Tag Archives: Writing Prompt

Sergeant Basil Lowingham Henderson DCM (1891 – 1967)

Born and raised in the South Australian country, an early volunteer, Basil Henderson appears to fit the classic, bronzed, Australian stereotype. Long silences in his army records speak volumes about his character and fitness for service. Waves of diarrhea, diphtheria, and venereal disease, plagued other soldiers. He fought in rocky, hillside trenches in Gallipoli and flat, muddy trenches France, slowly advancing from private to sergeant. His service was ended abruptly, a few months before armistice when he was wounded for a second time, in an action that earned him a Distinguished Conduct Medal.  One brother was killed in action, another wounded and disabled, and his mother died within months of war’s end. He returned a hero to a different world, and appears to have coped. Stoic, is the word that comes to mind.

Basil Lowingham Henderson was born 12 May 1891 on the family farm in Muloowurtie, Daly, South Australia,[1] the eighth child of ten. His family was well known in the small community of Ardrossan, his parents having owned the General Store for many years before taking up farming.[2] At a time when every town had its own local newspaper, the Henderson’s lives are surprisingly well documented.

As one of the people on whom the modern “ANZAC legend” is based, Basil could be said to fit the stereotype. At the age of two, he went missing from the farm, the whole district engaged in the search for him, and when he was found some twenty-three hours later it was reported that “… having been warmed up and refreshed with some food one of the search party had with him, he became quite merry and talkative.”[3] At the age of eleven he was bitten by a snake whilst rabbit hunting, he chopped off a piece of his thumb with snake still attached, this time he was reported to be “plucky”.[4]  His eldest brother died when Basil was three,[5] and his father was killed in a farm accident when Basil was seventeen,[6] so he was no stranger to death. On enlistment, he was five feet, seven and a half inches (171 cm) in height, of medium dark complexion, and 161 pounds (73 kg) in weight.[7]  It could be said, therefore that Basil was tall, bronzed, independent, and of strong character.

On 4 August 1914 when war was declared in the Britain[8] the nine surviving Hendersons, two females and seven males, were aged from 15 to 32 years old, none were married. Basil was 23. In October 1914, his brother George, enlisted at Morphetville, South Australia, aged 26.[9] Basil joined on 30 January 1915 in Ennogra, Queensland, where he listed himself as a farmer.[10]  Surprisingly, he was pipped to the post by his younger brother Leonard, who enlisted in Oaklands, South Australia at the age of 15 years and nine months, by passing himself off as being 21.[11]  The enlisting officer could hardly be blamed for being fooled as Leonard was six feet and half an inch (184cm) tall.[12] The three eldest, aged 32, 30 and 29, never enlisted which is not surprising as most soldier volunteers were aged between 18 and 25, with 21 being the most common age.[13]

Basil embarked from Brisbane, Queensland, on board HMAT A15 Star of England.[14] There is no record of his disembarkation port, his record states only that on 26 May he joined ANZAC, and no further record until he disembarked in Alexandria from Murdos on 4 January 1916.[15] It is not surprising that there are no records for this period. It is common knowledge that Gallipoli was a steep, rocky terrain, backed only by sea, and completely outside the scope of British and allied lands. There was no bureaucracy to record the minutiae of individual service, and the peninsular was being furiously defended by the Turks.

It is only possible to browse through the diaries of the 9th Battalion and gain an overview of what kind of situation Basil was in during this time. There is also no mention in battalion diary of 4th reinforcement’s arrival[16] although 5th reinforcements are mentioned in June.[17] It is therefore safe to assume that Basil was in Gallipoli by the beginning of June and his experience in Gallipoli was like others of the 9th Battalion.

In June, they were supplying fatigue parties to help dig trenches as casualties during the day were too great, followed by attempting to retrieve bodies under heavy rifle fire.[18] In July, they were rotated to front line, Cholera Inoculations began. Platoons were being taken to the beach for a swim, there were three cases of men cutting or shooting off fingers hoping, unsuccessfully, to get evacuated to hospital, and by the end of the month diarrhea was prevalent.[19]

August,[20] September[21] and October[22] was a continuous cycle of heavy fighting interspersed with quiet days, sick leaving and returning as troops and officers were infected with amoebic dysentery reducing the strength of the battalion. To top off the month of October, there was a very close encounter with a Turkish digging party, and a fierce storm that damaged piers on the beach.

