SUFFER THE LITTLE BUSH CHILDREN

GEORGINA, CONSTANCE, MY GRANDMOTHER.

When I thought about writing this blog I knew it was going to be distressing. The death of children is heart rending for everyone. But just imagine what it was like in the Australian outback one hundred years ago when a child got injured or took ill.

No doctor for a hundred miles; a trip that involved a ride in a buggy over a barely formed road. If you could get to a doctor in time he couldn’t have done anything for infectious diseases that were still around like diphtheria.

 Certainly he could give pain relief (usually opium), set broken bones or do a basic operation. At the turn of the century, one third of the deaths in the vast region of North Queensland (where the family had settled), were children under ten.  Most deaths were from dysentery, scarlet fever and diphtheria.  

John Clark as you can remember had already lost his first wife and their baby girl. Enough was enough you’d think. Unfortunately, tragedy would strike again and it struck twice. Esther and John Clark had had four girls over the years, Jane Florence (my grandmother), Minnie Maud, Georgina and Constance Isabel.

In 1889 Georgina aged five died from a ruptured appendix and in 1892, Constance died from diphtheria. They both died at the Lornesleigh homestead and were buried near the stockyards. Their headstones are still there despite flood waters having passed over them several times. To see your children die is suffering beyond belief and then having to bury them on top of that. How do you keep functioning? I guess, in those days you had to keep going or you gave up and died. For Esther and John, they kept going.

I remember as a kid at Lornesleigh looking at the ornate headstones of the two girls side by side, the graves covered in old seashells. I thought about the two girls and wondered how life would have turned out for them if they had lived. I still think about them occasionally. Probably always will.   

GRAVES OF THE TWO GIRLS.

WARNING: GREAT GRANNIE'S GOT A GUN.

GUN TOTING ESTHER GEARY.

In 1880, John Clark certainly married a woman suited for the rugged Australian outback. My great grandmother, Esther Geary, was no genteel, fainting lady from the city salons. 

She was a true Geary but she was genteel in a way; she didn’t have a police record. In turn, she married a tough man who was creating a cattle empire in one of the most remote and hostile parts of Australia.  During this time, Europeans were encroaching on Aboriginal land and the Aborigines were fighting back.  When she came to Lornesleigh Station in 1880, there was a tribe of Aborigines living at the nearby river.

There was a frontier war going on between Europeans and Aborigines across North Queensland. It was brutal as any war with many thousands of people losing their lives, many been innocently massacred. For the Aborigines, it ultimately meant the loss of their culture and traditional lands. I will speak more about the frontier war in future blogs.

ABORIGINAL FAMILY. Source: janesoceania.

Unlike his contemporaries who were employing savage methods to rid their stations of Aborigines, John Clark wanted to live in harmony with them. I think he thought that this vast land was big enough to support everyone.  A great cause of conflict on cattle stations was the spearing of cattle.  Usually the Aborigines speared the cattle as they were easy targets which in turn resulted in reprisals. At Lornesleigh, John Clark would kill cattle for the Aborigines thus avoiding the savage cascade of events. It was, I guess, frontier diplomacy.

Sometimes, there was a breakdown in communication. My great grandmother was at the homestead by herself one morning when a lone Aboriginal man decided to visit. She was in the kitchen.The stockmen and John Clark were out mustering cattle. The Aboriginal male demanded tobacco. When Esther told him she didn’t have any he became agitated. He was agitated enough that Esther produced a rifle and told him to leave. Unfortunately for him, he laughed and said, “White Mary can’t shoot.”

She fired over his head, the bullet going through the wall of the kitchen. Her last sight of him was him tearing through the bush back to the safety of the Aboriginal camp.

      

AUSTRALIAN BUSH CHRISTMAS. CHRISTMAS DAY.

Santa coming to a kid in the Australian bush still seems a novel idea to me, but he did or so I believed. A novelty song in Australia at the time called Six White Boomers, was based around the idea of Santa swapping his reindeers for six white kangaroos.  The reindeers would probably get heat stroke during the delivery run to Oz and were changed for the roos. I always thought that Santa should change out of his Santa suit into something cooler, say, singlet, shorts and flip-flops. All red of course.

CHRISTMAS GUM TREE. 1959. 

My half-sisters ( they’re twelve and thirteen years older than me) and I always were thinking of Santa’s welfare. They had started the tradition of leaving out food and a cool drink for a hot and weary Santa. However, it wasn’t a glass of milk as you would suspect but a glass of beer. Folks, there’s nothing as refreshing as a cool glass of beer on a hot day. Why should Santa miss out? As we found out years later, Dad was the one that played Santa. He was the bloke that delivered the presents, ate the food and drank the beer. 

