who turned the estate into a wonderful Zoological Park, making the home available for weddings and other functions. (See my blog about the history of Marwell Hall at http://sharn-genalogyjottings.blogspot.com ) however, I was unaware that Marwell was sold in 1963. I am quite interested in the history of this home and so now the hunt will assuredly be on to discover who purchased marwell Hall in 1963. One discovery always seems to lead to another search!

I must away. My latest issue of Country Life has just arrived and who knows......

How the Title of a Blog Knocked Down a Brick Wall...

2011-04-01T17:26:00.000-07:00

Blogging has proved more useful than I imagined.... or as the title was going to be....'Looking for my Married Couples.'

It never ceases to amaze me how genealogy puzzles can be solved in the most unexpected ways. I have discovered information unexpectedly, in books, been contacted by distant relatives from far off places with information to share and even parked beside a cemetery where I unexpectedly discovered the graves of my husband's ancestors. Recently, however, I resolved an eight year long search, simply by trying to think of a witty title for a blog post. I blasted my way through my brick wall just by thinking of a title! And if I do say so, I am rather pleased with myself! I realise that after writing blogs about lateral thinking, name variations and looking outside the box, I should have seen the solution to this puzzle earlier, but with so many branches on the tree, some things invariably are overlooked.

This story begins with an idea I had to write a blog about one of my most frustrating brick walls. It involved my great great great grandparents in Scotland whose names were FEARNS and COUPLES. While typing the title of the blog, I thought to be clever and make a play of the surname Couples. Unable to resist a pun, I wrote the title, 'Looking for my married Couples'. Clever, perhaps, but it didn't really convey what I was writing about so I simply added a slash and a name variation for effect, which came to mind on a whim. The title now read, 'Looking for my married Couples/Cupples. But then the historian came out in me and I felt compelled to stick to the truth. I had never actually searched for the surname Cupples so as I deleted the' /Cupples' from my title, I consoled myself by thinking, 'what a silly name Cupples is anyway. It doesn't even look like a proper name.' I began to write my blog, however something kept bothering me.

So I googled the name Cupples to see if anyone in the world did possess that surname. As an ever growing number of CUPPLES message boards appeared on my computer screen, a thought flashed into my head. 'What if my Mary Ann actually HAD been a Cupples and not a Couples? It was not a name variation I had ever thought of. I was simply trying to be clever with my blog title. Suddenly it seemed perfectly possible, despite all the documents I have spelling the name with an 'ou' that perhaps spelling was not one of my ancestors' strongest attributes. All thoughts of my blog flew out the window and, (checking the balance of my credit card), I headed immediately to Scotlands People to search for my Mary Ann Couples/Cupples.

From the marriage certificate of my Scottish great great grandparents, James Gibson and Mary Fearns, I knew that the names of Mary's parents were George Fearns and Mary Ann Couples, but I had never been able to find either a marriage record, or births for George Fearns or Mary Ann Couples, my three times great grandparents. The name Fearns appears as Ferns and Ferrans on other primary documents so I had searched several variations of the name Fearns, with no success. Possibly because the word couples is so well used in the English language, I hadn't resorted to variations of this surname in my searches previously. That was about to change.

My first search for Mary Ann Cupples in the Old Parish Records, Births & Christenings 1583-1854, on the Scotlands People website, came up with nothing. Recalling that people named Mary Ann sometimes use just one of the names, I searched again using Mary Cupples and this time my search resulted in one hit. The Mary Cupples that I found was born in Falkirk Stirling in 1821. My Mary Ann's daughter Mary Fearns was born in Falkirk, Stirling and I felt that this was more than coincidence. Mary Ann Cupples was born to Alexander Cupples and Elizabeth Shaw and I had to fight the immediate feeling of kinship that was growing in me until I had proof that I had found the right family.

Next I searched for a marriage for Mary Cupples guessing it to be around 1840-1845. This time there were three results between 1583 and 1854. I discovered that Mary Ann Cupples married Robert James Gray in 1836, George Farrin on June 3, 1841, and James McMory in 1846, all marriages occurring in Falkirk, Stirling in Scotland.

I became more convinced that this was my Mary Ann Couples/Cupples after I re-examined the death certificate of her daughter Mary. Mary's surname at the time of her death in 1913 was Gilmour and her parents names were given as George Ferran and Mary Ann Couples.

Using the new spelling of Cupples, I searched the LDS IGI and Ancestry.com where I connected with others who were researching the same ancestors, Alexander Cupples and Elizabeth Shaw. It became clear that not only had I found my Mary Ann, but I had collected a whole lot of extra family who descended from her children from her first marriage to Robert James Gray and her third marriage to Robert McMurray ( McMory on the marriage record) and who knew of my ancestor Mary Ann.

Alexander Cupples, my four times great grandfather, was born in County Down, Ireland in 1787 to Alexander (1744) and Agnes Cupples. Elizabeth Shaw, his wife, was born on November 3, 1786 in Cumbernauld, Dunbartonshire, Scotland to parents James Shaw and Elspeth Arthur. Alexander and Elizabeth were married in Cumbernauld March 3, 1809. They had the following children:

Agnes 1810 born Cumbernauld

Robert 1812 ditto

John 1814 ditto

James 1816 ditto

Mary Ann 1821 born Falkirk, Stirling

Jean 1826 Falkirk Stirling

Alexander 1828 Falkirk Stirling

I have now traced my Cupples family back to County Down in Ireland and found the eight siblings of my four times great grandfather, Alexander Cupples. I have researched their marriages and children and even followed the journey of my four times great uncle, Samuel Cupples to America, where he built a large Romanesque mansion in St Louis which is now on the American heritage register.

Thanks to my creative thinking for a blog title, I now have Scottish Arthur and Shaw ancestors to find, and I am looking forward with anticipation to learning much more about my fascinating Cupples family.

I set out to write a blog about brick walls and missing 'Couples' and instead I found myself adding a whole new branch of Cupples to my family tree. What amazing twists and turns I have encountered on this journey into family history.

I will endeavour to be more creative with all my blog titles from now on, which reminds me of another brick wall involving my Wrights.... hmm....'wrights and wrongs?'... 'all's wright?'.... there is a catchy blog title there somewhere....and perhaps some new family to discover.