At the beginning of November,[23] they rotated off the front lines and were sent on a bivouac. On November 16 they embarked SS Abassiah for Lemnos. They spent the rest of November and then December[24] training and regrouping. It was cold and snowing, the soldiers did not have enough warm clothing or blankets. Another outbreak of diphtheria in the beginning of December caused Battalion to be quarantined, their health gradually improved and they began to organise sports and entertainments. The quarantine was lifted and on 31 December and they embarked the Grampian for Alexandria.

In January 1916, Basil was disciplined for being in Lagazig without a pass. In February, his brother Edward enlisted in Adelaide.[25]  Basil was transferred, first to 49th Battalion, then in March to 4th Division Artillery, as gunner, and finally to 11th Field Artilliary Brigade, mustered and posted 4S Battery. In April, he was promoted to Bombardier.  All this was still in Egypt.[26]

In June, he joined the British Expeditionary Forces on the 10th, he disembarked Haverford in Marseilles, and by the 26th, was promoted in the field France, to Corporal. There being nothing in his record, we must assume he spent the next seven months fighting in France, beginning in summer through to the harshest winter in Europe for forty years.[27]

It was now January 1917, and the Sarah Henderson had four sons on active service. For two years, there had been no serious incidents, but all that was about to change. The youngest brother, Leonard, who had been in service in France for as long as Basil, was hospitalised for two weeks in early January for “debility”.[28]  On 28 January 2017, another brother Edward was killed in action[29] and buried in a makeshift graveyard in Le Boeufs, three miles south of Bapaume, in France.[30] In February, Basil was promoted in the field in Belgium to Seargent.[31]

On 10 June, George was seriously wounded in action in Belgium, a gunshot wound to left hand and leg, and transferred to England for hospitalisation.[32] It is only fair to assume that Basil was aware of all this. In August, Basil is recorded as being hospitalised sick then, soon after, being hospitalised again for an illness whilst on his way to England for leave. Although it does not record what illness he had, it is the first time he is recorded as having any kind of illness.[33] He was certainly a healthy, hardy man.

September 25, Basil was seriously wounded in action in France, a gunshot wound to leg and head, and transferred to England for hospitalisation, his mother was notified. Throughout 1917, Sarah Henderson is kept informed about her sons’ progress with short proforma letters using formal phrases, “advised to hospital”, “advised progressing favourably”, “advised convalescent”.

In January 1918, Basil returned to duties in France,[34] and George was discharged with a disability pension of 15 shillings per week, and returned to Australia.[35] He arrived home in March, to flags, school children and foundry worker’s in a guard of honour, and speeches.[36]

Only a few days later, on 5 April, Basil was wounded in action for the second time, a gunshot wound to right elbow, left leg and knee. The letters to his mother started up another round, she must have dreaded visiting the post office. On 12 May Basil was awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal.[37] He spent the last three months of the war and many months after, recuperating in hospital. His mother Sarah, died unexpectedly during this time, she survived the war by only a few months, and died on 2 January, 1919. His brother, still under 21 managed to serve throughout the war, a sprained ankle being his only injury.

Basil returned home on May 17,  and Leonard on May 31.  They each had a hero’s welcome. Life appears to have returned to the rhythm of rural life. Basil married, had children, and was not mentioned in the newspaper again until he, and two companions had a narrow escape in a cart accident.

Without any personal papers, it is not possible to imagine how Basil, or any of his brothers coped with their experience of the war. War veterans rarely if ever speak of these things. Once again, it is the silence in the records that imply Basil’s stoic character.

[1] Australia, Birth Index, 1788-1922. p 316. Vol 479, 1891 Basil Lowingham Henderson http://www.ancestrylibrary.com/  accessed 5 January, 2017

[2] 1885 ‘ARDROSSAN.’, Yorke’s Peninsula Advertiser (SA : 1878 – 1922), 17 February, p. 3. , http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article216321047, accessed 09 May 2017

[3]   1893 ‘ARDROSSAN.’, Yorke’s Peninsula Advertiser (SA : 1878 – 1922), 21 July, p. 3. , http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article216732788,  accessed 30  April 2017.