Christmas morning couldn’t come quick enough. I remember finding it hard to sleep as any kid would. The thought of Santa coming and the heat wasn’t conducive to sleep. I was ready to unwrap those presents at four in the morning but I was always told to go back to bed. I had to hang on until six. It was worth it. The tree had presents piled high around it. I tore at the presents like I was crazed. I think I opened everyone else’s also. I remember getting toy guns, cowboy and Indian ( with headpiece) suits and even a tepee for presents. Bush Santa was the greatest.

CHRISTMAS LUNCH. 1959

By the time Christmas lunch was ready the heat was intense. You didn’t want to go outside. I don’t know how my mother cooked a hot lunch during the hottest time of the year. As a result, she always looked a little tad stressed. It was tradition to have a hot English lunch. Dad always helped. He would bake and glaze a leg of ham, a tradition I still carry on. 

MUM LOOKS STRESSED.

So on a hot day we sat down for a hot English lunch of roast turkey, roast chicken and roast ham with lots of stuffing and vegetables for at least ten to twenty guests. So much that  there was always leftovers. Dessert was a plum pudding with custard and my mother’s triple with a heavy taste of sherry. They were the greatest Christmases and every year I still try to emulate them (minus the cattle station and the gumtree).

Wishing you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. And I hope the weather isn’t too hot wherever you are. 

     

GRANDMA BELL'S PLUM PUDDING RECIPE.

GRANDMOTHER BELL. 1940'S.

85g/ 3oz light brown sugar,

115g/ 4oz  butter or margarine,

115g/ 4oz  maple or golden syrup.

115g/ 4oz sultanas,

 2 cups self raising flour,

 1 egg,

 ½ teaspoon bicarb soda dissolved in a little warm water,

½ cup chopped almonds,

2 tablespoons black coffee or coffee essence,

1 tablespoon brandy (if desired)

PLUM PUDDING.

Warm the butter, syrup, and coffee stirring until melted but not hot. Allow to cool. Add the beaten egg, sift in flour, then add sultanas, almonds, brandy, and lastly the soda. Beat quickly and thoroughly. Spoon the mix in to a greased pudding basin or pudding steamer, smooth the mixture gently with the back of a spoon. Cover with a double layer of greaseproof or baking paper, then a layer of aluminium foil and tie securely with string. Set over a saucepan of simmering water and steam the pudding for 2 and 1/2 hours, adding water to the pan if needed.

BUSH CHRISTMAS IN AUSTRALIA. THE PREPARATION.

BUSH CHRISTMAS. 1928. MY DAD IS IN THE FRONT ROW. THIRD FROM THE LEFT. Source: personal collection.

 Preparation for Christmas started months before the festive day. If presents or foodstuffs were not picked up during rare trips to town, the mailman brought the rest. My parents liked buying treats like English biscuits, cheeses or marmalade jam from city department store catalogues. The mailman, Mister Riggs, brought most of it on his weekly trips. Unbeknown to me, he even brought most of my presents. Mister Riggs was like a bush Santa.

It was all very English. That's how it was celebrated then, even if the weather was always blazing hot. An English Christmas?  We liked to celebrate as if we are still in the old country; we imagined we were having a white Christmas; snow, pine trees and fireplaces.  Many of us dreamed about having a white Christmas in Europe.

There were not any fans or air conditioners at the homestead. Remember, this is the 1960's. The homestead did have fly screening. Without the screening the homestead would have been swarming with flies. There was refrigeration though; supplied by six kerosene fridges that sat in the kitchen which was the size of a small house. The only cooling agents available were beer and soft drink. A country pub probably did not not carry as much beer stock as Lornesleigh station.

The Lornesleigh homestead was also well stocked with food and good cheer. Mum and Dad loved having guests for Christmas, the more the merrier. The Christmas tree had been put up in the dining room a week before Christmas. The tree was not a pine tree but a heavily decorated gum tree that Dad has cut out of the bush. It was always hard to put a star on the top of a gum tree. Everyone pitched in with the decorations. 

Guests came and went. Some stayed. They were from the next door stations (next door means they are twenty miles away, at least), stockmen without families, uncles and aunts who lived on the other family stations, the mailman and his kids and my two older half-sisters who usually brought their friends from the city. Even strangers were welcomed. My half- sisters had been here for weeks, playing the record player, staying up late, laughing, dancing and swimming in the river.