One-Lovely-Blog-Award

2011-03-29T01:39:00.000-07:00

Why awards for Blogs are appreciated.....

The greatest compliment for a writer, is to have readers appreciate and enjoy what is written. I have two blogs - one is for stories about my own ancestors and the other is filled with tips for other family history researchers, interesting discoveries and anything else related to genealogy.

When Kay Sturgeon, of the Blog 'Gol Gol Girl,' recently nominated me for the One-Lovely-Blog-Award, I felt very honoured. Thankyou Kay, for making this particular writer, feel appreciated.

There are three conditions to be met in order to receive this award, which are as follows:

1. Acknowledge the award in a post on your blog.

2. Nominate 15 other blogs which you think are lovely enough to deserve this award.

3. Contact each person you have nominated, to inform them that they have been nominated.

This may seem to be a task to some, however it is a great way to discover new blogs and I have enjoyed reading what others have to contribute to the wonderful world of genealogy and blogging.

These are the blogs which I have nominated.

Joyous Tomorrows

Hummer's Delight

Random Meanderings

'Over thy dead body'

A Brit in the Boonies

A Little Bit of Irish

Small-Leaved Shamrock

Cemetery Curiosities

Anglo-Celtic Connections

Homestead Origins

'Dear Zakaria'

Extra Extra Read All About It!

[Family] History is the lie comm....

Ancestor Soup

Adventures in Genealogy

Thankyou, once again, Kay, for the nomination.

Church Kneelers : a source of local and family history.

2011-03-14T20:06:00.000-07:00

Church Kneelers - an overlooked source of local and family history?

How often have you visited a church and admired the architecture, beautiful stained glass windows or perhaps artworks within? If you are a family historian, then your journey will have taken you to many churches, possibly in pursuit of a grave or just a glimpse of where an ancestor was married. Have you, however, taken much notice of the church kneelers that may be there?

I have a particular interest in church history as my great great grandfather, John Morrison was quite a reknowned builder of churches in the Gothic style of architecture, in Sydney in the late 1800's.

It is always exciting for a family historian to see a photograph of the church where his or her parents, grandparents or great great great grandparents were married. There is a real sense of connection with ancestors when I see a concrete connection, the actual church where a forebears was married or baptised, in some cases, centuries ago. I always spend some time researching the history of the churches connected to my ancestors, where they were christened or married and in some instances, where they were were ministers, choirmasters and members of the congregation. My husband has an entire chapel in Kent dedicated to a female ancestor by her affluent husband. There are so many ways in which churches and their records are an important resource. Parish record, a well known source of valuable information, provide dates for baptisms, marriages, deaths and often the names and dwelling place of a further generation. Churches can tell us much about the local communities in which our forebears lived and about their lives as well. My own ancestors have been married in modest timber or stone churches in rural farming communities, chapels and larger imposing churches and churches of many denominations. There is nothing so moving as standing in a church where a forebear was once christened or married. Until recently, there was something of great relevance within these churches, which I had overlooked: Church Kneelers.

Until I read an article in a recent Country Life magazine, I had never given much thought to church kneelers, ( the pads or cushions on which one kneels in prayer ), as a source of local, family history. Kneelers have been used in many churches for centuries and many are hand woven, cross stich, long stich or tapestry, works of religious and folk art. There has been a move in the UK to form a register of church kneelers with photographs of them to be kept as a record of their important role in church and local histories. In many churches, volunteers are recording the local and family history of the church community in the new cross stitch or tapestry kneelers being sewn to replace old tired ones. Church kneelers, as well as depicting religious themes, can be a valuable source of local information which contain names, dates, local events, family or royal crests, village buildings, village and rural life, dates and information about battles fought and heroic heroic deeds performed. Some are dedications to individuals or groups or are dedicated to deceased family or community members. Kneelers may be a rich source of information unable to be found elsewhere. In some churches, the kneeler covers are of a religious theme, depicting well known Biblical stories such as Noah's Ark, however in a significant number of church communities where kneelers are used, the pictorial narratives which the kneelers provide, may go back to ancestors in the time of William the Conqueror.

My daughter was married two years ago in a Naval Chapel overlooking Sydney Harbour. I recall admiring the kneeling cushions, which were displayed on the pews, when we visited the Chapel prior to the wedding. Beyond the fact that the colourful display of bright kneelers greatly enhanced the beautiful interior of this 1960's chapel, I took little notice of their designs. (Wedding preparations tend to preoccupy everyone to the exclusion of noticing details of even the most colourful church kneelers).

Since reading about kneelers in the magazine article, I have looked into the significance of the chapel kneelers in the Naval Chapel. The beautiful tapestry covers were lovingly made by wives, mothers and daughters of Naval Officers. Onto each kneeler cover these women have woven in coloured cross stitch, the names and badges of ships of the Royal Australian Navy. These wonderful kneeler cushions are a pictorial narrative of Australian naval history and if I have another opportunity to visit the chapel, I will certainly soak up some of that history more attentively.

My own Kneeler Cushion

Before I was married, my grandmother gave me a small gold satin cushion. She explained that it had been used by several generations of women in her family in Northern Ireland and by herself, to kneel on as part of their marriage ceremonies. The cushion was hand sewn and adorned with patterns of beautiful beading. Not all churches make use of kneelers and since my own church where I was married was quite new and had abandoned the tradition of using kneelers for even for ceremonial purposes, I decided to follow my family tradition and use my grandmother's Irish kneeler as part of my wedding. My kneeler doesn't tell a story through a picture woven into its cover, nor are there names or dates embroidered on it but it is a significant part of my own family history and of church practice. I now plan to have the names and dates of marriage of the women in my family who knelt on this beautiful kneeler, embroidered on it. Unfortunately at the time of my eldest daughter's marriage I had not thought of using my kneeler but will most likely add her name to it anyway along with those of her sisters who are now very excited at having a family kneeler to use at their weddings. My kneeler will show the following:

Sarah Jane Clarke and Joseph Shaw Thompson: 1856

Sarah Thompson and Hugh Eston White: 1896

Jemima Florence White and Colin Hamilton MacDade: 1930

I will add myself, a MacDade and my daughters (who coincidentally, like their great grandmother have the surname White). The kneeler is packed away right now but as soon as I unpack it I will add a photograph of it to this blog post.