[4] 1901 ‘THE COUNTRY.’, The Register (Adelaide, SA : 1901 – 1929), 21 October, p. 6., http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article56509793 , accessed 07 May 2017

[5] 1893 ‘Family Notices’, The Express and Telegraph (Adelaide, SA : 1867 – 1922), 14 August, p. 2. (SECOND EDITION), http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article208456031,  accessed 30  April 2017.

[6] 1908 ‘INJURED BY A FALL.’, Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1895 – 1954), 12 September, p. 41. , http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article8830919, accessed 30  April 2017.

[7] Service Record of Basil Lowingham Henderson, B2455, National Archives of Australia, p. 1.

[8] Australian War Memorial, ‘Timeline: Australia in the First World War, 1914-1918’, https://www.awm.gov.au/1914-1918/timeline/ , accessed 20 April 2017.

[9] Service Record of George Henderson, B2455, National Archives of Australia, p. 2.

[10] Service Record of Basil Lowingham Henderson, B2455, National Archives of Australia, p. 1.

[11] Service Record of Leonard Wills Henderson, B2455, National Archives of Australia, p. 1.

[12] Service Record of Leonard Wills Henderson, p. 3.

[13] Australian War Memorial, ‘Enlistment statistics, First World War’, https://www.awm.gov.a u/encyclopedia/enlistment/wwa1/, accessed 30 April, 2017

[14] WWI Embarkation Rolls, 9th Infantry Battalion, 4th Reinforcements, p50

[15] Service Record of Basil Lowingham Henderson, p. 13

[16] Australian Imperial Force unit war diaries, 1914-18 War, 9th Infantry Battalion, May 1915 p, RCDIG1003197, Australian War Memorial, https://www.awm.gov.au/collection/RCDIG1000591/ accessed 29 April 2017

[17] Australian Imperial Force unit war diaries, 1914-18 War, 9th Infantry Battalion, June 1915 p, RCDIG1017616, Australian War Memorial, https://www.awm.gov.au/collection/RCDIG1000591/ accessed 29 April 2017.

[18] 9th Infantry Battalion war diary, June 1915

[19] Australian Imperial Force unit war diaries, 1914-18 War, 9th Infantry Battalion, July 1915 p, RCDIG1003198, Australian War Memorial, https://www.awm.gov.au/collection/RCDIG1000591/  accessed 29 April 2017.

[20] Australian Imperial Force unit war diaries, 1914-18 War, 9th Infantry Battalion, August 1915 p, RCDIG1003199, Australian War Memorial, https://www.awm.gov.au/collection/RCDIG1000591/ accessed 29 April 2017.

[21] Australian Imperial Force unit war diaries, 1914-18 War, 9th Infantry Battalion, September 1915 p, RCDIG1003087, Australian War Memorial, https://www.awm.gov.au/collection/RCDIG1000591/  accessed 29 April 2017.

[22] Australian Imperial Force unit war diaries, 1914-18 War, 9th Infantry Battalion, October 1915 p, RCDIG1003088, Australian War Memorial, https://www.awm.gov.au/collection/RCDIG1000591/  accessed 29 April 2017.

[23] Australian Imperial Force unit war diaries, 1914-18 War, 9th Infantry Battalion, November 1915 p, RCDIG1003089, Australian War Memorial, https://www.awm.gov.au/collection/RCDIG1000591/  accessed 29 April 2017.

[24] Australian Imperial Force unit war diaries, 1914-18 War, 9th Infantry Battalion, December 1915 p, RCDIG1003090, Australian War Memorial, https://www.awm.gov.au/collection/RCDIG1000591/  accessed 29 April 2017.

[25] Service Record of Edward Osmond Henderson, B2455, National Archives of Australia. P. 1.

[26] Service Record of Basil Lowingham Henderson, p. 13

[27] Australian War Memorial, “Timeline: Australia in the First World War, 1914-1918”, https://www.awm.gov.au/1914-1918/timeline/, accessed 20 April 2017.