I tried to join in but I was seen as an annoyance. I’m way too young. That did not stop me of course. If I got sent to bed I’d just get out again. Hey, it’s Christmas. My two half- sisters were accomplished musicians so the piano in the lounge room was given a good work out. More singing and dancing. Mum and Dad don’t care, they would join in.

 They did not complain when the modern music was played ( Beatles, Rolling Stones etc). My parents had their favourite music; Marty Robbins, Tom Jones. It was all played loud and everyone enjoyed themselves.

 To end the long day, Dad always played Christmas carol compilation records into the wee hours.  To be continued.                        

    

THE BUSHRANGER'S PUB

SLY GROG SHOP. Source: history up close.

As you probably are aware, the blog posts are about outback and colonial Australia. The posts always feature a family member and will continue to do so. My family are an interesting and notorious bunch, they’ve come in many shades;  pioneers, participants in history-making events, hard drinkers, horse riders, reckless, storytellers, making fortunes, losing fortunes, thieves, gentry, convicts, soldiers. Last but not least, entrepreneurial.   

My ancestor, Daniel Geary had been a convict, policeman and hero during his time, but in the next phase of his adventurous life, he was also an entrepreneur. Instead of sitting on his porch nursing his invalided shoulder, regaling visitors with stories of shootouts with convicts, Daniel went into business. Well, it was a business but it wasn’t legal. Daniel bought a farm and set up a sly-grogging business (moonshining).  He did very well even with a stuffed shoulder.

Gold had been discovered and the miners didn’t mind a drop. Daniel did so well, that the authorities were soon alerted to a “drink craze” going on in the district. When Daniel was tipped off that he was soon going to be raided, he shut up business and went into a legitimate one. He bought a pub.

GEARY'S GAP. Source:ozroads.

Daniel built the pub on the busy road to Sydney, at the top of a range, overlooking Lake George. The area is now known as Geary’s Gap. Calling the pub, The Currency Lad, he served many a thirsty traveller after they had reached the top of the range. They arrived on horses, on foot or by coaches. He certainly picked the right location. Geary’s Gap was also a great location for the bushrangers to ply their trade. Travellers were often relieved of their valuables by the bushrangers at Geary’s Gap. Daniel Geary didn’t mind as he also used to serve the thirsty bushrangers ! Who knows, maybe he even tipped off the bushrangers.

BUSHRANGERS ROBBING A COACH. Source: wikipedia.

Daniel sold the pub after running it for ten years and became pound keeper in a place called Gundaroo (near modern day Canberra). Sadly, it didn’t end well for Daniel and his wife Bridget, as they lived out their days in an alcoholic haze, both succumbing to the effects of the grog. Ironic isn't it.

Next blog: a bush Christmas.        

SHOOTOUT

 INSIDE ABERCROMBIE CAVES. Source: blayney-nsw.

ABERCROMBIE CAVES. Source: panoramio.com

By the time the rebels had reached the caves, their numbers had markedly reduced. Most probably saw impending doom but there was a hard core of fourteen still led by Entwistle, ready to fight it out. 

Resting in the Abercrombie Caves, the rebels continued to the top of a waterfall where they decided to camp. It was here that the troopers and the volunteers finally caught up with the rebels.

The gun battle lasted for over an hour. By the end of it, two troopers were dead and Daniel Geary (my great,great, great grandfather) was badly wounded in the right shoulder. The rebels retreated back to the caves, losing their horses in the process.

The troopers continued to follow, searching the dark labyrinth of caves; trying to flush out the rebels. The rebels eluded the troopers, escaping the caves and heading to a hill now known as Bushrangers Hill ( A bushranger is an Australian outlaw).

BUSHRANGERS HILL. Source:snucklepuff.

Unfortunately, this is where they met the soldiers who had marched from Sydney. Although vastly outnumbered, the rebels decided to go down with a fight. In the firefight, another two soldiers and two rebels were wounded. Eventually, the rebels were totally surrounded and arrested. The two wounded rebels died whilst being taken back to Bathurst and another three managed to escape.The remaining ten, including Entwistle were hung on the 2^nd November 1830 in Bathurst at a spot now called Ribbon Gang Lane.

GALLOWS. Source:thinkprogress.org

Source: bushrangers.abercrombiecaves. 

 As for Daniel Geary, he was invalided out of the police and granted a pension for life. As a result of his shoulder wound he was never able to again raise his right arm above his elbow. Call it bureaucratic madness, because he still had to report to a government doctor every year to prove it hadn’t got any better!  More about Daniel Geary in my next blog.