Your family stories
We’ve been blown away by some of the stories we received for entry to our competition to win a copy of Who do you think you are? Read the stories below for inspiration or entertainment and feel free to , if you wish.
Scottish Castle
When I started tracing my family tree, I was surprised and delighted to find that a Scottish castle was involved!! My mother’s ancestors, the Mortimers, lived in Aberdeenshire. William Mortimer, my G-G-G-Grandfather, was the Miller of Knockenbaird. His children were very adventurous, setting off in search of new lives to South Africa, America, Canada, New Zealand and Australia. In 2003/2004, I spent nine delightful months in England and during the Christmas break, travelled to Scotland in search of ‘my’ castle. The Mortimers had begun building ‘Craigievar’ in the early 17th century. However, after building only the ground floor, a change of fortunes saw them lose their castle and lands to the Forbes family. The exchange of property documents in 1610, are available for viewing in the castle. It was a cold, bleak day when we travelled north from Perth on the castle trail. Due to snowy roads, the journey was slow, and it was in the soft glow of a setting sun that we arrived at the entrance to Craigievar. It was closed, of course, and the roadway too slippery with snow to navigate. So I walked the last mile along a snowy pathway through picturesque woods. The first sight of the castle was very emotional and I was glad that we had the place to ourselves. The castle is very tall, about 7 floors, with tiny, narrow windows. The first floor was distinctively different from the rest and it was obvious which part had been built by my ancestors. It was getting cold and dark and at my husband’s urging I reluctantly bid this magical place goodbye and hoped that one day, perhaps in the Spring, I could return.
Ros M, QLD
U3A
When I retired in 2000, I joined my local U3A genealogy group, who were very helpful and welcoming and gave me many good hints to follow.
As my mother had passed away a few years earlier, I realised I knew very little about my ancestry and of course, whilst she was alive, I hadn’t thought to ask.
One of the Genealogy group’s recommendations to get me started was to visit the Latter Day Saints Centre. This was very successful and I found a name and email address of a 2nd cousin in London who, had been researching my mother’s family for many years.
I was holidaying in the Cook Islands when he returned my email, giving me the proof and details that he was indeed related to me. I still remember how very exciting it was to have made contact with a cousin so far away.
We subsequently visited London, and my cousin invited us to dinner at his home. He also invited another of our cousins living in England. He very thoughtfully had prepared a meal, which was the kind of food that he said my grandmother would have eaten when she left England for Australia in 1912.
We were the first branch of my grandmother’s family to have visited him from Australia.
I have found researching my ancestry a very addictive hobby, and have found such kindness and generosity on the part of other researchers in my quest.
Mae B, VIC
Twins
My twin brother and I, now aged 57, were adopted at three weeks of age. We were told when we were about 12-13 that we had been adopted, and we were content to accept the fact that nothing was known about our real parents by our adoptive parents.
As I grew older, my thoughts began to change. I wanted to know who my parents were. I started to wonder if there were any genetic traits in my real family, particularly after having twins myself, and both my brother and I were diagnosed with epilepsy.
In the early 1980’s the government changed the laws that allowed an adopted person to have access to their original birth certificate, and through a group that was set up to help people to trace their original families, I went to Melbourne with my husband to receive my original birth certificate. I was totally blown away when I found ten older siblings on the certificate, including two other sets of twins!
To cut a long story short, I contacted my birth parents, and arranged to meet them, along with my twin brother, my husband, and our adopted father. It was an amazing experience to meet this older couple, who had given us life, as well as some of my siblings, who looked so much like both my brother and myself.
My birth parents were able to gain some closure in their lives, regarding what had happened to the twins that they had to give up, due to hard times with an already large family. Now I was able to answer questions like ‘Is their any ...(particular sickness) in your family?’ Those were the things I hadn’t been able to answer before, but now I had access to my family, I could.
My mother was able to tell me of the problems she had during our birth, which could possibly have been the cause of our epilepsy. There were no other epileptics in the family, or previous generation. This means that my own sons would have no likelihood of having epileptic children.