From the article which I read in the December, 29 Issue of Country Life I have learned that in England, St Edmund Church in Southwold possesses more than 300 beautiful kneelers and other churches which are worth visiting for their wonderful kneelers are, St Bartholemew, Chipping, Lancashire and St Andrew's. Much Hadham, Hertfordshire.[1]

As for myself, I will be paying much more attention to church kneelers as a wealth of history both local and family. For information on how to help register, repair or make church kneelers, visit the website below. Kits and books on how to make kneelers can be purchased also, if you are interested in making your own kneeler or your church needs new ones. These are easily found by googling 'Church Kneeler Kits.'

[1] http://www.parishkneelers.co.uk/

Two of the kneelers in the Naval Chapel

Photograph of the Naval Chapel taken from the cover of the RAN Chapel information booklet.

Photographs of the kneelers taken by R White.

A Sweet Angel

2011-02-17T17:42:00.000-08:00

A Sweet Angel

This grave does not relate to my own family, however this beautiful headstone, which I discovered whilst on holidays recently in the Cooroy cemetery in Queensland moved me. I felt quite sad for the family of the young child who had died. Her name was Gwendoline ( the rest of the writing is difficult to read but it looks like Gwendoline Anne Larsel?) and she died on the 24th June in 1925 aged only 3 1/2 years. She must have been very much loved. I couldn't resist taking photographs of the sweet angel headstone.

Friday Family Finds..

2011-02-10T17:56:00.000-08:00

Today is Friday and the end of the week is drawing near. A thought occured to me this morning (which is quite something given that I am tired by this part of the week!). I have never taken the time to examine at the end of each week just what discoveries I have made. My family tree has evolved over many years without any account of exactly when I found each of the ancestors. I do have records of all of my sources but many are not dated and so do not remind me of when I discovered them. I feel that it would be interesting to keep an account of my weekly 'finds'. My challenge to myself is to sit down each Friday and to take note of at least three major things I have achieved for that week.

This is the first account of my weekly journey in Family History. These are some discoveries I made in the week beginning Monday 7 february, 2011.

1. I discovered the above photograph of my great great grandfather, Edward Joseph Weston, on Ancestry.com, on the tree of a cousin I have never met. I have never seen a picture of my g g grandfather Edward Joseph before, however the resemblance to my maternal grandmother is striking. Edward arrived in Maryborough in 1870, as a child, accompanying his mother Mary Ann (Turner) on board the ship 'Flying Cloud'. I have been researching my Weston family for a long time and before this week, Edward Joseph was a name on my tree. Seeing this picture of him has really made him feel like a real person. This was a special find as my mother and grandmother lost all of their family photographs in a house fire when my mother was a teenager. Seeing Edward Joseph almost took my breath away. A great 'find' to take note of on this Friday. Now I would like to find out how the photograph got torn in half. I hope he didn't upset g g g grandma!

2. After writing a blog recently, about an ancestor of my husband, (about whom I found fabulous information, in a book purchased in a secondhand bookstore), I googled the ancestor's name, Charles of Ord. I had, of course googled him in previous years, but not since the Trove ( digitalised Australian newspapers) site came online. On the very first page I discovered a news article from the Sydney Morning Herald dated 22 March 1871, which informed me that Margaret Anne Macdonald, daughter of the late Charles Macdonald of Ord, Skye, Scotland, was married at the residence of the Presbyterian minister at Coonamble, NSW, Australia. She married a Godfrey Bosville MacKinnon on the 2 March, 1871.

Margaret Anne was the half sister of my husband's g g grandfather, Mathew MacDonald ( the family in Australia use a capital 'D' in MacDonald) and we had never known that she also had immigrated to Australia. Mathew was born in 1812 to Charles of Ord and mother unknown (as yet). Margaret Anne was born in 1839 to a different mother, Anne MacLeod. Mathew had no contact with his family after arriving in Australia in 1837 with his wife Mary MacPherson, who had been the nanny to Mathew's half siblings. From letters to Mathew in his late 80's it is clear that he had not known his half sister, born two years after he left the Isle of Skye in Scotland, was also living in the country that he had made his home. An exciting 'find' and one has already set me on the trail of Margaret Anne's descendants here in Australia.

3. I found a new McDade/Gibson relative in Queensland this week through my blog http://www.sharn-genealogyjottings.blogspot.com/ . A photograph of my great grandmother, Elizabeth (Gibson) McDade ( pictured right), had caught her eye and she recalled seeing a similar picture in her mother's collection of family photographs and wondered whether we were connected. It turns out that we are related, and just today organised a three way phone call to have a chat about our ancestors. I am very excited as I always love to find new relatives and to exchange stories.

A Fortunate Find: An Ancestor in a Bookstore.

2011-02-06T19:05:00.000-08:00

Of Surprise: 'O wonderful, wonderful and most wonderful!' William Shakespeare

Whilst on holiday in Queensland recently, I visited the town of Eumundi, inland from Noosa, which is famous amongst tourist and locals alike, for its Markets. I chose to visit on a day when the market place was closed as Eumundi is a pretty little town when quiet and boasts a wonderful art gallery, some scrumptious places to eat and best of all a huge Berkleow Bookstore, situated in an a heritage building. This is a store which carries new and secondhand books of all kinds and I had plans for an afternoon of browsing.

Fortunately my husband shares my passion for books and whilst he browsed the architecture, art and gardening sections of the store, I headed straight for the history and local history area. It wasn't long before my pile of 'must haves' began to grow. I discovered a book about the history of the Kenmore Presbyterian Church which I had attended in Brisbane as a teenager and in which I was married; a book about the English Lakes District written by William Wordsworth, for a friend (whose ancestor was Wordsworth's housekeeper and who had a child whose paternity is as yet unknown.. so you can imagine there interesting speculation in the family), and a copy of Cicero's speech in his famous first trial, for my Roman history obsessed son (who may have to brush up on his Latin since that is the language in which the book is written... may I remind you that it is the thought that counts!).

