Frederick Watkins Diary Friday October 19 1885

Frederick Watkins was born in Ashwater, County Devon, England on October 25 1865. He wrote this diary as a record of his journey by ship to Australia in 1885. Frederick was one of 10 children born to Thomas Watkins and Elizabeth Ann Crabb, both born in Devon. This is his diary entry for the day that he boarded the ship 'Victor'. Frederick arrived in Maryborough, Queensland, in January 1886. here is his diary continued...

Friday Morning October 9th, 1885

I was in a good heart to be off for Queensland. All though I enjoyed my self at the home at Blackwall - for I look it nearly as home. I used to help wash the dishes with the girls and young men. Well, I left London for gravesend at 11 o'clock by the Victor when she had come to graves end and then we entered the [Silhet?] at one o'clock which when we had got in was left for our journey the same boat towed us out and at the light house (more there) dropped anchor. it is very fine weather there is land on each side of us which is very grand to see, we are anchored Saturday 10th.

Sunday October 11th

This is Sunday and a good rough morning. we started at 7 o'clock morn. I have had a good round of sickness the waves are coming in over the deck very fast the men and women are all sick today the waves are sweeping over the men one on the other we passed Dover at 3.30 had it rough from the north (dizziness) Got at easting 6.30 Had a good prayer meeting tonight.

Monday and Tuesday, Wednesday I was sick oh so sick if you could see me you would say I was not going to live so far as Queensland but after all my sickness I enjoy the sea for to see the fish is most delightfull We have left all the English coast. I shall be glad when we get to maryborough The food is so funny you can't think but it is not bad sort of stuff for they that like it Today it has been fine The people are enjoying themselves but me, poor me s done right up for the want of food, I do not know what the end will be if I do not alter, I am sitting in my favourite place that is in the sheeps pens this is where I sit every day as I have given you some hints of the last 4 days

Family Recipe Friday

Family Recipes

Whilst cleaning out some boxes in my garage recently, I came accross a small old address book. When I opened the well used little book, I was surprised to find that it contained, not addresses, but a collection of receipes written by my great aunt Dorothy, who was born in 1910 and died in 2001. I am not sure how the notebook came to be in my possesssion but as I read through the hand written recipes I noticed that my aunt had dated each one and in many cases written the name of the person from whom she had acquired the recipe.

Looking at the left slanted writing, I realised that I had never known that my great aunt was left handed like myself. When I got to know her well, she was a widow of advancing years who did little cooking. I did not ever sample the recipes in the litttle notebook, however, I can now imagine the dinner parties, that she must have hosted, being the wife of an army Major. Reading through her obviously much used, recipe book (food stains on a page are always the sign of a much loved and well used recipe), I realised that my aunt must have had an adventurous love of cooking. The recipes, which date from 1941 to 1975, were a collection of warm and hearty foods as well as quite exotic foods, many of which were boldly unusual for the 1940's and especially for the war years. This possibly reflected that great aunt Dorothy's husband Alexander had served in Malaysia and Japan in the Australian Army, during the second world war. Living in Asia, my great aunt had experienced new and interesting dishes which she herself cooked.

As well as dating the recipes, my great aunt had very kindly (for me) written where she was living at the time. I now have record of her whereabouts between 1941 and 1975 when the entries in the recipe book ceased. I did not know this aunt very well, since, for most of my life she lived either abroad or in a different state to myself. Through her recipe book and through her cooking, I feel that I am getting better acquainted with this interesting lady.

It was after watching the movie, Julie/Julia that my interest in blogging blossomed. I have always been an avid reader and writer however, it seems appropriate, now, that through a film about two women, years apart in age, who shared a love of cooking, one writing a French Cook book and the other younger woman blogging about the same book, that I am blogging about my great aunt, whose love of cooking shines through her own recipe book.