I have, over time, met all of my siblings. Last year, I met the last one, my oldest brother, who was thrilled to catch up with us, having remembered the day when we were given up for adoption. Strangely enough, of the three sets of twins that my parents had, I was the only twin to have twins!
Finding out who you really are can be a very emotional, but satisfying
experience.
Sue
Irish
Her name was Mary O’Connor and yes with a name like that she would have to be from Ireland, as am I. She was my great-grandmother. My granny’s mum.
I was in the doctors surgery one day for an examination of a lump I found in my breast. I was being referred to Breast Screen for a mammogram, and as the doctor was writing out the referral, she asked me was there anybody in the family who had breast cancer. I said yes, my great-grandmother from Cork in Ireland.
And as you do, I started to talk about her whilst the doctor was writing. She and her husband had a large family, and my great-grandfather had been in the army in India before the Great War. The first pictures in our family album are postcards they sent from India. One in particular scared me stiff as a child. It was of a funeral pyre in the street “with the body on it’’. And, of course the Irish being so dramatic in their story telling about the banshees and all, they never spared the details of the pyre even for a child.
Anyway when great-gran and tribe came back home, there was very low employment, so great-gran being the jolly person that she was, and fond of the drink, got a license to run a “liquor establishment” and the story was passed around the generations, which I overheard often, how granny lost her hotel because a “policeman fell through the door”.
I just listened to this lament as I grew up, and eventually I remember asking “Why” but never received a proper answer, just “Ah the Guardia, and she with 7 children”. Until one day when I was deemed old enough to understand, they told me that on one cold night, a new policeman was on the beat, and to shelter from the rain and wind, he had stood in the pub’s door way but as the last customer had not closed it properly, he fell through only to discover the old men in there still drinking after hours. Well great-granny had been warned twice times before, so with new blood in the force, she lost her license to run a liquor establishment.
Then the migration started. They all moved up to Northern Ireland, Belfast, where she applied for a job as a cook in an army barracks.
The ad said “a cook with no encumberants”. Well granny had seven encumbrances some still in nappies, but the story goes they loved her cooking and cheerfulness so much, that by the time they discovered her seven encumbrances they let her stay.
Great-granny loved her “drop“ as they called whiskey in those days, and the story goes she fell on her breast outside a pub one day, on spittle the men would spit from their mouths after chewing tobacco, which we all believed. Maybe to make light of the serious nature of my visit to the doctor had caused, she said “It sounds to me more likely, from what you have told me that your great-granny, she tripped going out from being a little tipsy. I liked that story better. Oh, the upshot of the mammogram was thankfully negative, this time. I’m sure I’ll think of great-granny and her little “trip” whenever I go for successive mammograms.
Maureen M
Nationality
There were a set of grandparents with an interesting story in our family. Apparently, during WW1 the grandfather was interned in England because he was German. While he was confined, his wife met another man, and started a relationship. When the war ended, she was asked (by the authorities) if she wished to continue the marriage and said “No”. The consequence of this was that the grandfather was deported back to Germany, losing contact with his family. The grandmother had five more children in the second relationship and migrated to Australia. She brought her youngest son from the first union with her. He was raised as the oldest child in the second union. I have often wondered what became of the original grandfather and how sad that a man’s life was changed so drastically because of his nationality.
Marg M
Convict
My wife’s family story from the Melbourne connection has always been that one of the ancestors was born in a convict colony overseas. This could have been shameful!
Only when researched properly did we find that she was not in fact a convict birth, but that her father was a military guard for the convicts at Van Diemens Land, which also brings in the “overseas” part, Tasmania being over the sea from Victoria!
John W
When I first started looking at my family history in February 2003, William Barrell, my great-grandfather on my mother’s side, appeared to be one of the easiest of my ancestors to pin down. We had a photograph of his gravestone in Saxmundham, Suffolk, England, including his wife’s name and that of one daughter. The inscription reads-
“To the memory of William Barrell, who died 5th Aug, 1877 aged 48,
leaving a widow and 10 children to lament their loss. This stone was placed by W.B.Long of Hurts Hall to whom he had been a faithful servant for 21 years. Also of Emily Elizabeth his wife, who died on March 6th 1905 aged 74”.