[28] Service Record of Leonard Wills Henderson, p. 13.

[29] Service Record of Edward Osmond Henderson, p. 6.

[30] Service Record of Edward Osmond Henderson, p. 8.

[31] Service Record of Basil Lowingham Henderson, p. 4.

[32] Service Record of George Henderson, p. 9.

[33] Service Record of Basil Lowingham Henderson, p. 14.

[34] Service Record of Basil Lowingham Henderson, p. 16.

[35] Service Record of George Henderson, p. 30.

[36] 1918 ‘THE COUNTRY.’, The Register (Adelaide, SA : 1901 – 1929), 1 April, p. 7. , http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article60343933 accessed 09 May 2017,

[37] Service Record of Basil Lowingham Henderson, p. 5.

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Basil

 

Oh God, not again, who is it this time?”

Sarah looked at the envelope, the only typewritten letters she ever received were from the army. She walked outside the general store, put her basket down and sat down on the top step, staring at the envelope as if willing it to disappear. The townspeople kept an eye on her, but no one interfered, almost every family in the district had had their fair share those letters.

She took a deep breath, turned the envelope over, slowly opened the flap and removed the contents. She was an expert at this now, she could look slightly to the side of the envelope with unfocussed eyes, carefully unfold its contents, and take one more deep breath before focussing on the words.

“REPORTED SERGEANT BASIL HENDERSON WOUNDED WILL ADVISE ANYTHING FURTHER RECEIVED.”

“Basil” she said to the air, shaking her head. The nearest onlooker, nodded politely and quietly passed the name on. Everyone understood.

“Thank God John did not live to see this.  Four sons fighting in someone else’s war, Edward dead, George, Basil and Leonard, I’ve lost count of the letters.”

The shopkeeper, her best friend had come out to comfort her. “He’s a tough li’l bugger, you’ll see.” She sat beside her.

“Remember that day he disappeared?”

Suddenly they were both back in time.

 

 

She groaned as she rolled out of bed. She had barely slept. Lack of cloud cover made the night colder than usual, but for once, farmers were praying for it to not rain. Some of the men had continued to search throughout the night with a slither of a new moon reflecting only just enough light. Sent to bed at midnight, she had woken up every time one of them came in or out.

It was barely first light and already people were streaming in from the town. It was the second day. For the children, it was like a carnival, as whole families turned out to help. The women manned the kitchen and watched the children while the men and every boy over twelve, were out searching in rotation, on foot and on horseback. Thomas and Isaac had already left with their father.

 The atmosphere was surreal; her mind and body had disconnected to stop her from thinking about who they were searching for or whether he would be found. Her calm exterior belied the fact that she was on the verge of hysteria. She took charge of the kitchen, making sure that everyone had enough to eat and drink, and sending refreshments on horseback out to the search parties.  The hours passed.

She looked up to see the face of her best friend in the doorway.

“Sarah Henderson, if you don’t sit with me and take tea, you will feint with exhaustion, and then what use will you be to Basil when they bring him home? The dark rings around your eyes have dark rings around them.”

She had six other boys, four born on this very farm, and she had never lost one. For the first time since they had moved to the farm, she wished they had stayed keeping shop, in the township where no one could ever get lost.

 Suddenly she was back there, having tea with her friend.

She could feel the sawdust under her feet; smell the soaps, spices, fruits, wafting in and out with the breeze; hear her friend’s raucous laughter; and feel her face redden as meaning dawned on her innocent mind.

Sarah, Sarah,” the sound of her name bringing her back to life.

Outside was ominously silent. They went to the door and saw a man on horseback riding like the devil towards them. Sarah’s legs gave way as she swooned, it took several of the women to coax her back into the sitting room.

He burst through the door, red faced from the wild ride and with tears streaming down his dust encrusted face, he could hardly speak. Someone thrust a glass of water into his hand and he took a great gulp and then a great gulp of air.

“They found him Mrs Henderson, they found him. And the wee tyke is fine! Can you believe it?”

He was too choked with emotion to say any more. Outside, there were wild shouts of hooray and long piercing whistles, men, women and children whooping with relief. Even the dogs, sensing something, were barking.