I want to discover, now, who was Sally Mann, who gave my great aunt a recipe for Ice Cream ( 17-6-46) when she lived in Sydney NSW. I am intrigued as to more about M Bishop, who passed on to my great aunt a recipe for Chocolate Pudding on July 7 1975 at Surfer's Paradise in Queensland. Sue Hing's recipe for glazed carrots was written in the little book 0n September, 9, 1960 in Taiping, Malaya (Malasia) along with other recipes from people in America. I can see a new journey for me ahead tracing the origins of these recipes.

I am determined, also, to try to cook some of the recipes from the small note book where my aunt has left not only a legacy of delicious food for me to cook, but a narrative of her life and her friends. The first recipe that I have decided to attempt, is a Banana Queen Pudding dated, 6-11-1948, Sydney. It sounds scrumptious and I am certain that my family will love it.

Reading through this book of old recipes has brought back to me so many memories of foods lovingly cooked by my mother and grandmother.

I have found several recipes in this book which my great aunt must have passed on to my mother and which I still make today. It makes the dishes much more special to know where they came from.

Food always seems to conjure some special memories. memories of Christmases with special food lovingly and festively prepared. Memories of birthdays with decoratively iced cakes. My memories of my paternal grandmother are very much asssociated with her wonderful Irish dishes such as Irish Bap which was greatly appreciated by all of her grandchildren. Only two weeks ago, I kindly recived by mail from an aunt, some of this grandmother's most loved recipes, including that of her Irish Bap. I am planning to cook it soon, along with her delicious Caramel Custard and Vanilla Bean Ice-Cream, 'Paddington Heights' Pumpkin Scones and Scottish Shortbread, (a recipe given to her by her mother-in law from Glasgow Scotland). My family may have to join a gym or take up running, as I blaze a trail through my old family recipes but I have no doubt that through these lovingly cooked meals, delicious desserts and cakes and I am going to come to better know my ancestors. Move over Julie/Julia!

P.S. I'll let you know how I fair with the Banana Queen Pudding and I am going to get started straight away, on my own hand written recipe book to pass on to my children.

Family Wedding Photographs

Family Wedding Photos

Family photographs which celebrate family events such as weddings are important social documents for family historians. As well as recording events which shaped the lives of the families who we are researching, wedding photos can provide us with a pictorial narrative about family relationships and so much more. Wedding photographs make an important statement about the social context within which the family existed, for example, whether the family was wealthy, of a working class or perhaps an ethnic background. Wedding photographs are also a relevant representation of social change, fashion, the places where and the way in which our forebears lived.

The clothes worn by the people in wedding photographs reflect much about fashion and the times in which they lived. Weddings are a special event for all families to which 'best' clothing was, and still is, worn. Wedding photographs from the two World War periods or the Great Depression are a reflection of how our families fared during these times of great hardship. The clothes worn by the Bride and Groom, provide vital information which helps us to define who a person was and much about them. From the wedding photograph pictured right, taken in Lancashire, in 1917, during World War 1, we have an immediate pictorial narrative about this couple. The groom, Bill Eckerley is wearing an army uniform. Research finds that he is a Private in the A.O.C. ( Army Ordinance Corps). The bride, Winifred Agnes Quinn is wearing day clothing as many women did during the war years when there was a shortage of money and materials. The fuller skirt and jacket which was fashionable in the pre 1918 years (after which, skirts became straighter) records this young bride as a fashionable young woman of her time. The photograph is taken in a studio, indicating that there was sufficient money to be spent on an official wedding portrait.

The wedding picture of Stanley Galik and his bride Mel, (below right) taken in 1945 in Norfolk England where Stanley was stationed is typical of many war time wedding photographs. There was a shortage of money and weddings were often arranged in haste as partners were sent off into battle.

Day clothing and uniforms were typical apparel for a wedding in England during World war 2. These two wedding photographs are a pictorial record of changing fashions as we see the women's skirts become shorter and straighter and the groom's uniform tells us that he served in the Navy.