(At the base of the stone it says)- “Minnie Mary their daughter” (balance unreadable)
Working out William’s birth year from the gravestone gave me 1829, but, in attempting to verify this, I found on BMD (Births, Marriages and Deaths)
that his age at death was given as 46, which would have made his birth year 1831. I queried this with BMD and was told, in no uncertain terms, that it should definitely be 46 and “did I want to change the course of history?” At this time, I could not find any record of his birth from 1829-1831.
I checked the 1881 census for the family, and it showed Emily as “Head” (with William, of course, already deceased.) It also showed only four children, the eldest being my grandfather Frederick, age 15. The other six must have left home by then. Emily was shown as being born in Gosport, Hampshire, but gave no clue to her maiden name. How did William meet and marry a lady from Hampshire? (Another mystery.)
My grandfather was Frederick James Barrell, born in 1866. From IGI (International Genealogical Index) I found his christening date, 25 February, 1866, and from BMD, his birth date of 20 January 1866. I sent for a copy of his birth certificate and it showed his mother’s maiden name as “PINK”. I then contacted the “Rootsweb” mailing list for Hampshire and soon discovered that Emily was born in Alverstoke, a suburb of Gosport in 1833.
I still couldn’t figure out how a man, who I presumed came from Suffolk, could meet a lady from Hampshire, and I couldn’t find their marriage registered in Hampshire or Suffolk around 1850-60. Unable to find a marriage for William Barrell, I began to search for Emily Pink’s marriage and found one only in St Marylebone, London in 1856. When I cross checked this, I confirmed the marriage was to William Barrell. I sent for the marriage certificate, which arrived in September 2003, and showed that the marriage took place on 13 April 1856, in St Marylebone.
The certificate also gave me William’s father’s name (also William Barrell, “Miller”) and Emily’s father as William Pink “Pilot”. Ages were listed as “of full age” only, so no clue to birth date.
I then had a very lucky break…
A man by the name of Stuart Moyes contacted my sister Maureen in England. She had written to his parents two years before to inform them that our mother had died. This was because Maureen knew that they had corresponded over many years. Maureen received a letter from the father, Kenneth Moye, stating that he would keep in touch but that his wife had Alzheimer’s disease, and could not communicate. However, Kenneth then died and his son Stuart had found the correspondence and was interested in family history. He was able to send us a complete list of the Barrell family with birth dates, passed down from Emily! Stuart is also a descendant of Emily.
This list showed that William and Emily had their first child, William Henry at Ipswich, November 1 1856, and that he was christened at Huntingfield, Suffolk, an area I had suspected could be our William’s birthplace. In Huntingfield, I found a William Barrell “Corn Miller” and his wife Elizabeth had given birth to a “William” in 1823. I wondered if this William had died and “our” William had replaced him.
I decided to search the 1861 census and obtained the microfilm from LDS (Latter-Day Saints research centre). I found the family but William was “away from home” and no details of his age were given. I then went on to the 1871 census and could not find him or his family in the Saxmundham area, even though I knew he had worked for W.B.Long at Hurts Hall at that time! (he was a coachman and general servant). The census included Hurts Hall but he wasn’t there, and neither was his boss W B LONG. There was a clue; an Edmund Long was at the Hall described only as “son” and his birthplace was shown as London. I looked up his birthplace and it was St Marylebone, the same place as William and Emily’s wedding. Edmund was only six years younger than William Long so could be a cousin (not a brother because a different mother). I have searched the internet but have so far failed to find a connection. I believe that William “Beeston” Long probably had a London residence in St Marylebone, where I also found several “Pink” families.
I decided to send for William’s death certificate, hoping it may give me some clue to his birth date. This arrived on Nov 20 2003, and I was shocked to find that William had died in the “Lunatic Asylum, Melton Suffolk” from “brain disease, general exhaustion and paralysis” His age at death was listed as 46.