In the Scottish, Irish and Welsh section of the store, a small blue cover attracted my attention and I took down from the shelf a book entitled 'Skye The Island and its Legends'. Closer inspection revealed that the book was written by a lady named Otta F. Swire, who was described, on the inside of the front cover of the dust jacket, as coming ' from an old Skye family and a resident of Skye.' The book is a second edition, published in 1961. There is a foreword which includes the following words by the author who wrote, ' I am among those who love Skye and so I want to write for my children some of the old Skye stories which I heard from my mother and many of which she, in turn, heard from a great aunt who was born over 160 years ago on 18 April, 1799. That they may be of interest to all, I have threaded these stories, as well as many which are better known, on the roads of Skye, as on a necklace.'

And if those words, which sang lyrically to me, were not enough to entice me into a purchase, the fact that my husband's great great grandfather, Mathew MacDonald had set sail from the Isle of Skye, bound for NSW, Australia, in 1837, made it a certainty that the little book of stories about Skye travelled home with me to Sydney. I admit that I was also beguiled by the handwritten inscription inside the book which said, ' To Jenny, A'm askin yi to dance ken?, Mervyn.'

I did not read this book while I was away, because I had joined the local Sunshine Coast libraries and had ambitiously borrowed far too many books about local history to possibly read in the time available to me. Even after I returned home I did not have the time to look at the book but rather placed it behind the glass doors of my bookshelves saving it for a spare moment when I could peruse it.

I cannot describe the surprise I received, when I finally did take the small hardcover copy of 'Skye, The Island and its Legends' from the shelf. I chose a moment in which I would not be disturbed and seated myself comfortably with a cup of tea to look at it. As I scanned the index I was not surprised to see the name MacDonald there, since the clans of this well known Scottish family trace back to Lord John of the Isles and the McKenneth Kings before him. One would expect a mention about the MacDonalds, McLeods and several other highland families in such a book. What almost made me drop my teacup, was the name Charles of Ord.

Charles MacDonald, of Ord, was my husband David's paternal great great great grandfather and the father of Mathew MacDonald, and a MacDonald about whom we had little information. In this little book, purchased completely unaware that it contained any connection to family, I discovered five pages dedicated to stories about Charles MacDonald of Ord and his grandfather Alexander MacDonald of Drimindarach. Mathew's father Charles MacDonald, is mentioned at length in another book entitled 'A Summer in Skye' written by Alexander Smith, a Scottish writer and poet who travelled throughout the Isle, staying frequently at Ord House with Mathew's father, to whom the Smith referred as M'Laird and M'Ian. Alexander Smith married, Flora MacDonald daughter of Charles of Ord at Ord house in 1857. Flora was the half sister of Mathew and was so named, for her famous relative, Flora MacDonald who helped Bonnie Prince Charlie.

Otta F Swire mentions the novel 'A Summer in Skye' in her own book. Whilst we, as a family, have quite a reasonable amount of historical information regarding the MacDonalds of Sleat, the fascinating oral narratives which this author and native of the Isle of Skye has added to our knowledge about the MacDonalds, is quite original and very exciting. We had already known that Alexander MacDonald, an earlier progenitor of the clan, and grandfather of Charles of Ord, had been involved in the uprising of 1745, in support of Bonnie Prince Charlie, and subsequently his lands had been forfeited by the Crown. The tale of Alexander using a sledge hammer to break in the great doors of Carlisle Castle is well documented, however, that Alexander had 'taken to the hills' as an outlaw of the crown where he married, that his son had been born in the hills and that his baptism had been performed there by a priest who risked his life to do so was something that we had not read in history books and information which we greatly appreciated.

The most fascinating stories related to my husband's MacDonald ancestor, Charles MacDonald of Ord. Otta F Swire claims that he was called 'Old Ord'. We knew that Charles had fought for the Crown in the West Indies, Ireland and at the battle of Waterloo, ironically two generations after his grandfather had lost his lands after he stood against the Crown. What was particularly interesting to us, however, was this author's claim that my husband's g g g grandfather, Charles real 'title to fame in Skye .. is chiefly the Ord Palm.'

Pictured above right, is Ord House where Charles of Ord lived and where Mathew MacDonald met his sweetheart Mary McPherson before they emigrated to Australia as part of the Dunmore Lang immigration scheme. Today the house is a B & B and one day we hope to stay in this ancestral home for a holiday on the Isle of Skye.

This is the anecdote that Otta F Swire tells about my husband's ancestor. It is a simple story, but one which has completely fascinated us and one which was never passed down to us because Mathew had fallen out of favour with his father Charles of Ord, over his marriage ( Mary McPherson was the nanny to Mathew's half siblings and most likely was considered an unsuitable wife). After after arriving in Australia in 1837, sadly, Mathew had no further contact with his father, so it was very exciting to discover this wonderful story.

'A man named Murdo, who had worked for him [Charles of Ord] for many years, emigrated to New Zealand with his family in 1863. On arrival there he collected a number of seeds of a palm which he particularly admired, called, I am told, the Cabbage tree ( it is not the Cabbage Palm of South America) and sent them to 'Old Ord'. Some of these seeds were planted in the old walled garden at Ord and some were sent to the Botanical Gardens at Kew. Those sent to Kew died from frost but two of those planted at Ord had luck in three mild winters while young and they flourished and are still to be seen, being, as far as is known, the only specimens ever grown in the open in Britain.They are now [1961] at eighty years old, well grown trees about fifteen to twenty feet high. Every seventh year they flower and become a mass of deep creamy blossom, so heavily scented that not only the whole garden but the house some little distance away appears temporarily transported to the tropics'....

We found the following piece of information imparted by author Otta F Swire, about Charles of Ord, most interesting.

'Old Ord is said to have possessed the first fixed bath (with hot and cold running water) in Skye; the old bath made of lead and with right-angle corners like a box, which remained in use until 1950 was well worth a visit. But apart from Ord House, that corner of Skye seems to have been very backward in Old Ord's day. 'Black' kitchens were still usual, and his eldest son, {Charles' eldest son] who had a great dislike of women with thick ankles, used, if he met any while riding in the district, to order them off the road.'