Not only are wedding photographs, a significant record of the social and economic lives of our families, but they also make an important statement about the people in them. There is a saying that' clothes define the person'. Often the clothing worn in a wedding photograph defines who the wearer is. In the photograph, below right, in which I am Flower Girl (1958) I can see that my aunt felt confident enough about herself to wear a daringly (for the times) fitting wedding dress. Knowing that my grandmother was a wonderfully talented seamstress, I know that the wedding dress would have been hand made by her. My own mother made the little flower dress dress for myself. There is a certain psychology to 'reading' family photographs, and in particular, wedding photos are a wonderful insight into how our ancestors and relatives perceived themselves. A less confident bride may have worn a looser fitting gown.

Celebrations such as weddings are times when many family members gather together and are quite often the only pictorial record of many relatives and ancestors. They have, therefore, a significant place in the recording of our family history and are important resource material for anyone researching family history.

If you are fortunate, your family wedding photographs may have names written on the back to enable you to identify the people in the pictures and the place where your ancestor was married.

The wedding photograph, below right, is a treasured record of the wedding of my parents who married in 1954. Since they both died fairly young, I cannot ask them about their special day, however, I have a beautiful pictorial narrative of this family celebration, where the guests are dressed in their best clothing and the ladies in the fashion of the 1950's, are wearing hats. My mother sewed her wedding gown and veil and my grandmother made the bridesmaid's dresses as both girls were sisters of my father. I know from writing on the back of the photograph (written by a great aunt who sent the picture to another relative) that the marriage took place at St Paul's Church, St Paul's Terrace, Brisbane and that the reception was held at 'Whytecliffe'.

Frederick Watkin's Diary Tuesday October 4, 1885

Tuesday October 6 1885

[page] 2. Up from bed this morning at 5.30 washed and dressed and then I went up in the street for a walk after which was something to be seen Ragged Boys and Girls as well as a lot of men and women

I continued untill Friday looking and running about enjoying myself very well

'What sort of Diary should I like mine to be?' Virginia Wolfe 1882-1941

The Diary of Frederick Watkins' journey from England to Australia 1885

Diaries are an irreplaceable source of information about ancestors. Unfortunately, as far as I know, none of my own forebears were committed keepers of journals.

Today, in a bookstore, I found a bound copy of the diary written by Frederick Watkins. I purchased the document for $10. The first diary entry, pictured above, states that he was born on November 25, 1865 and is 21 years. The diary begins on October 4, 1885 and is a day by day account of this young man's trip from home, first by train and then the voyage by ship. The diary concludes at the end of Frederick's first day spent in Maryborough, Queensland.

I will post interesting pieces of Frederick Watkin's writing in my blogs as his words are a poignant insight into every part of the long voyage to Australia from sleeping, bathing, washing of clothes, discomforts, illness and the sights and experiences he lived through on his journey. Now, my challenge is to find out who Frederick Watkins was, and to perhaps trace some descendants who might be interested in the diary. This is 21 year old Frederick's first diary entry:

'1885 To Queensland Page one. [Born 25 Nov 1865 Aged 21 years] My Voyage and life to Maryborough Queensland x Monday October 4th Left Butleigh 7,30 to Glastonbury Station at 8.35 left in third class carriage for Waterloo arrived at 3 o'clock .....then to Fenchurch Street by cab Took train to Black-wall arrived at 4 o'clock which after a long day's ride was very tired and weary and in with a lot of strange people made me ..... [worse?] I took some tea at the home at 5 o'clock then out looking about for some time to the ships and boats which was a lot of excitement

all though it is raining we stayed in London for some time then to bed there were about 200 or more to sleep This has been a day of very lonely hours All though I enjoyed the country ride. I am afraid you will never read this queer writing'

Middle Names and Family History

What's in a [Middle] Name? (Apologies to Shakespeare)

A Lighthearted look at Middle names

When you named your child, how did you choose a middle name for him or her? Whilst you spent hours happily perusing books of popular baby names, did you spare a thought for family historians of the future? Did you give the child an unusual or unique name, that would be easy for the genealogy enthusiast in your family, to find? 'Fessenden', for example shows up particularly well in a search of census records, and Verily Mary Christmas is quite an excellent choice for the electoral roll. Did you name the babe for your parents, or choose an old traditional family name? Perhaps you had a particular fondness for an aunt or uncle and named your child for them? I, myself, considered naming my first born after great aunt Esther Driscilla, in the hope that she might leave her vast riches to me in appreciation, however, I doubt that my son would have thought any amount of money could make up for being named Fergus Druscilla!