By this time, I had searched the 1851 census unsuccessfully, although I did find some other Barrells and Friends,
My next recourse would have to be the 1841 census, now expecting to find William at Huntingfield, Suffolk. I decided to appeal for help to the Suffolk Genealogical Mailing List, for someone with the 1841 census. Imagine my delight, then, when, on 21 Nov. 2003, I received an email from a lady reporting the family in Huntingfield as follows;
William, age 40 Miller, Elizabeth, his wife, age 40, Robert age 15, Betsy age 15, William age 13, George age 11, Mary age 9, Benjamin age 7,
Henry age 3. This places William’s birth year as 1827 or 1828 (different from all previous indications) and his age at death as 49 or 50. I now believe the original birth date for William of 1823 was either a mis-transcription (3 for 8) or the birth of a child who subsequently died.
I then received an email from another “lister” quoting from records- “William Barrill baptised 25 June 1828, born Huntingfield, Father William Barril, mother Elizabeth”, so that confirmed the birth at last. (spelling of Barrill as transcribed).
I was concerned about William’s illness and cause of death, and contacted the Suffolk Record Office to see if they had any further information. They had “case histories” from 1866 relating to patients at the Melton hospital and I requested a report from them. This arrived in January, 2004 and, while it gave some details, didn’t give an actual cause or name of the illness from which he had died.
The report stated that;
1876, Nov 3rd. W Barrell, 46 married, a gentleman’s servant, has been “strange for 2 years” Cause of attack unknown, not epileptic, dangerous or suicidal.
William had his ups and downs but deteriorated and died Aug 5th 1877.
I showed my doctor the report and requested his opinion, but he said there was too little evidence, and death could have been the result of a brain tumour or syphilis.
With regard to William’s true age at death, we know that he was 13yo when the 1841 census was taken on June 7, 1841, confirming the 1828 birth. He died in Aug of 1877, after his birthday, so his true age would have been 49.
Details of the history of William and Emily’s meeting, courtship and marriage are yet to be finalised. However, I strongly suspect that they met in London where her family had relations and where William was taken as part of his duties to W B Long.
The research continues!
Leonard D, VIC
More convicts!
For the last 30 or so years I have been aware that my father has four convicts amongst his ancestors, as we have a copy of all their records. For some strange reason I have felt particularly drawn to one in particular – Richard Wakeham. When I obtained a copy of his records, the reason for this became apparent. Richard was the only one of our convicts who was already married, and had a family before he was convicted and transported to Tasmania. I guess the maternal instincts in me had been aroused!
Every so often over the years, I often thought that I should really get to work and find out how and when his family arrived – did they come at the time of his conviction - or after he got his Ticket of Leave? How was their trip paid for? Many questions came to my mind. Due to family and work commitments I did not have the time or finance to search for information.
I clearly remember the day that I made some headway with this research. I was idly surfing the net when I came across an advertisement for a genealogical research company in London. So I just quickly sent an email to them, gave brief details of what I knew, that I was trying to find out how, and when, the family got to Tasmania. I received a reply almost straight away detailing what sort of searches they recommended and how much it would cost. While I was deciding which avenue I would opt for, I received a further email –
“Further to my recent email, I have some important new info regarding Richard Wakeham’s records, and I am delighted to say I have some very good news indeed.
I was working at the PRO (Public Records Office) yesterday for other clients, and as I had a small amount of spare time, I had a look to see if there were any petitions relating to Richard. There were three - and one of these gives some excellent information, although (strangely) not about Richard’s case, but some family history.
1. The first petition is from his wife, in her own hand. Although undoubtedly interesting, it doesn’t actually add anything to our knowledge.
2. There was another petition on behalf of some local residents - asking that Richard not be shown any leniency, and be sent away for the full term.