 

 

“Oi, is anyone looking after this shop?”

The two women, jolted from their daydream, breathed sharply in. They looked at each other

“Yeah, he’s a tough li’l bugger, he’ll be fine”.

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Solemn Grandure

On the ninth of February, 1895, a man known only as a “Special Reporter” described the scene of a recent bush fire, perhaps this was how John Davis may have felt that night.

He wrote:[1]

“Having left Echunga after sunset, I had at least one advantage of travelling in the dark. The innumerable burning logs and trees which mark the extent of the devastation caused by the recent fire presented a scene of solumn grandeur not easily to be described. For many miles in every direction these brilliant glaring objects shone with an intense ruddy light, which, in the deep silence and solitude of the forests, was most imposing to behold.”

It could not be easily described, because to describe something, is to equate it to some similar thing already seen and known. These early Europeans would have been used to seeing a bright star-lit night, something that amazes many modern people accustomed to light pollution. They would not have been used to seeing a brightly lit landscape, unless they had recently arrived from Europe, Adelaide was yet to have universal street lighting. Few if any would have seen fireworks and no one could imagine have imagined flying, let alone the visage of city lights far below.

No, the scene facing this nameless reporter would not have been easily described. It would not have been easily forgotten either. The landscape, many locals escaping with only the clothes on their back,[2]  having lost their entire life’s work, and some who lost their lives. Everything changed, and all in a matter of a few short days.

___________

[1] 1859 ‘MACCLESFIELD.’, South Australian Register (Adelaide, SA : 1839 – 1900), 11 February, p. 3. , viewed 03 Feb 2017, http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article49897242

[2] 1859 ‘No title’, The South Australian Advertiser (Adelaide, SA : 1858 – 1889), 8 February, p. 3. , viewed 03 Feb 2017, http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article788749

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Fire

In 1859, John and Rosa Davis had been married for nine years[1]. had four young children,[2] and lived in Macclesfield, South Australia, a colony less than thirty years old. [3].  In February of that year, a bush fire ravaged the area and several lives were lost.

There are no less than ten contemporary newspaper accounts. The damage caused by the fire was so widespread that detail about individual losses is lost. An Inquest into the fire lists J Davis (among others) simply as houseless.[4] It found, “That the fire originated in a section belonging to Mr. John Heyward, near Echunga, but by what means it was started, there is no evidence to show.”

In 1859 rural Australia, communication was by post and printed newspapers. There were no fire engines, motorised or electrical devices, no weather reports, or warning systems. The Bureau of Meteorology.[5] and even the clichéd outback radio were more than fifty years away.

One can only guess at how this could have been experienced by these European inhabitants.

 

[1]Australia, Marriage Index,1850, p 160, Vol 14 John Davis and Rosa Sophia Marry Wills (http://www.ancestrylibrary.com/ retrieved 31 January, 2017)

[2] Adams, GF, Family History Workbook, unpublished, p 83.

[3] Tourist Information Distributors, “Exploring Adelaide: Brief History” (http://www.exploringaustralia.com.au/history.php?s=adel retrieved 3 January, 2017)

[4] 1859 ‘MACCLESFIELD.’, South Australian Weekly Chronicle (Adelaide, SA : 1858 – 1867), 12 February, p. 5. , viewed 03 Feb 2017, http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article96494916

[5] Australian Government Bureau of Meteorology, “Centenary of the Bureau, A hundred years young” (http://www.bom.gov.au/inside/centenary.shtml retrieved, 3 January, 2017)

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Layers

Thirty-eight and fifteen Robert St, Glasgow. My great-grandparents Archie and Jane Rowley lived here, and raised twelve children from 1911[1] until their deaths in 1932[2] and 1942[3]. Today it is a car park in a light industrial area, a candle workshop and retail outlet.[4]

I do not see the carpark. I see nineteenth century tenements, taking their shape from the road. Covered in black grime, dirty dusty windows, filthy grimy footpath, few cars and much horse dung. Children everywhere, playing, laughing, running, fighting, talking, shouting, screaming. All in the melodious tones of my mother tongue, music to my ears, indecipherable to outsiders.