This blog is not named 'Monday Middle Names' just because it happens to be a Monday. There is a point to be made about awkward middle names and Mondays. I, for one, know what it is like to have the misfortune of being burdened with an unusual family middle name which, although may be a useful search tool for a family genealogist one day in years to come, has had a most unfortunate effect upon myself. In fact, I have been so traumatised by my own middle name that when it came to naming my children, I gave them all three names. Just in case they didn't like two of them! Well, except for my son, who has four and that was only because as I stepped up to the counter to register him, I panicked that he might not like the three names I had chosen and in a moment of madness added the name of the baby who had been ahead of me in the registry office queue. How do you tell your child that you named him after a perfect stranger in queue? In any case, Rahij is a lovely old Urdu name and goes well with Fergus, and I'm sure if I search hard enough amongst my Scottish, Irish and Swiss ancestors I will find an Urduan relative somewhere.

I was named after an aunt whose birthday I happen to share. If I had known that my appearance on that day would inevitably mean my sharing her middle name as well as her birthday, I might have timed my arrival better. Whenever I complained about the name as a child I was told to be proud of it since it was an old Scottish name. The middle name didn't really become such a big problem until I was at Bardon State School, when my second grade teacher, Mr Digby (I can't vouch for my spelling and you'll soon understand why) asked me if I was born on a Monday. At the tender age of 6, I knew that 'Mondays child is fair of face', and I was tempted to say 'yes', but because I was ' bonny and blithe and good and gay' I was also truthful. 'No Sir,' I replied, hoping he wouldn't be disappointed, 'I was born on a Sunday'.


Monday's child is fair of face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go,
Friday's child is loving and giving,
Saturday's child works hard for a living,
But the child that is born on the Sabbath day,
Is Bonny and Blithe and Good and Gay'.


Born on a Sunday?' a puzzled Mr Digby exclaimed. 'Why then is your middle name Monday?'
Why, oh why, did Mr Bigby want this conversation. Wasn't it bad enough just to have been given my horrible old Scottish middle name. Now I was going to have to tell entire class what it was. There was no escaping it. MrBigby was awaiting an answer. 'It's not Monday, Sir,' I squeaked, 'It's Monda.' I waited for the laughter, but no one laughed! Well, not until Mr Bigby continued, 'Well, you have been writing Monday for the past two years.' 'Sharna-Lee Monday MacDade, that's what you've been writing.' A curse on that name. Right at that very moment a bird flew into the classroom and pooped on my head. I can't recall which was most embarrassing, the fact that I had mis-spelled my middle name for 2 years or the bird poop! But the incident did nothing to endear my middle name to me. These days I don't so much mind having 'an old Scottish' middle name, however, in all of my research of Scottish ancestors, I have never come across the name Monda anywhere.

If you were particularly thoughtful of the future family historian, you perhaps followed the Scottish tradition of giving your offspring family surnames as middle names? My Scottish forebears were most helpful by giving their children middle names which were the maiden surnames of maternal mothers and grandmothers? My great grandparents gave their first four children the middle name Gibson. My great grandmother was a Gibson. Then came along my grandfather to be given the middle name Hamilton. If I had been a boy, I was to have the middle name Hamilton. Most of my cousins, male and female have the middle name of Hamilton. 'Who was a Hamilton?' I hear you ask. Well, as it turns out, he was the doctor in Cumbernauld, Scotland, who delivered my grandfather. They ran out of maternal surnames to use. Best to check who you are naming the children after. I'm sure Dr Hamilton was a lovely man. I hope so because generations later, a large number of my family are named after him. great grandmother, Elizabeth's sister was Margaret Campbell Gibson. She was named after their maternal grandmother Margaret Campbell. That's how it was with my Scottish ancestors. William Holme Cameron. Mother was a Holme. Wallace Dalkieth Morrison. His mother a Dalkieth. Too easy! Well, except for the Hamilton thing!