However, it is the third which is of most interest;
3. This is another appeal for clemency, written by Richard’s grandfather in 1843. He was in his late eighties, and bed-ridden. The petition is written in his own (rather shaky) hand - barely literate, and with numerous mistakes. The basic thrust of the grandfather’s message is that he was once “promised any favour by His Majesty that was just” and he was trying to call this in by getting a reprieve for Richard. The reason the King had offered this, was because way back - in 1779 - he (the grandfather) had been involved in some important military action against the French and Spanish. It is this action that the grandfather relates in some detail. It is quite an amazing document with regards to the family’s history.”
Sadly this appeal was refused and Richard went on to serve his time.
Well, I very smartly handed over the money for all this and got handwritten copies and a typed transcription of the 3 above letters.
Even though I had all this, I still did not know how his wife Ann and children arrived in Tasmania. In the meantime, I discovered a website (http://www.rootsweb.com) where I could list Ann and children on the Swimmers List (i.e. did not know how they arrived in Tasmania). When I detailed in my email what I wanted listed, I received a return email from the List Administrator telling me that she had taken the liberty of asking a friend who owned the book Convict Applications to bring out families to VDL (also NSW, VIC, & WA), Index 1827-1873, compiled by Coralie Mesecke, published by Tasmanian Family History Society Inc. Hobart Branch, April 2001, to do a lookup for me, and on page 99 discovered the following –
Convict’s Name & Ship: WAKEHAM Richard, Equestrian 1844
Spouse: Ann WAKEHAM
Family & other details: Sarah (18), Ann (14), Elizabeth (11), George (9)
Residence: Modbury Devon
arrived VDL per ‘Success’ 1849
Instead of being on the Swimmers List, they were now on the Immigrants List. I have also since been able to locate a copy of Richard’s application for the family to come to Tasmania and that he had the means to support them.
Ann was my father’s great-grandmother. On the inquest of her death it states that she died from burns received at the home of her son. My father’s mother had told me many years ago that Ann had very long thick hair and that after she had washed it one day, she was drying it in front of the fire when her hair caught alight. The Inquest report certainly appears to support that story.
Betty K
Contact
My story is that I have always been interested in my family tree, it started seriously when I was back in England on holiday in 1997. My father lost touch many years ago with his brother and sister, Amy, but we were always very close to Amy’s daughter, Daisy and her family who lived in Littlehampton, visiting often over the years until we left and emigrated to Australia in 1958. Losing touch soon after, Daisy was widowed and remarried, we often wondered where Daisy and three daughters were. Through the efforts of family and genealogy sites online, I made contact with the granddaughter of my father’s brother, and then found my cousin, Doreen, Daisy’s daughter and my aunt Amy’s granddaughter.
We have been in touch, much to our great delight, for a few months now, and after not having seen or heard from each other for 50 years, we are soon to meet when Doreen visits us in a few weeks time. We exchanged photos and I was amazed to see Doreen was the image of her mother as I remembered her.
Ida G
All over
Doing my family tree I have found people from all over England & Wales, with all sorts of occupations, including several who ended up in the workhouse and one lunatic.
It’s often difficult to get all the information you want from such a distance, even though there are many web-sites to use.
When I started doing my tree I joined GenesReunited. The first match that I had with names on other trees, was my ex-wife! Fortunately, a long time had passed since we separated and we are now on amicable terms and correspond regularly.
Through the same site, I made contact with another genealogist in England who volunteered to check some church records for me in Nottinghamshire. He found the information I asked for, plus quite a few other leads for my tree. After several emails over three or four weeks, we suddenly realized that we were second cousins. I have since found a third cousin. I correspond with them regularly, and we have helped each other, and I am looking forward to meeting them when we go to England next year.
Steve B
Church
My son and daughter-in-law, for no special reason, chose an out of the way, very old church, in which to have each of their four children christened. It was about a forty minute drive from where everyone lived. After the christening of their third daughter, I learned through doing family research, that our ancestors had helped build the church back in the early 1800’s. We all thought how eerie that was. Now, we are about to have the fourth child christened there.
Carol L
We discovered that a distant Uncle was a bank teller and was held up at gun point by Ned Kelly!!!