We believe that although Mathew was the eldest son of Charles, that the son referred to may not have been Mathew, but rather, Alexander, the first son of Charles' marriage to Anne McLeod of Gesto in 1828. Mathew was born in about 1812 and his mother's name is unknown to us. Through letters to Mathew in his very old age from his half brother, Keith Norman MacDonald, a son of Charles of Ord and Anne McLeod, we discovered that Mathew's mother was buried near Charles but no mention was made unfortunately of her name.

Right is pictured Mathew MacDonald [seated] and Mary MacDonald (McPherson) [seated] and their children at his farm 'Temple Hill' near Crookwell. The farm is still in the MacDonald family today.

Ancestor Approved Award

2011-02-04T16:30:00.001-08:00

I would like to express my appreciation for the generous nomination put forward for the Ancestor Approved Award, by Lisa Wallen Logsden. This award was initiated by Leslie Ann Ballou as a way of recognising the research and effort that is the backbone of genealogical blogging. Thankyou for the nomination. It is much appreciated to know that others take the time to enjoy what one writes about the lives of ancestors and their stories.

As a recipient of this award I must undertake to write ten things which surprise, humble and enlighten me in the course of my genealogical research and I will also enjoy passing on this award to ten genealogy bloggers whose anecdotes I have enjoyed reading.

Surprised: This one is easy as I am constantly surprised and amazed by many things on my journey in family history research.

1. I am surprised by the generosity of everyone involved in family history research. The time they give freely, the information they are only too happy to share and the friendliness of everyone is amazing.

2. I have been quite surprised by many of my discoveries. Surname variations has been a source of intriguing surprise to me, as I researched my family tree. The varied range of reasons for surname changes has been surprising, amusing and informative.

3. Thinking that I was a late generation Australian, I was extremely surprised to discover that I had convict roots, and even more astonished to find myself putting five convict ancestors on my tree.

4. I have been surprised by my new passionate interest in world history, which arose from connecting forebears to the historical times in which they lived. The desire to understand how and where they lived, what they did for a living and why they lived where they did or immigrated has made me so much more informed and connected to, not only my own history but to history itself. Alfred the Great suddenly becomes much more of a 'real' character when one discovers that he is a direct ancestor of your husband. The highland clearances in Scotland are substantially more relevant when one has a great great grandfather who arrived in Australia as a result of this huge movement of people to the other side of the world.

5. I have been very much surprised, amused ( and occasionally shocked) when family stories which have been handed down through generations of family unquestioned, turn out to be elaborate fabrications, invented to cover a multitude of sins, crimes and misdemeanors. Some of these discoveries, surprisingly make the best topics to write about.

Enlightened: My research has inevitably enlightened me in many ways.

6. I have developed a greater capacity for reasoning and logical thinking, necessary when ciphering through the many or few clues left behind by ancestors, in order to find and identify them.

7. I have learned to be patient and thorough in my research. There is no such thing as an 'instant' family tree.

8. Enlightenment comes with learning. I have been fortunate to have learned so much about people, both ordinary and extraordinary, about how people lived and worked throughout different historical periods,. I have learned how to decipher old handwriting and about naming patterns in different cultures. I have been educated in how to use libraries and archives, Most satisfyingly.. I have finally learned that even the most practised archivist can also rewind the micro-fiche machine the wrong way! It is not just me.

Humbled: researching my family history and writing bout my journey and my ancestors' many and varied stories has definitely made me feel more humbled.

9. I have been humbled by the beautiful comments left by complete strangers who have taken the time to read my blogs. Not only does this feedback encourage me to keep going, but I am constantly amazed at the emotions that other feel about the stories of my ancestors. I am truly humbled and touched by this generosity on the part of others.

10. I have been absolutely humbled by the lives of my ancestors themselves. Many of their stories involve tremendous courage, hardship, sadness, determination, perseverance, positivity and selflessness. Nothing happens in my life, that I cannot look to a forebear to for encouragement, strength or resolve. I believe that one needs to look backwards in order to move forward and in looking backward to my ancestors and through telling their stories I could not possibly feel other than humbled and unpretentious.

The blogs which I have nominated to receive this award are as follows:

A Light that Shines Again

Candle in the Window

All in the family

Aussiemandas

The Tree of Me

Heritage Happens

"Generations

The Turning of Generations

The Professional Descendant

ABT UNK

Finding Ancestors in Unexpected places

2011-02-02T20:10:00.000-08:00

How the 2011 Queensland Flood led me to my Ancestors

I recently spent a month in my home state of Queensland, staying on the Sunshine Coast, north of the capital city of Brisbane. 2010 was an extrememly wet year for Queensland, and January, 2011 was even wetter with heavy rainfall which resulted in flooding in over 75% of the state. I had a number of family members personally affected by these devastating floods which made worldwide news. I watched, as the suburb I grew up in called Jindalee, once again suffered dreadfully as it had done when I lived there in the 1974 floods.

Of course, all of this rain did not make for a great beach holiday and from our balcony on the beachfront in Mooloolaba, we watched the usually calm north facing beach forced to bear the brunt of huge waves,and murky brown water filled with debris washed out from flooded rivers from as far south as the Brisbane river.

By now, you might be wondering how a flood helped me to find ancestors. I have mentioned in previous blogs that a family anecdote states that a great grandfather of mine was washed out to sea at Ballina in northern NSW in 1930, however do not get your hopes up - he did not wash up on the beach at Mooloolaba in 2011. When the flood water finally subsided from some of the roads around us, but we were still cut off from Brisbane and the south of the Sunshine Coast, my husband and I ventured on a drive north to visit the grave of my great great grandparents, John and Hannah Morrison, in the town of Cooroy. We had cleaned the headstone the previous year whilst on holidays and were eager to see how it looked after a year.

Finding many roads still cut off by flood water, we ended up in a small town called Pomona north west of Cooroy and about 30 minutes drive from Noosa Heads. There to our surprise, we discovered the Noosa Musuem and out of curiosity we decided to have a look inside.