The English were quite fond of using surnames as middle names as well. The English, however tended to keep passing the same name down for many generations. Manton was the middle name which helped me to trace my Westons from Middlesex. I traced it back to the 1780's where I found the first Edward Weston, of many generations of Edward Westons, had maried an Elizabeth Manton. It's nice to know where your middle name comes from if it is an old family name. I should know! The middle names of ancestors such as Elizabeth Dixon Mallows, Rex Morley Hoyes, Alexander Gilmour McDade, Sarah Campbell McDairmid and James Berry Hoyes made the trail the trail of ancestors more easily identifyable. Recently I discovered that a friend's two ancestors were first cousins, because Emma Woodland married a James Woodland Searle. This middle name was a clue to solving a very old mystery in the family. Never under-estimate the importance of a middle name.

Naming traditions are not so much in fashion these days as they once were. This is possibly a good thing for some children who will no longer be weighed down with the burden of carrying Aunt Esmerelda's or Uncle Horrice's names into the future (or Monda). But it does make the job more difficult for genealogists in the years to come. How much more confusing will be the task for for the family historian as they try to trace names such as Addison, Maddison, Emerson, Harper, Taylor for girls and Hunter, Jackson, Franklin, Knox and MacArthur for boys, all very trendy but in most cases with no connection to family.

So, spare a thought for those who will be on the hunt for family in the future. Consider giving your children middle names which will make it easy to identify ancestors and relatives in records. From my own experience, I can promise you that your daughter, Grace will survive the childhood trauma of having the middle name of of Shuffelbottom if that happened to be your maiden surname. If you feel guilty about giving your child a middle name such as Long, Short, Humperdink, Butcher or Carbonara, just think of how much easier it will for them to be found one day in a census or on a school list. And like me, they can keep it to themselves until they are old enough to appreciate the significance of a 'family' name (unless, of course, Mr Bigby is still teaching). My son has my maiden surname as one of his [many] middle names. He doesn't use all of his names and I am the first to admit that perhaps I did overdo the middle name thing. But who can blame me. At least I am the only person on the Queensland School registers with the middle name of 'Monday'. At least, I will be easy to find one day.

'Master, master, old news! And such news as you never heard of.' William Shakespeare [The Taming of the Shrew]

Newspapers and family history

Hail! the digitalisation of newspapers. Not only is it fascinating to read 'old' news but for family historians, newspapers are a treasure trove of information about family members. Online newspaper archives have saved me hours of travelling and made searching so much easier. Although (it is fitting to say this immediately following 'follow a library' day), I absolutely adore libraries, I do have to admit that a search of the London Times, online, has made my search for ancestors in the UK so much easier.

[I would never suggest that an online search facility for newspapers could ever replace the good old library. Whether it is the smell of 'cut grass', 'mould', 'history', or whatever else it is that attracts one to libraries or archives.. I just love them. In fact, my children have to physically restrict me when walking walk past any library, just to prevent me from entering.] I digress... back to my topic of newspapers [which, I must add have been digitalised for the most part, by our wonderful libraries.]

The stories of my ancestors have been become more personal and so much more interesting through the chronicles of 'news' I have collected from newspapers. There is a wealth of information that newspapers can provide, about the everyday happenings, adventures, affairs (literally) and escapades in the lives of our ancestors. The photograph above, from the Brisbane Courier Mail in 1954, is the only picture that I have of my parent's marriage. This is much more than just a picture, as it tells me that my parents' wedding reception was held at a place called Whytecliffe. Since both of my parents died quite young, I would never have known this. Thanks to this newspaper photograph , I have since researched Whytecliffe to discover that it was was a beautiful home which was taken over by the military during the second world war for use as barracks for the WAAAF and then used for wedding receptions after the war had ended.