Eriin G, NT
Hanging Judge
Back in the 1600s, there was a gentlemen - and I use the term loosely - in England, known as the Hanging Judge. Judge Jeffreys was an ancestor on my father’s side and legend has it that he died in the Tower of London as a drunkard. The family didn’t wish to be associated with this horrible man and the family surname was changed to Jeffery.
My kids have loved telling this story at school, and on a trip to England in 1999, we found as many places as we could associated with him. It helped the children enjoy their trip and gave them something to look for!
Denise D, NSW
Margaret Mitchell
It is amazing what you discover when you take the time to sit down with an older family member and ask questions about the family history. This happened to me in 1996 when I approached my father Norm Mitchell about the possibility of recording answers to about 50 questions I had prepared on his family history and his own life. My father was a very private person and thus I was pleasantly surprised when he agreed. Over the course of a couple of hours I learnt more about this history than I had known for all my 48 years to that time.
I was very interested in many of Norm’s stories and was particularly taken with those about his amazing grandmother, an Irish lady Margaret Mitchell (nee Pinkerton). Tantalizingly, the little I heard about Margaret from my father only served to whet my appetite to discover more. Unfortunately I was to learn nothing further from dad as sadly he passed away a short time after our talk. Now the recording of his voice and his stories are doubly precious to our family.
Armed with a copy of my father’s memoirs I visited the Mitchell Library in Sydney in search of more information I hoped to find in old copies of the ‘Scone Advocate’ newspaper on microfiche. It was there I encountered Rosemary Block, national president of the Oral History Association of Australia (OHAA). Rosemary read the memoirs I had written and surprised me by asking for permission to publish Norm’s story. However there was a catch – I first had to become an OHAA member. With the publication carrot before me I readily agreed and the memoirs were subsequently published in serialized fashion in 1997 editions of ‘VoicePrint’, the State Library OHAA NSW Branch magazine.
Oral history opened up a whole new world to me. I very quickly realized how inexpert was my initial attempt at gathering family history and, in particular, how inadequate 50 questions were for the interview with my father. I could only improve on that effort and the starting point for me was to participate in the NSW Oral History Program by attending seminars and workshops at the State Library and putting into practice what I learnt – to the point where I am now able to help others.
Back to Margaret Mitchell and what I now know of her life. My search for information did not start well as I was unable to establish her birth date, only that she was born in Ireland in either 1849 or 1850. Margaret was a native of County Tyrone and member of the Pinkerton family. She had little or no education and when she immigrated with her family to Australia in 1863 at age fourteen or fifteen could neither read nor write. Events happened quickly for the new arrivals and that same year Margaret’s father James Pinkerton, a grazier, came into possession of the pastoral property ‘Tanborough’ on the Hunter. Young Margaret had plans of her own and her time with the family as a single young lady was to be a short one.
One of the many immigrants who arrived in Australia at about the same time as the Pinkertons was an Irishman, Samuel Mitchell. Samuel settled in the Moonan area of the Hunter, found work as a farmer, and met Margaret Pinkerton. Their courtship was brief and they married on 13/4/1864 after both had been in the country no more than a year. Samuel was thirty one years old and Margaret fifteen. Over the next sixteen years Margaret had eleven children (seven boys and four girls) to Samuel. Their first child, daughter Jane, was born on 1st April, 1865 but died before the month was out. Her eleventh child Andrew was born on 20th October, 1880, which meant Margaret had finished her large family while still in her early thirties. The penultimate child, another son Robert, was my grandfather.
Margaret had the great misfortune of losing her husband Samuel in an accident. His death certificate states the cause of death as: ‘wheel of a dray passing over leg, thigh and body’. Samuel was forty six years of age. Despite the immediacy of their loss the Mitchells were relatively well to do for the times. The explanation for their apparent prosperity is found in the oral histories I gathered from family members and from my own research of genealogy records.
Despite a poor start in life and her lack of education Margaret had the good fortune of acquiring a wine shanty from Samuel Cook, an uncle of her father. The wine shanty was situated on the Cobb & Co. route in an area not too far from Moonan. It must have prospered because before too long Margaret had enough money to build a hotel, the Victoria Hotel at Moonan Flat. She had it constructed next to a creek, somewhat too close to the creek as it flooded repeatedly causing her to relocate the hotel more than once to higher ground. Margaret was the first licensee of this establishment and the Victoria Hotel continues to operate to this day.