Two streets away, the shipyards overshadow all of Glasgow. It fills the air; with still more noise, hammering, welding, scraping metal; smells, acrid, dusty, foul. Its smoke, clouds everything with underworld, ghostly dimness.

This is my inherited memory, layering the landscape, in ways that only family can. The shipyard disappears taking the pollution, noise, and jobs. Next, the tenements, children and adults. Progress is what it is, the sun is bright here now, in the carpark of the candle factory.

[1] Scottish Birth Register, 1911, GROS Data 646/02 1851,Georgina Marion Rowley (http://www.scotlandspeople.gov.uk : acessed 18 October, 2012)

[2] Scottish Death Register, 1932, GROS Data 644/24 0628, Rowley, Jane  (http://www.scotlandspeople.gov.uk : acessed 17 August, 2012)

[3] Scottish Death Register, 1942, GROS Data 644/24 0628, Rowley, Archibald (http://www.scotlandspeople.gov.uk : acessed 22 March, 2005)

[4] “Robert Street, Glasgow, Scotland.” Map. Google Maps. Google (https://www.google.com.au/maps/ : accessed 12 December, 2017 .

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Emigration – Why would you?

John and Julia Kidd emigrated to Australia sometime between 1907, when Clarissa was born in Durham, England[1] and 1913, when Selwyn was born in South Australia.[2] After extensive research, no record of either departure or arrival can be found.[3]

One thing that records cannot reveal, is what motivated this nineteenth century couple to emigrate to the furthest reaches of the British Empire, and rebuild their lives in a primitive and isolated foreign land. This question fascinates me, perhaps because I never received a satisfactory answer from my own parents.

There are several questions to research before attempting an educated guess. Did John have no extended family? Emigration meant a loss of connection with the extended family, but John was one of seven children, had seven aunts and uncles and presumably numerous cousins.[4] Clarissa’s extended family are yet to be researched. Were they young and just starting out? They were both in their forties, with three young children.[5] Were they poor? John was raised in a household with two servants,[6] and the eldest son, (his father’s estate was worth £8,484 15s 3d)[7] he must have been moderately wealthy.

So, middle aged, with a growing family, and moderately wealthy, not the kind of young-ambitious-nothing-to-lose stereotype that I had in mind. This leaves me wondering about the timing, (1907 – 1913). Were they politically savvy enough to foresee the world’s first global conflict?

There is much more that can be researched before making an educated guess about what motivated John and Julia Kidd to emigrate to Australia.

 

________________

[1] England & Wales births 1837­2006 Transcription, (http://www.findmypast.com/ :accessed 26 March, 2016)

[2] Adams, GF, Family History Workbook, unpublished. p 81.

[3] Adams, GF, Family History Workbook, unpublished. P 76

[4] Adams, GF, Family History Workbook, unpublished. P 77-78

[5] Adams, GF, Family History Workbook, unpublished. p 81.

[6] “England and Wales Census, 1871”, database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.1.1/VBZ2-S1G : 24 July 2015), Pearson W Kidd in entry for Jane Bell, 1871.; “England and Wales Census, 1881,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.1.1/Q271-FQXD : 19 August 2016), Pearson W Kidd, Bishop Wearmouth, Durham, England; from “1881 England, Scotland and Wales census,” database and images, findmypast (http://www.findmypast.com : n.d.); citing p. 19, Piece/Folio 4993/145, The National Archives, Kew, Surrey; FHL microfilm 101,775,382.

[7] England & Wales, National Probate Calendar (Index of Wills and Administrations), 1883, Pearson Ward Kidd (http://www.ancestrylibrary.com/ retrieved 11 January, 2017)

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Basil

Sarah looked up from the pot she was stirring, to see the face of her best friend in the doorway.

“Sarah Henderson, if you don’t sit with me and take tea, you will feint with exhaustion, and then what use will you be when they bring Basil home. You have black rings around your eyes.”

Sarah’s mind raced,

‘Oh, God, now she’s said it. The very thing I’ve had been trying to avoid for the last twenty-four hours. Basil. Two years old, and wandered off into the bush, in short pants and a shirt, the whole town out looking for him.’