On my paternal side of the family, it is common knowledge that my great grandfather, John McDade, was killed by a falling branch as he walked through a park on his way home from work. He actually died the next day, after a hospital sent him home declaring him fit and well. But as family lore states, 'well', he was not the next morning. His obituary does not tell this story, however I was fortunate to have a reliable first hand account from my grandfather. From my maternal side of the family, I have no oral accounts of anything, so I have been reliant upon documents such as marriage and death certificates for information. Despite having received from New Zealand, a copy of the death certificate for my 2 time great grandfather, James Berry Hoyes, I had no idea that he, also, had been involved in an unfortunate accident until I searched the New Zealand National Library's digitalised newspaper site http://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/. On entering the name James Berry Hoyes, I discovered a number of headings, including 'Old Man Killed', Casualties', and 'Fatalities'. The Evening Post, on
December, 24, 1910, reported that James had been fatally struck by a bicycle as he alighted from a tram in Queen Street near Fort Street at 3 pm on that afternoon. The Hawera and Normanby Star reported that James was aged 76 years old and was a resident of Devonport. This news article also explained that he had succumbed to injuries at 5.30 pm and added that the 'cyclist had 'received a nasty tumble.' The Poverty Bay Herald also ran the story and added the further information that named the cyclist as a Mr Bush and with a more personal touch the journalist from this newspaper reported that James Berry Hoyes was on his way to buy his wife a bonnet for Christmas. Thanks to these newspaper reports, I was able to learn so much more about the sad and untimely death of my great great grandfather.

I had always assumed that the same James Berry Hoyes had immigrated to New Zealand for religious reasons given that he and his wife, Elizabeth, were part of the missionary group, the Albertlanders, however, as I mentioned in a previous story, the London Gazette, www.london-gazette.co.uk/ provided me with a new motive for the family's move. James Berry Hoyes, a miller from Houghton, Lincolnshire, was declared bankrupt in October of 1862, the year before he left England for the new colony of New Zealand. This news makes me appreciate all the more, the impressive way in which he made such a success of his life in new Zealand

It is often quite seemingly insignificant fragments of information that one finds reported in newspapers that fill in some missing gaps or provide us with a more accurate picture of someone from the past. From a search of the national Library of Australia's Trove website, I have discovered that my 2 times great grandfather, John Gottlieb Nargar [Nerger], who lived in Maryborough, was a keen breeder of finches. He entered his birds in a number of agricultural shows, the results of which were printed in The Queenslander and The Brisbane Courier Mail in the early 1900's. I now have a quite different picture in my mind of my tough, strict, German timber-getter, great great grandfather. He was a gentle nurturer of tiny birds. I see that there was a devoted and caring side of him now. Each, small morsel of information we can gather about our ancestors helps to make them become more real to us.

My Morrison great great great grandparents came to Sydney, Australia in 1878. I knew little of their lives except that they, for some reason relocated to Queensland in the 1900's and died in a town called Cooroy in 1927. They are Pioneers of Cooroy. Since the launch of the National Library's Trove site http://trove.nla.gov.au/ I have slowly built up a truly amazing story of my 3 times great grandfather, John Morrison from Aberdeen, Scotland. From articles in The Sydney Morning Herald I have ascertained that he was a well respected builder in Sydney, having built a number of impressive projects for architects such as Blackett Bros and others. (The Blackett brothers were the sons of colonial architect Edmund Blackett). Chapter House which adjoins St Andrew's Cathedral was built by John Morrison, builder, of Strathfield. John also built the Strathfield Council Chambers, St Enoch's Presbyterian Church at Newtown, Burwood Presbyterian Church and a large number of villas and homes all around Sydney. Advertisements in the SMH show the whereabouts of his construction sites as do advertisements and tenders for for tradesmen for his projects.