There was one lady on duty in the Museum, which is housed in the original old Noosa Council Chambers, which amazingly operated as such until the 1980's. The museum's holdings appeared extensive and included a wonderful and precious room dedicated to the native people of the area, called the Gubi Gubi people (often mistakenly called Kabi Kabi).

The heritage building which now houses an amazing exhibition of the past,is pictured at the top of this page on the brochure for the Noosa Museum.

As we browsed through the rooms holding a variety of displays, I found a small display of material relating to Cooroy. I learned that the town of Cooroy, where my great great grandparents were pioneers, was named after Mount Cooroy, originally spelled Coorooey which was derived from the aboriginal word kurui meaning possum. As I read more about the history of the nearby town of Cooroy, a name in the writing below a photograph lept out at me. It was Morrison. I held my breath as I gazed on the first photograph I have ever seen of my great grandmother and her sisters, standing on the front verandah of the private hospital which they operated at 50 Maple Street, Cooroy. It is also the first time that any of my family have seen a picture of the hospital itself.

Although we had visited the Cooroy Noosa Genealogical Society, we had found this most precious image of our family in the tiny town of Pomona simply by accident. Flood water had determined our journey that day and had we not been forced to take this detour, I might never have found this treasured photograph. This is the only photograph of any of the Morrison family and I simply cannot believe my good fortune.

Hearing my shrieks of excitement the lady in charge of the museum came running ( I am certain, intent on quietening me). When she learned of my discovery, she also became very excited and proceeded to drag large folders of photographs out of a storeroom. We sat down, the three of us, and poured through each huge folder. This time it was the kind lady in the museum who shrieked as she discovered another photograph of the hospital, showing its location in the town. I had known about the hospital run by the Nurses Morrison and Matron Morrison (my great aunt) which was officially called St Margaret's hospital. Amongst locals, the hospital was affectionately called Matron Morrison's hospital.

In another folder, filled with loose papers, I discovered a story written by a Cooroy resident reminiscing about Matron Morrison. It seems that the hospital had a row of mature date palms growing at the side of the building which attracted bats in large numbers. The matron's kindness, which was well known, did not extend to bats, which she detested according to the narrator of the story, as she used to request that several of the town's male residents 'shoo' the noisy bats away or to just'shoot the pests'. Her reasoning was always that they disturbed her patients!

In a 2010 blog, I had mentioned that my great great grandfather, John Morrison had been an owner of the butter factory in Cooroy. Below is the photograph which I took several years ago of the butter factory, which was converted into an arts centre in 2010.

When I mentioned the butter factory and the picture I had taken, a great smile broke over the face of my new friend who worked voluntarily in the museum. 'You won't have seen a picture of the original factory, then?' she aked.

She disappeared into her back room of surprises, and reappeared with yet another huge folder. From it she produced proudly, the photograph below, below right, of the first timber butter factory built in Cooroy in 1910, which was replaced by the brick factory in my photograph, in 1930. The factory which my great great grandfather was involved with was the earlier timber one and I now have a copy of that picture as well, which is shown below.

P.S. You might be pleased to know thatwe did finally make it to Cooroy cemetery, where we found the headstone of my great great grandparents, pioneers of Cooroy, John and Hannah Morrison, in as good condition as we had left it the previous year ( pictured below right).

Tuesday Tip: Please put great grandpa back on the correct tree....

2010-12-12T17:23:00.000-08:00

Some years ago I traced my husband's MacDonald ancestors on the Isle of Skye back to the McKenneth Kings. An older family member had travelled to Scotland many years before and had begun the search for the MacDonald ancestry and I continued her well researched work. My husband, David, is also related to the Stewart Kings, through a second marriage of his ancestor John, Lord of the Isles and this lineage has been thoroughly researched, well documented and supported through Burke's Peerage. Imagine my horror, to discover on Ancestry.com no less than nine family trees tracing branches of our Mathew MacDonald's family, all with an identical mistake. My husband's great grandfather, Mathew MacDonald ( seated in the photograph above) was the son of Charles MacDonald of Ord, the 13th progenitor of the Clanranald branch of MacDonalds. His mother remains unknown to us but his paternity is well documented through letters from Scotland from his half brother, Keith Norman MacDonald, a doctor and well known composer of Scottish reels and Jigs in the late1800's. Mathew's father, Charles MacDonald of Ord, married Anne McLeod of Gesto in 1828, some 18 years after Matthew's birth. Nine out of ten trees on Ancestry.com tracing the ancestors of Mathew MacDonald, have Mathew's step-mother, Anne as his mother.

The owners of these trees put the wrong mother on Mathew's tree, and they have also gone to a great deal of trouble to trace her lineage, and although extremely interesting, it does not belong on this family tree. I contacted the owners of the trees, and so far have heard from only one, who was happy that I had corrected their mistake. Mathew MacDonald does not descend from the McLeod's of Gesto, as these trees suggest. I am hoping that through this blog, someone might see that this information is incorrect, and straighten out the maternal branch of my husband's great grandfather's tree. Pictured right is Charles macdonald, son of Mathew and grandson of Charles of Ord with his wife Mary Maguire and children.

Ancestry.com is an excellent source of reference for family historians however, with regard to ancestry Trees, extreme caution needs to be employed before copying information from unsourced trees. Never copy anything unsourced!! Contact the owner of a tree and ask where the information came from. Check the information yourself to verify its source and validity. Family anecdotes, though delightfully entertaining, can be notoriously misleading and need to be thoroughly researched and verified. I was told by several MacDonald aunts, that Mathew MacDonald had sailed to Australia on a ship named 'The Mary Jane' and that my husband's grandmother ( Mary Jane) was named after the ship. I spent quite a lot of time searching for the wrong ship! Mathew and his wife Mary McPherson, in fact, arrived on board the 'William Nicol' as part of the Dunmore Lang emigration scheme. Persistence, patience and accuracy is important when researching the family tree. Research is slow, there is no changing the fact, but accuracy is rewarding.