You may well imagine that the daily tasks involved in operating a hospitality business would present quite a challenge to someone unable to read or write. Take, for example, the job of recording multiple orders for food and drinks and ensuring each patron receives the correct meal. Not so for Mrs. Mitchell who did all this from memory alone. She did have the help of her family but the tragic death of her husband Samuel left Margaret pregnant with their last child and having nine other children to care for, the eldest of whom was only fourteen years old. Each of the children had chores to do, with the younger ones helping where they could and only the babies and toddlers unable to contribute. Interestingly, as the children grew older there were some subtle changes in the nature of their duties. For example by the time the second youngest, Robert, had become a young man his mother would encourage him to stay up late playing cards with the customers so they would drink more. Mrs. Mitchell was a formidable woman and Robert, who liked socializing anyway, did as he was told.
Mrs. Mitchell’s business enterprises grew from strength to strength – family folklore says that other than the hotel she owned the butcher shop and several other properties in the district. She continued working into her early sixties and then entered into well-deserved retirement, coming to Scone to spend the evening of her years with her two daughters.
Margaret passed away on 29th July, 1924 aged 77. My grandfather acquired 1200 acres of prime land fronting the Hunter River and the other sons were landholders to a lesser degree. As to her two remaining daughters, it is reputed they received a hotel each.
An obituary appeared in the Scone Advocate newspaper the week following Margaret’s death and it gives testament to the high regard in which she was held by people of the district (partial extract):
‘OBITUARY
THE LATE MRS MITCHELL
The passing on Tuesday last of Mrs. Mitchell, relict of the late Samuel Mitchell, of Moonan Flat, removes from our district one of its most remarkable characters – one of whom any district, aye, any country, might well be proud.
Here was a character replete with all the striking traits of courageous and heroic womanhood. In playing her part as a family head, her life, with all its vicissitudes, was reinforced by indomitable courage, which perforce the old lady had on more than one occasion to take in both hands, just as many others of the early settlers also had to do.
…………………Handicapped with a meagre education, her wonderful grit, determination, and business ability nevertheless pulled her through…………the exemplary manner in which she conducted the place (Victoria Hotel) has been recorded in these columns from time to time, as also have the praises of her management been favourably referred to of visitors both casual and frequent, to Moonan Flat………………………………………………………………..’
One final story is a tale my father told me at the interview eleven years ago. It involves Mrs. Mitchell and Thunderbolt the bushranger. It was this story more than any other that really fired my imagination and started me on my search. My father could be frustratingly short on detail at times and this was one of those occasions. His account was sketchy at best and it was not until this time last year and completely by accident that I was able to put flesh on the bones. I happened to be watching a travel program on television called ‘Getaway’, on Sydney’s channel 9. The segment that grabbed my attention featured the ‘Victoria Hotel’ at Moonan Flat and the presenter was Ben Dark. Ben was shown standing in front of the hotel and relating the story of how Thunderbolt rode up on his horse, drew his revolver and pointed it at the publican, Mrs. Mitchell.
The conversation went something like this:
Thunderbolt: ‘Where’s the cash?’
Mrs. Mitchell: ‘The cash is in a place where a gentleman wouldn’t look!’
(Gesturing inside the top of her dress)
The cash remained in its hiding place and Mrs. Mitchell was left unmolested. It is little wonder that Thunderbolt was known as the gentleman bushranger.
On a personal note, did I hear you ask what happened to my grandfather’s 1200 acres? It came as no surprise to family members that Robert Alexander Mitchell was not cut out for a farmer’s life. He forfeited his land holdings soon afterwards due to his inability to meet repayments. And as to the future, well all those years spent coaxing drinkers to remain at his mother’s hotel took their toll and any prospects of a bright future disappeared as quickly as the grog!
Bob M, NSW