She had six other boys, four born on this very farm, and she had never lost one. For the first time since they had moved to the farm, she wished they had stayed keeping shop. Suddenly she would have given anything to be back there.

Outside was suddenly silent. From the door, they saw someone riding like the devil towards them. Sarah’s legs gave way, as she swooned. It took several women to coax her back into the sitting room.

He burst through the door. Red faced from the wild ride, and with tears streaming down his dust encrusted face, he could hardly speak. Someone thrust a glass of water into his hand and he took a great gulp and then a great gulp of air.

” They found him Mrs Henderson, they found him. And the little tyke is fine! Can you believe it?”

Sarah feinted.

References:

1893 ‘ARDROSSAN.’, Yorke’s Peninsula Advertiser (SA : 1878 – 1922), 21 July, p. 3. , viewed 19 Dec 2016, http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article216732788

1885 ‘ARDROSSAN.’, Yorke’s Peninsula Advertiser (SA : 1878 – 1922), 17 February, p. 3. , viewed 19 Dec 2016, http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article216321047

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The Saga of Clarissa KIDD

My children’s paternal great-grandmother, Clarissa Emma KIDD has been extremely difficult to trace. I found a website created for the descendants of Mr Thomas Henderson[1] but it is sparsely referenced and not accurate. I also found two family trees with a Clarissa in Ancestry Library[2] and again the information was sparsely referenced and less than accurate.

One showed no spouse, the other showed a spouse, and one child. I decided to compare the Henderson family tree with this second one, recording it in my workbook[3] as an “interview”.

I needed to connect the two Clarissa KIDD records, I moved to her parents and siblings and found they had emigrated between 1907 and 1913. I tried in vain to find them on a passenger manifest. On Trove[4], I started scouring the newspapers for birth, marriage, and death notices. Finally, I found a death notice for Clarissa’s father, that listed his wife, Julia and surviving children as Fred, Les, Clarrie, and Selwyn.[5] Encouraged but needing more I widened the search parameters and found his Eulogy.[6] His birthplace coincided, the year of his arrival placed approximately 1909, the list of children this time written formally gave his daughter’s name as Mrs C Henderson.

With three separate connections I can now be confident.

[1] http://home.iprimus.com.au/flbest/henderson/1.htm

[2] http://person.ancestrylibrary.com/tree/49735217/person/28205264143/facts and http://person.ancestrylibrary.com/tree/27084358/person/13901798702/facts  

[3] Adams, GF, Family History Workbook, unpublished p 73-77.

[4] http://trove.nla.gov.au/

[5] 1931 ‘Family Notices’, News (Adelaide, SA : 1923 – 1954), 10 March, p. 10. (HOME EDITION), viewed 04 Dec 2016, http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article129925392

[6] 1931 ‘EARLY SOCCER PLAYER’, News (Adelaide, SA : 1923 – 1954), 12 March, p. 11. (HOME EDITION), viewed 04 Dec 2016, http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article129923799

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A Rare Insight

My parents rarely ever spoke about the past. Once, I was showing my dad an enormous rectangular basket with a lid that had I bought to use as a blanket box. His eyes lit up when he saw it.

“We had baskets just like that when I was a child,” he told me

I held my breath, not daring to interrupt him in case he stopped.

“When we went away on holidays, we packed everything into one of those baskets, and then we’d all get on the steam train, and go.”

My imagination was fired; a busy Glasgow train station, a steam train, hissing steam, men, women, and children, in old fashioned clothes. I could almost smell the smoke.

Suddenly my father’s eyes widened as another old memory surfaced.

“My grandfather, ‘Papa Rowley’ was a huge man, six feet tall and built like a Highlander. I remember one year when someone tried to pick his pocket.  He was carrying that basket on his shoulder and the pick-pocket must have seen him swaying because he had been drinking, and thought he was fair game.”

I gasped with the surprise of such an insight.

“As soon as his hand went in Papa Rowley’s pocket, Papa’s arm flew back and caught him by the hand. The pick-pocket yelped and let go of the money, it bounced all over the platform. Everyone else was running around picking up the money, and rushing up to give it back to Papa.”

He chuckled under his breath, and as quickly as the moment had come, it was gone.

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