I will soon be posting the fascinating ancestry of Mathew MacDonald on my family blog site http://www.sharn-genealogyjottings.blogspot.com/

'A photograph is not only an image,... an interpretation of the real; it is also a trace...' Susan Sontag 1977

2010-12-06T20:16:00.000-08:00

Sharing family photographs

I sent the Birthday Card pictured right, to my sister in August this year. I loved the cute photograph of the twins. What a surprise I received when I collected my October issue of Family Tree, to find the very same photograph, reversed, and proudly adorning the cover of the magazine!

I was hoping that I would find out who the little twin girls were, however, the inside cover simply said: 'Twin girls in London, enjoying a day in the park on their push scooters.'

Aside from my finding this to be an amazing coincidence, I was reminded of how many family photographs end up in places other than the possession of the family. Too often I have found other people's family photos, their precious memories, in antique and second hand stores. Many of them have no writing on the back so are impossible to identify. Several years ago I found a family's entire collection of photographs, which had been sold as part of a deceased state, in a second hand store. The family's surname was Fenton which is a name in my husband's family. I would have loved to have 'saved' this collection to keep it together, however there was a hefty price tag attached to each of the the pictures and so, sadly, they remained in the store. In this instance, hundreds of family snapshots have been lost to future generations because they were not passed on to someone in the family. Perhaps there was no one to leave them to, but if they had been shared with other family members, their fate may have been otherwise. For those of us who partake in the satisfying quest for our ancestors, and for everyone for whom the internet has made the sharing of family photographs much easier, the loss of these family treasures becomes less likely.

Last week, I discovered a photograph of my great great grandfather, John Gottlieb Nargar (Nerger) on a tree on Ancestry.com. I had never seen an image of him before and so of course was most excited. I had also never met the relative who owns the photograph so would have been unlikely to have ever known what great great grandfather John Gottlieb looked like if the picture hadn't been generously shared on this genealogy website.

So often, in families, one member inherits a collection of old family photographs and unless there are copies made and shared amongst other famly members, it is more than likely that several generations later, they will be difficult to find or lost forever, as in the case of the Fenton family's photos, which ended up for sale, in a second hand store. I have been extremely fortunate in that most relatives whom I have discovered through tracing my family tree, have been mst generous in sharing copies of family photographs with me. I am happy to share my own phtographs, of course. It is surely every genealogist's dream to inherit the family history in photographic images, however it is important to share family portraits to ensure their longevity.

I was approached recently, by the Centenary Suburbs Historical Society in Brisbane, Queensland with a request to share with them, photographs of my great grandparents, Hugh and Sarah White whose farm 'Carrig-Na-Gule' was situated at Seventeen Mile Rocks. Often the society conducts talks and displays about the pioneers of this area and when a member found my family photographs on my blog, she asked if I would be happy to share some of the images of the past with them. The photograph on the right, taken from the front verandah of the home on "Carrig-Na-Gule' ( named after the flax farm which the family owned in County Tyrone, Ireland), shows a shed which the Centenary Suburbs Historical society believe once housed a biplane glider in which a Thomas McLeod made the first observed flight in a ' heavier than air' machine in Queensland.

Even though this attempt at flight, which is pictured below right, took place prior to my great grandparents purchase of the property, I was thrilled to find an invitation to the 100th anniversary of this event in my mailbox. Not only will a plaque be unveiled on the very land that my ancestors owned but the photograph at the top of the invitation shows my great grandfather's farmland at Seventeen Mile Rocks. The picture was taken when the previous owners of the land, the Belz family lived there but that takes nothing away from the excitement of seeing an image of the land which my family farmed. below left is a photograph of Hugh and Sarah White on their farm Carrig-Na-Gule at Seventeen Mile Rocks.

For a number of years, I have been collecting old photographs of 'lost' families and in particular 'lost' children. Some, I have managed to reunite happily with family members who are thrilled to have never before seen images of ancestors. Others have been safely placed in an acid free photograph album, patiently waiting for me to find the time to trace their family history.

'Finding' the child in the photograph on the right, is my next project. The baby pictured, is 1 year old Mary or May Theodora Marsh. The portrait was taken in Southampton, England, so I will begin by searching birth and census records to find her. The photograph was found in NSW so she possibly had relatives in Australia to whom the picture was sent.

Pictured below, are some of my 'lost children' waiting for homes. Perhaps someone will recognise an ancestor or a relative and contact me.

Right is Mary (May)
Theodora marsh 1 yr.

Eugene Percy

Mary Ann Holyland

'Presented to Mr James Boyd by the teacher on the Emigrant Ship Australia..."

2010-11-22T20:48:00.000-08:00

How I 'found' James Boyd in a Second Hand Book Store

I almost overlooked the little book entitled "History of England', as it sat on the dusty shelf of a second hand book store. With a faded dark green cover, it sat, tucked in between the large colourful picture books in the 'British Isles' section of the store. Because it appeared to be very old, it aroused my curiosity at once. As soon as I opened the front cover, I realised that I had discovered a treasure. Written in pencil in beautiful flourishing handwriting, were the following words:

" Presented to Mr James Boyd by the Teacher on board the Emigrant Ship Australia as a small token of esteem and as a testimonial of his good conduct on board the ship, and also in appreciation of his amicable character and .... and obliging disposition .... Signature .... June 11th 1853."

On the opposite inside cover page, had been written at at a later date, in blue ink, "To Connie Boyd From Mother." I knew at once that I had to buy the book and could hardly believe that the price was only $5.50. It seemed to be true that 'what is one man's rubbish is another man's treasure.

It happened that whoever had priced the small history book had not seen the transcription inside it, so, instead of placing it amongst the rare books, had accidentally put it in the general part of the book store. I had found a bargain and this book is most surely one of my most treasured purchases. The book entitled, 'History of England' was an Educational Book, Historical Series No. 1, published in London in 1852 by The Society for promoting Christian Knowledge. In the book, illustrating the text, are fold out maps. Especially interesting, is a fold out Royal family history beginning with King John, father of Henry 1 (pictured below left).

Most of the pages of the small book are yellowed and obviously well read. The musty smell that comes with age, makes me love this book even more. Intrigued by the inscription written inside the front cover of the book, I set out at once to discover who James Boyd was, and to learn something of his life. As I began my search for the original owner of my book, I wondered how this special treasure that had been thoughtfully presented to young James on his arrival in Australia, had ended up on a shelf in a book store rather than being cherished by a family.