The Sydney Morning Herald also led me to discover that in 1890, John Morrison was contracted by the NSW government to build a large number of rail carriages. I discovered through newspaper articles that he had a large tram and rail carriage building works at Strathfield Station, where the Tafe College now stands. By all accounts, the evidence from newspaper reports showed this man to be a most successful and productive citizen of Sydney. Then, according to advertisements in 1895 in the SMH, John Morrison lost everything he had worked hard to achieve. Large advertisements in the SMH, announced that household goods and carriage works equipment would be sold at auction.
The reason for the sale was reported to have been the cancellation of an order of 180 rail carriages which the NSW government had ordered. Because of this, John Morrison was ruined. Reading the list of furniture and personal items in the newspaper almost brought me to tears. How devastated must my 3 times great grandparents have been to lose their beautiful things. They had two grand pianos, top quality furniture and paintings by renowned artists, jewellery designed by well known jewellers and ladies riding equipment. These advertisements for the auction of the Morrison's personal possessions illustrated the lifestyle they had become accustomed to, living with their 10 children, in the beautiful leafy suburb of Strathfield.

Through the Brisbane Courier Mail, I followed John Morrison's journey to Ipswich, Queensland where it was reported that he acquired the position of foreman in the South Eastern Railway Works. The social pages of the same newspaper reported holidays that the Morrison family members went on, especially several of their daughters who became nurses and one a matron of her own hospital in Cooroy. A delicious little tidbit of gossip such as the following report in the Brisbane Courier Mail, November 30, 1925, which announced that ' Nurse Vinna Morrison (Cooroy Hospital) left by this morning's mail for Sydney and Cobar', sent me on a search for the reason that Vinna would have travelled to Cobar. There I found another Morrison daughter, Inez, also a nurse and a whole new line of family.

The Morrison family deserve an entire blog of their own and so I will leave them for now, except to say that when the NSW State Rail Museum at Thirlemere opens after its huge renovation, in March of 2011, I will be there, with bells on to see several of my 3 times great grandfather's rail carriages, beautifully restored. ( His first carriage unrestored pictured right at Thirlemere).


You don't need to have a builder or a finch collector in the family, to find your ancestors in newspapers. In fact, if your forebears engaged in any criminal activities, you can be certain that they will appear somewhere in a newspaper . I might have believed forever that my Irish convict great great grandfather, Michael Frayne had reformed himself and become a model citizen had he not appeared so frequently in so many newspapers engaging in such wicked acts as to entice a man to his home on the pretence of selling a bed, drugging the fellow and stealing his wallet and money. Michael and his first wife Bridget, appeared so many times in the Sydney Morning Herald, the Maitland Mercury and the Brisbane Courier Mail, with detailed accounts of their wicked escapades, that I was left with no illusions as to the unfortunate character of this particular ancestor (who I must proclaim that I do not resemble in the least!).


My great uncle was hit by a car at the age of seven, in Toowoomba in Queensland. Now in his 90's, he does not recall the incident and but for the newspaper report in 1924, the family would never had known. My maternal grandfather rode a motorbike in the 1920's. I know this because of the number of fines he received for speeding, that were published in the Brisbane Courier Mail. My Irish paternal grandparents were well respected members of the Darling Downs farming community and received a hearty and musical farewell by the townsfolk of Kaimkillenbun in 1920. The article in the Dalby Herald details the recitations and songs that were sung at an afternoon reception in their honour.


The adventures of my great uncle Rex Morley Hoyes, with MI5 and the Nizam of Hyderabad, his illegal gun running and trial for bribery and corruption, not to mention his escapades with Australian pilot Sidney Cotton or WW11 double agent, Eddie Chapman, his home, Marwell Hall once owned by King Henry VIII and huge steam yacht 'Warrior 11', his numerous divorces, name changes and a mysterious title, along with a speed boat with the racy name of 'Miss x' would all have been lost to me, but for the fascinating availability of online searches of digitalised newspapers. Thanks to the London Times, I know the very address where great Uncle Rex conducted his affair in 1933, with Lady Waleran, and the details of the two divorces which followed this pubic disclosure.

Newspapers occupy an irreplaceable place in family history research. The information found in news reports can trace and colour the lives of our ancestors in a way that is beyond the imagination.

'Well, all I know is what I read in the newspapers.' Will Rogers 1879-1935: in the new York Times 1923