My first task was to find a passenger list for the ship Australia. I discovered that this ship had arrived in Sydney from England, on June 11, 1853, the same date on which the inscription was written in the book. At the NSW State Library, I found the passenger list for the ship Australia. On the list were the Boyd family from Templecrone, County Donegal in Ireland. Adam Boyd ( born in County Donegal) aged 43 and his wife Mary aged 41 (born in County Leitrim) travelled to Australia with their nine children, Elizabeth 22, Mary Jane 20, James 19, Margaret 17, William 15, Anne 13, Robert 11, Adam 9 and Susan, 7 years. The passenger list stated that Adam Boyd, senior, was an agricultural labourer. Now, some years later, Ancestry.com has put the Unassisted NSW Passenger List 1828-1898 online and this record can be found on this site. http://www.ancestry.com/

I was very excited to have found James and his family and, importantly, to have verified the validity of the message in the front cover of the book. I had established from the passenger list that James Boyd, owner of the book I had purchased, was born in Templecrone, County Donegal, Ireland, in about 1834. I also knew the approximate date of birth for his parents, Adam and Mary, and his 8 siblings from the passenger list. The next step was to discover where the Boyd family had settled in Australia. Since I knew that the family had arrived in Sydney, I searched the NSW electoral rolls. On the NSW Australian Historical Electoral Rolls 1842-1864, I found Adam Boyd living in the Kiama area at Broughton Vale (years 1855-6).

The 1872 Broughton's Creek Post office Directory ( pictured right) lists the following entries for members of the Boyd family: Adam Boyd - Farmer, Broughton Vale, Boroughton's Creek; Hugh - Farmer, Jasper's Mount, Broughton's Creek; Daniel Boyd- Farmer, Jasper's Mount, Brouhgton's Creek; James Boyd- Farmer, Broughton's Vale. Broughton's Creek; Robert Boyd- Farmer, Broughton's Creek; Robert H - Farmer, Broughton's Creek; William - Farmer, Broughton's Creek.

A search of the NSW Historical Births Deaths and Marriages http://www.bdm.nsw.gov.au found the deaths of James parents, Adam and Mary Boyd in 1879 and 1875 respectively. A death notice in the Sydney Morning Herald ( courtesy of Trove) also reported that Mary died on "October 5, 1875, at her residence, Broughton Vale, the beloved wife of Adam Boyd, Esq, JP, and Mayor of Broughton Vale, late of County Leitrim, Ireland, aged 70 years". A death certificate revealed that Mary Boyd was born Mary Whitten, in about 1812 to parents, William Whitten and Elizabeth Stevenson. her husband, Adam Boyd was born in County Leitrim in Templecrone, County Donegal, Ireland to parents Daniel Boyd and Mary Virtue.

Now that I had discovered who James Boyd was, I decided to try to trace the person named 'Connie Boyd' who was the later recipient of the 'History of England' book. I found a marriage for James Boyd to Eliza Ann Walker, in Kiama in the year 1886 and then set about searching for children born to this couple. I hoped to find Connie amongst them, or amongst their descendants. James and Eliza Ann Boyd had the following children - Adam J. W 1868, Mary Ann 1870, Eliza Jane 1871, Robert Erwin 1875, Maggie Caroline Susannah 1878, William Albert 1880, Frederick E 1882 and George Leslie 1887. After searching for the marriages and children of each of James' sons and daughters, I was still no closer to finding Connie Boyd the previous owner of the book I had purchased.

Having found no 'Connie' amongst the descendants of James Boyd, I searched for marriages for all of James' siblings however I was unable to find Connie Boyd. Assuming that 'Connie' was a shortened version of the name Constance, I searched the NSW electoral rolls without success and a search for a death and marriage also failed to find any sign of Connie Boyd. One Constance Boyd in Stockton, Newcastle, NSW, proved disappointingly, to be no relation to the Boyd family who had arrived on the ship 'Australia' in 1853.

Because online searches of historical births cut off at 1909 in NSW, I looked for deaths of possible children of James Boyd and his siblings. The person named Connie Boyd, whose mother had presented James' book to, however, still managed to elude me. I searched the NSW electoral rolls for Constance Boyd but with no result. Finally, widening my search to variations of the name Constance (and by now, thinking that perhaps Connie might be my mystery book owner's real name), I searched Ancestry.com and .... I found Connie Boyd. On the 1936 and 1937 electoral roll Connie Heather Boyd resided with her parents, Daniel Wesley ( farmer) and Maggie Caroline Susannah Boyd, at Main Road, Dapto, NSW. Connie's mother, Maggie was the fifth of James and Eliza Boyd's children. Her father Daniel Wesley, was the second child of James' sister Mary Jane Boyd and her husband Daniel Boyd. Connie's parents were first cousins and Connie was both the grand daughter and great neice of James Boyd. My next goal was to attempt to find the descendants of James and his grand daughter, Connie, the two owners of my now cherished little book. The more history that I discovered about the book the more I treasured it.

I easily found a marriage for Connie (now that I was searching under Connie and not Constance as I had previously done). She married John Frederick Miller in 1945 in Wollongong, NSW, however when I looked for her death I discovered that Connie had married more than once, as she died in 1975 in Wollongong under the surname of Halls not Miller. The 1949 electoral roll shows Connie Miller living at 263 Princess Highway, Dapto near Wollongong where she had married John Frederick Miller four years earlier.

I have been unable, as yet to trace any direct descendants of James Boyd through his daughter, Maggie Caroline Susannah or his grand daughter, Connie, but will continue to try to trace descendants through James other children. I am pleased to have learned about the boy who travelled to Australia in 1853 on board the ship 'Australia' and who was given the gift of a small history book as a token of the ship's teacher's esteem and appreciation.

The story does not end here. The book has travelled from England to Australia and is a valuable part of the Boyd family history and significantly, a treasured piece of evidence in the history of New South Wales. I will make certain that it is left in safe hands so that it will become accessible to everyone.